"To exist when you were never meant to… is to offend gods, monsters, and fate alike."
—Unknown, etched in the ruins of Veilpoint Sigma
The Ashen Creed didn't rest long.
They couldn't.
The ruins were compromised, the Reapers' death sending echoes across the Astral Fold. Anyone with eyes to the weave of power knew something had happened here.
And so they moved.
Northward—into the broken lands of the Drowning Fields, where reality sagged under ancient entropy, and rivers of ink flowed uphill into the sky. The area was marked as cursed, avoided by factions and scavengers alike.
Kael chose it on purpose.
"They won't follow us there," he said. "Not yet."
Inside the Fields
Thalia winced as her boots splashed through sludge that hissed with low static. "I'm not sure this is better than fighting Reapers."
Kess, pale but moving again, adjusted her cloak. "You're standing on the bones of a dead god's dream. You should be glad it's not screaming."
Raen grunted. "That's comforting."
They made their way to a collapsed temple—half-buried, half-sunken into a pitch-dark lake that reflected no stars. Glyphs swirled on the surface, runes moving like thoughts instead of words.
Kael stopped.
[System Node Detected – Forbidden Offerings May Be Made Here]
Warning: This zone lies outside standard Ascension Code control. Choices made here may have irreversible narrative weight.
A pulse of dread passed through the group.
"Whatever you're thinking," Mareth said, "I vote no."
Kael knelt at the edge of the black pool, holding out the remains of a Reaper's core—what hadn't evaporated into raw nothingness.
"This isn't for power," he said. "It's for understanding."
He dropped it in.
The lake screamed.
The Offering
Black tendrils burst from the pool, forming a twisting lattice of eyes, mouths, and memories. A shape emerged—towering, humanoid, wrapped in decaying stars.
Not a Herald.
Not quite.
But close.
[You have contacted a Shard of the Choir of Endings.]
Designation: Solace Unbound
Interest Level: "Curious"
Intent: Dialogue before decision.
Kael faced it alone.
"Why are you hunting me?" he asked.
The entity replied without form. Thoughts folded into his head, like pages of an ancient tome pressed into his skull.
"You are aberration. You breach the seal of silence. But you may yet become a song."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "A song?"
"A melody woven into the fabric of the Great End. A voice of finality."
"You want me to join you?" Kael asked, disgust in his tone.
"No. We want you to become… louder."
The being offered a fragment—a gift.
[Choice: Accept Fragment of the Choir (Warning: May alter Ascension Path, Reputation, and Ally Reactions)]
Gain:
— Skill: Whisper of the End (Instills existential fear in void-born)
— Aura Trait: Null-Harmony (Cancels out system interference briefly)
— Perk: Marked by the Choir (All Choir-aligned beings will recognize you)
Loss: Unknown. System unable to predict consequences.
Kael stared at it, then back at his allies watching in silent horror.
He clenched his fist.
[Choice Declined]
The entity's shape smiled without lips.
"So you choose resistance. Good. The song will rise louder this way."
It vanished.
The pool calmed.
Kael staggered back, breath shallow, soul aching.
[Reputation with Choir of Endings: "Known Resistor"]
[New Narrative Flag: Disruption of Harmony Registered]
Meanwhile… In the Spire of Chains
Far across the Ashen Belt, high atop the Obsidian Spire, a figure in crimson bone armor read the ripple across the void.
"The Nullborn lives," the man whispered.
His advisor, a shifting woman of glass and shadow, replied, "And he's drawn the Choir's gaze. This changes everything."
The man turned toward a cracked mural of a chained sun.
"Send the Ascendants. If Kael is to disrupt our plans, I want his echoes singing in agony first."
Back in the Fields
As the group moved deeper into the temple, Kael paused again.
Another prompt.
[Ascension Code Request: Select Your Opposition]
You have defied erasure. The world must now react. Choose which faction will act against you first in full force.
— The Obsidian Covenant (Mastery of Ritual, high-tier spell users, ancient blood mages)
— The Throne Unbound (Dethroned celestials and will-forged tyrants)
— The Choir of Endings (Chaotic entropy cult, unstable logic, anti-reality beings)
The group circled him, watching the words only he could see.
"I have to choose," he said aloud. "One of them will come for us. Now."
Raen scoffed. "I vote Obsidian. Better to die to blood and blades than whispering nonsense."
Yren shrugged. "I say the Throne. At least we'll know which way is up."
Thalia was quiet.
"You already made your choice," she said softly. "You refused the Choir."
Kael exhaled.
She was right.
[Confirmed: Choir of Endings will act as the first hostile force.]
Expect Reality Disruptions.
Expect Narrative Entropy Events.
Expect Collapse of Linear Conflict.
Reward: Unknown
Final Scene: The First Collapse
That night, reality cracked again.
Only this time, it wasn't the sky.
It was Kael's memory.
He jolted awake—alone, in a world he didn't remember entering. None of his allies nearby. His name echoing through a field of glass.
"Kael…"
A thousand voices spoke his name.
A thousand versions of him stared back.
Each one broken. Each one dead.
The Choir had arrived.
Not to kill him.
But to undo him.