Echoes of the Choir

The cathedral of the Mirror Halls was colder than death.

Light didn't exist here in a normal way—it flickered, stuttered, bent at odd angles. The spires overhead reached into a void sky, their mirrored surfaces reflecting not just the present, but moments of a thousand alternate timelines. Whispers echoed through the chamber, not from voices—but from memories.

Kael stepped forward first, boots echoing softly on the glass floor. His reflection trailed him like a ghost, always just a step behind.

At the center of the cathedral stood a monolith—tall, obsidian, pulsing faintly. Etched onto its surface were symbols older than language, older than this world. The markings hummed with the same strange rhythm Kael had felt in his bones since the day he awakened his gravity core.

 "This is it," Darius murmured. "The Choir's sigil. Their original one."

 "It's… reacting," Aeris said, her voice tight with awe.

Sera frowned. "To what?"

 "To Kael," she answered. "It's resonating with him."

Kael reached out, lightning crawling lazily across his arm, gravity distorting the air around his fingers.

As he touched the monolith, his mind shattered.

Visions of the Choir

Kael was no longer standing in the cathedral.

He was falling.

Through memories not his own. Through lives he had never lived. Through pain so old it ached in his soul.

He saw the Choir—not as a cult, but as a pantheon. They were once protectors. Guardians of balance. Wielders of Void and Song. But something corrupted them. Something deeper than ambition or greed.

A darkness.

Not external—but within.

A spark inside each Choir member had turned. And that spark had a name:

> The Conductor.

A Voice from the Past

Kael jolted back into his body, gasping, his knees hitting the floor. Blood dripped from his nose, but his mind was clearer than ever.

> "It's not just a group," he choked out. "The Choir… They're being led. Controlled."

 "By who?" Darius asked, brow furrowed.

 "Not who." Kael's eyes flickered with unstable energy. "What. The Conductor."

Suddenly, the mirrors surrounding them shattered—not from impact, but from presence.

A figure stood in the entryway of the cathedral.

Young. Lean. Silver hair falling over one eye.

His smile was soft.

His eyes were familiar.

> "Kael," the figure said, stepping forward. "It's been a while."

Sera's blade was out in a heartbeat. "Who the hell—?"

> "His name is Ryne," Kael said quietly. "He was my friend. Before everything."

"Was," Ryne echoed with a chuckle. "Ouch. Harsh."

A shadow curled behind him like ink in water.

 "You're working with the Choir?" Aeris asked, eyes wide.

 "No," Ryne replied, calm as a lake. "I am the Choir now."