Eve of the Dark Gate Opening.

  Location: Mirror Canyon Overwatch Platform.

  Noel jerked upright from his iron chair on the overwatch platform.

  His instincts screamed danger a split second before the sound slammed into the physical world. With a trained reflex, he raised both hands, pressing his palms tightly against his ear canals.

  SREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECHHHH!!!

  A sharp, piercing shriek detonated from the bottom of Mirror Canyon.

  It was not the sound of an animal, nor the sound of a machine. It was the sound of geological destruction.

  It felt as if two colossal continental plates made of rough granite were being forcibly rubbed against each other without lubricant, ground at supersonic speed right next to the eardrum.

  The echo slammed into the cliff walls of Mirror Canyon, then was reflected back with double the force by the Iron Mountains. Those metal mountains acted as giant speakers, amplifying the lethal frequency and vomiting it toward the defense fortress.

  "Arghhh!"

  Noel growled, teeth grinding against the unbearable ache. The fine hairs on his nape, arms, down to his legs stood straight, shivering in horror as if electrocuted by thousands of volts of static. His bones felt like they were vibrating, resonating with the earth's scream.

  He forced his eyes open, looking around the platform.

  The scene was chaotic.

  The guards—tough men accustomed to blizzards and beast attacks—were now rolling on the stone floor.

  They dropped their spears and rifles. Their hands clutched their own steel helmets desperately, trying to squeeze their heads to keep them from shattering. Their bodies convulsed, legs kicking at the air, mouths gaping in silent screams swallowed by the colossal grinding noise.

  Noel knew what they felt.

  Their auditory senses were not hearing noise.

  Their senses were being stabbed by a crowbar.

  There was a physical sensation of a blunt, cold object forced in through the ears, churning the brain, and tearing sanity apart.

  This isn't a normal sound wave... Noel thought, breath hunting behind palms still sealing his ears. This is magical resonance.

  The sound from the abyss possessed an evil metaphysical quality.

  It wasn't a sound heard merely by physical eardrums. The vibration penetrated the skull bone, pierced the flesh, and was heard directly by the soul.

  It was the frequency of pure despair. A hungry scream from something primordial.

  Slowly, Noel began to lower his hands slightly.

  His face was deathly pale, cold sweat soaking his temples. Pain. His head felt ready to explode.

  But he began to acclimate.

  His steel will and the mental training he had undergone for years as a commander allowed him to build a mental wall. He blocked the pain, converting it into combat focus.

  He still stood tall, the only solid pillar on that platform.

  However, not so for his soldiers.

  On the floor, several young soldiers began vomiting stomach bile. Fresh blood started seeping from their noses and ears. They were not strong enough. Their souls were too fragile to hear the song from the depths of this hell.

  Amidst the chaos, the thick steel door behind the platform opened wide.

  Noel turned with difficulty. His eyes caught a sight that made his blood run even colder.

  The Old Ancestor and the core members of House Sanjaya stepped in, filling the overwatch platform.

  They walked casually, as if strolling through a flower garden, not a sonic disaster zone. Their steps were firm, backs straight.

  What made Noel shudder was: They did not cover their ears.

  Their hands hung relaxed at their sides. No grimace of pain on their faces. The scream of grinding hell plates that made ordinary soldiers vomit blood and go mad sounded to them like a melodious lullaby.

  Noel observed their eyes.

  The eyes of the elders did not stare at Mirror Canyon with fear.

  Those eyes... were savage.

  Their pupils constricted vertically, irises radiating a hungry glint. It was the gaze of an apex predator that had just smelled the blood of wounded prey. The scream from the abyss had awakened something sleeping within their DNA.

  "Grrrmmm..."

  One of Noel’s uncles—not Gerald, but an uncle from the hardline faction—turned toward the screaming mirror canyon. His lip lifted, baring unnaturally elongated fangs. He growled low, a sound more animal than human. Drool dripped. His instinct wanted to pounce, tear, and feast upon the weak creature. But he held back, his hand gripping the iron railing until it bent, leaving finger impressions in the solid metal.

  Noel shifted his gaze back to focus on Mirror Canyon, forcing his logical brain to work amidst this madness.

  SITUATION ANALYSIS:

  Ambient Temperature: PLUMMETING DRASTICALLY.

  The thermometer on his watch showed a 15-degree drop in seconds. Frost began to creep up the iron railing. The air around them froze, not due to weather, but because the scream of death absorbed heat as it crawled up from the abyss.

  Noise Level:

  Noel saw the sound meter needle vibrating madly in the red zone.

  Intensity: 145 Decibels. Equivalent to standing next to a fighter jet engine taking off with full afterburner.

  Frequency: A mix of Infrasonic (below 20Hz) damaging internal organs, and Ultrasonic destroying the central nervous system.

  Exposure Duration:

  02 minutes 03 seconds.

  A normal human would suffer permanent brain damage if this continued for another minute.

  Suddenly, the screaming stopped abruptly. Cut.

  The silence that followed was more painful than the sound. Noel’s ears rang violently.

  Riiiiiiing...

  In the midst of that frozen silence, all eyes fixed on one figure.

  If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

  The Old Ancestor.

  The old man in the wheelchair was at the very front. He stared into the darkness of Mirror Canyon with an expressionless face, as if communicating telepathically with whatever was down there.

  Noel held his breath, waiting for what sentence would emerge from that ancient mouth.

  Amidst the sickening ringing silence, the Old Ancestor’s dry lips moved.

  "The Piper has arrived."

  The voice was low, yet possessed the weight of absolute authority. To Noel’s ears, the sentence didn't sound like an observation report or a danger warning.

  It sounded like a command. As if the Old Ancestor had just permitted a guest of honor to enter the banquet hall.

  And the universe obeyed him.

  At the bottom of Mirror Canyon, the mad geological mechanism changed patterns.

  Two giant earth plates that had been bashing and grinding each other brutally now altered their movement. Noel could imagine it—the colossal stones no longer colliding, but pressing against each other and sliding with terrifying smoothness.

  Rough friction turned into precise, slick friction.

  And the sound was born.

  Fwheeeeeeeeeeeeeeee...

  No longer a metal scream tearing eardrums.

  Now, a shrill, clear whistle shot up from the depths of the gorge, piercing the fog, greeting the night sky.

  Fwheee... fweee... fwoooo...

  The pitch was high, yet smooth. Like the sound of wind blowing across a bamboo flute hole, or the sound of a wet finger circling the rim of a giant crystal glass.

  The contrast was so sharp it made Noel nauseous.

  Minutes ago was brutal hell noise.

  Now, a lilting melody.

  The tone rose and fell with a slow, hypnotic tempo. Flowing, winding through the freezing air, as if dancing. Beautiful, yet wrong.

  It was a beauty that shouldn't exist in this place of death. The beauty of sweet poison.

  Noel saw the soldiers who had been vomiting blood now fall silent. They were no longer in pain.

  Their faces turned blank. Their eyes stared straight at the canyon, mesmerized by the deadly whistle. Their bodies began to sway gently, following the rhythm fwheeeeeeeee that ensnared their consciousness.

  "Don't listen..." Noel whispered to himself, biting his tongue until the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth to stay awake.

  That wasn't music... it was a warning.

  "Ignite the Ignis Magna Beacons."

  Graham Sanjaya’s raspy voice sliced the cold air, severing the trance of fear that had gripped the platform. Not loud, but the authority within it made the air around them vibrate.

  Noel turned quickly. He saw the Guard Force Commander—a burly man usually fearless—gaping. His eyes bulged wide, pupils trembling, as if he had just been ordered to detonate his own heart.

  "Your Grace...?" the Commander stammered, voice shaking. "The main beacons?"

  "Do it!" The command was sharp, cutting doubt like a scalpel. No room for negotiation.

  The Commander jerked awake. His military instinct took over. He immediately pressed the comms button on his collar and shouted hoarsely, ignoring formal protocol.

  "Control Post! Activate Ignis Magna Beacons! Priority Alpha! Focus on Main Platform!"

  Noel held his breath. Ignis Magna? The name was buried deep in his childhood memories, a term from piles of old books about Uncle Gerald’s missions that children were never allowed to read.

  A moment later...

  Pshhhh... CLANG!

  The sound of heavy hydraulic mechanisms hissed above their heads. Noel looked up.

  The beams of the military iron towers that had been lazily sweeping the fog now changed movement. No longer a lazy sweep. The movement became aggressive, stiff, and forceful.

  The thick, blinding bluish-white light moved as if possessing its own consciousness. The megawatt beam dove sharply past the open platform window.

  CLANG.

  The beam locked.

  Brutal light of millions of candlepower slammed into the Old Ancestor’s body. Highlighting him in a single pillar of light, stripping away the surrounding darkness.

  Noel squinted, dazzled. The light revealed every wrinkle on his great-grandfather’s ancient face, every fiber in his wool blanket, and the metallic details of his antique wheelchair.

  The Old Ancestor did not flinch. He didn't blink under the blinding spotlight. He only stared back toward the abyss, challenging.

  Then, the beam moved.

  Slowly. Very slowly. Smoothly. As if commanded by an invisible giant hand from the bottom of the gorge.

  The beam shifted from the Ancestor.

  Sweeping slowly past Noel’s body.

  Noel felt the light burn his skin—not the heat of fire, but the heat of exposure. His shadow elongated dramatically on the concrete floor, pitch black and sharp. He felt naked. He felt seen.

  The light continued to move, sweeping over his mother clutching his father’s arm, and sweeping over all the core members of the Sanjaya clan standing frozen on the platform.

  This beam... Noel thought, goosebumps rising in horror. ...as if it's showing us off.

  The light took attendance one by one. Presenting the faces of Sanjaya members as a banquet menu to Something now waiting at the bottom of Mirror Canyon.

  Click. Click. THUNK.

  The sound of heavy switches activated from a distance was heard, followed by the static mumble of the commander’s radio sounding like a death prayer.

  "Ignis Magna Protocol... activated."

  Noel shifted his gaze outside the platform, far below the helipad, toward the ruins of the old temple courtyard encircling the lip of Mirror Canyon like a monster’s tooth necklace.

  FWOOOSH!

  The sound of a suppressed gas explosion split the freezing air.

  Noel’s eyes widened.

  A pillar of dense, thick, oily orange-red fire roared from a gigantic ancient stone furnace.

  That wasn't ordinary gas fire. Noel knew the smell. The aroma crawled up on the wind. The scent of frankincense resin, volcanic sulfur, and holy oil fermented for decades.

  His memory jumped to Uncle Gerald. He remembered his "crazy" uncle busy mixing alchemical powders in the back warehouse months ago. Turns out it was for this.

  The fire exploded ten meters into the night sky, flames dancing wild and hungry, licking the darkness with a primal lust to burn.

  A moment later, across the gorge hundreds of meters away...

  FWOOSH!

  A second fire ignited, answering its brother’s call.

  Then the third on the left. The fourth far at the end of the canyon curve.

  Like a domino chain reaction arranged by the hand of fate, the ancient fire pillars lit up one by one in precise sequence. Noel counted in his head, heart racing in time with the fire explosions.

  Twenty-seven.

  Twenty-seven giant fire points now burned in unison, surrounding the lip of the abyss in a magnificent and terrifying Ring of Fire.

  The view before Noel was now a surreal visual contrast.

  The Ignis Magna fire points burned with a living, organic, savage warmth. Their orange light flickered illuminating the mountain fog, representing an ancient ritual of angry earth energy.

  While above them, the military iron lighthouses still beamed with cold, stiff, sterile xenon bluish-white light. The light of arrogant modern technology.

  And beneath them all... Mirror Canyon remained pitch black.

  Noel stared down. The obsidian wall, with its geological arrogance, rejected both lights. It swallowed the warmth of ritual fire. It swallowed the sterility of floodlights. Both failed equally to penetrate the insatiable darkness of the abyss at the bottom.

  Whoosh...

  Noel, still kneeling on one knee on the concrete floor from the sound effect earlier, felt the thermal shock wave from the 27 fire pillars hit his pale face.

  The heat felt physical, slapping his cheeks like a desert wind in the middle of snow, evaporating the cold sweat on his temples instantly.

  He looked up. His pupils reflected the twenty-seven fires dancing on his corneas, creating the illusion of small hells within his dark irises.

  Humanity's oldest signal... Noel thought. A warning.

  But doubt crept into his heart. He wasn't sure of one thing: was this fire a welcome signal for a guest of honor... or a signal declaring total war?

  The Piper down there sang. And his Ancestor answered with hellfire.

  Noel turned slowly, his neck feeling stiff and creaking. He stared at the silhouette of the Old Ancestor now bathed in dual light: orange from ancient fire and blue from modern spotlights. The old figure in the wheelchair looked like a frail yet terrifying war god.

  Great-Grandfather... Noel thought.

  It wasn't a question. It was a hoarse cry caught in his throat. A hopeless prayer from a great-grandson witnessing a fairytale nightmare become reality.

  In his heart, Noel asked desperately:

  Is this fire strong enough to hold back What is down there?

  And how long can this fire last before it dies?

  Noel stood at the edge of the parapet, forcing his legs straight again. His eyes swept the expanse of the valley now changing face.

  Hours ago, this place was a sea of panic. But now, Noel witnessed a giant organism reorganizing itself. Thousands of soldiers previously scattered now moved with terrifying discipline.

  Sharp command shouts echoed in the air, cutting through the noise of footsteps and engine roars, turning aimless chaos into precise war choreography.

  They retreated.

  Not fleeing, but a tactical withdrawal. Noel watched the uniform wave move away from the lip of Mirror Canyon. They created an empty zone—No Man's Land—hundreds of meters wide between the steep cliff and the human defense line.

  At the limit of safe distance, barricades began to form.

  Sandbags piled up at lightning speed. Portable concrete blocks were unloaded from transport trucks with heavy thuds vibrating the ground. Behind the makeshift defense wall, thousands of assault rifle barrels were readied, all aiming at one point: the canyon darkness. The synchronized click-clack sound of weapons cocking sounded like noisy iron crickets.

  However, what made Noel’s hackles rise was the line behind the infantry.

  Heavy artillery was staked into the earth. Howitzer cannon muzzles tilted up arrogantly, while multi-barrel rocket launchers locked onto coordinates. They were like metal predators holding their breath, waiting for prey to emerge from the hole.

  Then, the light returned with new intensity.

  Along the ridge surrounding the valley, dozens of iron towers loomed like giant skeletons. Diesel engines roared to life, sending power to massive floodlights at the peaks.

  CLICK. VROOOOM.

  One by one, the floodlights shone even brighter. Blinding white beams split the night, so bright that dust floating in the air was clearly visible.

  With a constant mechanical rotation rhythm, dozens of light beams swept the valley, then fell focused toward Mirror Canyon.

  The light didn't just illuminate; it stripped naked.

  Thin fog usually shrouding the canyon lip was forcibly driven away by brutal photon intensity. The beams pierced into the darkness of the giant hole, trying to dismantle whatever secrets hid in its depths. Mirror Canyon, usually mysterious and grand, now looked exposed, besieged by human technology wanting to turn night into stinging day.

  Noel squinted, dazzled by the light reflection bathing the valley. In his ears, the cacophony of war preparation sounded like the ticking of a doomsday clock counting down.

  Tick... Tock... Tick... Tock...