The silence in the Vale was more terrifying than the screaming had been.
When the final acoustic emitter on the eastern ridge was sabotaged, the agonizing, high-frequency hum that had turned the Gathering into a site of primal slaughter snapped like a dry twig. The sudden absence of the noise felt like a physical blow to the chest. In the valley below, dozens of figures, some in shredded silk, others in scorched tactical gear, collapsed where they stood, clutching their heads as their equilibrium struggled to recalibrate to the sudden, ringing quiet.
