Chapter 8: The Silent Choir

Einstein Voss's boots echoed in the Aetheric Concord's safehouse, each step a hammer in his skull. The air was thick with the hum of aetheric plasma, the steel walls pulsing with faint light, but the glow felt wrong, like it was watching. His palm's cut burned, aetheric plasma flickering under his skin, a constant reminder of the Echoes—13, 45, 72, 88—that had nearly torn him apart. The library's aftermath clung to him, those blank-eyed people, their memories stolen, and that fleeting vision of a woman, a Concord member he couldn't name. Who's missing? he thought, slumping into a chair, his toolbag thudding to the floor. And why can't I remember?Zara Kade stood by the holographic map table, her Containment Prism clipped to her belt, its glow dim after sealing Echo-88. Her leather jacket was torn, her short black hair matted with dust, and her eyes were haunted, scanning the map's red blips across Earth-Alpha. "We're running out of time," she said, voice rough, like she'd screamed too long. "Echo Prime's moving faster."Talen Vey hunched over his tablet, its fractal patterns twisting like a fever dream. His cracked glasses slipped, his wild hair a mess, but his fingers danced, chasing data. "The Noetic Shroud's still bleeding," he muttered, voice sharp. "Echo-88's memetic residue—it's spreading, subtle, like a whisper."Kaelith drifted near the ceiling, her form a flicker of mist and void, her eyes swallowing light. "The Void Dreamer weeps," she whispered, her voice a cold thread in Einstein's mind. "The choir sings, but none hear."Einstein's cut flared, and Izarael's voice cut through, sharp and elusive: The silence hides. Listen, or all forgets. He gripped the chair, the plasma sparking, and shook his head. "Enough riddles," he said, his voice hoarse. "What's the next move? Another Echo? Another fight?"Zara's gaze flicked to him, tired but resolute. "We don't get to rest, Voss. New anomaly, downtown—the old theater district. It's… different."Talen's tablet beeped, a red blip pulsing on the map. "Echo-101," he said, standing, his eyes wild. "Not NEP, not exactly. Memetic, perception-based. It's… singing, but we can't hear it. People are vanishing, but no one notices.""Vanishing?" Einstein asked, his stomach twisting. Like the library, but worse. The memory of that missing woman flickered again—a laugh, a name starting with M, gone. What's it hiding?Kaelith's form shimmered, her voice a warning: "The song binds. The Nullpoint listens."Zara grabbed a crate, pulling out mnestic patches—small, glowing discs to counter memetic effects. "Stick this on," she said, tossing one to Einstein. "Echo-101 messes with what you see, what you know. We go in blind without these."Einstein slapped the patch on his neck, the cold jolt sharpening his senses, but it didn't ease the dread. His last mnestic dose still burned, leaving him jittery, his mind too clear, every scar from Echo-45 and Echo-72 etched in his bones. This is gonna break me, he thought, grabbing his toolbag. "Theater district's crowded," he said. "If people are vanishing, why's no one panicking?""That's the mystery," Zara said, checking her prism. "Talen, path. Kaelith, scout."Talen nodded, his tablet humming, while Kaelith dissolved into mist, her void-eyes lingering. "The spark seeks," she whispered, then vanished. Einstein's palm glowed, the plasma restless, and he followed Zara to the van, Talen muttering about Archetypal Crucible leaks.The drive was grim, Earth-Alpha's streets a haze of gray fog and flickering lights. The theater district was a ghost town, its marquees dark, the air thick with void-essence, a black ooze seeping from cracked pavement. Cops milled around, their faces blank, like they'd forgotten their orders. Zara flashed her badge, and they slipped into the old Grand Lyric Theater, its faded opulence a mask for something wrong. Einstein's cut pulsed, the plasma guiding them inside, and the mystery deepened.The theater was a cavern of shadows, velvet curtains torn, seats covered in dust. The stage was bare, but the air hummed with aetheric plasma, not a glow but a sound—a silent song, felt in the bones, not the ears. At the center hung Echo-101, a shimmering haze, not NEP but something else—a memetic entity, its form a knot of light and absence that warped perception. Figures stood in the aisles, maybe a dozen, their eyes glowing faintly, their mouths moving in silence, like a choir no one could hear. Threads of aetheric plasma wove into them, stealing something—thoughts, selves.Its voice wasn't sound but a pressure: Sing with us, or be silent. Einstein's mind flickered—a memory, not his: a woman in Concord gear, her face blurred, saying, "Don't let it take you." Who is she? he thought, his heart racing, the name slipping away.Zara raised her prism, light forming a cage, but Echo-101 rippled, the cage twisting into static. "It's perception weaving!" she shouted, dodging a thread of aetheric ichor that burned the stage. "It's changing what we see!"Talen's tablet sparked, his voice frantic. "It's hax magic—perception weaving, rewriting our senses! The choir's a trap, binding minds to Echo Prime!"Kaelith materialized, her mist coiling around Echo-101. "Dreams sing," she hissed, her form fraying as she pulled the haze inward. Einstein's plasma surged, and he wove, threads snapping into a barrier, but the cost was brutal—his vision blurred, his chest burned, and blood dripped from his nose. I'm not enough, he thought, holding the weave, the haze pulsing like a heartbeat.The theater shook, aetheric wraiths emerging from the walls, their forms flickering like shattered glass, their silent screams a wail: The choir binds. Einstein's cut flared, and he saw flashes—himself singing, Zara vanishing, Talen laughing in a void. It's in my head, he realized, Echo-101's perception weaving twisting his reality."Voss, conjuring!" Zara yelled, firing her prism. "Pull the void!"Einstein reached for the void-essence, the cold rush stealing his breath, his past—a birthday, a fight, gone. I'm fading, he thought, but he pulled, the haze shrinking. Kaelith's mist tightened, Talen shouting coordinates, and Zara's prism flared, sealing Echo-101 in a cage. The choir collapsed, the figures falling, their eyes empty but alive.But the stage shimmered, a rift pulsing—a glimpse of Earth-Noir, shadows moving, a figure watching, her face blurred. Izarael's voice echoed: The silent sing. Find the lost, or all falls. Einstein's cut glowed, the mystery growing. Who's out there? The Eidolon Cascade hummed, and he was its spark, trapped in a song that hid the truth