After withdrawing from the place, Shizuhana gathered all her devotees—Tathuvan, Ruvyastra, Sorin Shinji, Murayama, and Balduryon—along with her followers in a vast meadow, illuminated only by the two moons hanging high above, pale and watching over the world. A gentle breeze swayed the silver grasses as Shizuhana walked among her devotees, enveloped in a serenity that seemed otherworldly. Her steps were soft, as if she were floating upon the wind.
Without a word, she bent down and plucked a flower. Small, delicate, with pearly petals that reflected the faint moonlight. She held it up, letting all observe it.
"Before we called it a 'flower'... what was it?"
The gathered ones exchanged glances. No one answered.
Shizuhana slowly turned the flower between her fingers.
"It was everything."
"It could have been anything… the breath of the wind, a wandering thought in the mind of a creator, a formless possibility. But by giving it a name, by calling it 'flower,' we have diminished it… we have condemned it to be only one thing among many—everything else was stripped away."
Some of the devotees nodded, beginning to understand. Others frowned, uncertain of where she was leading them.
"That is the nature of the world," she continued. "That is the nature of all things we know. From the beginning, the gods have shaped existence, imposing names, meanings, and limits upon everything they touched. They have sculpted the universe with their will… but in the process, they have destroyed its colorless essence."
Shizuhana closed her hand, trapping the flower.
"Before the world was called 'world,' what was it?"
No one answered.
"Before we were called 'gods,' what were we?"
The silence among the devotees grew heavier.
She opened her hand. The flower, crushed between her fingers, was no longer the same. Its shattered petals slipped through her fingers like ashes.
"The Path of Negation," she declared, letting the ruined petals fall to the ground, "is the only road to the truth of all truths. Not the truth that the gods have decreed. Not the truth stained by meaning. But the Colorless Truth. The one that exists without the need for names. Without form, without bonds, without distortion."
The wind suddenly rose, stirring her hair. The meadow seemed to hold its breath. Shizuhana's gaze swept over her devotees, observing them one by one.
"I offer you the chance to follow me on this path," she said, looking at her followers with an intensity that pierced the skin and reached the soul. "But know that there is no return. You will walk into the unknown, abandoning all certainty, everything you believe yourselves to be. For only then can you touch what has never been touched before—the truth before truth."
Everything fell into silence. It was a proposal so great it could mark a before and after in all eternity.
Then, a trembling voice broke the stillness.
"Master…"
One of the followers, a young woman with dark hair and eyes pale as the moon, stepped forward.
"If we destroy all definitions… if we deny everything… what will remain?"
For the first time in so long, Shizuhana smiled.
"Freedom."
The young woman lowered her head, pondering her words.
Another follower stepped forward, a man with a face hardened by doubt. "But if we deny everything, if we undo the truths that uphold this world, won't we also undo ourselves?"
"That depends," Shizuhana answered, her gaze piercing his. "What are you, truly? Are you only what you have been told you are? Are you just a form with a name? Or is there something in you that exists beyond all words?"
The man opened his mouth, but no answer came.
Shizuhana extended her arms, looking around.
"This is what I offer you."
She pointed to the crushed flower in her hand.
"To destroy what limits us. To destroy the veil of definitions. To destroy the prison of the known."
Then she pointed to the starry sky.
"And in that void… in that abyss beyond all certainties… to find the Colorless Truth."
Her words faded into the night.
One by one, the devotees lowered their heads. Uncertainty still weighed on them, but in their eyes, something else had begun to flicker—the echo of an emerging understanding, the call of a path no one had ever walked before.
And then, Shizuhana turned again, advancing through the meadow.
One follower was the first to follow. Then another. And another.
Until, at last, the moon bore witness to the march of those who were willing to abandon everything they knew… in search of the truth that existed before all truth: The Colorless Truth.