A thick fog settled over the graveyard behind the Temple of the Seven Mourners.
The old stones stood crooked and aged, their inscriptions worn down by time, and the air was far too silent—like sound itself had been forbidden from entering this place. Even the crickets had respectfully kept their voices down.
Kairo tightened his grip on the talisman Samhael had shoved into his hand before disappearing into the shadows with an "I'll be nearby… or maybe napping."
Very reassuring.
He stepped closer to a cracked tombstone bearing no name, only an etching of a weeping eye. A symbol he had seen in his dreams lately. The dreams had grown clearer since the sixth seal broke—voices layered in whispers, always chanting the same phrase:
"He who speaks, shapes the world."
And then laughter.
Not the comforting kind—more the 'possessed librarian laughing at your overdue soul' kind.
Kairo kneeled and pressed his palm against the tombstone.
Nothing happened.
"…Maybe I need to insult it?" he mumbled.
The wind stirred. Leaves rustled.
"Oh, sorry," he said quickly. "Didn't mean to offend your mossy dignity."
Still nothing.
Just when he stood to give up and question his life decisions, a hand shot up from the soil.
Kairo yelped and stumbled back, landing flat on his back.
The hand, skeletal and adorned with ancient silver rings, beckoned.
"…Of course," he muttered. "Why knock when you can dramatically claw out of the ground like a budget horror movie."
A spectral figure rose—translucent, draped in mourning robes, and hovering inches above the soil.
"You carry the Echo Seal," the ghost intoned in a voice like wind through broken flutes.
Kairo blinked. "Do all spirits get voice modulator perks?"
The ghost looked… confused.
"I am the Wailer of the First Hour. Guardian of Echoes, Keeper of—"
"Yeah, yeah," Kairo interrupted. "Can we skip the titles? I have trauma quota to meet today."
The ghost, slightly offended but professional, nodded.
"Very well. You've broken the sixth seal. You're now audible."
"…What does that mean?"
"Your voice no longer just reaches the world," the ghost said, circling him. "It now moves it."
Kairo felt his spine stiffen.
"I can... command things?"
"To a degree," the ghost said, frowning. "For now, only truths tied to your soul. Words spoken with conviction and purpose. Try yelling 'Money' and a bank won't explode. Try declaring your resolve? That might just break a mountain."
Kairo's eyes sparkled. "So… you're saying I can win arguments by being right louder?"
"…That is a dangerous interpretation," the ghost muttered.
Before Kairo could push further, he sensed another presence nearby. Something colder than the ghost.
The air shimmered.
Samhael emerged from behind a tree, casually biting into an apple. "Took you long enough."
"Why are you always eating?" Kairo asked.
"Stress," she replied. "Watching you flirt with spirits stresses me."
"I wasn't flirting!"
The ghost looked mildly pleased. "He was being quite attentive—"
"Don't encourage him!" Samhael snapped.
The ghost chuckled.
"I've done my part," it said, turning transparent. "Your next trial lies beneath the Sanctum of Hollow Songs. But beware—the one who listens has awoken."
As the figure faded, Kairo rubbed his temples. "Why is every prophecy vague and spooky? Just once, I want a spirit to go, 'Hey, walk down that path, there's a guy named Steve, punch him, and you're good.'"
"You'd mess that up too," Samhael said.
"Probably."
—
Later that Evening – In a Tavern Called 'The Crooked Mug'
"You're sure this is a safe place to hide?" Kairo asked, glancing around the dimly lit tavern.
"It's a tavern. Either we blend in or get poisoned. Fifty-fifty odds," Samhael replied.
A man across the room was singing a lullaby to his mug. Another was arm-wrestling his own reflection.
Kairo exhaled. "Comforting."
The innkeeper, a squat lady with arms like stone columns, slammed a stew in front of him. "On the house, child. Heard you're the one who made the cemetery whisper again."
He froze.
Samhael elbowed him. "Smile and nod. No hero poses."
Kairo nodded awkwardly. "Thanks… ma'am."
"Eat up. Might be your last warm meal if you're poking around Hollow Songs."
He opened his mouth to ask—but the innkeeper had vanished into the back.
"Is everyone in this world trained in ominous exits?" Kairo asked.
"I think it's part of the national curriculum," Samhael replied, finally smiling.
—
Elsewhere – Deep Within the Sanctum of Hollow Songs
In a circular chamber filled with faint humming, a woman stirred from slumber. Her hair floated as if underwater, her eyelids marked with runes.
She opened her eyes.
"He speaks now," she said softly.
All across the walls, mouths opened and whispered:
"He speaks… and the world listens."