The Singer's offer echoed in the silent chamber, a choice between two impossible futures. James felt as if he were standing on a cliff edge, with one side leading to the death of his sister and the other to the destruction of his world. His mind, already exhausted from holding back the Singer's power, struggled to comprehend the sheer scale of her proposal.
"Destroy… everything?" he thought back to her, the idea so monstrous he could barely form the words. He pictured Luminar, the only home he'd ever known. He didn't see the uncaring Master Weavers or the grand spires; he saw the face of the woman who sold bread in the market below his apartment, the sound of children laughing in the common squares. He saw a city of people, not just a city of magic.
Nyx's hand was still holding his, a warm and steady presence in the chaos. Her whispery voice entered his mind, not with malice, but with a simple, cold logic that cut through his confusion.
"What is 'everything,' James?" she asked. "Is it the city that threw you away? The Academy that called you a failure? The Weavers who would let your sister turn to stone? This place is a beautiful prison built on top of a forgotten graveyard. Why would you fight to save your jailers?"
Her words hit home. She was right. Luminar had never been kind to him. But still… the thought of erasing it all, of becoming the monster that ended the world for his own selfish reason, felt like a betrayal of something deep inside him.
"There has to be another way," he said aloud, the words a desperate prayer.
He never got to find out what it was.
A new sound began, a low, grinding roar from outside the spire that vibrated through the floor. It was a sickening noise, like stone being turned into sand. The violet light of the crystalline walls around them began to flicker violently, as if in pain.
Nyx stiffened, her glowing eyes fixed on the entrance to their chamber. "They're here," she hissed. "They are not asking to come in. They are breaking the door."
The Singer's consciousness, which had been focused on James, whipped around to face this new threat. Her immense, ancient power turned from persuasion to pure fury. A psychic shriek of rage filled their minds, a feeling of violation and hatred so strong it made James want to retch.
"WEAVERS! YOU WILL NOT PUT ME BACK IN THE SILENCE!"
The entire spire seemed to roar with her. The crystalline walls, which had glowed with a soft violet, now began to bleed a furious, pulsing red. The air grew heavy, thick with a tangible, murderous intent.
Outside, Warden Valerius stood calmly before the spire. He pointed a single, gloved finger forward. "Breach," he commanded.
His team of ten soldiers in flawless grey armor activated a large, strange machine. It hummed, and a beam of pure, grey nothingness shot forward. It didn't cause an explosion. Where the beam hit the spire's wall, the black crystal simply… vanished. There was no dust, no debris, just a perfect, circular hole that opened into the spire's interior.
The grey soldiers, their faces hidden behind reflective masks, raised wands that glowed with the same dull, hungry light. They marched inside.
They entered a world of chaos, but they were the calm at the center of the storm. The Singer's rage threw everything it had at them. The crystal floor twisted, forming into massive, sharp spikes. The soldiers simply pointed their wands, and the spikes dissolved into silent dust before they could even form completely. Ghostly figures with screaming faces rushed out of the walls; the soldiers erased them with casual flicks of their wrists. They moved with a cold, practiced teamwork, an island of absolute order in a sea of fury, and they were getting closer.
James and Nyx were trapped in the heart of the conflict. The walls of their chamber had become like windows, showing them horrifying, shifting glimpses of the battle outside. They watched the grey soldiers advance, their magic-eating weapons erasing everything the Singer threw at them.
A stray beam of that grey nothingness lanced through a crack in the wall, heading straight for the crystal prison. Acting on pure instinct, James threw out a hand and unraveled a massive, floating crystal platform, causing it to drop directly in the beam's path. The platform vanished without a sound, but the beam was blocked. They were caught in the crossfire.
Valerius, observing the battle from the outside, saw that his soldiers were being slowed. He changed his tactics.
Suddenly, the chaos quieted. A small, perfect circle of silence melted into the wall of their central chamber. Through the opening, a shimmering, projected image of Warden Valerius appeared. He looked perfectly calm, his robes neat, a stark contrast to the raging battle around them. His cold eyes swept the room, passed over the Singer in her crystal, and landed on James.
"The Dissonant," Valerius said. His voice was not angry or loud; it was calm, measured, and amplified by magic, filling the entire chamber. "I see you have allied yourself with the plague that created the Grey Tangle."
He raised his hand, not in attack, but as if he were a teacher lecturing a child.
"I will give you one chance. First, you will surrender the girl. Her bloodline is the key we need to seal this plague away again. Second, you will surrender yourself and explain your presence here."
His calm eyes narrowed.
"You have one minute to comply. If you fail, I will give the order to destroy this entire structure. You, the girl, this ancient creature… all of it will be erased from existence."