Harmonia's underground was no longer silent.
But harmony?
That was still far away…
---
The secret basement of the Echo Circle lay deep below Harmonia's streets —
a hall carved from old sandstone, where time had left its marks.
Cracked pillars. Dust-covered instruments.
And walls once filled with musical symbols… now faded like forgotten dreams.
Noen looked at it all.
But what he really heard…
was the vibration inside people's hearts.
Some smiled quietly just by being near him.
Others?
Their eyes held doubt.
> "You're that guy, right?"
A boy stepped forward — jaw clenched, eyes full of fight.
"The one who sang in Silencia and made people cry?"
> "That's me," Noen replied calmly.
"But I never wanted anyone to cry."
The boy moved closer.
His name — Finn.
The rebel bard.
Dark leather coat, a small drum hanging from his belt, and eyes that didn't want applause — they wanted protest.
> "Then are you ready, Noen?" Finn asked.
"People are singing now… but for how long?"
"We don't want songs. We want change."
"And change… sometimes comes loud."
Noen took a deep breath.
> "Change can come from music too, Finn."
"Not every voice needs to shout."
Suddenly — another voice entered the room.
Mora. The soul witch.
The oldest in the Circle.
> "Don't underestimate silence, child," she said softly.
"Sometimes… one note can ruin everything."
"And sometimes… it's the only thing that saves us."
"You're both right.
And both wrong."
Tension spread across the circle.
Some stood with Finn — fists clenched, ready for rebellion.
Others stayed near Noen — drawn to quiet hope, not noise.
And some… like Mora… just watched. Waiting.
But one thing was clear:
> They weren't on the same page.
---
Noen picked up his guitar.
Ran his fingers across the strings — tuning them softly.
The room went quiet.
> "I'm with you," he said.
"But my music won't become anyone's weapon."
"I don't scream."
"I listen."
And then he played…
A melody, soft and broken —
not a sound of rage… but of reason.
Finn closed his eyes.
And after a long pause, said:
> "Alright, bard."
"But remember… if your song doesn't work…"
"We'll play ours."
Noen smiled — warm, steady.
> "And if it does…"
"Then maybe… we'll all become part of the same song."
---
End of Chapter 5
Silence to sound… sound to storm.
The rebellion is tuning itself.