The cavern was silent except for faint pulses rising from the Hollow Root. The golden glow dimmed and brightened like slow breathing. Warm lines flowed up its surface then faded. Cold lines formed along cracks like frost. Bitter trails crawled along deep fractures. The fourth tone steadied under everything but grew fainter with each pulse.

Lira studied the root with caution. She asked if touching it was dangerous. I said the danger depended on the tone. Warm tone wanted to connect. Cold tone wanted to warn. Bitter tone wanted to restrain. And the fourth tone wanted to speak. But all of them fought each other now. Touching the wrong line could destroy us. Touching the right one might guide us.

The scouts stayed near the back of the chamber. Their scents carried fear and awe. I approached the Hollow Root slowly. My senses expanded with each step. The root’s scent hit in full force. Warm tones bursting like ripe berries. Cold tones snapping like cracked ice. Bitter tones humming like deep stone. And the fourth tone thrumming like the core of an ancient bell.

I placed my hand near the root but did not touch it. I inhaled deeply. The fourth tone pulsed upward. It tasted like the oldest soil. Like a storm before storms existed. Like a memory too heavy for words. My tongue trembled. The fourth flavor was not meant for humans. But I was not a normal taster anymore.

I leaned in and whispered. Show me.

The Hollow Root responded.

Warm tone shot upward in a rush. The cavern glowed orange for a moment. My senses filled with flavor of sunlight and fruit skins. Creation. Beginnings. The first breath of the world. Then the warm tone broke apart.

Cold tone surged. The cavern dimmed into silver. The air tasted of frost and clarity. Precision. Edges. The lines between things. The first shape of the world. Then the cold tone cracked apart.

Bitter tone rose next. Black smoke crawled along the root. The air tasted of ash and heavy soil. Boundaries. Endings. Limits. The edge between life and collapse. Then the bitter tone dissolved.

Then the fourth tone surged.

Everything froze.

No warm
No cold
No bitter
Only deep golden resonance filling the world

I tasted the fourth flavor in a single breath. Heavy sweetness like fruit that never grew. Earthy thickness like soil before seeds existed. Warmth without heat. Coldness without frost. Bitterness without pain. A flavor beyond flavor. A taste of foundation.

And behind it a memory.

Not mine.

The world’s.

In a single flash I saw forests rise. Rivers carve land. Mana flow like invisible rivers. I saw warm tone create life. I saw cold tone shape it. I saw bitter tone give it boundaries. I saw the fourth tone anchor it all.

Then everything fractured.

A shadow moved beneath the world and cracked the fourth tone. Warm tone scattered. Cold tone thinned. Bitter tone tightened. The foundation weakened. The world lost its rhythm.

That fracture began the cold sweetness
The bitter echo
The mana storms
The wild mutations
The breathing forests
The crystallizing plants

All symptoms
Of the fourth tone breaking

The root released me. I gasped and stumbled back. Lira caught me before I fell. My hands trembled. The scouts rushed forward but she waved them off.

I whispered. I saw the first memory of the world.

Lira’s voice shook. What did it show.

I swallowed. My tongue tasted like earth and storms. My chest felt tight.

The fourth tone cracked ages ago. And it has been breaking ever since. Everything we face is the echo of that wound.

Lira stared at the Hollow Root. The golden glow pulsed slower.

The scouts asked what that meant.

I answered with a heavy breath.

It means the world is not dying
It is trying to repair itself
And we are standing inside its wound

The cavern rumbled. Cracks spread along the far wall. Cold sweetness poured through like pale mist. Bitter smoke escaped from deeper tunnels. Warm sparks flared in scattered bursts.

The fourth tone whispered again inside my skull.

Taste the root further
Taste the fracture
Taste the truth
Taste the cure

I looked at Lira. She nodded even before I spoke.

We had to go deeper.

The Hollow Root stretched downward into the earth like a golden spine.

And we would follow it
Even if the world broke around us