[Descent into Madness 4] - The Choir's Requiem

Raven stepped into the vast chamber, his boots echoing against the cold stone floor. The crypt had transformed into something far grander—a cathedral of the dead.

Pews lined the sides, empty and rotting, yet filled with the weight of unseen figures. A cracked organ stood against the far wall, its pipes broken, yet a haunting melody drifted through the air as if played by phantom hands.

Duskrunner tensed. "This place stinks of madness."

Raven exhaled, rolling his shoulders. "Yeah. And it sings, too."

The music swelled, and from above, shrouded figures descended from the cathedral's ceiling, their ethereal forms flickering between reality and illusion. Their mouths were unseen, yet their voices—many voices, layered and suffocating—filled the chamber with a haunting operatic harmony.

Raven's heartbeat faltered.

The song wasn't just sound—it crawled under his skin, threading into his thoughts like a whisper that wasn't his own.

For a split second, he forgot where he was. He forgot who he was.

The cathedral's organ let out a deep, shuddering note—then the Choir screamed.

It wasn't just sound. It was a force, a tidal wave of agony that ripped through his skull like shattered glass. A skill he was too late to dodge.

Raven's vision blurred as pain spiked through his eardrums, turning his senses into static. His body wasn't just pulled backward—it felt like something was trying to tear his soul from his flesh.

His boots skidded across the stone, his breath caught between a gasp and a choke.

Move—MOVE!

Duskrunner howled in frustration before activating Wraith Dash, blurring through the air to anchor himself against one of the ruined pews. He dug his claws into the stone, stopping himself before he could be flung away.

"Master—move!"

Raven clenched his jaw and twisted, slamming the Lantern Fragment into the ground. The spectral light pulsed, shattering the illusionary force dragging him backward. His body lurched forward, breaking free just as the wailing crescendoed into silence.

The Choir hovered, their forms flickering violently, the song reaching its final refrain.

Raven's eyes locked onto one figure—the only phantom whose shadow remained still despite the flickering light.

His Cursed Chain snapped to life, the serrated edge gleaming with abyssal energy.

"Duskrunner—distract the rest!"

The wolf dashed forward, snapping at the flickering phantoms, forcing them to shift unpredictably.

Raven hurled his chain, the bladed tip slicing through the air toward the unmoving shadow—

And the Choir sang one last time.

A desperate, discordant shriek—a final defense.

His vision split. The figures blurred, twisting, multiplying—which one was real? His hands moved on instinct, but doubt sank its claws into his chest. What if he was wrong? What if—

No. Trust the instinct.

The chain struck true.

The phantom let out a final, ear-piercing shriek, its body twisting in agony. The Cursed Chain tightened, coiling around its spectral neck like a viper. With a sudden, brutal snap, the chain crushed its throat, the phantom's form convulsing violently before finally collapsing into silence, releasing its final whisper as the choir dies, 

"The song… never ends… even in silence, we remain…"

A deafening silence followed, as if the world itself had been waiting to exhale.

Only the echoes of Raven's breath and Duskrunner's panting remained.

The spectral mist began to fade, the cathedral's grandeur peeling away, leaving behind the cold, empty crypt once more.

But the silence wasn't comforting—it was disorienting.

Raven staggered slightly, pressing a hand to his temple. His mind still echoed with traces of the Choir's song, like a phantom melody refusing to leave.

For a moment, he was still there—still caught in the Choir's embrace, still sinking into the endless layers of voices.

A sharp nudge against his arm snapped him back.

Duskrunner. The wolf's silver eyes locked onto him, grounding him in the present.

"You still with me?" Duskrunner's voice was gruff but held an edge of concern.

Raven exhaled slowly, blinking past the fog in his head. He clenched and unclenched his fingers, feeling control return to his limbs. His heart still pounded too fast, but at least it was his again.

"Yeah," he muttered. His voice was hoarse, like he'd been the one singing.

Duskrunner huffed. "Good. Because I was two seconds from biting you if you started humming."

Raven let out a breath that almost—almost—sounded like a chuckle.

Raven flexed his fingers, shaking off the lingering weight of the Choir's influence. "That was irritating."

Duskrunner huffed. "That was loud."

Raven let out a breath, rolling his shoulders. "At least they drop better loot than the last guy."

A faint shimmer of light pulsed where the Nameless Choir had fallen, the remnants of their cursed voices condensed into an ethereal relic. Raven stepped forward, crouching as he inspected the loot.

Item Acquired: Wailing Chime (Epic)

Type: Belt

Effect: Releases a haunting resonance that weakens enemy defenses within a short radius.

Secondary Effect: When activated, it creates a temporary illusion of the user, confusing enemies for three seconds.

Raven picked up the spectral chime, rolling it between his fingers as the ghostly whispers echoed faintly within its core. He could already imagine its utility in combat—lowering enemy defenses and creating a brief decoy for misdirection.

Duskrunner peered at it. "That's an annoying sound."

Raven smirked. "Exactly why it's useful." He tucked it away into his inventory. "Definitely better than the last drop. Let's keep moving."

With the chamber silent, they stepped forward—deeper into the catacombs, toward the final challenge waiting in the abyss.