The storm above Arc Spire had not come with clouds, only thunder.
Blue streaks of raw mana pulsed like arteries through the heavens, flickering in uneven bursts as though the sky itself were glitching. Citizens paused beneath broken roofs and burning archways, eyes drawn upward with silent dread. The Guild mages called it "Mana Instability." The elders whispered of ancient rhythms disturbed.
But in the cloisters of the Silent Choir, it was known as a tremor in the Song—a sign that something lost had begun to resonate once more.
---
Somewhere above the Spire, aboard the floating citadel Vantaeus…
A woman in crimson velvet leaned over a circular glass scryer, her gaze fixed on the glowing outline of Kael Veyr. The glass pulsed faintly every time he moved.
"He's adapting faster than projected," she murmured, her fingers tracing the glass surface. It shimmered as if resonating with her touch. "The Song is not merely a memory. He is rewriting it."
Behind her, a tall figure clad in angular black armor stepped forward. His voice was deep, calculated, like steel dragged across ice.
"You're surprised?" The armored man's words were sharp, clinical. "The Veyr bloodline has always carried this potential, even if it lay dormant for centuries. He has the echoes of the Requiem in him. This was bound to happen."
The woman, Liora, straightened and turned to face him, her expression unreadable.
"There's potential," she said, "and then there's power. Veyr's bloodline was sealed. Every fragment erased. The Requiem was made to be forgotten, but now... it's rising again."
The man—Jaren, Captain of the Iron Guard—shrugged. "Let it rise. The Empire will use it."
She stepped closer to the glass, narrowing her eyes. "Not if the Choir catches him first."
Jaren's eyes flickered to the scryer. The faint, disjointed hum of Kael's mana, his newfound abilities, rippled across the surface.
"Veyr has nothing to fear from the Choir. You're speaking of the same faction that has been stagnant for centuries, weakened by its own doctrine."
Liora's lips curled into a slight smile. "If Kael is what they think he is, the Choir won't be his only enemy."
---
Below, in the depths of the Spire…
Kael stood alone in the ruined choir hall, his breath still heavy from the battle. His fingers trembled as the last remnants of the mage's mana dissipated, floating in small shards of silvery light.
He could still feel the melody. A hum in his chest. Something vast, far older than the spire itself, vibrating in the very fabric of his being. The magic of the Requiem was inside him now—alive and watching.
---
> [WARNING: SYSTEM IMBALANCE DETECTED.]
[Unstable Mana Threading: Progression Accelerating.]
[Multiple Mana Resonances Detected: Identifying Sources…]
---
His hand clenched into a fist. A surge of strange power flooded his body, making his veins burn. The System interface shimmered with new notifications, each more cryptic than the last.
---
> [Skill Merge: SOUNDCOLLAPSE (Rank B) + PULSE OVERDRIVE = SOUND FRACTURE (Rank A)]
[New Path Unlocked: ECHOBORNE INITIATE]
[Warning: Ascension Path Unstable]
[New Skill: HARMONIC FLUX - Control the flow of ambient magic in a 5-meter radius.]
---
Kael's breath caught. The echo of the battle was still vibrating through his limbs. The Song, fractured and wild, continued to whisper in his mind. It was a voice he could barely understand, a language buried too deep for his waking thoughts.
But it was his. And it was pushing him forward.
Before he could gather his bearings, a voice cracked through the room, clear and sharp as glass.
"You're alive."
Kael turned, his pulse still erratic from the surge of magic.
A figure emerged from the shadows at the edge of the room. The woman was tall, with auburn hair that cascaded around her shoulders in waves, and her eyes gleamed with the golden hue of a hunter's focus. Her cloak, dark and adorned with faded sigils, fluttered slightly as she approached.
"I didn't expect to see you here, Silent Choir." Kael's voice was rough, but there was an edge to it now, the confidence that came from knowing he had more than mere survival on his side.
The woman's lips twisted into a faint, almost imperceptible smirk. "I could say the same to you. But here you are, with the Song already singing inside you. How… quaint."
Kael stood tall, though the weight of the power surging within him made his body tremble. "I'm not looking for a fight. I just want to understand what this is."
She stepped closer, her gaze flickering over his form, scanning him. There was a glint of curiosity beneath her stoic demeanor.
"I'm sure you're not. But the power you're wielding isn't yours to wield. Not yet, at least."
"Then tell me, who does it belong to?"
The woman's eyes glinted with something unreadable. "It belongs to the ones who hold the Requiem." She stopped in front of him, her voice lowering. "You are the last heir. The last note of a symphony that should never have been written."
Kael's hand involuntarily tightened around the dagger at his side. "And you think you can just take it back?"
She studied him, her eyes colder than before. "I'm not here to take anything. But you have no idea what you're unleashing, do you?"
A long silence stretched between them. Then, Kael spoke, his voice steady.
"I'm not the one who woke this power. It was already inside me."
The woman's lips parted slightly, a flicker of something akin to recognition—or perhaps dread—crossing her face. "You... don't even know what you've awakened, do you?"
He took a step forward, pressing her with his stare. "I don't know much yet. But I will."
The woman nodded slowly, as if weighing her next words. "Very well. But the path you've chosen will not be one of simple battles. The Choir will come for you, as will others. And you will need every ounce of power you've gained—and more—to survive."
"Then I'll take more."
The woman sighed, turning her gaze toward the shattered core in the center of the room. "That's the problem. You think you're in control. But the Song is already controlling you."
Kael's heart pounded, the words setting something dark and uncertain stirring deep within him. But before he could respond, the woman stepped back.
"I was not sent here to teach you, Veyr. But you will soon learn that the price of the Requiem is never what you expect."
---
Above, in the skies of Arc Spire…
The storm grew in intensity.
A figure cloaked in shadow stood at the edge of a high tower, gazing down at the city below. His eyes glowed with a quiet fire as he watched the magic surge from Kael.
"Veyr's awakening," the figure whispered. "The last note has sounded. Let the symphony begin."