Chapter Fourteen: Echoes of the Choir
No one spoke when the sun rose.
They stood in the mouth of the chamber, watching the spiral. The black-glass feathers hovered in place, unmoving. The monolith pulsed faintly—like a heart half-asleep.
Selene stepped forward first.
"This won't wait."
Kieran nodded. Talon, still pale, stood leaning on Calla. Rei walked silently beside Nova, blades strapped tight. Sera was already ahead, her shadow gliding like water beneath her feet.
They crossed the threshold.
---
The first sound was a breath.
But not theirs.
It came from the spiral. Soft. Familiar.
Then it came again—different. Another breath. Another voice.
Kieran stopped.
They weren't hearing things.
They were hearing themselves.
Their own breathing. Their own footsteps. Played back at them. Warped. Off by a second.
Nova looked around sharply. "It's mimicking us."
"It's listening," Selene said
---
The chamber changed as they stepped deeper. The spiral widened—space stretching, architecture bending. Symbols on the floor flickered.
Names.
Kieran saw his.
Burned into stone. Beneath it, another name. Not his.
The boy from the feather.
"You are the wound," the Choir whispered. Not aloud. Not from a voice. From the walls. The floor. From inside.
Calla gripped her head. "Do you hear that?"
"I do now," Rei said tightly.
"I don't think it's talking to all of us at once," Talon said. "It's… picking."
---
Suddenly, the room shifted.
The spiral dimmed.
And the world fractured.
---
Calla
She stood in a burned-out village. One she knew.
Home.
Her mother's house stood just ahead. The roof was still smoldering. A child's laughter echoed inside.
Calla ran.
But the door didn't open.
The flame in her hand sputtered.
She looked down.
There was no fire.
Only smoke.
"Why couldn't you save us?" the house asked, in her voice.
---
Rei
A battlefield.
Bodies all around.
None of them moved—but all of them stared at him with open eyes.
He couldn't lift his blade. It was embedded in someone's chest.
He tried to pull it free.
The body whispered, "You're not the strongest."
Then hundreds of voices joined in.
"You're not enough."
"You're not enough."
---
Talon
A library without end.
Books filled with his own handwriting—but none he remembered writing.
He opened one.
Blank pages turned themselves.
Then, suddenly, words:
"Who are you?"
He turned.
There were mirrors instead of shelves now.
And in each mirror, he was someone different.
None of them looked back.
---
Nova
Alone.
No weapons. No knives.
She walked down a hallway of broken glass, and each reflection she passed whispered things she had never said—but remembered thinking.
One stopped her.
It looked exactly like her.
But when she blinked, the other one didn't.
"You survived the Trial," it said. "But who says it's over?"
---
Sera
She stood in absolute silence.
Even her breath didn't make sound.
Even her thoughts felt muffled.
There were no colors here. Just gray, like memory left out in the sun too long.
Something approached her from behind.
She didn't turn.
She didn't need to.
She already knew it was her.
But older. Darker. Eyes missing.
Mouth closed.
Hands empty.
---
Kieran
The spiral surrounded him.
He hadn't moved.
But the others were gone.
He stood before the monolith again.
But now it was cracked—and something moved inside.
The shadow beside him trembled.
He turned.
It wasn't his shadow.
It was him—but before the Trial.
Before the feather.
Before the name.
His eyes were empty. His mouth hung open.
And he whispered, "You're not supposed to be here."
---
Then the voices came again.
"You are not the first."
"You will not be the last."
"You are not ready."
"But we remember you."
---
All at once, the illusions shattered.
The group stood back in the spiral chamber—shaking. Sweating. Breathing hard.
But something had changed.
The spiral wasn't still anymore.
The feathers began to rise.
And the choir began to hum again.