The Hollow Saints' Spire

The Spire Hollow Saints, which was supposed to be the tallest building in Vevryxa'Varn, is now frozen, skeleton, half-finished, and humming softly with incomplete divine code.

A group of esteemed architects from the Church of the Reverent Silence, a sect devoted to documenting the final words of dying gods, commissioned it. Phrases like "a sanctuary for what should never be spoken" and "a monument to forgetting" only alluded to the spire's intended use; it was never explicitly stated.

When a heavenly rift appeared at floor 117, construction came to an abrupt halt.

Employees started to disappear.

A few leaped.

Others were seen kneeling still, their features twisted in either dread or devotion.

Overnight, a shimmering symbol in a language no one claimed to know appeared on the incomplete peak. Days later, those who attempted to interpret it swore and muttered about "the mouth of the sky" and "the saints that aren't dead yet."

The money was taken out. The Church broke up. Whole blueprints were removed from the file.

The Spire of Hollow Saints is unaltered now. In midair, drones that attempt to inspect it lose power. Visitors are advised not to enter.

However, there are still reports of singing coming from the 117th floor at night. A chorus of voices. The voice is the same. They are all muttering the name of a god that nobody can recall worshiping. Or ever hearing about before.

However, the Spire of Hollow Saints has grown to be one of the most visited wonders in the world, either in spite of or perhaps because of the warnings.

Visitors congregate at its base to take photos of the enormous, rune-stained scaffolding that juts out like veins across the sky and the rust-glinting framework. Children challenge one another to cross the ancient salt-marked boundary line, while vendors offer imitation charms "to warm off the singing." Nobody ever takes the challenges of going inside.

Pilgrims also arrive, drawn by something other than excitement. Some claim that in their nightmares, the spire called to them. Some claim that they can hear the hum of the choir in their veins. Some people think that climbing it will provide answers or absolution. Some have even made an attempt.

Today, the 117th floor is notorious. Nobody has ever reached that height. Not one. Before turning around, one woman claimed to have seen her unborn son waiting on the steps, his mouth sewn shut with gold thread. She had made it to the 89th floor.

Around the Spire, some cults have developed. Others argue that it should be destroyed because it poses a threat and is a wound in the world. Demolition workers, however, refuse to touch it. Whenever an attempt is intended, it always fails. Illness. Deaths, storms. Sabotage.

There was more to The Spire of Hollow Saints.

But in a way, it's finished.

And people continue to visit. To gaze. To offer up prayers.

And to listen.