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

High above the mortal lands, where the sky thinned into starlight, the Sanctum of the First Choir shimmered with divine resonance.

Each of the Twelve Thrones sat empty—except one.

Veylor, cloaked in woven starlight, knelt before the empty choir pit where the First Harmony once echoed. The silence now was intentional… and dangerous.

A figure shimmered into view behind him—a tall woman in robes that flickered like candle flames, her eyes veiled.

"The Voidweavers failed," she said. "I felt the rupture from three planes away."

Veylor didn't turn. "The Codex Bearer is accelerating. Too fast."

"He's improvising. That's what the Codex wants," she said quietly. "And you sent shadows to cage a storm."

Aeren sat alone on a cliff edge, watching fractured moons drift lazily through the sky. Lyssa was asleep nearby, her breathing soft beneath the layers of warding spells. The Codex hummed gently in his palm—warm, for once.

He held the new Verse it had given him: the Lament of the Forgotten Choir.

A fragment of a song that once called the gods down from the stars. Now… it whispered only sorrow.

The air around him blurred with colorless threads, like echoes of voices that no longer had bodies. Aeren saw visions—cities of light, destroyed by too-perfect harmony. Gods, once creators, driven mad by the pressure to preserve balance.

> "This world was broken before I was ever born," Aeren murmured.

"They just hid the cracks beneath pretty songs."

The Codex pulsed in agreement. For the first time, it felt like companionship.

Far across the land, beneath the Cathedral of Aetherglass, the Echo Knight stood before a vault sealed in seven verses. His mirrored blade tapped each one, undoing them in reverse.

Inside the vault was no weapon. No relic.

It was a dream—frozen in crystal. The last dream of the First God.

A child sang. Alone. The world around him burned, and still, he sang. Not to save it—but to remember it.

The Knight pressed a hand to the glass.

"…So that is what the Codex seeks. Not destruction. Not chaos."

He turned, the glass cracking behind him.

"It seeks to remember what the gods were too afraid to dream."

Chapter 10: Gods Don’t Dream