Quinn had learned to live with the sound.
It wasn't ringing in his ears, or the static of machines, it was much deeper. A low vibration, faint as a breath, humming through the bones of the city. It was weird, no one else reacted to it. No one else even had noticed. But to Quinn, it never stopped. Some nights, he swore it was getting louder.
On his way to the station, he looked across the street and saw a group of men. They were in suits, but not just suits, they were wearing coats and hats as well. He thought to himself that it was weird to wear that much clothing in the peak of the summer, but he didn't think too deep into it. He finally arrived at the station, it was crowded, commuters pressed together, the air was heavy with sweat and the sharp tang of iron from the tracks. An announcement droned overhead: "Delay on Line Four, estimatedwait—" The voice cut out, distorted into static for half a second.
Quinn froze. The hum, he could hear it getting louder as it surged beneath.
He pressed a hang against the rail to steady himself. The vibration traveled up his arm, into his teeth. He scanned the crowed—faces buried in phones, half-asleep, dead-eyed. Nobody else had felt it.
But then... someone did.
An older man in a gray suit dropped his briefcase, clutching his head. His lips moved, whispering something Quinn couldn't hear. His knees buckled. People shouted, trying to help, but Quinn already knew—something was wrong.
The hum twisted into a discordant shriek only he seemed to hear.
The man screamed—his voice tearing inhumanly raw. The lights above flickered. Glass cracked in its frames. Then came the sound of something splitting, like a bell struck too hard, its tone fracturing into a thousand sharks.
Quinn staggered back. He didn't want to watch, but he just couldn't look away.
The man's body convulsed on the ground. His skin rippled, bulging unnaturally, as if something beneath was clawing to get out. For a heartbeat, Quinn thought he saw eyes—too many—pushing against the inside of his flesh.
The crowd's screams faded into a hollow ringing, like a bell struck in the wrong key. It lingered, vibrating in Quinn's chest. The man's voice had disappeared, replaced by a sound that he felt alive, sharp and fractured, crawling along his nerves.
And then—silence.
The man lay still, twisted, but no longer moving.
Black-coated enforcers pushed through the crowd, armed and precise, their uniforms marked the insignia of the Republic. They didn't rush to help. They didn't ask questions. They surrounded the collapsed man like he was a bomb.
One of them glanced at Quinn. Their eyes narrowed.
"You heard it. Didn't you?"
Quinn's throat went dry. He didn't answer.
The enforcer didn't press. Instead, they muttered into a comm device:
"Another collapse. Contain it. No witnesses left behind."
Quinn's blood ran cold.
The crowd was herded away, murmuring in confusion. The enforcers dragged the twisted man's body into a black van, as if this was routine. Like it happened often.
Quinn lingered at the edge of the dispersing crowd. His ears still ringing, but worse than that—he realized the bell hasn't faded.
It was louder now.
Inside him.
As if whatever had destroyed that man... was coming for him next.
Quinn needed to know why he could hear the ringing, why it never stopped for him.
"Excuse me..."
Quinn had mustered the confidence to speak.
"Why is this loud ringing sound alwa—"
Before he could finish, the enforcer's eyes locked onto his. He couldn't look away.
And then—just like that—the enforcer was gone. Vanished, as if swallowed by the air itself.
Panic clawed at his chest, but before he could think another thought, his eyelids snapped shut. Darkness swallowed him whole.
Quinn Sinclair jolted awake, gasping for air.
"W-Where am I?"
The room was stark white. He was chained to a chair at a table. Across from him sat two figures—enforcers.
One of them looked familiar. He had seen him before, at the station.
"Hey—wait a second," Quinn stammered, eyes narrowing. "You were the one who asked me if I heard it!"
The woman next to the enforcer met his gaze, unwavering and unnerving.
"Fascinating. I can see it growing inside you."
Quinn looked at her, confused. "The fuck are you talking about, lady?"
Her expression shifted, cold and unreadable.
"Let's get to the point. My name's Rin. His is Rikuya. We work for the Republic. On the surface, we're just law enforcement—like the police. But underneath, we're… different."
She leaned closer, voice dropping. "You asked about the ringing before, didn't you? That sound… it's your soul. Some people can hear it—the hums, the songs. We are… unusual. We can resonate our souls, shape them, control them. It's how we gain… power."
"Yeah right." Quinn muttered.
A sudden chill crawled over him, prickling his skin. He shivered, rubbing his arms, and looked down. Frost had crept across the table, delicate crystals spreading like veins.
Before he could blink, the cold seized the room. Ice snaked up the walls, coating the floor, coating everything in a glittering, suffocating white. The air itself seemed to freeze, each breath a jagged shard in his lungs.
"Okay, okay, I believe you."
Rin continued where she left off, "Now that you understand the situation, you have two choices. Awaken your resonance and join the republic, or die."
She couldn't be serious, could she? Quinn wasn't left with many options. He understood his position, it wasn't like he could fight his way out of the room. This was dropped onto him suddenly. He thought to himself, maybe this could be his purpose. He took some time to think, he came to his conclusion.
"Okay, I'll join. Do I sigh a contract or someth—" Rin stood up, walked around the table. She put one arm over him and leaned up against him.
"This might hurt okay?" She assured him.
Quinn was confused, what exactly is going to hurt?
She placed her hand on his chest. A cold, creeping chill shot through his body, sinking into his bones. He gasped, claws of pain tearing through him as if something inside were unraveling.
His screams filled the air, jagged and raw, but no one could stop it. Muscles seized, vision blurred, every heartbeat a hammer driving him toward oblivion. Seconds stretched into eternity.
Then silence. The scream cut off. He slumped to the floor, lifeless, the chill lingering where her hand had been.