It took longer than before to pass through the heart of the Shadow. Koyoi counted to thirty before the gray within the train car began to peel away.
Back at the previous Shadow’s center, the colors had started to return by the count of fifteen. It was taking nearly twice as long now. Yet, the gray that remained after they emerged was faint.
"The shadow has grown longer, but it's thinner."
Koyoi looked out the window. The gray was peeling back in uneven patches, exposing the colors beneath. Usually, the world was entirely smothered in gray, but this time it had been mottled from the start. The power of the Shadow was no longer uniform.
"The further north we go, the lower the density of the Shadow becomes."
Kuon checked the Catalog. There were fewer pages covered in gray than before. The golden veins on the paper glowed with a newfound brilliance.
"The surveillance network of the Kotowari is thinning. In the south, the net was woven so tight there wasn't a single gap; here, it is full of holes."
Asahi sank deep into his seat, his greatsword resting across his knees. "Is it a good thing that it's thin?"
"It is a double-edged sword. If the Kotowari’s surveillance is weak, it is easier for us to move. However—"
Kuon looked out the window. Through the mist, voids of absolute nothingness stretched out intermittently. No ruins of buildings, no cobblestones—just a white abyss yawning behind the fog.
"There is no protection, either. The power that maintains the freezing of Names is weak. That is why the ice was cracking back in Hoshifuri. The freeze is beginning to thaw."
"What happens if it thaws?"
"The Names emerge from the ice. Without the protection of the Kotowari, those Names will simply dissipate. They don't vanish; they dilute. They dissolve into the air, never to be gathered again."
Koyoi looked down at his pouch. "These little ones, too?"
"As long as they are inside that pouch, your warmth acts as their protection. But if they were to step outside—"
Kuon didn't finish the thought. He didn't have to.
The landscape beyond the window shifted. A slender tree appeared amidst the mist. Its branches were leafless, but the trunk was alive. Silver-gray bark stood in the fog, radiating a faint, ethereal light.
Koyoi’s eyes widened. "A tree... I’ve never seen one before."
Every town they had visited until now had been composed of stone, mist, and particles of information. There had been no plants. For the first time on this journey, living organic matter was visible outside the window.
"Proof that the Kotowari’s control is failing," Kuon said with a sigh. There was a faint trace of a bookmark's handwriting in his voice. "The Kotowari manages information. Stone, mist, and Names—those are its jurisdiction. But plants are not information. In places where its control is weak, things outside its authority can grow."
"Outside its authority..."
"It might be the world’s true form, from before the First God froze the Names. A time when there were no Names, no Kotowari, and no Observers."
More trees appeared. Two this time. Their branches intertwined, forming a natural arch in the mist.
Koyoi pressed his hand against the window. Through the glass, he could feel the presence of the living wood. It wasn't warmth. It was simply there. A definitive sense of existence, wholly different from the artificiality of the stone and mist.
The train slowed. Asahi stood up. "Is there another town?"
"Hoshino," Kuon replied. "A settlement north of Hoshifuri. There is almost no mention of it in the Catalog. Only the name remains."
Faint white lights appeared, but they were spaced far apart. There were very few lanterns here.
The train came to a halt. The doors slid open, and a breeze rushed in. It was cold, but it carried more than just a chill.
It smelled of earth. The damp, heavy scent of living soil.
Koyoi took a deep breath. On a journey that had smelled only of stone, paper, and ink, this was the first time he had ever smelled the earth. The pouch at his side pulsed with a warm thrum. He felt as if Shizuku were whispering: It’s close.