The silence after the Ark opened felt like the breath before judgment.
Saral stood frozen, her hand resting on the ancient box. Light spilled from it in slow, deliberate waves, wrapping her in scripture that spun like rings of fire. Yet it didn't burn. It whispered.
Abraham stepped closer. His flame didn't react violently this time. It bowed. Folded itself in reverence, as if recognizing an older flame. A deeper voice.
Then it began to speak.
Not aloud.
Not in words.
It was like the feeling of being remembered.
Like being forgiven before you sinned.
A thousand voices echoed through their minds. Some were human. Some were not. Some were like wind and thunder.
And yet, two words stood out.
Return me.
Saral's knees buckled.
She gripped the Ark tighter.
Return you where? she whispered aloud.
The light formed into an image.
A tree.
Roots cut off. A trunk snapped. Branches bleeding stars.
Abraham's voice was hollow.
The Tree of Zion.
The image changed again.
Seven flames.
Six broken.
One flickering.
He looked at Saral.
They're not talking about beasts. They're talking about us. The Seals are people.
The Ark pulsed again.
Each seal is a soul.
Each flame is a name.
Each gate must remember.
The light dimmed. The Ark closed.
Saral stumbled back. Ezra caught her.
What happened?
She looked at him.
The Ark wants to return to its origin. Not a place. A person.
Who?
Saral looked at Abraham.
Him.
Abraham's breath caught.
He looked down at his hands. The fire wasn't flaring. It wasn't resisting. It was waiting.
Inside the Church's high tower, Reuel watched the energy readings collapse.
The Ark opened, he said.
The First Flame has chosen.
And we are no longer in control.
Archbishop Lior stood still, staring at the sealed room where hundreds of saints were praying.
Seal the tower, he said.
Reuel turned.
What?
Lior's voice sharpened.
If the Ark has chosen a new will, the old one must be erased. Zion belongs to the Word. Not to the flame. Not to the Gate.
Reuel didn't move.
You're planning to purge the Arkborn, he said.
Lior met his eyes.
I'm planning to finish what Seraph-13 refused to.
Outside, a second tremor rocked the city.
Another signal rose into the sky.
A red beam.
A fourth seal breaking.
Saral looked toward the heavens, then at Abraham.
The Ark says the tree has fallen.
He looked back.
Then maybe it's time we plant a new one.
Far beneath the city, something opened its eyes.
It was not human.
It was not beast.
It was a memory of a god.
End of Chapter 18