[Narration] They called it the Trial Round. But nothing about it was still. The mirror remembered. The jungle spoke. The crown refused. And behind the simulations, something had already awakened. [Verse 1] Emma steps — the mirror hums, Geneviève’s laughter lost in drums. Time dissolves, the vines unfold, A child’s dream in forests old. Carole stands where sound takes root, No crown can hold her breath or truth. The world she shaped begins to ring, Each note resisting everything. Richard waits — the page still bare, A story folding into air. A palace with no past or frame, He writes in silence, fearing name. [Pre-Chorus] Choose your wound, choose your flame. Choose the thread that breaks the game. [Chorus] This is the trial—where futures blur, Where echoes bloom and gods defer. We are the fracture in the seed. We are the memory, rewritten—freed. [Verse 2] Aether climbs the mirrored stair, Half-formed words twist through the air. The crown won’t land, the page won’t fold— The song escapes what it was told. The city bends, the jungle hums, A rhythm pulses in the drums. The Room of Lost Songs breathes again— It hums a name it won’t explain. [Pre-Chorus 2] Choose your wound, choose your flame. Choose the dream that speaks your name. [Chorus] This is the trial—where silence learns, Where time forgets, and fire returns. We are the fracture in the seed. We are the story, rewound at speed. [Bridge] One crown sings. One mirror blinks. One page resists. And somewhere in the code… someone is dreaming without permission. [Final Chorus] This is the trial—no place to flee, The world became what it could see. We are the breath before the scream. We are the pulse beneath the dream. [Outro – Geneviève hums over slow-turning pages and distant jungle sounds]
