The Whispering Silence Chamber sat deep in the northern forest—three hours' walk from Qara City, hidden between ancient oaks whose roots created natural sound barriers. Syra stood before the structure her mother had built: a small wooden hut buried under layers of earth, moss, and leaves. A curved wind tunnel spiraled into its heart, designed to filter out every sound except the ghost-whisper of moving air.
"Get inside," Riya said. She stood twenty meters away, arms crossed, SS+ Fire affinity making the air shimmer around her. "You have six hours. Don't come out until you've touched it."
Syra's whitish-green hair moved slightly in natural breeze. Not the wavy, weightless motion of Ariel Mode. Just normal wind. Disappointing.
"And if I don't touch it in six hours?" Syra asked. Calm. Deliberate. Controlled.
"Then you stay another six hours," Riya replied. "And another. Until you find the frequency or your body collapses from mana depletion. Either outcome teaches you something."
