The Spire crumbled behind them.
Kael didn't look back.
None of them did.
The Ninth Shard pulsed beneath his skin like a second heartbeat. Every step he took felt heavier now—not just physically, but spiritually. Like his body was no longer his alone. Something deeper moved within him.
A memory.
A flame.
A will.
They traveled in silence for hours through the scarred plains, the sun hidden behind ash-gray clouds. Their crawler had been half-destroyed during the resonance burst in the Spire, forcing them to hike across the jagged terrain.
Everywhere Kael looked, the world felt… different.
Alive.
Watching.
"Anyone else feel like the ground's holding its breath?" Bren muttered, stepping around a patch of molten soil.
"It's not just the ground," Nira replied, scanning the horizon with her visor. "Resonance levels are rising all across the grid. Even the dead zones are reactivating."
Kael stopped walking.
He turned to the others. "He said our war hasn't even begun. What did he mean?"
"The prototype?" Lira asked, adjusting the sling on her arm. "He wasn't talking about the Syndicate. That was something else."
"Something worse," Nira added. "I picked up a trace signal back in the Spire. Buried beneath the shard's resonance. It was like a broadcast—ancient, encrypted, repeating a single phrase in a dead tongue."
Kael narrowed his eyes. "What phrase?"
She hesitated. Then translated: "The Silence will return."
Back at base, Seris was waiting with grim news.
"The resonance grid is failing," she said, pointing to the main screen. "Our stabilizers are overloaded. Shard frequencies across all sectors are syncing into a harmonic convergence."
Kael stepped forward. "In English?"
"It means the Nine are triggering a reaction in the fabric of reality. This has never happened before. It's like... the world is tuning itself for something."
"A song?" Bren asked, half-joking.
Seris didn't smile. "A summoning."
Kael clenched his jaw. "Is this what the Syndicate feared?"
"No," she replied. "This is what they were trying to prevent. The Syndicate didn't want to control the Nine. They wanted to contain them."
Lira paled. "Then they failed."
That night, Kael dreamt.
He stood in a vast desert of glass.
Above, stars bled into trails of gold and crimson.
A figure walked toward him—hooded, cloaked in light and shadow. No face. No voice.
Only presence.
Kael reached for his blade—but it wasn't there.
The figure raised a hand.
And the ground split.
From beneath the desert, an enormous skeletal arm emerged. Its fingers clawed skyward, dragging the rest of a titan from beneath the surface. Its bones were blackened. Its heart a burning, hollow shard.
Kael tried to run—but his legs were rooted in place.
The figure spoke, voice echoing like a thousand voices at once:
"They were not gods. They were locks. And you… are the key."
He awoke in cold sweat.
The shard in his chest burned like fire.
Outside, alarms screamed.
Kael shot up, grabbed his blade, and rushed into the corridor.
Seris intercepted him. "Incoming resonance quake—epicenter's under us!"
"What?!"
"The base isn't the target. It's what's beneath it!"
Before Kael could respond, the floor shook violently.
Walls cracked.
Lights shattered.
And from deep below, a sound erupted—a low, haunting note that made every shard in the room pulse with pain.
Kael collapsed to his knees, his mind flooded with images.
A buried city.
A sleeping gate.
A throne made of shattered stars.
The Ninth Shard within him screamed.
The others—Lira, Nira, Bren—rushed to his side.
"What's happening to him?" Lira shouted.
"He's resonating with the source!" Seris yelled over the alarms. "The convergence has begun!"
Suddenly, Kael's eyes snapped open.
They glowed silver.
And he spoke—but not with his voice.
With theirs.
"All echoes return to fire. All fire returns to the Gate."
Then, as quickly as it started, it stopped.
Kael blinked.
And whispered, "It's under us. The core… the beginning."
Hours later, they stood before a sealed shaft hidden beneath the base's ancient sublevels.
A lift hadn't been used in decades.
Seris keyed the override.
"It was discovered after the First Shattering," she explained. "No one knew how deep it went. The Syndicate labeled it dormant."
"Then why didn't they destroy it?" Kael asked.
"They tried," she said grimly. "But the gate wouldn't burn. Nothing could reach it."
The lift doors opened.
Darkness awaited.
Kael looked to the others.
No one spoke.
They entered.
And descended.
The shaft took them miles down.
Past metal.
Past stone.
Past history.
Until they emerged into a chamber so large, Kael couldn't see the ceiling.
It wasn't built.
It was grown.
The walls pulsed like muscle.
Strange glyphs floated in the air, whispering secrets in long-dead languages.
At the center stood a gate—twice the height of a titan, carved from obsidian and starfire. Shards circled its frame, spinning slowly in orbit.
Kael stepped forward.
The Ninth Shard pulsed wildly in his chest, resonating with the gate.
"It's not a door," he said softly.
Bren squinted. "Then what is it?"
Kael turned to face them.
His voice calm.
Certain.
"It's a prison."
The room darkened.
A voice echoed—deep, ancient, furious.
"You come bearing Nine… yet know not the weight of the Echo. Foolish children."
From the gate, a figure emerged—not solid. A projection. An echo.
Tall. Hooded. Eyes like dying suns.
"Who are you?" Kael demanded.
The being laughed.
"I am Silence. I am the end of flame. I am what the Nine were forged to stop."
Kael raised his blade. "You're the one behind the Shatterings."
"I am beneath them. I am the truth they buried. And now… you will open the gate. And free me."
"No," Kael said firmly. "We're here to make sure it stays shut."
The being raised its hand—and the chamber exploded with resonance.
Kael was thrown back.
The world spun.
The last thing he heard before blacking out was Lira screaming his name.
And the gate singing.