The morning after the signal fire was quiet.
Not with peace, but with tension. A breath drawn and held. The Covenant had not attacked, but their silence lingered on the horizon like a fog refusing to lift. Eren stood at the edge of the camp, cloak rippling in the wind, eyes fixed on the distant hills.
Behind him, the silver-and-white banner fluttered. It bore no name, no crest. Only the mark of fire. His fire.
Elira joined him, boots crunching against frost-kissed earth.
"They're not pulling back," she said. "Just watching."
"I know," Eren replied. "They're waiting for the silence to break."
"And when it does?"
Eren glanced at her.
"Then we make sure we're the ones who speak first."
They returned to camp, where the others had gathered. A few more had joined overnight. Survivors. Wanderers. Not warriors, but willing hands. The kind of people who had nothing left to lose and had chosen to stand beside flame instead of cower beneath shadow.
Syra stepped into the circle and spoke first.
"Two groups flanking us. Small. Not meant to strike. Just to listen."
Eren nodded.
"Let them hear."
Elira crossed her arms.
"We can't hold this valley if the Covenant decides to strike. Not with this few."
"Then we don't hold it," Eren said. "We use it."
He pointed toward the low hills east of camp.
"There's a ruin just past those ridges. A Seer's circle. Still partially intact. If the Covenant wants us to speak, we speak from there."
Syra narrowed her eyes.
"You want to make a declaration?"
"No," Eren replied. "I want to leave them with nothing left to question."
They broke camp within the hour.
The march was slow, but steady. The newcomers carried supplies and blades they barely knew how to hold. Still, no one turned back. By the time they reached the circle, the fog had lifted just enough to reveal its shape.
Half-sunken into the earth, the Seer's ring looked like a broken crown. Twelve stones stood in a circle, each engraved with a different flame sigil. In the center, a raised platform where echoes once whispered prophecy into chosen ears.
Elira stepped carefully across the stones.
"This place remembers."
Eren stepped onto the platform. Akreth pulsed softly in its sheath.
He drew the blade.
The runes shimmered, silver light tracing old scars in the stone.
Then he turned to face the watchers.
They stood in the mist. Dozens. Maybe more. Cloaked figures wrapped in silence, their mirrored masks reflecting the pale sky. Covenant observers. Not yet soldiers. Not yet enemies.
Not yet.
Eren's voice cut through the valley, sharp and clear.
"You've watched long enough."
No response.
He stepped forward.
"You sent Seers to study the sword. You sent Reclaimers to bind it. You let the Circle burn in its name. And now you stand there, hoping silence will undo me."
The wind shifted.
Still no answer.
Eren raised Akreth. The blade flared not with heat, but with clarity.
"I am not here to be studied."
He pointed the blade toward the masked assembly.
"I am not your subject. I am not your vessel. I am not what you feared I would become."
One figure stepped forward.
Cloth parted.
A voice, neither male nor female, rang out.
"Then what are you?"
Eren's answer was quiet, but final.
"I am the flame you cannot define."
A breath passed.
The mist broke.
Dozens of the watchers turned and walked away.
But not all.
A single figure remained, unmasked, face pale and lined with gold-etched scars. Their eyes held no hatred. Only gravity.
"You've changed the current," the figure said. "But not the ocean."
Eren stepped down from the platform.
"Then let the ocean come."
They watched each other for a long moment.
Then the figure bowed not in reverence, but in recognition.
"You've made your stand."
"And now?"
"Now we respond."
The figure turned and vanished into the veil.
Elira came to Eren's side.
"That wasn't a threat."
"No," Eren said. "It was a promise."
He turned to the circle. To the people behind him.
"This is the end of silence."
Syra nodded slowly.
"Then it's time we taught the world how to listen."