The Hollow Choir

Story

The Architects were gone. The Saints had finished their weeping, their gold tears drying into the stone. The world reached a point of absolute, terrifying stillness—the “True Silence.” In this void, humanity—the Vessels—realized that no one was coming to sing the morning into existence.

For ages, we had looked to the heavens for a voice. We had looked to the icons for a word. But as the silence became unbearable, a new vibration began to stir. It didn’t start in the throat; it started in the chest, in the hollow space where the “Longing” had lived since the beginning.

It was the final hymn, but it wasn’t sung with breath. It was sung with vibration.

The Vessels themselves began to hum. Like an empty flute or a hollow bell, the very emptiness within us became the chamber for a new frequency. The sound of creation echoes from hollow forms, not mouths. It is the sound of bone striking bone, of wind rushing through a ribcage, of a heart beating against the dark. We discovered that you do not need a voice to sing; you only need to be empty enough to let the universe echo through you.