A thousand years passed—
and the World of Song had grown vast beyond imagining.
The rivers of resonance had carved continents of light; the sky itself had become a living manuscript, where new civilizations wove their dreams into melody. Empires rose not by blade or crown, but by the strength of their harmony. Each people carried their own verse, each city its own rhythm. Some sang through crystal towers that floated among clouds; others through ocean choirs whose voices shaped the tides.
And in the heart of the world—where the five lights of the Chord of Dawn once aligned—stood the Hall of Resonance, a city-temple said to be built upon the very pulse of the first note.
Here, the newborn generations came to listen.
To remember.
To hear the architects.
For though the five no longer walked the world, their echoes remained.
The sky still shimmered with Milim's laughter when lightning broke.
The mountains still hummed with Naval's pulse when storms gathered.
