The sky above Chroma Shard hummed like a cello string as Ren stepped onto the next floating platform. The gate behind him dissolved in a ripple of pastel mist, and ahead lay something entirely different.
Instead of towers painted in color or streets marked by brushstrokes, this place pulsed with sound.
Literal, physical sound.
The city in the clouds shimmered like a crystal equalizer—spires shaped like tuning forks, streets paved in black-and-white tiles that rang out notes with every step. Melodies echoed from the walls, woven into the architecture. Even the trees whistled quietly, shifting tones as the wind passed through their hollow, silver branches.
Above it all, a glowing sign spun lazily in the sky:
🎵 Welcome to Harmonica Heights 🎵
Let your soul find its rhythm.
Ren blinked. "Okay. This is officially the weirdest airport I've ever landed in."
A short man with enormous ears and a coat made of chimes appeared beside him with a clang. He smiled. "You must be the Visitor! Excellent! We've been expecting you."
"Let me guess," Ren said. "You need help with something."
"Not at all!" said the man, handing him a ticket stub. "You're just in time for the Great Soundfall Festival! Entry is free. Participation is mandatory."
Before Ren could protest, a swarm of musical notes in the shape of doves picked him up and carried him toward the central plaza.
◇
In the heart of Harmonica Heights, a massive amphitheater shimmered with golden soundwaves. Hundreds of performers warmed up—dancers, singers, instrumentalists, even a guy juggling tambourines.
The city's mayor, a grand woman named Cadencia, approached Ren. Her voice carried like an opera diva's, rich and velvety.
"Traveler," she said. "In our city, every soul carries a rhythm. To stay, you must find yours."
Ren blinked. "Do I… have to sing?"
Cadencia grinned. "Not necessarily. You must perform. Create harmony. Prove that you can resonate."
A ghostly violin floated toward him, strings thrumming.
"Uhh…" Ren looked around. "Anyone got a recorder? Maybe a triangle?"
"Nope," said Cadencia. "Your instrument will find you."
The violin burst into flames and shattered.
Instead, a glowing loop pedal hovered before him, humming with energy.
Ren cautiously touched it—and saw flashes.
Scenes from his past.
Marching band class.
Late-night playlists.
Tap dancing on rain-soaked sidewalks.
Beating on desks during boring lectures.
The loop pedal pulsed, syncing to him.
And just like that, music began to build.
◇
He didn't perform the best. Or the loudest.
But as Ren layered rhythm after rhythm—laughter, heartbeat, raindrops on glass—a strange hush fell over the city.
The crowd leaned in.
For the first time in years, the people of Harmonica Heights felt stillness.
Then came the applause. Wild. Free.
He had passed.
Cadencia smiled.
"Congratulations," she said. "Your rhythm is raw, but true. But be warned—the Soundfall is not only a celebration. It is a barrier. Without it, the Disharmony would rise."
Ren tilted his head. "The Disharmony?"
She didn't answer.
Just pointed at the moon.
It was cracked.
And from the cracks came the sound of static.