Gaia Chronicles: The Integral Saga

Before Gaia.Before the title of Synthesis 15,Before the world gave her a name that echoed through the halls of heroes—She was simply Eun-Ha.And silence had always been her only friend.

Born in a forgotten temple nestled between the icy mountains of Gangwon Province, South Korea, Eun-Ha was raised by a group of ascetics known as the Order of the White Breath—a remote sect that revered divine ether as sacred and pure. No machines. No wars. Only the breath, the spirit, and the quiet.

She was different from birth.

Eyes like liquid onyx. Skin pale as porcelain. She never cried as a baby. Never screamed, never laughed. But when she touched the temple's ceremonial stones at age three, light radiated outward—calm, gentle, but impossible to ignore. Birds circled above. Wind bent to her fingertips.

"She is not chosen," the Elder had whispered that night. "She is touched."

Touched, yes. But cursed too.

Every year, the more she meditated, the more divine energy built within her. Her mere presence repelled the sick and calmed the mad. But animals avoided her. Plants withered where she lingered too long. And when she grew angry—once, just once—the shrine cracked in two. A pulse of uncontrolled Divinity nearly wiped the monastery from the mountainside.

The Order was afraid.

So they sealed her voice with a silver-threaded choker—a spiritual limiter.Not to suppress her soul.But to protect the world from it.

At age eleven, Gaia found her.

Not because they were looking.But because the divine ether signature she emitted had become too large to ignore.

Thea Synthesis 0 and Irene Synthesis 3 arrived personally, after Leonardo dispatched an urgent recon. When they first laid eyes on Eun-Ha, she was seated in the middle of a frozen pond, unmoving, surrounded by ten monks in prayer. Snowflakes didn't dare fall on her shoulders. The air around her hummed.

"She's not like us," Irene whispered."No," Thea replied softly. "She's not. But she's not meant to be alone."

Gaia offered to bring her in, but the Order refused.So Eun-Ha made the choice herself.

She spoke her first word in years to Thea that night:"Please."

Her arrival at Gaia HQ was quiet. Clinical. Controlled.

She barely spoke.She didn't smile.And yet… wherever she walked, the air lightened.

Knights with injuries healed faster around her. Crying cadets calmed. Even restless Artifacts trembled in stillness when she meditated near them.

When the time came for her to face the Trial of Solmaria, the divine cross-staff, the Artifact required no summoning.

It descended from its pedestal the moment she entered the chamber.

There was no pain. No illusion. No challenge.

The Trial was her.

She simply knelt, placed her hand on the base of Solmaria, and closed her eyes.

In that moment, the Artifact—bound to the concept of divine judgment—judged her.And found no guilt.

Eun-Ha rose. Light cloaked her like a second skin. Solmaria floated behind her shoulder like a sun halo.

The Council didn't debate it.She became the fifteenth Integral Knight.Eun-Ha Synthesis 15.

But Divinity is lonely.

Even within Gaia, she remained apart. Respected, yes—but distant. She often sat in gardens, speaking only to the wind. People called her "saint," "goddess," even "miracle."

No one called her friend.

Not until Cyg.

He was the first to look at her and not bow.The first to speak plainly.To see not the Divinity… but the girl.

They rarely talked. But when they did, it was real.

He would stand beside her and say things like:"You don't have to carry the whole world, you know."

She'd reply, barely louder than a breeze:"I don't. Just the quiet parts."

Eun-Ha became the spiritual center of the Integral Knights.

She was not a commander. Not a warrior of fury.But when she stood on the battlefield, the Abyss paused.

When she healed with her divine radiance, soldiers wept.When she whispered a prayer, cities rose again.

She did not shine to be seen.She shone because it was all she knew how to do.

But deep in her heart, she feared something.

What if this power isn't meant to save?What if it was meant to end things beautifully?

She didn't tell anyone that.Not yet.

But the more time she spent with Mia's gentle smiles, Charlotte's chaotic ideas, Sylvia's strong voice, Harriet's bold fire, Elaine's joy—and Cyg's silence that reflected hers—

The more she began to wonder:

Maybe she wasn't born to end things.

Maybe she was born to begin something new.