There were no sirens.
No gunfire.
No cries.
When Echo Null detonated, it didn't feel like an explosion.
It felt like forgetting.
Arian opened his eyes.
And heard nothing.
---
The crawler lay in ruins behind them, its sonic engine dead.
Orca was slumped against a stone pillar, light fading in its eyes.
Nima stumbled forward, her mouth forming words—but no sound came.
Arian grabbed her, panic flaring.
He tried to speak.
Nothing.
He tried to scream.
Still—nothing.
---
They moved through the city on foot.
Capitol streets were choked with frozen figures. Civilians mid-step. Soldiers reaching for weapons. Drones hovering like flies, now mute and blind.
Everyone had been silenced.
Everyone—except Arian.
Inside his chest, the disk throbbed. A slow heartbeat of memory.
The voices whispered—inaudible, but felt.
They weren't gone.
Only caged.
He stepped forward.
And suddenly—his footstep echoed.
Just one.
---
At the Spire's base, the gates stood open. As if the city wanted him to enter.
Nima touched his shoulder and pointed up.
A spiral staircase, vanishing into the clouds.
Orca joined them, limping. Its voice flickered—mechanical, broken.
> "You… can still… hear…"
Arian nodded.
Then pulled the wax cylinder from his belt.
It glowed.
> For the Seventh.
He climbed the stairs.
Each step felt like lifting the weight of a hundred voices.
---
At the top: a chamber of glass and gold.
The Conductor's Room.
Once the Republic's throne of acoustic control.
Now abandoned.
Except for one man.
Director Vohl.
He turned, eyes glowing with faint resonance.
"You made it," he said. His voice echoed, impossibly clear.
Arian tried to speak—but nothing came.
Vohl smiled.
"You think silence is your enemy?"
He stepped closer.
"Silence is order. Sound is chaos. We silenced the world for peace."
Arian's hands trembled.
He placed the wax cylinder into the chamber's amplifier.
Vohl shook his head.
"It won't work. This room is shielded. Echo Null is active. No vibration passes these walls."
Arian pressed play.
The wax began to spin.
And Elin's voice whispered—
> "Arian. If you're hearing this, it means you chose."
> "Now, let me show you the truth."
---
The glass shattered.
Not physically.
But sonically.
The shield broke.
The seventh voice awakened.
And Arian sang.
---
It wasn't a song of words.
It was a song of memory.
Of the desert winds in Narqai.
Of the children who never learned to hum.
Of the first mother's lullaby.
Of every scream, every whisper, every silence that mattered.
He didn't sing with the voices inside him.
He sang as them.
---
Vohl screamed, clutching his head.
His implants overloaded.
The tower shook.
Below, citizens began to stir.
Whispers returned to throats.
Birds fluttered back into the sky.
Sound returned.
---
Vohl collapsed, muttering one last time:
> "Silence was… the only way…"
Then—nothing.
---
Arian fell to his knees.
The disk cracked.
The voices fled into the wind.
He was alone again.
Truly.
Beautifully.
Alone.
---
Nima reached him first.
Her voice returned.
Barely a whisper.
But real.
"You did it."
He nodded.
And cried.
Because it was over.
And because now…
They had to decide what came next.