The world ended in silence, not with fire or flood, but with the sudden disappearance of sound itself. People opened their mouths, but no words came. Birds flapped their wings, but the air carried no whispers. Thunderstorms raged above mute cities, their lightning flashing like silent screams. Musicians wept over lifeless instruments, and lovers held each other in a void where even heartbeats made no sound. The universe had stolen humanity’s voice, and with it, the will to fight, to love, to remember.
Then, one night, a child was born with a cry so loud it shattered the sky. The echoes of her voice cracked open the silence, and in the void, ancient beings stirred—creatures that had slumbered since the first word was spoken. They had silenced the world to prepare for their return, but the child's wail was a defiance they had never foreseen. As they awoke, their forms rippled through the fabric of existence, reshaping reality itself. The question remained: was the child's voice a gift to restore the world or the final note in its requiem?✧
garam
Then, one night, a child was born with a cry so loud it shattered the sky. The echoes of her voice cracked open the silence, and in the void, ancient beings stirred—creatures that had slumbered since the first word was spoken. They had silenced the world to prepare for their return, but the child's wail was a defiance they had never foreseen. As they awoke, their forms rippled through the fabric of existence, reshaping reality itself. The question remained: was the child's voice a gift to restore the world or the final note in its requiem? ✧