We were pressed against the bridge window, staring in disbelief at the sight before us.
The Sky Whale before our eyes, 'Orka Maris', was not merely a living creature.
It was a living floating island, a moving continent forged by a primordial god.
Its sheer scale was impossible to measure by familiar concepts like earthly mountains or oceans.
Rather, it was more like a solitary planet, possessing its own gravity and climate, drifting through the universe of the sky.
Its skin, deeply wrinkled like an ancient map etched with tens of thousands of years, was not a mere surface but a vast topography of canyons and valleys.
From that rugged terrain, massive waterfalls flowed like rivers, shattering in the sunlight to create eternal rainbows before pouring down into the vast sea of clouds below.
Its mountain-sized eye was the color of a deep, blue abyss, yet it held not only the wisdom of creation but also an unexplainable, profound sadness.
This was not a mere animal, but living history itself—a witness to the beginning and end of the world.
Around the massive body of Orka Maris, a diverse array of sky-fish orbited like satellites around a planet, coexisting in their own ecosystem.
In the whale's wake, pure Aether particles left a long trail like the Milky Way, and swarms of thousands—no, tens of thousands—of 'Starlight Coral Fish' followed, feeding on the particles.
Their coordinated dance, glowing like stardust from within their crystalline bodies, looked like a living river of lanterns lighting the way in the dark sky-sea.
A little closer, giant manta ray-shaped sky-fish glided elegantly, feeding on the harmful parasitic plants growing on the whale's skin.
They were not mere predators, but gardeners tending to this massive continent.
The sight of all this, woven together, was a marvelous scene of symbiosis, proving that Orka Maris was not just a creature, but a complete world unto itself.
On the whale's back, a dense forest of trees, easily thousands of years old, thrived, and nestled within it, the city 'Echora' was set like a jewel.
Not a single steel building existed in Echora.
Houses were carved from the hollows of giant trees or woven from living branches. Paths were covered in glowing moss, and bridges were formed from magically bloomed flowers and vines.
The entire city, with its gentle curves, was like an organic life form, breathing in unison with the land.
"This is..."
Beside me, Leon muttered in a daze. Even in his awe, his eyes were relentlessly analyzing the phenomenon before him.
"This is impossible... To have its own floating Aether circulatory system and a pressure-regulating organ at the same time... This defies all laws of physics and biology!"
He pulled out his data-pad and began to frantically record the scene. But I was different.
Amidst the wondrous beauty of the city, I felt an unexplainable, deep sadness.
My gaze didn't rest on the brilliant crystal structures, but on a single small, blue flower near the waterfall, which bloomed weakly before letting its head fall limp. It was as if it were weeping.
As the Lumina Lip lowered its altitude, the source of my unease slowly revealed itself.
The forest, which had looked lush from a distance, was dead in patches of ash-gray up close. The river, which had shone like crystal, was murky and stagnant, having lost its vitality.
In the city where a song of life should have been heard, only a heavy, sad silence lingered.
"Jayn! I think that's a landing pad over there!"
The landing pad, 'grown' over centuries by weaving together the branches of massive, ancient trees, was a colossal work of art in itself.
Its surface was covered in soft moss, thick enough for our feet to sink into, and along its edges, blue-glowing bioluminescent mushrooms shone gently, like runway guidance lights.
But the moment we gently landed the Lumina Lip on that living pad, we knew we were unwelcome guests.
The instant the ship settled onto the moss, dozens of Guardians emerged silently from the forest shadows, completely surrounding us.
They didn't make a single sound, but their movements were as agile as highly trained hunters.
Sharpened obsidian spear tips aimed at us in unison. The air grew tense, ready to snap.
Their apparent leader, a young warrior named Kairen with bronze skin and blue tattoos, stepped forward. Blatant hostility burned in his eyes.
"Stop, outsiders! Remove that plague-ridden mass of steel from this place at once!"
When Leon took an urgent step forward to explain, the Guardians' spears twitched threateningly. I, too, instinctively gripped the handle of the Sky-Hammer at my hip.
"Calm yourself, Kairen."
It was a tense, hair-trigger moment. A girl stepped forward to stop them.
Silver hair scattered in the wind, and clear, turquoise eyes as deep as a forest lake. A small, blue gem was embedded in her forehead—the mark of the next Shaman.
Lilia Astarea.
At her calm voice, Kairen's murderous expression softened, just for a moment.
He reluctantly lowered his spear, just slightly, but his eyes never lost their vigilance.
The other Guardians followed his lead, shifting from an attack stance to one of alert.
Lilia walked past Kairen and approached us. She looked young, but her composed demeanor held a dignity that seemed to represent the entire city.
First, Lilia extended a hand toward the Lumina Lip. She kept her distance, just barely, as if afraid to touch something unclean.
She closed her eyes and frowned at the irregular, coarse mechanical vibration flowing from the ship.
"Outsiders. Your steel bird sickens the air here, our mother's breath. What is your purpose?"
"We were shipwrecked! We just need food and water. We have no intention of causing harm..."
Leon tried to explain urgently, but Lilia's gaze had already shifted away from the ship.
Beyond the ship's noise, she sensed an alien, yet clear and pure, Aether vibration and narrowed her eyes.
Her gaze slowly moved, stopping on me—the source of the vibration.
At her piercing stare, I didn't flinch. Instead, I raised one corner of my mouth into a crooked smile. My way of saying hello.
Just then, breaking the taut tension, a small child who had been hiding behind a tree revealed himself.
It was Noah, a young boy with a small flying squirrel named 'Winkle' on his shoulder.
Unlike the adults' wariness, his eyes sparkled with pure curiosity.
Winkle chirped from Noah's shoulder, then boldly leaped to the ground, scurried over, and began sniffing at Leon's boot.
Lilia's gaze wavered for a moment.
She seemed to be weighing the 'threat' of the outsiders against the child's pure curiosity, and the strange Aether she felt from my body.
Soon, she let out a small sigh and motioned to Kairen.
"For now, take them to the 'Great Listener'. She will decide."
We were led by Kairen and the Guardians toward the city center.
As we crossed bridges formed from the intertwined trunks of living trees and walked along mossy paths lit by glowing mushrooms, the residents of Echora whispered as they saw us, their voices a mixture of fear and hostility.
"They smell of steel..."
"They must have brought the sickness."
"What if the Mother becomes sicker?"
Amidst their whispers, we came face to face with the tragic sight of this paradise's rotting heart.
At the center of the city stood what must have once been a colossal 'Mother Tree', soaring to the sky.
But now, it was a massive ruin, with only skeletal branches remaining, burned black all the way to its core.
In front of the tree's remains, an old woman sat in meditation.
Hair as white as clouds, a face as deeply wrinkled as old bark. She was the current Shaman and 'Great Listener', Elara.
Without even turning her head toward us, she spoke, her voice weak but dignified.
"Your eyes... they hold a strange sadness. Like... like the sadness of those who lost the song of the stars, long ago..."
While I stood there, bewildered by her cryptic words, Leon couldn't hold back.
"Excuse me, but we need help. What on earth happened to this city...?"
Elara slowly raised her head. Her clouded eyes turned toward me.
"The heart of our city, the Sky Whale, 'Orka Maris', has fallen ill. Her pain is transmitted through the land, and all life is dying with her."
"Ill? What's the cause? An external virus, or is it internal...?"
"The cause is the 'pollutants of machine civilization' spread by people like you!"
It was Kairen who cut Leon off. He pulled a clump of moss, black and soaked with oil, from his pouch and threw it down in front of us.
"This is the proof! Found near the landing pad where your steel bird is resting. For a while now, the same poison of cold iron and oil—your kind of poison—has begun to seep from Orka Maris's body!"
His words were a trigger. The murmuring of the gathered crowd turned into open accusation.
"Look at them! Their ship has the same toxic smell!"
"Outsiders like you are the ones who made the whale sick!"
"That's absurd! How is that proof we did anything? We just arrived! This is just a setup!"
Leon retorted furiously, but I couldn't say anything. Not because of the accusations.
It was because, through the ground beneath my feet, through the husk of the dead 'Mother Tree', I was beginning to feel a faint echo of Orka Maris's vast, endless pain.
That was when it happened.
Ruuuuuuumble—
From far away, near the head of Orka Maris, the 'Song of Life' echoed out. But it was not a song of blessing.
It was a low, sad moan, so painful it felt like it could tear the soul of anyone who heard it.
And that sound... it wasn't just a sound.
It was a massive wave of pain that pierced my entire body.
"Kugh...!"
I stopped breathing.
An agonizing pain, as if thousands of needles were stabbing my brain, washed over me, followed by the vivid sensations of cold steel nails digging into my flesh and a nauseating heat, like hot oil, flowing through my veins.
I staggered, clutching my head.
The world spun.
"Jayn! What's wrong!"
Leon cried out, moving to support me.
The air around us suddenly grew cold. The skeletal branches of the dead 'Mother Tree' began to tremble minutely.
And from my left eye, a faint but clear, blue Aether flame began to flicker like a mirage.
It was different from the one that had burned with anger in Rust Haven; this was a blue flame that shimmered with sadness and empathy.
The other residents, not understanding my pain, just continued to murmur, but two people were different.
Lilia gasped in shock, her eyes fixed on the blue flame rising from my eye.
And Elara, who had her eyes closed, opened them. Her clouded gaze focused on me.
She felt the pure wave of Orka Maris's pain flowing through me, and she let out a disbelieving whisper.
"This vibration... could it be... Arkelos's...?"