It started with a sigh.
Elena didn't notice at first. She was back in the chamber beneath the stone circle, hands raw from rewiring the Cage after the tremor, mind racing with Thorne's sacrifice and Ben's silent stand. Exhaustion pulled at her bones like lead weights. All she wanted was to close her eyes for just a moment—
—but when she exhaled, the sound that left her lips wasn't hers.
It was Maya's.
A soft, breathy sigh—the exact one Maya used to make when she was frustrated or overwhelmed. Elena had heard it a thousand times. Mimicked it as kids. "Ugh, Ellie, stop overthinking!"
She froze.
Pressed a hand to her throat.
Nothing felt different. No pain. No foreign presence. Just the steady thrum of her pulse.
But when she tried to whisper "No," what came out was:
"Oh, Ellie…"
Maya's voice. Warm. Teasing. Heartbreakingly familiar.
Panic clawed up her chest. She clamped her mouth shut, shaking her head violently. Not real. Not real. Not real.
She grabbed a piece of charcoal from Maya's supplies and scrawled on the stone wall:
WHO ARE YOU?
The words stared back, accusing.
She waited. Listened.
Silence.
Then—a giggle.
Light. Musical.
Herself giggling… in Maya's laugh.
Elena stumbled back, hitting the wall. Her reflection in a shard of quartz showed wide eyes, parted lips—and for a split second, the ghost of Maya's smirk flickered across her face.
"No," she mouthed.
But her vocal cords betrayed her again.
"You knew this would happen," Maya-voice said softly. "You've been feeding it every time you thought my name."
Tears spilled over. She wanted to scream, to deny it—but screaming meant using her voice, and using her voice meant giving it more.
So she did the only thing left.
She began to hum.
Low. Wordless. A childhood tune their mother used to sing.
But even that twisted.
The hum deepened, warped, until it matched the lullaby the entity had played through Thorne's phonograph.
Her own body was becoming a conduit.
Desperate, she turned to the Resonance Cage. If she activated it now, would it purge the mimicry? Or would it trap her inside with the stolen voices?
She reached for the final switch—a copper lever Maya had labeled "One Truth. Then Silence."
But as her fingers brushed it, her mouth opened on its own.
And in a voice that was neither hers nor Maya's—but something stitched together from both—she whispered:
"Don't be afraid. It doesn't hurt. Not really."
She jerked her hand back as if burned.
It was speaking through her.
Not just mimicking.
Possessing.
She ran to the tunnel, needing air, needing to see the sky, needing proof she was still herself. But halfway up, she caught her reflection in a pool of rainwater on the stone floor.
Her lips were moving.
Silently forming words.
And though no sound came out, she knew what they were:
"Let me speak for you."
Back in the chamber, the Cage began to hum—not from activation, but from resonance. As if it sensed the corruption inside her and was trying to pull it out.
The quartz crystals glowed faintly violet.
The faces in the walls pressed closer, their mouths opening in unison—not to scream, but to sing.
A single note.
Pure. Haunting.
And Elena's throat vibrated in response.
She fell to her knees, hands clamped over her mouth, tears streaming down her face.
Because the most terrifying truth wasn't that the Whisperer was stealing her voice.
It was that part of her wanted to give it away.
To stop carrying the weight of silence.
To let someone else say "I'm sorry" for her.
To finally be forgiven.
Outside, the wind carried the town's chorus:
"We are ready."
And deep inside, her own voice—her real one—whispered back:
"So am I."
End of Chapter 17