Part II — The Broadcast of Truth
The first sound was soft — a single note, pure enough to crack stone.
Then came the harmony: frequencies colliding, divine light bending through mortal sound.
The emissary's blade of radiance clashed against a wall of resonant flame — lunar fire that pulsed in rhythm with Kai's heartbeat. Each impact exploded in fractal colors, a dance of shadow and divinity.
The Alpha wolves lunged; Syndicate rifles discharged anti-divine bursts; the air became chaos incarnate — and through it all, Kai's voice cut like a razor through silk.
He was no longer singing to them.
He was tuning the world around them.
Every lie they'd built — every oath, every code — began to unravel under his frequency.
Temples cracked. Divine circuits overloaded. The sky itself rippled, flickering between realities.
"STOP HIM!" the emissary roared, her wings fracturing into shards of light.
Kai stepped forward, half-human, half-moonfire, eyes burning with reflected galaxies.
"I'm not here to destroy you," he said. "I just want everyone to hear."
Then he screamed — not in rage, but in revelation.
The sound tore across realms.
The veil split.
Every mortal, god, and monster felt it — a resonant truth broadcast across existence:
> The gods feed on worship.
The Syndicate feeds on control.
And both have been feeding on them.
The world convulsed.
The divine broadcast collapsed into white noise — a chorus of disbelief, awe, and fear.