The day had arrived. The sky over the Capital was no longer a metallic copper, but a bruised, blackened purple, as if the atmosphere itself was hemorrhaging under the pressure of invisible frequencies.
The Great Cathedral stood like a thirsty white giant. Inside, thousands of marble pillars had been fitted with silver pipes connected directly to the resonance chambers beneath the earth. The common folk crowded into the main hall, their eyes vacant and bodies trembling in rhythm with the low hum vibrating from the church walls.
Rainnes Juoi stepped down the central aisle. She wore her coronation gown—a masterpiece of mercury and silk that made every step sound like the tolling of a funeral bell. The golden thorn crown upon her head pulsed violently now, driving frequencies of absolute obedience directly into her nerves.
Beneath her tongue, she could feel the cold, sharp edge of the blue crystal Harold had given her.
"Do not tremble, my Saintess," whispered William, walking beside her in dazzling golden armor. "The world is watching. Give them the destruction they mistake for salvation."
Rainnes stared at the high pulpit ahead, where the figure of the Pope sat frozen, his face obscured by a silver veil. In Rainnes' eyes, the Pope was no longer a man; he was the eye of a black storm, a sinkhole of energy ready to swallow everything.
At the same moment, deep beneath the Cathedral's marble floors, Harold de Croul moved through the darkness. He had slipped in through the mercury drainage tunnels Valerius had described. The stinging chemical stench and the sweltering heat from the massive steam engines made his breath hitch.
Harold reached the area directly beneath the main pulpit. There, he saw it: a massive glass tube filled with liquid mercury, pulsing in time with Rainnes' footsteps above. This was the Core Vocal.
"One minute left," Harold muttered. He gripped the hilt of his greatsword, his black armor slick with sweat and machine oil.
He was not alone. Through the crystal in his ear, Anne Marie Vain's voice came through sharp and clear.
"Harold, listen to me. William isn't just waiting for the blast. He has stationed shadow knights at every vent. If you destroy that crystal too early, the safety mechanism will reroute the energy into the civilian quarters. You must strike exactly when Rainnes reaches her peak resonance."
"I know, Anne," Harold replied. "What about the harbor?"
"Our three ships are ready with anti-resonance plating to evacuate anyone who survives the first wave. But Harold... if that machine detonates, you are the closest to the center. You might not make it out."
Harold offered a faint smirk, a rare expression Anne couldn't see. "Just make sure the grain reaches the North, Anne. That was our deal."
Atop the pulpit, the Pope raised his trembling hands. The entire hall fell into a deathly silence—a silence that felt like a physical weight.
"Sing, O Voice of Heaven!" the Pope cried, his voice sounding like the scraping of a tombstone. "Lead us toward eternity!"
Rainnes stepped to the center of the altar. She could feel the energy of thousands of people below being forcibly siphoned toward her. She looked at William, who stood in the front row with an expression of pure triumph.
Rainnes closed her eyes. She moved the blue crystal from beneath her tongue to the center of her mouth.
Heartbeat. Remember Harold's heartbeat.
Rainnes opened her mouth.
The first note that emerged was not a melodious hymn. It was a high-frequency shriek that shattered the Cathedral's stained glass in an instant. Electric blue light exploded from her mouth, colliding with the black energy being drawn by the Cathedral.
Underground, Harold saw the mercury tube begin to vibrate until it cracked.
"Now!" Harold roared.
He slammed his blade with all his might into the Core Vocal.
SHATTER!
The sound of the explosion did not come from fire, but from the tearing of the air itself. The entire Cathedral buckled. William, who had expected the blast to flatten the masses, watched in horror as the blue light turned inward, attacking the silver pipes on the walls and surging back into the Cathedral's nervous center.
"NO!" William screamed.
But his voice was drowned by the roar of destructive frequencies. Rainnes stood in the center of the light-storm, her golden thorn crown shattering into pieces, releasing her mind from William's shackles.
The Great Cathedral of Ourem began to collapse into itself, swallowing the lies that had been built over centuries.