Codex Requiem

The air turned cold as Aeren traced the final sigil in the dirt.

Black-red light flared beneath his fingers. Not destructive, not chaotic—but heavy. Grounded. Real.

Lyssa watched silently as the earth pulsed once beneath them.

> Codex Recognition: Requiem of the Broken Star – Movement I composed.

Primary Effect: Dissonant Gravity – Inverts Harmony Fields within a 20-meter radius.

Secondary Effect: Echo Shield – Negates reflective verses for 3.5 seconds.

He exhaled slowly. "It's not just a weapon. It's… an anchor."

"You've created your first stable composition," Lyssa said, awe in her voice. "The Codex is finally forming a songbook. That means it's listening to you now."

"No," Aeren said, eyes distant. "It means it's preparing me for what comes next."

---

Three days later, they stood at the edge of a broken plateau known as the Crescent Scar—a battlefield left over from the last divine conflict. Cracked stone and shattered melody crystals littered the ground like bones.

It was quiet.

Too quiet.

Lyssa held up her hand. "They're here."

A pulse. Subtle. Like the hum of something ancient breathing.

From the ruins rose figures in shrouds of ash, each bearing instruments twisted by voidlight—flutes with no mouthpieces, violins with strings of shadow.

Their robes bore a single emblem: a spiral devouring a note.

"The Voidweaver Cantors," Lyssa whispered. "They silence not just songs… but the memories of songs."

Aeren stepped forward.

"Then let them try."

---

The lead Cantor raised his hand—and the sky wept silence.

No wind. No sound. Even the Codex recoiled.

> Alert: Null Harmony Field detected. Core Movement dampened.

Aeren gritted his teeth. "No. Not again."

He drove his blade into the ground. The Codex flared—and from it, a broken constellation of glowing notes rose into the air.

> "Requiem of the Broken Star – Movement I: Anchorfall."

The notes shattered mid-air and rained like meteors, each slamming into the silencing field and cracking it open with bursts of discord.

The Voidweavers faltered.

"Your silence… ends now," Aeren growled.

He lunged forward—faster, sharper. The Codex hummed in sync. His blade collided with the lead Cantor's shadow-violin, and for the first time, their music broke.

Screams echoed—real, raw.

One Cantor fell, his form unraveling into dust.

Lyssa followed suit, chanting a counter-rhythm that flooded the Scar with light again.

When it ended, only ash remained.

Aeren collapsed to one knee. The Codex burned bright, and within it, a new string hummed faintly.

> New Verse Acquired: Lament of the Forgotten Choir.

He looked to the horizon. The real war was only beginning.