Chapter 18 – Resonant Revolution

“They’re coming.”

Cyr stood on the rooftop of a rebel tower, eyes fixed on the smoky skyline of the capital.

A red banner unfurled from the Grand Forum below.

The imperial crest—ripped and stitched with a wolf’s fang across it.

Beside him, Eileen adjusted the amplifier band across her throat.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” he asked.

Her voice was raw but steady. “We don’t get a second chance.”

She pressed a palm against the crystal transmitter—one of the last Starshade artifacts, now reactivated with her blood.

“Once it begins,” he murmured, “they’ll either rise… or we’ll both fall.”

She turned to him, eyes fierce.

“Then let them hear me.”

—

Rebel teams seized the broadcasting towers at dawn.

By midday, the city’s air rang with a strange vibration—felt in bones, not ears.

And then, she sang.

Not a ballad.

Not a melody.

But a *command.*

It rippled across the rooftops, slipping into barracks, down corridors, through helmets and steel.