THE CHOIR REBORN
"When the world forgets how to pray, it starts learning how to scream."
The wasteland wasn't silent anymore.
Where Sanctum 4 had burned, new sounds had begun to rise—hammer strikes, shouted orders, the rasp of old metal being reforged into something that resembled defiance.
The survivors who gathered under Less Vogue's banner were not soldiers. They were fragments of the world that Helix had discarded—mutants, deserters, and machine-touched wanderers who had no home except the one they built in the ruins.
And for the first time in years, the ruins felt alive.
At the heart of their camp stood a gutted cargo freighter, its hull split open like a broken heart. Inside, it had become a command hub—screens made from scavenged drone panels, generators humming in rhythm with the pulse beneath Less's skin.
Shelly hunched over one of the screens, the blue light washing over her face. "You're not going to like this," she said.
Less crossed the room, scarf trailing in her wake. "Bad news usually sounds like that."
Shelly enlarged the map. It flickered with golden veins stretching across the continent—Vira's network, expanding faster than before.
"She's not just rebuilding," Shelly said. "She's recruiting."
Less frowned. "More Seraphs?"
"Worse," Shelly said quietly. "People. Ordinary people. Every settlement that comes into contact with her signal starts worshipping her like a god."
Khale leaned against the wall, flipping his blade idly. "Guess divinity's contagious."
Less ignored him. "How many cities?"
"Eight confirmed," Shelly said. "Three more in conversion. She's calling them sanctuaries. Says she's offering peace."
"Peace," Less muttered. "That's what she calls slavery now."
Shelly glanced up. "We can't fight her everywhere. We need to strike the head, not the limbs."
Less looked at the map again, eyes narrowing on the central node—a massive pulse cluster near the ruins of the old equatorial ring.
"That's her nexus," she said. "That's where we start."
By nightfall, the Choir Reborn was on the move.
Convoys of salvaged transports rolled across the desert, headlights cutting through the ash. Above them, drones followed like mechanical ghosts—patched together from Helix wreckage, their eyes burning blue.
Draxen led the forward squad, his massive frame silhouetted against the crimson horizon. "You're sure about this, Vogue?" he called through the comms. "Last time you tried to kill a god, you nearly killed the rest of us."
Less adjusted her scope, watching the dunes ripple with heat. "Then I'll do it better this time."
Khale smirked over the channel. "I'm starting to miss when you were humble."
"I was never humble," Less said. "I was quiet."
"Big difference."
"Not anymore."
They reached the Ash Plains at dawn. The ground shimmered under the rising sun, still glassed from Helix's earlier wars. At the horizon stood the nexus—a structure that looked less like a building and more like something that had grown from the planet itself.
It pulsed rhythmically, golden light streaming upward like a beacon.
Shelly's scanners whirred. "Signal strength is off the charts. Whatever this thing is, it's feeding the entire network."
Less stared through her scope. The base was surrounded by towers shaped like tuning forks, vibrating softly. She could feel the hum through the soles of her boots.
"She's converting the air," she murmured. "Turning sound into code."
Khale unsheathed his twin blades. "Then we cut the music."
They struck at dusk.
The Choir Reborn moved like a storm—half organized, half wild. Mutants charged first, their raw strength breaking through the outer walls. Behind them came the scavenger marksmen, firing plasma bursts that scorched the air.
Less advanced through the chaos, her rifle singing its deadly rhythm. Every shot found its target—one Seraph, then another, then another. Her focus was surgical, her mind a burning line of calm.
Shelly coordinated from the ridge, shouting orders through the comms. "Team Three, push left! Reactor lines are exposed!"
Draxen's voice thundered back, "They've got flyers! Keep your damn head down!"
Explosions tore the sky apart. The towers began to crack, their resonance faltering.
Then the ground beneath them pulsed.
A deep, seismic heartbeat rolled through the battlefield. The light from the nexus brightened, gold bleeding into white.
Khale cursed. "She's waking up."
The ground split open.
From the fissures rose the Arch Seraphs—taller, more grotesque versions of their predecessors. Their faces were featureless, their bodies made of pure light, wings spanning wider than the fallen towers.
One of them spoke, its voice shaking the air.
"You defy divinity."
Less raised her rifle. "I shoot it, too."
The Arch Seraph's blade came down, slicing through the sand like molten glass. Less rolled aside, the heat licking across her armor. Khale leapt forward, blades flashing, deflecting the strike with a snarl.
"Move!" he shouted.
Less fired at the creature's chest, the bullet sparking harmlessly off the energy field.
Shelly's voice crackled in her ear. "You can't kill those things—they're part of the network! Cut the frequency node instead!"
Less scanned the battlefield. The nexus pulse tower loomed in the center, its rhythm synced to the Seraphs' movements.
"That's our heart," she said. "Cover me."
Khale barked, "Always do."
She sprinted through the carnage, weaving between blasts of golden fire. The hum grew deafening. Her pulse matched it beat for beat.
When she reached the nexus, she saw it—an open chamber of swirling light, alive and screaming.
Inside it floated an image of Vira—translucent, serene, haloed in energy.
"Still chasing ghosts, sister?"
Less raised her rifle. "Not chasing. Ending."
"You burned one sanctuary. I built ten more. Every death you cause makes me stronger."
Less's voice was cold. "Then you should be invincible by now."
She fired into the core.
The world exploded in light.
Shelly's monitors went blind. Static. Then a shockwave ripped through the ridge, knocking her off her feet.
"Less!" she screamed into the comms. "Do you read me?"
Nothing.
The nexus imploded, collapsing in on itself. Seraphs screamed as their wings disintegrated, their light fading into ash. The Choir Reborn retreated, dragging the wounded into the transports as the dust swallowed everything.
For hours, the sky burned.
When it finally cleared, there was no sign of the nexus—only a crater filled with molten glass.
At the edge of the crater, Khale stumbled through the wreckage. His armor was half melted, his face streaked with blood.
"Less!" he shouted.
He found her half-buried under debris, unconscious but breathing. The glow beneath her skin was erratic, flickering like a dying signal.
Shelly ran to his side, scanning her vitals. "She overloaded again. The pulse nearly tore her apart."
Khale brushed the ash from her face. "She'll live."
Shelly didn't answer. She was staring at her scanner, horror spreading across her face.
"What?" Khale asked.
"The pulse… it's changing. Her heartbeat—it's syncing with Vira's again."
Khale looked down at Less. For a moment, the light under her skin brightened—and when she exhaled, he swore he heard another voice layered beneath hers.
"We are not done."
Less woke two days later, wrapped in bandages, her body a map of pain. The camp was quiet. Only the wind moved—low, humming faintly with a rhythm that wasn't quite human.
Shelly sat beside her, eyes red from lack of sleep.
"What happened?" Less asked.
"You destroyed the nexus," Shelly said softly. "But she's still out there. You didn't kill her—you connected to her."
Less's heart sank. "You mean…"
Shelly nodded. "She's inside the pulse again. And this time, you brought her with you."
Less closed her eyes, breathing through the ache. Somewhere deep inside her chest, the hum of the world answered—a second heartbeat, faint but undeniable.
Vira's voice whispered through the static of her mind.
"Together, we'll finish the song."
Less whispered back, barely audible. "Over my dead body."
"That can be arranged."
Outside, the Choir Reborn stood at the edge of the crater, watching the sun rise over a broken horizon. The war wasn't over—it had only gone quieter.
The Pulsewalker had returned.
And now, the god she fought lived in her blood.