Chapter 3: The Price of Silence (Part 2)
The High Inquisitor didn't move, but the air around him began to vibrate with a low, humming sound. The golden crystal in his hand—the 'Sol-Heart'—lit up the dark tunnel with a blinding radiance. Unlike my violet shadow-memory, his power felt heavy, like the weight of a thousand eyes watching you at once.
"The Soul-Bank is order, Kaelen," the Inquisitor spoke, his voice like grinding metal. "We take the chaos of human emotions and turn them into stability. Without us, people would be driven mad by their own grief and regrets. We are not the villains; we are the anchors of this world."
I pushed Elara behind a rusted pillar. "Anchors? You're parasites. You don't just take the grief; you take the joy, the hope, and the dreams. You turn people into empty shells just so you can power your neon towers."
The Inquisitor raised his hand. A beam of concentrated golden light shot toward me. I reacted instinctively, thrusting the violet crystal forward. A shield of swirling shadows erupted from my palm, clashing with the golden beam. The impact sent a shockwave through the tunnel, cracking the stone walls.
"You are using a memory of the Forbidden Era," the Inquisitor hissed, his bone mask glowing. "That power was buried for a reason. It is the memory of the Great Erasure, the day humanity almost forgot how to be human."
I felt my knees buckle. Maintaining the shadow shield was draining my very life force. I could feel the coldness of the violet memory seeping into my bones, turning my blood to ice. But I couldn't stop. If I let go, Elara and I would be wiped from existence.
"Kaelen, look out!" Elara screamed.
From the shadows behind the Inquisitor, two more enforcers appeared, their silver batons crackling with electricity. They weren't aiming for me—they were aiming for the roof of the tunnel.
CRACK!
The ceiling groaned. They were trying to bury us alive.
"If we can't have the memory, no one will," the Inquisitor said coldly.
As the first few boulders began to fall, I realized I had to do something desperate. I didn't just need to use the memory; I had to release it. I turned to Elara. "Hold onto me and don't let go! Whatever you see, whatever you feel, don't let go of your own name!"
I crushed the violet crystal in my hand.
A scream that wasn't mine tore through the tunnel. It wasn't a sound of pain, but a sound of a thousand voices finally being heard. The violet light exploded, not outward, but upward, piercing through the layers of the city like a needle of dark light.
The falling rocks froze in mid-air. The Inquisitor's golden light was swallowed by the void. For a brief second, the entire city of Aethelgard went silent as everyone felt a sudden, sharp memory of a sun that didn't burn.
When the light faded, the tunnel was empty. The Inquisitor and his men were gone, leaving only their bone masks behind. But the cost was high. The violet crystal was now nothing but dust in my hand.
"We have to go," I whispered, my voice hoarse. "The map... it's in my head now. The Vault is open."