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**Chapter 133: The Voices of the Forgotten**
The vineyard trembled in the weight of revelation. The figures that had risen from the soil were neither fully solid nor merely spectral. They flickered, their presence woven into the roots, bound to the land itself. The air was thick with something ancient—an energy that pressed into the siblings, demanding recognition.
Elena stepped forward despite the pressure mounting in her chest. The pendant at her neck glowed fiercely, pulsing in sync with the vineyard's heartbeat. "They aren't just remnants," she murmured. "They are part of the vineyard's foundation."
Matteo kept his stance firm, his gaze sharp and unwavering. "They were bound to the land for a reason," he said. "The vineyard didn't just bury them—it kept them."
Isabella's fists clenched. "Then we don't let them stay hidden anymore," she said. "We face them."
Luca's sharp instincts guided his movements, his gaze scanning the vineyard's restless shadows. "They aren't just watching us," he muttered. "They remember."
Carlo stood at the center, his grip tight around the ornate box. His expression was unreadable, but when he spoke, his voice was heavier than before. "The vineyard demanded answers," he said. "And now it demands justice."
Elena turned to him, a chill creeping up her spine. "What do they want?" she asked. "What was taken from them?"
Carlo's silence stretched for a long, unbearable moment. Then, finally, he spoke. "A choice was made," he said. "One that shaped the land—one that cost lives."
Pietro let out a sharp, humorless laugh, though there was nothing mocking in his voice this time. "And now the past wants to collect its debt," he muttered. "Perfect."
The wind surged again, carrying whispers that were no longer fragmented. The vineyard had given its warning. The figures had returned.
And now, they would speak.
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