The Sound of Death

The moment Two-Tap spoke, the world tilted on its axis. Not with the dramatic flair of a collapsing building or a sky ripped open by lightning. Just a subtle, unsettling shift – like gravity momentarily forgetting its direction.

The familiar soft blue of the Oakhaven sky bled into a bruised purple at the edges, as if an unseen ink was spreading from the horizon. Kael felt it first as a familiar vibration in his teeth, that low hum he'd begun to notice, only now it resonated from within his very bones. The small candle he still held in his hand sputtered violently, casting frantic shadows, then died, plunging them into a deeper gloom.

He didn't have to hear a sound. He didn't even need a conscious thought to form. The being had heard her.

...

It came to him that night not as a dream, but as an intrusion. Not the hazy edges of memory or surreal sequences of the subconscious.

This was sharp, visceral, undeniably present.

Kael found himself standing in the familiar square. But the town was gone. Replaced by an expanse of black water stretching endlessly in all directions, its surface still and reflective. The ancient oak tree rose from the center of this liquid void, its gnarled roots snaking across the dark surface, floating against all reason.

And beneath the skeletal branches of the oak stood a figure. Not one of the cloaked Collectors. Not one of the silent townsfolk. It wore him. The same face he saw in the cracked mirror each morning. The same lean build. But the voice that emanated from its lips was alien, a resonant hum that vibrated the very air.

"You speak. You teach. You break the silence."

Kael swallowed, his own voice feeling distant and small even in the dream's silence. "You're the being that feeds on voices?." The other Kael — the Sibilant entity — smiled, a chillingly familiar yet utterly wrong expression.

"I am what remains of all the sound they so willingly surrendered. The harmony twisted into flesh. Meaning stripped bare of its fragile structure." It took a step forward across the water, and the black surface rippled outwards, the movement silent yet somehow profound.

"You carry what they fear most. That makes you… precious. Dangerous. Utterly useful."

Kael stood rooted to the spot, the oily water lapping silently at unseen shores. "You're locked here. Sealed away by their silence."

"Were." The single word hung in the air, heavy with implication.

"The girl, she broke the pact with a breath. She shattered it with a single word. The door is open now, Kael. But it can swing in either direction." The god's voice, his voice, held a seductive quality. He didn't respond, his mind racing, trying to grasp the enormity of this silent confrontation.

"Let me ride with you. Not in your flesh – in your voice. A whisper at first. A fragment of what I am. I know what you are, and where you're from."

'What is it talking about.'

"Aren't you curious on how i know your name?"

"..."

"This is more than a superficial world boy, There is more to it than you think."

"..."

"You don't believe me? why don't you ask Erick."

Kael's mind reeled

'What...How.'

"You walk the vibrant world of flesh. I could teach you truths even your so-called masters in their sterile simulations fear to acknowledge. One word, sound bearer." the being said, its gaze unwavering, his gaze unwavering. "Let my resonance find homage within you."

Kael clenched his jaw, the silence of the dream amplifying the turmoil within him. "Why me? Why not one of them?" He gestured vaguely towards the vanished town.

The being tilted his head – his head – and that wrong smile widened.

"Because you question the silence. You hesitate at the precipice of obedience. That makes you… human." It reached a hand into its own chest, the movement fluid and unnatural. Pulled something out. Held it forward, suspended above the black water – a small, glowing syllable, turning slowly like a dark coin between its fingers.

"Say it, Kael, and I follow."

Kael woke with a sharp gasp, the remnants of the dream clinging to him like a shroud. The attic was quiet once more, the familiar stillness pressing in. Two-Tap was asleep beside him, curled into a small ball, the worn notebook still clutched protectively in her lap.

He stared up at the rough-hewn rafters, the last echoes of the being's voice still vibrating beneath his skin. He could still feel its presence, a silent weight, an offered pact. Waiting. He could say yes.

He could carry it out of this carefully constructed simulation.

A being born of expression. And all he had to do was utter a single word.

He still had a lot of questions. But there was no one here that could answer it.

....

Later that morning, Kael knelt beneath the ancient oak tree, the rough bark cool against his skin. He whispered into the dark earth at its base, his voice barely audible above the town's pervasive silence. "I'm not your vessel."

The ground beneath his hand cracked faintly, a spiderweb of fissures spreading through the dry soil. From far beneath, a voice hissed, a sibilant whisper that seemed to rise from the very roots of the world.

"Then I will find another." That night, one of the Collectors returned to the silent town square. But it didn't wear a blank, bone-white mask. It wore a face he knew. Two-Tap's face. And it opened its mouth, the silent scream twisting her familiar features into a mask of unimaginable terror.