The nightmares started that night.
Ezra woke with a gasp, hand already reaching for the scythe by his side, but there was no enemy. Only cold sweat, the soft hum of defensive wards around the compound, and the bitter taste of ash on his tongue.
Kael stirred from across the room, her eyes half-lidded. "Another one?"
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he stood and walked to the reinforced window, pulling back the layer of dark cloth just enough to peek outside.
Beyond the perimeter walls, the city slouched under a sky of muted red. The mist never left Wraithfall. Even in the supposed safety of their outpost, the skyline always felt wrong—tilted, leaning, as if the world was holding its breath.
Ezra's breath fogged the glass.
"It wasn't like the usual dreams," he said quietly. "It was singing. Bones. A choir made of them. They were calling to me."
Kael frowned, sitting up properly now. "That... doesn't sound metaphorical."
"It wasn't."
He turned back to her, the mark on his chest still pulsing like it remembered the tune.
"There's something buried beneath this city."
The next morning, the scouts reported unusual vibrations in Zone 10—subsonic tremors accompanied by sudden undead migrations. Creatures that normally roamed alone had begun clustering around a ruined cathedral marked long ago as a Class-D hazard zone.
Worse, Ezra's own summons—those not actively bound to his will—had begun drifting toward the site without command.
He stood in the command tent, eyes locked on the shifting leyline map. The energy signatures weren't random. They spiraled like a storm. A convergence.
Kael tapped a control node on the table, enlarging the visual. "It's drawing them. Whatever's down there—it's acting like a beacon."
Ezra nodded grimly. "Or a hive."
Galen stepped in through the flap, his boots thudding heavily. "We ran an echo scan. Something is singing beneath the cathedral. Not auditory. Magical. But we all felt it."
Ezra didn't need convincing.
He still heard it.
A low, droning chorus beneath every sound, beneath his heartbeat. It wasn't loud, but it was present. Like a whisper you could never quite catch, but never quite escape.
He looked between them. "We move out at dusk."
By nightfall, the team was ready. Ezra, Kael, and Galen led the expedition, backed by six elite thralls and two bonded revenants. One was Echo—the crimson-armored former Federation officer—now outfitted with runic enhancements and carrying a double-bladed halberd. The second was new.
A priestess, retrieved from the cathedral's outskirts. She'd died holding off a necrotic swarm, her robes still stained with the blood of her final rite. Ezra had resurrected her with care—she hummed faintly, her face serene despite the green fire flickering in her eyes.
They called her Vesper.
The cathedral loomed in the distance like a jagged tooth, blackened by fire and time. Its twin spires clawed into the sky, one cracked and leaning, the other completely missing its tip. The closer they came, the louder the hum grew, resonating with Ezra's core.
They passed fields of bone—literal fields, where undead had gathered and knelt in concentric circles. None moved. None fought. They simply waited, heads bowed to the ruined cathedral like it was a holy relic.
Ezra swallowed hard.
"They're worshiping," Kael whispered.
Galen cursed under his breath. "This is bad juju."
Ezra nodded. "Stay tight. No sudden moves."
They breached the cathedral doors with a creak that felt too loud, too final. Inside, the world was bathed in pale blue light. The pews were rotted, the stained-glass windows shattered—but the altar at the far end glowed with ethereal energy.
And above it floated a single bone.
No larger than a thumb. Perfectly clean. It pulsed in time with the hum.
Ezra stepped forward—and the world screamed.
[Warning: You have entered a Convergence Zone][Entity Awakening Detected: The Bone Choir][Initiating Trial: Communion]
The cathedral trembled. Bones rattled up from beneath the floor, emerging from crypts and shattered graves. But they didn't form humanoid shapes. They twisted into instruments—drums made of ribcages, flutes of femurs, violins of sinew-stretched spines.
And then they played.
The sound wasn't just noise. It was magic. A symphony of suffering, each note dragging pain across Ezra's nerves like a blade.
Kael collapsed to one knee, clutching her ears. Galen roared, his axe glowing with warding runes.
But Ezra stood still.
The pain was unbearable. But it was also familiar.
He'd felt it in his dreams.
He raised a hand—and the bone on the altar pulsed in response.
[Communion Accepted – Hollowborn Core Reacting][Trait Gained: "Deathsong Resonance"][Your undead may inherit melody-based directives. You may command through song.]
The bone shattered.
And from the altar rose the Choir.
Twelve figures, cloaked in black, faces hidden behind golden masks. Each one carried an instrument formed from the dead. No footsteps. No heat.
Only sound.
Ezra felt his soul shake.
One of them stepped forward, a tall figure whose mask bore seven eye sockets.
It bowed.
Then it played.
A violin note, sharp and searing.
Ezra blocked just in time, spectral chains snapping out to deflect the burst of sonic force. Echo charged beside him, halberd whirling, but the Choir's music shifted to a war drum. And with it came power.
Galen and Kael flanked the edges. Kael opened fire, rounds infused with disruption glyphs. Galen's axe met the enemy's rhythm, shattering one of the Choir's bows with a thunderous clash.
Vesper stepped forward, arms wide.
And sang.
Her voice was low, haunting, but it countered the melody. Ezra felt the magic twist, hesitate. The Choir's unity stuttered. He seized the moment, raising his scythe.
"RISE."
His thralls surged forward, their forms flickering with song-based enchantments. One thrashed in sync with the Choir's rhythm, intercepting their attacks. Another began to hum—a war tune from some forgotten battlefield—disrupting the harmony.
Then the real weapon came.
Ezra began to hum.
Low at first, then louder.
Not a song he knew. A song he remembered. From the void. From the Hollow.
It didn't come from his mouth—it came from his soul.
And the undead heard it.
They didn't fight harder—they danced.
Weapons moved in perfect time. Dodges were seamless. Attacks struck just as the Choir raised defenses, slipping through cracks in the melody.
He was no longer just commanding an army.
He was conducting one.
The battle lasted eight minutes.
When the last of the Choir collapsed, the cathedral fell silent. The altar cracked. The floor beneath it shifted—revealing a stairwell that spiraled down into pitch black.
[Trial Complete][Bone Choir Defeated – Rank Evaluation: High][Skill Gained: "Necrotic Sonata" – Once per battle, you may compose a temporary symphonic command to all undead under your control. Duration: 60 seconds. Cooldown: 24 hours.]
Ezra staggered, catching himself on the altar.
Kael limped to his side, bleeding from the ears. "That... was the most metal thing I've ever seen."
Galen coughed up dust. "I'm going to be hearing ghosts playing the cello for weeks."
Ezra didn't smile.
His gaze was fixed on the stairwell.
Because the song wasn't done.
It was changing.
Becoming words.
A whisper, barely audible:
"Come find us, conductor of bone. Come find the Choir Below."