The rain had stopped, briefly, leaving the city in a gray, washed-out haze. The Refrains had taken Ren to an abandoned high-rise on the edge of the industrial district. From the top floor, the city stretched endlessly, broken and glimmering with puddled neon lights.
Shouma leaned against the railing, hands in pockets, his golden eyes fixed on Ren.
> "Before you ask," Shouma said, voice calm, "we don't hide the truth. The world's grief isn't something you erase, it's something you understand. And some of that grief… is tied to you."
Ren stiffened. His mother. His father. The Black Rain.
> "What do you mean?" he asked, voice tight.
> "Ten years ago," Shouma began, "a catastrophic event changed this city. They call it the Black Rain, but it wasn't natural. The Choir engineered it."
Ren's chest constricted. He remembered only fragments: the storm, the screams, the emptiness afterward.
> "The Choir?" he whispered.
> "A faction nobody outside knows about. They manipulate grief, memories, even death, to create… energy." Shouma's gaze sharpened. "They experiment on the human soul itself. Your parents… your loss… it wasn't random."
Ren's knees went weak. He turned to the shattered glass, staring at his reflection.
> "So… it was all… planned?"
> "Yes," Shouma said. "And that is why your power exists. You are a bridge between the living and the echoes they tried to erase."
---
Shouma motioned for Ren to follow. They descended through dark stairwells, reaching a forgotten subway station. The walls were lined with murals of the city, memories preserved in paint, depicting families, laughter, and the first Black Rain.
> "These murals… they're all Ethereal imprints," Shouma explained.
"The Choir tried to contain the grief, but they underestimated its resilience. Every soul left behind an echo. That's what you are."
Ren felt it, a pulse in the air, a resonance of pain and love mixed together.
> "My… my family?" he asked, voice shaking.
Shouma nodded.
> "Your mother's death, your father's last words… they weren't mistakes. They were catalysts. They made you what you are today."
Ren's mind reeled. Anger, grief, confusion, and fear collided in a storm stronger than the rain outside.
> "Why show me this?" he demanded.
"Why me?"
> "Because the Choir still exists," Shouma said, voice low.
"And soon, they'll try to use what you carry against everyone else. You can either let them, or you can take control. But you must understand… you're not alone."
A soft shimmer passed over the broken murals, an Ethereal imprint of a woman reaching for a child. Ren felt the echo's longing pierce him.
> "I… I can feel her," he whispered.
"Her pain… her hope…"
Shouma placed a hand on his shoulder, firm but gentle.
> "That's the first step. Feeling it is one thing. Using it… controlling it… that's the path ahead. You'll need Aira, and perhaps… even the Order, whether you like it or not."
Ren looked toward the city lights below, where rain began to fall again, this time heavier, almost impatient, as if urging him onward.
> "Then… I have to learn," he said, voice steady, though inside, a storm raged.
"I have to understand… and I have to stop them."
Shouma's lips curved into a faint smile.
> "Good. Then the real lesson begins tomorrow. And for the first time… the city's cries might finally be heard."
---
End of Chapter 6