Soulbound
They moved in slow, synchronized patterns, their heads tilted slightly upward as though listening to something only they could hear.
“Lost souls?” one reaper asked, voice trembling.
“No,” Veyra said softly. “Not lost. Bound.”
The figures began to hum. The sound built slowly, harmonizing in layers, until the tunnel vibrated with it.
The Hollow Choir.
Every reaper in the Citadel knew the legend — that the first souls who defied Death were not erased, but bound beneath the Vein, their voices woven into its foundation as a warning. But the legend had always been just that — a myth.
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