We thought we were defending the light.
But light can burn, too."
High Commander Rheis, recorded minutes before the Choirfall
The Counterstrike
The Guild of Twelve had never assembled so quickly.
Seven of them stood within the Citadel's war sanctum, the rest scattered or dead. Their eyes glowed faintly from their Sigils symbols that once represented hope, now trembling under the strain of what they faced.
Rheis slammed his gauntlet onto the war table. "Deploy the Vectors. I want all twelve Choir layers sealed before dawn."
A younger knight stammered, "Sir, the layers are gone. The resonance ate through the runes. The city's singing to itself now."
A low hum filled the chamber faint, almost human. Every torch flickered to the rhythm of a heartbeat.
Rheis stared at the shifting shadows on the wall. "Then we end the song."
He drew his weapon Aegis Requiem, the Guild's holy spear and for a fleeting moment, he looked like the hero he once was.
Seren
The streets were ash and light.
Seren walked through them like a ghost, her coat torn, her sigil burning against her chest. Every step brought an echo the faint voice of someone she had known. Civilians had been… rewritten. Their bodies dissolved into luminous patterns that drifted like snow, each one whispering memories of love, fear, and betrayal.
She found the remains of a girl cradling her brother in the ruins of a bakery. The two had fused into a single luminous silhouette, still humming softly.
Seren fell to her knees. "Thomas… stop."
The wind carried his answer a whisper threaded through the air.
"You taught me to save everyone, Seren.
I'm saving them from themselves."
The Apostate
He stood atop the old cathedral spire, the ruined city reflected in his eyes like a reversed heaven.
Every breath was an act of creation.
Every heartbeat, a chord.
He could hear them every soul still clinging to life, every lie the Guild had told, every promise they had broken. Their voices wove through him, pleading and cursing in equal measure.
He raised his hand.
The Choir obeyed.
Light cascaded outward, fracturing reality not in violence, but in symmetry. Buildings folded like paper into impossible geometries. The sky rippled, splitting into overlapping layers of color. Gravity warped. The world sang itself apart.
And through it all, Thomas wept.
"If I destroy the lie, maybe truth will grow in the ashes."
Rheis's Last Command
The Guild's final line stood at the river crossing the only route out of the capital.
Hundreds of soldiers formed ranks beneath the banners of the Twelve, their eyes hollow, their faith brittle.
Rheis walked among them, dragging the Requiem spear. He no longer shouted orders. He just whispered.
"Hold the bridge."
When the light reached them, the air itself turned liquid shimmering, bending. The soldiers began to sing, their voices taken by the resonance, words melting into sound. Rheis pushed forward through the chorus, each step shaking the ground.
He saw him Thomas standing amid the rising light.
"Thomas!" Rheis roared. "Look what you've done!"
Thomas turned, voice calm.
"I only gave them what the Guild denied release."
The two charged.
When their weapons met, the sound wasn't metal. It was the breaking of the world.
Seren's Choice
Seren watched from the collapsed bridge, her hands shaking. Rheis's form was vanishing into light, devoured by the harmony. She could see Thomas's silhouette radiant, fragile, monstrous.
Her sigil pulsed once more.
Inside her, the Memory Siren her forbidden power stirred, whispering a single offer:
to silence the Choir forever, at the cost of every living memory she carried.
She hesitated.
Then she stepped forward.
"If you fail as a hero…"
The Siren's voice echoed through her mind.
"…come back as a villain worth remembering."
She screamed a sound like pure resonance an