Tower Of Silence の小説・ストーリー

A magnificent, tallest tower situated in the heart of Brethren city, the silence at the bottom of the tower was deafening when they reached the MDA tower. Strangely, the buildings around were flooded in darkness and only the light from the voluminous moon illuminate the place. No person or cars can be seen passing by even on the public highway.

"If we get separated, we have no way to find each other. No mental ping. No emotional trail. Just eyes and ears." ​They moved through the streets of the "Emerald City," which was now a desert of ash. Every few blocks, they saw a "Silence Tower"—a black, obsidian-like monolith that hummed with a low, bone-shaking vibration. These towers were the lungs of the Unheard, breathing out the static that kept the Symphony at bay. ​"Kael, look." Elara pointed to a wall. ​Graffiti, painted in a stark, lead-based white, covered the ruins:

The battlefield behind us was a symphony of glorious, chaotic destruction, but as Killian and I approached the Spire of Bone, an unnatural, suffocating silence fell over the immediate area. The spire wasn't built; it was grown. It spiraled upward into the bruised purple nebula, a twisting tower of smooth, fossilized white matter that hummed with a frequency that made my teeth ache. There were no guards stationed at its base. A god doesn't need bouncers.

He pointed to the center of the city. A massive spire pierced the night sky. It was made of black glass and reinforced concrete. The Council Tower. It stood taller than any other building. It was a monument to their ego and their power. "Silas is in the penthouse," Victor said. His voice was calm. "He surrounds himself with clouds because he thinks he is a god." I looked at the glittering city. It looked impenetrable. There were checkpoints on every bridge. There were patrols on the streets.

The building felt quieter than it had in years. Not empty. Not abandoned. Just stripped of the low hum that came from pretending everything was fine. Evelyn noticed it as she walked through Drake Tower that morning. Conversations were softer. Eye contact lasted longer. People no longer hurried past one another with practiced indifference. Silence had broken, and what followed was not chaos. It was uncertainty.

The entire pack hall fell instantly silent. The doors burst open with a bang, and Nolan stormed in, the full weight of the Silverglade Pack’s leadership trailing nervously behind him. The moment he threw me a heartbeat's glance, Janine, who was still holding the knife aloft, was flung violently across the hall by an invisible force. She smashed through three support pillars and landed embedded deep in the far wall. Despite being Silverglade’s top warrior, Aiden had already collapsed into a trembling heap on the floor. Faelan, who was finally free, leapt up and ran to Nolan, sobbing as he threw himself into his father’s arms.

The wind howled a mournful song across the top of the Oni Group tower. It was a desolate, artificial peak, a hundred stories above the silent streets, littered with the machinery of a modern skyscraper: massive air conditioning units, communication arrays, and vents that exhaled the building's warm, processed breath. The full moon was a stark, luminous spotlight, bathing the entire scene in an ethereal, silver-white glow.

Never broke the rules. Never chose myself over anything else. And now, going out like this made me feel free, curving my lips in a soft smile. Stacy noticed it immediately and giggled, clapping her hands once. “Yes! That’s what I like!” The cab finally reached a halt in front of a building, glowing with neon lights. Moonfall Heaven. The name pulsed above the entrance in silver and violet, the letters flickering in rhythm with the bass thumping from inside. Music leaked through the walls, deep, intoxicating, and alive. Laughter spilled into the street along with smoke and the sharp scent of alcohol.

Eight weeks. That's how long it took for silence to start pretending it was peace. The house sat on the edge of nowhere—half-wild grass, a cracked fence, and an ocean that looked too calm to have ever known violence. The city was still rebuilding. Syndicate Tower was under construction again, glass bones rising from the ruins, but we stayed far away. Here, the only noise came from the wind and the slow hum of living.

"He’s trying to suck the foundation out from under us." The Penthouse: The Master’s Hand In the heights of the Zeitz MOCAA, Silas stood in the centre of a hurricane of violet static. He wasn't holding a glass anymore. His arms were outstretched, his fingers twitching as if he were playing a massive, invisible pipe organ. "Beautiful," Silas whispered, his voice projected through the building’s own internal speakers. "She found the mountain. She found the original blueprint. I should have known she wouldn't be able to resist the allure of the granite."