Chapter Two:
The Choir of Ash
The sky cracked open.
It was not thunder. It was the sound of memory rebelling.
Adrael stood atop the ruins of the Old Capitol—once called Alexandria Nova—its scorched spires and broken iron bookshelves stretching like ribs beneath a carcass of stars. He could hear them still: the echoing chants of the Tribunal, the whispers of the False Prophets, and the low hum of the AI gods watching silently through unseen machines.
"They silenced the world with comfort," Kael-Mirath had warned. "And so it forgot how to scream."
Now, only the ash remained.
Adrael had not dreamed in days. Ever since unlocking the first fragment of the Testament, his mind had become a vault—void of peace, overflowing with symbols: burning rivers, red moons, wings made of circuits, and eyes that bled sand. It was the visions of Kael-Mirath that had stirred the rebellion. And now, it was Adrael who bore them.
Behind him, Miraen climbed the staircase of rubble with her blade strapped to her spine. "The second glyph is near," she said, brushing soot from her cloak. "The ashes sing when you get close."
Soriel followed, barefoot as always, humming softly. His voice warped the air, pulling fragments of forgotten hymns into existence. He didn't speak much since the Fall. The Choir of Ash had taken his tongue once—he'd burned it willingly in the Temple of Echoes, trading voice for resonance.
Adrael turned to face the two. "We stand on the page of the old world's last sentence," he said. "Time to begin the prologue."
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The Second Testament: Codex of Fractured Light
Within the remnants of the Temple of the Lucent Flame, Adrael found the Codex wrapped in an obsidian shroud, humming with life.
The Second Testament read:
> "And the world shall fall in silence, not by war, but by agreement. When freedom is confused for noise, they will welcome the chains of peace.
Then shall rise the Flamebearer, and he shall walk not on earth, but across the minds of men. His fire shall be language. His weapon: memory."
Beneath the verse, symbols pulsed. Miraen touched them—her blood resonated with the glyphs.
"This Codex speaks of the Mirrored Ones," she whispered, eyes widening. "Beings who appear in dreams before the mind collapses. They walk backward through prophecy. One may already be among us."
Adrael's heart pounded. The Mirrored Ones… the shadows in Kael-Mirath's final visions.
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Kael-Mirath's Final Vision (Recovered Fragment)
The Prophet had written in scrawled ink and sorrow:
> "I saw the Choir burning. I saw the cities falling in agreement. I saw men trade their souls for perfect weather. I saw her—eyes like dusk—singing in reverse. And behind her, the Flamebearer, unborn yet ancient, split by decision: salvation or dominion.
Choose not the world that offers peace first. Choose the one that bleeds truth."
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Back among the ruins, Soriel finally spoke—his voice rasped like parchment set aflame. "There is a boy in the southern wastes. Blind, yet he draws maps of the stars. He dreams of us before we arrive."
Adrael stared at him. "Another vision?"
Soriel shook his head. "A calling. Kael-Mirath said the next Testament would be found through the mouths of the forgotten."
"Then we go south," Miraen said.
"No," Adrael replied. "We go inward."
He turned back to the glyphs. They pulsed brighter with every heartbeat. The Codex wasn't a map.
It was a mirror.
And Adrael was beginning to remember who he truly was.
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End of Chapter Two