The small chamber revealed behind the retuned glass was surprisingly simple after the deceptive complexity of the Labyrinth. The walls were smooth, made of the same dark matter as the Veil, but without the twists and fluidity of the outer areas. The air here was still, free of the confusing echoes and palpable dissonance that had dominated the preceding hours.
In the center of this tranquil chamber, suspended at chest height, floated the object of our quest: a golden orb. It was smaller than the depictions of the Primeval Monolith we'd seen, but it radiated a warm, steady light and a pure, rhythmic pulse, cleansed of any distortion. It felt... peaceful. An island of order in the chaos of the Fade.
We approached it in silence, our footsteps muffled by the strange floor. My companions stopped at a respectful distance, giving me space. Recovering and tuning the fragments was my task, my unique connection to the original symphony.
I reached out toward the golden orb. As my hand drew closer, I felt its rhythmic pulse align with my own, and with the echoes of the other fragments I already carried. There was no resistance, no defense. Only a welcome.
As my fingers touched the smooth, warm surface of the orb, I felt a surge of pure rhythmic energy. It wasn't overwhelming like the dissonance of the Labyrinth or the fury of the Painter, but empowering, clarifying. The golden orb dissolved into a brilliant light that was absorbed into my being, joining the other golden echoes within me. It was no longer an external object; it was part of my own resonance.
And with its integration, came the information. As if the fragment were a piece of memory, a rhythmic record of the past. Images, sounds, and sensations flooded my mind. Quick, fragmented glimpses, difficult to fully retain, but unmistakably linked to the history of the Fracture.
I saw... hands. Ancient, non-human hands, perhaps the original architects. Working on an immense structure, the Primeval Monolith, imbuing it with perfect harmony. I felt the intention behind their work: to create an anchor of order for the Veil, a rhythmic beacon that would keep chaos at bay.
Then, the rupture. Not an explosion, but a tearing. A rhythmic silence . I saw figures... different. Cloaked, shadowy. The Silencers. Attacking not with noise, but with the absence of sound, with the eradication of rhythm. I felt their motivation... a deep fear of harmony, perhaps, or a belief that silence was the only true purity. I saw the Monolith crack, its symphony shatter, its fragments scattering like dying echoes through the Veil.
Finally, an echo of pain. The pain of the Source being torn apart, losing its primary anchor. And an... impulse. The impulse to heal the wound, to paint over it to contain the damage. The Painter. Her motive seemed to be... well-intentioned at first, a desperate response to catastrophe. But her "art" was dissonance, erasure, because that was all the fractured Veil offered her as a tool.
The visions receded, leaving me reeling slightly, my head filled with distant echoes and a deeper understanding. I felt the presence of a new golden echo within me, adding to the incomplete symphony I carried.
"[Narrator]? Are you okay?" Gustave's concerned voice brought me back.
I opened my eyes. My companions were watching me. "Yes," I said, my voice a little distant. "The fragment... it showed me things. About the Fracture. About the Silencers. About the Painter."
I told them what I had seen, the fragmented visions of the architects, the silent breakdown of the Silencers, the painful response of the Painter.
Sciel listened eagerly, his eyes glittering. "Crucial information... 'Silence' as a weapon... That explains why dissonance is her tool. It's the antithesis of silence. And the Painter... if her motivation is healing, even in a twisted way, perhaps... perhaps she isn't a purely malevolent entity. Perhaps she's a force trapped in the only method she knows to contain chaos."
"Intentionally or not, your 'healing' is erasing us," Maelle replied pragmatically. "We need true healing. The restoration of the Monolith."
"And for that, we need more fragments," Lune added.
I consulted my own rhythmic perception, now amplified by the new fragment. And then, Sciel activated his device. The new information from the fragment was integrated with the existing data, further refining the Veil's rhythmic map. The signal for the next fragment became clear.
"Next..." Sciel said, pointing at his screen. "It's... in the south. In a region the chronicles call... 'The Echoic Waste.' A place of great open spaces and... lingering echoes. Difficult to navigate by the natural resonance of the environment."
The Echoic Wasteland. It sounded very different from the Resonant Maze. A challenge of navigation in open spaces, where sounds propagated endlessly, rather than being trapped and distorted. Each fragment seemed protected by an environment that reflected its own "wound," or the nature of its surrounding dissonance.
We looked around. The dark crystal cavern no longer felt threatening. The retuned crystal emitted a soft, steady pulse, an anchor of order in what had been a maelstrom of dissonance. The inert Rhythmic Shadows at the edges were only reminders of the battle. The Labyrinth itself, stripped of the crystal's amplification, seemed to have calmed. The walls no longer fluctuated violently; they were still twisted, but stable.
It was time to go. Leave the Echoing Maze behind and head toward the Echoing Wasteland. The expedition didn't stop.
We left the small chamber of the shard, leaving the retuned crystal as a silent monument to our victory and a point of restored order. As we moved through the Labyrinth's passages, we noticed that the return journey was different. Though the geometry remained strange, paths no longer closed or twisted unexpectedly. The muddled echoes had diminished to a distant, manageable murmur. The Rhythmic Shadows had dissipated completely, leaving only the eerie stillness of the Veil.
The Labyrinth had been tamed, at least for now.
We reached the passage we had entered through what felt like days ago, though time in the Fade was uncertain. Emerging from the Echoing Maze felt like waking from a fever dream of confusion. The air outside, though still part of the Fade, felt different, more expansive, already carrying the first hints of the resonance of the Echoic Waste that awaited us.
Another fragment in our possession. More pieces of the Fracture puzzle. And the next clear direction. Expedition 33 was preparing for its next journey, south, toward the open spaces where echoes never died and where harmony sought to be heard. The Echoic Wasteland called to us.
.
Hello everyone, what did you think of the chapter? Please let me know in the comments. If you want to download the full book, it's available on my KO-FI page. The link is here. 👉
🤩ko-fi.com/winterstar01/shop🤩