A whisper was all it took.
"Break."
And the world obeyed.
It was not just sound—it was command. It was not just breath—it was fate given shape. Kairo stood at the center of the chamber, his eyes burning with a golden light, his voice echoing against the ancient stone, not as sound—but as truth.
The first seal unraveled like it had been waiting to fall.
The second cracked with a hiss, like a wounded beast exhaling for the first time.
By the time the sixth seal shattered, Kairo had dropped to his knees, sweat rolling down his face as his limbs trembled under pressure. The chamber, long-forgotten and buried beneath centuries of soil and time, now pulsed like a living thing.
Runes emerged from the stone walls, glowing faintly, ancient and undeciphered—but to Kairo, they whispered. Words. Songs. Screams.
They heard him.
The Voice of Dominion wasn't a power granted to him. It was a birthright etched into his soul, locked behind chains crafted by people too afraid to hear what he truly had to say.
Kairo had always spoken carefully. Out of necessity. Out of fear.
Now… the world was starting to listen.
As the twelfth seal cracked, a pulse of mana rippled outward, shaking the stone floor. Dust fell like snowfall. The runes on his arms flared, turning crimson, then gold, and then faded—only to burn again, brighter.
Kairo bit down on his lip, not in pain, but focus.
The 13th… 14th… each one unraveled with less resistance than the last. But each came with weight. Not physical, but emotional.
Memories returned in shards.
He saw his mother's face—smiling, but her eyes hollow. He saw her being dragged away. He remembered the voices of nobles standing in judgment.
"He must be controlled."
"His words are dangerous."
"We've lost control over lesser threats for less."
He remembered his father—standing tall, saying nothing. Not defending. Not denying.
Just watching.
He'd sealed his own son, watched as the Order placed twenty-four bindings across his soul. Not to protect him.
To contain him.
A single boy who could shape reality with sound was too much of a threat to a world built on silence.
As the eighteenth seal broke, Kairo's eyes flickered—one glowing deep gold, the other a pale silver. His mana was no longer hidden. It sang.
Not in harmony.
But in truth.
Truth was jagged. Ugly. Powerful.
---
Outside the ruin, the forest trembled.
Insects went quiet. Birds scattered. The sky above the trees darkened not from clouds—but from pressure. A ripple passed through the atmosphere—silent to most, but to those sensitive to mana, it felt like the world had just exhaled after holding its breath for centuries.
Inside, Kairo stood alone—yet far from powerless.
The final six seals—each one older, deeper, more entwined with his very soul—refused to break easily.
And he knew why.
They weren't only holding back mana.
They were holding back him.
His instincts. His truth. His memories of what really happened ten years ago.
When he had whispered something during a moment of panic… and the capital's eastern gate had crumbled.
When he'd spoken and a noble had died—heart stopped, bones crushed—not because Kairo had meant it.
But because the world had obeyed him.
They'd told him he was dangerous.
But they never told him why.
---
As the twenty-first seal cracked, the pain became real.
Blood trickled from his ears. His knees gave way and he collapsed fully onto the stone floor. His fingernails scraped into cracks in the ground as his body seized with raw power. And above him—the air began to vibrate.
Not with magic.
But with response.
The world was answering him.
A voice—ancient, genderless, deeper than echo—spoke within his mind.
"You awaken that which sleeps. Do you understand what you are?"
Kairo gritted his teeth.
"I… don't care."
The voice did not retreat.
"You are the last Echo. The heir of a forbidden tongue. Your words are not sound. They are will."
Kairo struggled to rise. His arms trembled. His bones felt heavy. The runes on his skin spiraled, glowing with defiant light.
And yet—he stood.
He always stood.
"I didn't ask to be this," he whispered. "But I won't be silent anymore."
With that, the twenty-second seal shattered.
A wind blasted outward from the ruin, knocking loose the moss on the walls, sending a silent howl into the trees outside. Akhtar, who had been standing at the boundary of the clearing, looked up with narrowed eyes.
"…You've begun," he muttered.
The animals had long since fled. The birds no longer sang. Even the mana in the air around the forest had thickened, trembling like it knew what was waking.
---
Kairo's vision blurred.
The twenty-third seal was alive—not in a literal sense, but in resistance. It fought back, gripping to him like a parasite that had learned to mask itself as a vital organ. His chest burned. He could feel it trying to rewrite his thoughts—implant doubts.
"You'll destroy everything."
"They'll hate you again."
"You're just a weapon."
But Kairo had heard worse.
He had been told, all his life, to be quiet.
Now he wanted the world to listen.
He reached into the bond of the seal—his own soul twisted into it—and spoke again.
This time, not with power.
With intent.
"Break."
It didn't explode.
It unwound.
Like a lie slowly peeling away from truth.
Like silence surrendering to the storm.
When the twenty-third seal died, Kairo collapsed, breathing heavily. He lay there, his hand over his chest, feeling his heartbeat—not racing, not struggling.
Just… calm.
One more.
One left.
The twenty-fourth.
This one was different.
This was the one placed directly by the Order of Silents. This wasn't just a barrier. It was a law.
It sat in the center of his soul like a throne—and Kairo wasn't allowed to sit on it.
Not yet.
---
"Kairo!"
The voice called from above.
He turned, dazed, as Samhael descended the steps, her sword still sheathed but her stance alert.
"You triggered every alarm ward in the region," Samhael said, frowning. "You've barely been gone an hour."
Kairo didn't respond.
Samhael eyes narrowed as she stepped closer and saw the golden rings spiraling faintly around Kairo's arms.
"…You undid them."
"Not all," Kairo muttered. "Just twenty-three."
Samhael dropped to a knee beside him, checking for injuries before pulling out a mana crystal and placing it near Kairo's forehead. It flickered, struggled, then burned out.
"That's not normal," Samhael muttered.
"I'm not normal," Kairo said, forcing a smile.
Samhael exhaled, resting his hand briefly on Kairo's shoulder.
"You're a timebomb."
"I'm me," Kairo said. "And that's finally starting to mean something."
---
They left the ruins behind as the sun climbed fully into the sky.
But the wind carried whispers.
And somewhere, deep beneath the city of towers, a chamber lit with a thousand runes began to flicker.
Inside sat a council of six cloaked figures.
And one of them, voice like ice and smoke, said:
"He's awakened. Begin the watch."