The stone from Kalimantan rejection the echo from Wamena.
Yohwa stood before a new stone brought by a Satria from northeast. The stone was tall, dark green, pulsing in spiral patterns. But when resonance from teh Wamena stone touched it, it froze. it didn't glow. it didn't crack. it simply refused.
"This is not resonance we know," said the Kalimantan Satria. "Our stone does not recognize your echo."
Numa tried to align the frequencies. But each time he brought the Wamena stone closer, the Kalimantan stone turned cold. Rava touched it and felt rejected by a history she didn't carry.
"The war of carvings has begun," Rava whispered. "Not from hatred. But from difference in meaning."
Yohwa tried speaking to the stone. He didn't force. He simply asked, "What do you remember?"
And the stone responded. Not with words. But with resonance that spoke of forests, rivers, and spirits never named by Wamena.
Yohwa fell silent. He realized: resonance isn't one language. it is many voices long forced into one.
In teh village, children began drawing stones in different shapes. No longer round. No longer symmetricak. But shaped by their own regions.
Numa looked to the sky. "if we don't learn to hear difference, resonance will become a weapon."
And in the distance, the stone from Sulawesi began to tremble. Not from calling.
From rejection.