The sphere struck the tunnel wall and burst with a flare of blue light. For an instant the air trembled, rippling like water. The drone screamed—a piercing metallic shriek—as its sensors overloaded. Sparks spat from its antennae before it slammed against the stone and crumpled in a shower of metal shards.
The Quiet Guards staggered, their visors flickering red to black. Mira didn't hesitate. She dragged Kael down a narrow crack between walls, deeper into the earth, until the hum of pursuit faded.
They collapsed in a hollow chamber lit by a single candle stub. Kael pressed his back to the wall, chest heaving. His hand still burned from the sphere's energy.
"You did it," Mira said, her voice low but fierce. "You didn't freeze this time."
Kael stared at the scorch mark where the drone had died, his mind reeling. "How many more of those are there?"
"Too many," she admitted. "And worse is coming."
Before Kael could ask, she pulled something from her satchel—a bundle wrapped in cloth. She unrolled it carefully, revealing brittle sheets of paper covered in script Kael didn't recognize. Letters curved and danced across the page like music.
"What is this?" Kael asked softly.
Mira's eyes glistened. "A language the Accord erased. My mother spoke it when I was a child. Now it survives only here, in fragments." She pressed the paper to her chest. "They don't just take voices, Kael. They take meaning. History. Every word they burn is a people forgotten."
Kael touched the page, reverent. The letters seemed alive beneath his fingers, whispering secrets he couldn't hear.
Mira's voice hardened. "The Accord's new project is worse than silencing us. They're targeting what's left of old tongues—anything not sanctioned, anything that reminds people they were once free. Soon, all that's left will be their words, their order."
Kael felt a cold fury rise inside him. His silence had always felt personal, a punishment he alone carried. But now he saw it for what it was—part of something vast and cruel, a war not just against sound but against memory itself.
Mira leaned closer, her gaze burning. "This is why we fight. Not just for voices—but for the words themselves. If they win, there will be nothing left to remember who we were."
Kael looked at her, then at the fragile pages in her hands. His chest tightened, but this time it wasn't fear. It was resolve.
He didn't know how yet, but he would not let those words turn to ash.