Chapter 3: Echoes of the Chorus
Night settled over the city like a sigh.
The rain had stopped, but the streets still glistened, reflecting shards of neon light that rippled with each passing car.
From her small shop window, Rimuru watched the quiet street below, sipping what was left of her soda. Aira was asleep in the spare room upstairs — exhausted after the Veil incident. For now, she was safe.
But Rimuru's eyes weren't calm. They glowed faintly red in the reflection of the glass.
"Too early," she murmured. "Someone's moving faster than I expected."
She set her drink aside and reached under the counter, pulling out a small, silver cube no bigger than a fist. With a flick of her fingers, it unfolded like a blooming flower — projecting a faint, translucent map of the city in blue light.
Tiny red points blinked across it, pulsing slowly. Each one a Veil disturbance.
And in the center… one was growing.
"Figures."
The lights in the shop flickered. The air grew colder. And then, a voice echoed through the room — smooth, melodic, and unsettlingly calm.
> "You've been hiding too long, Rimuru Tempest."
She didn't turn around.
"You know, people usually start with 'hello.' It's polite."
> "Politeness is a human luxury. You gave that up ages ago."
The shadows at the corner of the room thickened, twisting upward into a human silhouette — a man draped in long, dark robes that rippled like smoke. His eyes were covered by a silver band, and his voice carried an eerie harmony, as though several voices spoke through him at once.
> "We are The Chorus," he said. "And you, Creator, left unfinished work."
Rimuru finally turned, her tone deceptively light. "Ah, so you're the fan club. I was wondering when you'd send a messenger."
> "You fractured the Veil to hide your guilt. You called it balance. But every song must find its final note."
She tilted her head, smile sharp. "Cute metaphor. Too bad I'm tone-deaf."
For a moment, the air pulsed with quiet power — the kind that made the soul flinch.
The Chorus agent's form began to flicker, his voice softening into a hiss.
> "You cannot protect her. She is the key — and keys must open what's locked."
Before Rimuru could respond, his body broke apart into streaks of black mist, vanishing as though swallowed by the air itself. The room fell silent again.
She stood there for a long moment, eyes glowing faintly.
Then she whispered to herself, "Guess the orchestra's warming up."
---
Upstairs, Aira stirred in her sleep — a faint light flickering around her hand, pulsing in rhythm with her heartbeat. She dreamt of a melody she couldn't remember…
and voices whispering her name from the dark.