Sharma_Rijul

Codex Requiem follows Aeren, a boy born without a Fatesong in a world where destiny is sung into reality. Branded a defect, he discovers the forbidden Entropy Codex, a living relic that devours harmony and composes power from silence. As he climbs from exile to godhood, Aeren challenges the divine order upheld by the Choral Blades and their perfect songs. But when a legendary enforcer—the Echo Knight—rises to erase him, Aeren must choose: preserve the broken world’s balance, or compose a new symphony from its ashes.

Codex Requiem

Not because of the pain, or the Codex's whispers—though both kept him tethered to waking—but because every time he closed his eyes, he heard the Echo Knight's voice.

> "This body is just the first verse."

He couldn't shake it. The fight had been real—every strike, every echo, every reversal—but the truth hit harder than any blade: that hadn't even been the true Echo Knight. Just a reflection.

Lyssa sat cross-legged near the remains of the forest camp, scribbling into a rune-scored journal. Around them, the trees were scorched, some still humming faintly with disrupted resonance.

"You need more than broken songs," she said, not looking up. "The Codex gives you access, sure—but it doesn't give you structure. That's why your verses keep shattering when pushed."

"Thanks," Aeren muttered, still nursing his ribs. "That really helps."

"Then read. It's time we start building your first real Movement."

Lyssa stood, brushing soot from her coat. "A Movement. A complete Song—verse, rhythm, and intent. Not scraps of stolen melodies."

She pointed to the Codex symbol pulsing faintly on his arm.

"That thing's evolving faster than your body can handle. You need a core composition. One that's yours."

Aeren stared at the journal's first page: diagrams of ancient songforms, lost rhythms, and a concept she'd written in bold:

Something stirred inside the Codex. Recognition. Hunger.

Far away, in a ruined cathedral where Fatesingers once trained, Veylor watched shards of silver light swirl within a glass coffin. The real Echo Knight sat cross-legged in meditation, humming a silent song that reshaped the stones around him.

"He's adapting faster than expected," Veylor said to the shadow behind him.

The shadow answered with a hollow voice. "Because he's not resisting the Codex… he's syncing with it."

Veylor's gaze sharpened. "We cannot allow a god to rise outside the Choir's will."

"Then perhaps," the voice hissed, "it's time we call upon the Voidweaver Cantors."

Back in the Ashwood, Aeren traced Lyssa's diagrams with shaking fingers. One verse. One rhythm. His own melody.

He took a deep breath… and began to compose.

> Codex Core Composition Initiated.

Working Title: "Requiem of the Broken Star."

The trees trembled. The ash turned to sparks.

And deep beneath the world, something ancient stirred—something that remembered that name

Chapter 8: The First Movement