Before you read:
This chapter began with a celebration. Soft laughter, awkward compliments, fancy clothes, and a party themed around survival. But beneath it all, something older was already stirring.
I wanted this one to feel like a breath you didn't realize you were holding. Like a smile at someone you love, moments before the sky blinks.
Because in Max's world, peace never stays unchallenged. And sometimes, what wakes isn't evil, it's forgotten. Unforgiven. Watching.
Enjoy the party. But keep one eye on the ground.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Time is hollow here.
A breathless stretch of silence. A womb of absence.
Suspended in the in-between, I drift, weightless, aware, lingering.
Then...
A flicker.
The first ripple of waking breaks across the stillness.
A shallow inhale stumbles through my chest.
My bottom lip trembles.
Fingertips stir against unfamiliar sheets.
And then...
My eyes snap open.
Darkness enfolds me. Soft. Heavy. Almost holy.
The air feels thick with a silence that's watching.
Shadows pool around the room, but I see them.
Eric, curled at my right side, his arm draped over me like a silent vow clinging to the space between almost-lost and still-here.
Alec is slouched near the corner, chin tucked to chest, elbow sunk deep into the edge of the table.
They stayed.
They didn't leave me.
But then...
I see him.
A figure by the window.
Outlined in starlight, unmoving, silent, but unmistakably there.
He's awake.
Watching me.
And somehow, that stirs something in my soul.
Knowing that while the world sleeps, someone is waiting for me to wake.
Watching to ensure I stay safe and protected, even if it means putting their own interests at risk.
The fire in my chest stirs.
And when our eyes meet, the shadows break just enough for them to glint liquid silver, steady, and unblinking.
He smiles.
Not just any smile.
A knowing one..
A silent acknowledgment of what passed between us, of what he gave, of what I took.
I do not look away.
Neither does he.
Time stretches, bends, and collapses.
Then, he moves.
A shift in shadow, a quiet step forward, and it's enough.
Eric stirs first, blinking blearily before scrubbing a hand down his face.
"Hey..." he mumbles, voice rough with sleep, wiping the drool off his chin. "You're awake."
Alec jerks upright, eyes sharp with instant awareness. He leans in, hand reaching, testing, prodding.
First, a palm to my forehead.
Then, a cheek squeeze.
I swat him away with a scowl. "Yeah, awake, well, and hungry."
The room erupts with laughter.
Relief spills into the sound. Pure and unfiltered.
The tension that had suffocated the air moments ago vanishes.
Then, the floodgates open.
The others pour into the room, voices overlapping, energy pressing in, filling the space with life.
And then enters Lady Elsa.
She steps forward, regal as ever, yet soft in her approach.
Motherly.
A hand smooths my hair back, her touch gentle, lingering.
"You had us all worried, Max." Her voice is warm, but beneath it, I hear the unspoken weight of her concern.
"I'm just so thankful you're unharmed. How are you feeling?"
I look up at her, offering a small, mischievous smile. "Happy that I've eaten. All I could think about was how hungry this lame body is."
Laughter ripples again, but a sharp tsk cuts through it.
"Your body is not lame, missy."
Samantha kneels beside me, her eyes bright, affectionate.
"Just exhausted. I'll pour some energy into you for good measure. Okay?"
I nod.
And as the others hover close, their presence a warm shield around me.
I let her do her thing.
No resistance. No pride. Just the quiet surrender of someone who's held too much for too long.
Samantha's hands tremble slightly as they press against mine. Not from fear, but from the weight of what she offers. A soft hum builds between us, low at first, like the murmur of wind before a storm. Then it blooms.
Warmth spills into my limbs, radiating through my chest like golden sunlight seeping into frozen earth. Her energy is different from mine. It's gentler, more fluid, threaded with kindness and resolve. It doesn't burn; it restores.
My bones ache less. My mind clears. My soul... stops shaking.
When she steps back, I feel it, the stillness after rain.
A breath escapes me, steady and whole. My spine straightens.
Then I look up, strength surging back into my voice.
"Out," I say, firm but not unkind. I sweep a hand toward the door. "All of you. I need alone time."
Eric makes a dramatic gesture like he's been mortally wounded. "Alone time? What about our bonding?"
"Out!"
With exaggerated groans, they shuffle away, leaving me blessedly alone. I shake off the lingering exhaustion and decide on a long, hot bath. A proper one. The kind that makes you feel like a new person by the time you step out.
By the time I make my way downstairs, the room is already filled with a quiet buzz of conversation. The second they notice me, however, all eyes land on me expectantly.
Right. The threatening call. The Sepulcher of Echoes. The mission.
I stretch my arms overhead, spine popping, then drop into the nearest chair. "Alright. When do we leave?"
I glance at Seth across the room. Arms folded, back against the wall, silent.
He exhales slowly, like he hadn't expected the question to come from me.
Then he lifts a brow, the corner of his mouth tugging into that faint, familiar smile. The one he saves just for me.
"You're asking me?"
"You should know more about the timing," I say, shrugging. "I can only decide who's coming with."
We lock eyes. Then, at the same time, we both point at each other.
"You go first."
A pause. A blink. Then a sigh. "Fine." I gesture toward the group. "We need power and muscle, so obviously, Eric, Alec, and Bruce. And we need amplifiers. I can only think of one other person besides me..."
My gaze slides to Jamey.
Lady Elsa, seated elegantly beside me, lifts a perfectly arched brow before shifting her attention to Jamey. "Jamey is an amplifier?"
Jamey, grinning like a child who's just been given permission to cause chaos, leans forward, elbows on his knees. "Ooooh, I am not just an amplifier," he says, stretching the words out like he's telling a ghost story. "I'm a conduit."
I already regret bringing this up.
Jamey lifts both arms dramatically, grinning like an idiot. "I don't just enhance energy. I channel it. Redirect it. Reshape it."
The room stares.
Alec tilts his head. "So... basically an amplifier with extra steps?"
Jamey claps his hands together, undeterred. "No, my friend. My power is Primordial Conduction." His voice booms unnecessarily loud at the last part, making Seth pinch the bridge of his nose in silent suffering.
Eric leans back in his chair, deadpan. "Fancy name. Does it come with a cape?"
Jamey places a hand over his chest and drops his head, feigning offense. "Only if the budget allows."
I resist the urge to rub my temples. "Alright, show-off, sit down. We have an actual mission to plan."
Jamey throws me finger guns before dramatically flopping back into his seat.
At least he wasn't wrong about his power. And we were going to need it.
Silence stretches across the room, tension thickening as everyone mulls over the problem. The enemy is watching. Waiting. And we can't afford to tip them off before we even get close to the Sepulcher of Echoes.
I rack my brain, but I come up blank. My gaze drifts toward Seth and Eric, who are both staring out the window, unreadable expressions on their faces.
Samuel, arms crossed, finally speaks. "A frontal escape is too obvious. Even if we try to slip out under cover of darkness, it's a risk. They'll notice the missing energy signatures. We need more than just stealth. We need misdirection."
Jamey perks up like a kid about to cause trouble. "Oh, that's where I come in." He rubs his hands together, grinning. "I can leave behind energy echoes, fake energy versions of you guys. Something potent enough to fool trackers into thinking you're still here."
Seth nods, turning from the window. "That's a start, but it's not enough. Some of them will be watching with physical eyes. We need to distort their perception, too." His gaze flickers to me.
I sigh, already knowing where this is going. "Fine. I'll carve concealment sigils. They won't turn us invisible, but they'll fracture the enemy's perception, blur the line between what's here and what's leaving. When our bodies move, their eyes won't register it clearly. It'll feel like we never left at all."
Eric tilts his head. "You say 'clearly', but what if they can spot us?"
Samuel steps forward, cracking his knuckles. "I can shroud us in shadows and bend them so we disappear into the night." His lips twitch upward. "Assuming none of you are afraid of the dark."
Bruce chuckles. "I'll hold your hand if you get scared, Jamey."
Jamey scoffs. "Please. My power is Primordial Conduction, remember. I can amplify everyone's abilities, meaning our shadows will stretch further, and our illusions will feel more real. With me, Samuel's trick will last longer and cover more ground."
Lady Elsa, quiet until now, clasps her hands. "If you need a distraction, I can stage something, perhaps a formal gathering, a ceremony... something significant enough to keep their attention here."
Seth considers this, then nods. "That would work. If we stagger our departure, it'll be harder to track. We move in pairs, with Samuel cloaking each group as they leave. Jamey will leave energy echoes behind to make it seem like we're still here. Max will suppress our spiritual traces. I'll ensure any potential spies see what they expect to see."
Eric smirks. "And what's that?"
Seth shrugs. "Nothing. Just another peaceful night."
Despite the stakes, the room hums with determination. We have a plan. Now we just have to make it work.
But as the others begin to move, as the laughter fades and footsteps echo toward preparation ... a sudden chill runs down my spine.
Not fear.
A warning.
I glance toward the window, and for the briefest second, I swear the sky blinks, just once, like the eye of something ancient opening far above.
Seth catches the motion, and I suppose he senses my unease. Without a word, he steps closer, his hand brushing mine, subtle but deliberate. Then, as he moves past me, he hooks his pinky around my forefinger and gives the faintest squeeze.
No eye contact. No grand gesture. Just a quiet promise: he's here, and he has my back.
"We're being watched," he murmurs. "Not by them." His voice lowers, almost reverent. "By something older. It sees us now."
The sky doesn't blink again.
But the feeling lingers, like being studied by something far beyond our understanding.
We don't speak of it further. We don't need to.
Seth's grip had tightened just long enough to anchor me, and with that one sacred touch, I know:
We are not walking into the unknown.
We are being summoned to it.
Lady Elsa worked actual wonders with the party setup. She'd transformed the backyard into something that rivaled an A-list gala with arched canopies laced with string lights, floral arrangements that glowed faintly under the moonlight, and soft incense in the air that made the stars feel a little closer.
The theme? Victory.
Victory over death. Over possession. Over surrender.
And, let's be honest, victory over me not combusting in front of everyone during my last spiritual outburst.
While she prepared champagne tables and prayer circles, we packed.
Efficiently, secretly, and with just enough holy mischief to pull off our real mission.
The Sepulcher was calling. And none of us were under any illusion that it'd be a gentle stroll through the snow.
Half-dressed and half-awake, I realized something between slipping on earrings and folding a sigil-laced travel cloak, we'd need extra power. Backup. A battery that doesn't burn out when things go sideways.
That's when I spotted Samuel across the room, dressed to kill in a midnight-blue suit and some kind of ancestral cufflinks that practically hummed with righteousness.
I pulled him aside.
He turned mid-spin, gave me the stink eye, and hissed, "Max, watch the suit."
I didn't. I grabbed his sleeve and dragged him toward the corner of the lounge like a mob boss making a quiet deal.
"Forget the suit," I said low. "It won't crumble like you will if you don't follow me."
He blinked at me. "...Okay, dramatic."
I leaned in. "You're coming with us."
He straightened, startled. "What, now?"
Eyes darting left, then right. "Why?"
I stomped a heel on the hardwood. "Because we need power, Sam. Yours. In case we burn out."
A soundless 'oh' escaped his lips. He nodded. "I'll get right on it."
Before I could respond, the rest of the guys entered the room like a slow-motion entrance scene in a spiritual action movie.
Eric got to me first. He swept me into his arms and twirled me, dramatic, a little possessive.
"You look gorgeous in that black and red dress," he said, spinning me once more.
Jamey whistled. "Not showing too much cleavage, are we?"
Alec gave me a thumbs up and a crooked grin, his silver lightning dancing faintly at his fingertips like it was trying to impress me, too.
We all looked dressed to rival royalty. The energy was light, for now.
Then I saw him.
Not just the suit, although it was a perfectly tailored dark gray that made his eyes look like starlight through smoke.
Not just the posture which was calm, still, like a mountain that's never once needed to raise its voice.
It was his aura.
It hit me in the gut, twisted something I thought I'd locked down.
Seth.
Eric noticed. Of course he did.
He set me down a little too fast, the tension sharp in his jaw.
Oh, crap. I'd done it again. And he wasn't going to let it slide.
But there was no time for damage control.
Lady Elsa swept into the room in her silver robes like a prophecy incarnate.
"It's time," she said, her voice silencing us like bells before a storm.
"Before we head out back... I want you to know my prayers follow you into your next journey. For those who remain, I want constant updates. No going dark."
We stepped out to a waiting sea of allies. The garden pulsed with presence.
Leaders from every major sect. The Judicars with their top members. The Oathbearers. The Sentinels of the Divine.
Even Elizabeth and Thania stood at the edge of the light, watching.
Lady Elsa linked arms with me and guided me toward a circle of high leaders gathered beneath the prayer dome.
Eric, Alec, and of course Seth, shadowed us like a silent guard.
She touched the elbow of an elderly, striking man with soft eyes that held too many centuries.
"Hi Jeremy."
He turned with a smile that carried thunder in restraint.
"Lady Elsa." His gaze turned to me.
"And this... must be the Living Scripture."
A few quiet gasps echoed.
My eyes scanned the crowd. Even now, it was strange to see awe pointed in my direction like I'd summoned it.
Jeremy turned to greet the others. Eric, Alec... and when his eyes landed on Seth, something unspoken passed between them.
A moment. A weight.
I didn't like it.
"Hi," I said quickly, stealing his attention back. "Yeah... the one and only."
He chuckled, putting me at ease. "I've waited a long time to meet you, Max. You're not easy to find."
"Good," I muttered. "I was hoping that would catch on."
Lady Elsa smiled. "Jeremy leads the Sentinels of the Divine."
Before I could offer a witty remark, a mountain of a man shouldered his way in. Loud, tall, not subtle.
"I'm James," he barked. "Leader of the Judicars."
I shook his hand, firm but brief. He looked like the kind of man who wrestled angels for sport.
The conversations stretched. The politics ebbed and flowed. I survived it mostly intact.
Until Thania crept up beside me and smirked.
"You're famous now. How's that feel?"
I scoffed. "Unwanted."
She giggled. "Keep your eyes open, Max. This life? It doesn't get easier."
Then she skidded off like she hadn't just dropped a bomb.
I exhale.
For a heartbeat, everything is still.
Then... it shifts.
It's not the ground that trembles, but something deeper. Like the air flinching.
The wind dies. The warmth drains. Every soul gifted with even a flicker of spiritual discernment freezes.
A breathless silence falls. Dense, heavy, sentient.
The sigils I burned into the earth days ago stir underfoot, glowing faintly, as if bracing.
Then...
A pulse.
Soundless.
Agonizing.
Old.
The trees bow. A lantern topples. The scent of flowers sours to iron. My skin rises in gooseflesh.
It isn't an attack. It's an awakening.
Something beneath us... just remembered it exists.
Seth is at my side in seconds. Alec, Eric, Jamey, Samantha, and Samuel follow, instinctively forming a circle around me. No orders given, just divine muscle memory.
As if I'm not just the center of the team, but the one holy thing left holding the line.
Lady Elsa cuts through the crowd like a blade of light.
Her eyes are wide, not with fear, but fury.
"They've done it," she says. "The ones watching. They've cracked the seal beneath this land."
Eric's head snaps toward the far fence. "There's no gate there anymore."
Alec's voice is low. "There never was."
Samuel's voice is barely a whisper. "Something's crawling out."
I stare at the ground beneath my feet and feel it, like guilt rising through the soil.
It's not a spirit. Not a curse. Not a demon.
It's... sorrow.
Familiar.
"Do you feel that?" I ask Seth, not looking at him.
He doesn't speak at first. Then: "Yes. I know their grief. I felt it once, before memory had a name."
The Sable Choir.
Forgotten angels. Not fallen, but silenced.
Bound in guilt. Repentant. Unforgiven.
Now... awakened.
Lady Elsa turns to me sharply. "Max, you need to go. Now. Before this breach deepens."
She grabs my arm, starts tugging. "You and Seth. Move. The rest will follow."
But I plant my feet.
"No."
I turn to her, voice steady. "Tell Eric, Alec, Jamey, and the rest to go now. Seth and I will follow."
She starts to object, but I raise a hand to silence her.
"Oh, and just so you're not surprised, Samuel's coming with us."
Lady Elsa blinks at him. "What?"
Samuel shrugs from the shadows, fixing his cufflinks. "I was volunteered."
I smirk. "He agreed."
"Under spiritual duress," he mutters.
Seth gives a low chuckle. "You'll survive."
We don't have time to explain the rest but Lady Elsa reads it in our eyes, understands it without words.
She cups my face with both hands.
"My prayers are on your back, Max," she says softly. "And Heaven watches between your steps."
She pulls away, turns, and lifts her staff then slams it into the ground.
The sigils carved into the yard flare gold. Rings of energy ripple outward, forming a shifting barrier of light and dust and spirit.
The wind howls, and just as quickly, is swallowed by silence.
"You who once rose with the stars," she calls out, "return now to your silence. You are not yet forgiven but you are not lost. Sleep again... until He wakes you."
The air shudders.
The pressure lifts.
But the earth still feels bruised beneath us. Like it's holding its breath.
Seth's silver breath begins to curl from his body, trailing around me like mist.
I trace a Scripture over it, layering a sigil only he and I understand.
We don't disappear.
We just step out of sight.
Not unseen, but unread and folded into a space where no presence registers.
We don't run.
We withdraw like a storm being patient.
As the others move toward the fence line, slipping away in the confusion, Seth and I move with them but apart.
Separate from sight.
Bound to purpose.
Behind us, Lady Elsa watches the garden pulse once more. She lowers her staff, and the light dies down.
"They're gone," she whispers, and I can almost sense her relief.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
After all that sparkle and storm, I hope you're breathing again.
The Sable Choir isn't your usual villain. They're part of a deeper spiritual war Max and Seth were born into. It's something older than Earth, older than memory. Not evil, but estranged. Not destroyers, but reminders.
Their release changes the game.
Also, did you catch the shift in Max and Seth's connection? Soft, secret, sacred. That pinky touch? That's their vow in silence.
Let me know your thoughts below.
Chapter 19 takes us into the snow... and the Sepulcher. And yes, things get colder in more ways than one.