The sky wept fire.
Ash drifted like snow as the Hollow Choir's dissonant melody surged again, stronger this time—no longer mournful, but furious. Their broken harmonies twisted into weapons, blades of sound that sliced through air and armor alike.
Rose ducked as a sonic shriek tore past her, leaving a gash in the earth. Behind her, the Bramble Flame flickered, momentarily dimmed.
"They're adapting," she shouted to Mortain, who was already striding toward her with lightning sparking from his hands.
"They were holding back," he said grimly. "That was the warm-up."
"Lovely," Rose growled. "I hate overachievers."
The Emberfen line was thinning. Dozens had fallen to the Choir's corruptive resonance, their minds lost in nightmares only they could see. Rose spotted a young moss witch clawing at her ears, her mouth wide open in a silent scream. A healer pulled her away, but the damage was done.
Rose's jaw clenched. "We need something bigger."
Mortain glanced upward. "Then we bring the storm."
He lifted both arms to the sky, and the heavens split open.
A wall of thunder peeled across the battlefield, rolling through the Choir's ranks like a soundwave of divine retribution. Lightning crashed down in jagged forks, dancing along the ground and searing spectral limbs to ash.
Rose added her fire to the chaos, directing jets of Bramble Flame at the holes Mortain carved. For a heartbeat, the Choir's melody cracked—discordant and unstable.
But then the silence came.
It wasn't natural. It swallowed sound entirely. Even the fire hissed without voice. The Hollow Choir floated forward, their mouths still unmoving, but now their song was within the minds of everyone—whispers that were no longer just sorrowful, but tempting.
Join us.
Peace. Rest. An end to the burning.
Rose staggered, a strange comfort washing over her. The idea of laying down the flame—letting it go, just for a while—seemed so beautiful.
"Rose," Mortain's voice broke through the silence, a storm surge against the lull. "Don't let them in."
She gasped, shaking her head. The Bramble Fire flared, and the illusions shattered. Around her, soldiers were faltering—some collapsing, some walking straight into enemy blades with glassy eyes.
Basil sprinted into view, dragging a sputtering Nimbus by one string. "Bad news! I think I inhaled an emotion! And it's guilt!"
Rose reached out and slammed her hand against the earth.
"I said BURN."
The flame burst outward again, forming a second ring of protection around her allies. Mortain's storm met her blaze in the center, and together they pushed back the psychic lull. The Choir shrieked, their forms unraveling at the edges.
"Whatever that was," Mortain panted, "do it again."
Rose grinned, sweat and soot streaking her face. "With pleasure."
Together, storm and fire surged forward, cutting a bloody, blazing path straight through the heart of the Choir's formation.
And behind them, the army of Emberfen roared with renewed fury.
The tide, at last, had begun to turn.