Fear clenched Shun's chest. Madness ran through his mind, jagged and hot. It was happening again. His thoughts were not whole, and what remained felt cracked and thin.
Haunted.
A small grey screen flickered before him, its letters glowing red.
Haunted.
The word pulsed like a heartbeat. This had to be the source of his terror. He never felt fear of this scale, but now it filled him, drowning out everything else.
A writhing mass of shadow that seemed to drink in the light. Xin had believed the Regalia's radiance held it at bay, but now he saw the truth. The glow only staggered it, like a torch thrust into a beast's face. It didn't retreat. It didn't flinch. It shifted its weight, coiling tighter around the dragonborne with blind, ravenous hunger.
Shun twisted, his movements jagged and desperate. He swung his silver Jian, the blade catching faint gleams from the dome's faint light. The weapon sliced through the creature's form, but the black flesh parted and reformed without a sound, swallowing the strike. Shun's face contorted, his teeth bared as he drove the jian again, point-blank, into the mass. The blade sank deep, only to be consumed, vanishing into the creature's body like a stone dropped into a lake.
Xin fired his bow. His arrows flew with lethal precision, each one guided by years of instinct and relentless training. They struck the creature's form, sinking into its surface like needles into ash. No spark. No blood. No sign of damage. The black shape shuddered once, then closed over the arrow shafts, tightening its grip on Shun. The dragonborne's breath hitched, his struggles growing weaker.
Xin lowered his bow. His fingers trembled on the string, not from fear but from the weight of the hollow's presence. It pressed against his skin, a thick static charge that crawled up his arms and into his jaw, setting his teeth on edge. He forced himself to breathe, to think. The creature's grip on Shun was strange. Not just predatory. It was Protective. Possessive. It held the dragonborne in a way Xin had never seen, as if claiming him.
He hesitated. Stepping closer meant entering the creature's reach. One wrong move, and he'd be trapped in that same crushing embrace. The outcome loomed in his mind, sharp as a blade's edge. Shun was already slipping, his life hanging by a thread. Xin had seen his brother skirt death before, but this time he was here to witness it. This time, he might stop it. Might.
His throat tightened. Could he?
The name surfaced in his mind like a curse: Omega Hollow. Its wasn't a Prime. Not even a High Prime. This was a monster beyond classification. Balancers that traveled with shun spoke of them in quieted tones, late at night, their voices heavy with dread. Stories of battles where no one returned. Of shadows that devoured entire squads some even could talk.
But monsters could not talk, unless they were chimeras but these hollows weren't.
On average, three or four Balancers could fell a single Prime. An Omega was different. No statistics existed for them. No clean numbers. Only silence and nightmares.
How many would it take to stop this one? Ten? Twenty? A hundred?
Xin resisted the Refractor's pressure through sheer will. The invisible force bore down on his lungs, his spine, like a mountain pressing him into the earth. He had trained for this since the Fake oasis, but training only carried him so far. Anyone else would already be broken, their ether systems ruptured, their minds shattered. But the chaos inside of him was also helping, so he wasn't entirely helpless.
This wasn't a fight. It was a slaughter waiting to unfold.
He calculated, his mind racing with the cold lucidity that had saved him in countless battles. To kill this thing would cost nearly every Balancer on the Summit. Every fighter worth their mark. He wouldn't sacrifice them. He wouldn't write their deaths in blood.
Blood. Always blood.
The Dharma Wheel blazed above, casting slats of gold across the domes goldens walls. It hissed like molten metal plunged into water. Xin's ether reserves dwindled, burning faster than he could sustain. Even his vast reserves wouldn't last. Three minutes, maybe less, before they emptied and his body locked under the strain.
He had to hold the dome.
The thought gnawed at him. Not enough ether. Not enough time.
This was too much.
Think.
Damn it. Think.
His pulse pounded against his skull. His mind darted from one solution to the next, discarding each in turn. Crude weapons, traps, explosives, burning, pressure mines. None of it would work. Nothing they had could pierce this thing's hide.
If it even had one to begin with.
Everyone else was locked in their own battles. Xin's gaze flicked across the cavern, catching glimpses of movement in the chaos. Lira's whip cracked like thunder, snapping through the shadows. Raven moved in silent arcs, his auntless flashing. Toren was a blur of blades and blood, tearing into something unseen. Joren roared, his weapon broken but ramming against an invisible foe.
No one could help. No one else was strong enough, skilled enough, to face an Omega. Anyone else would be fodder, dragged down in seconds.
He thought of the best fighters he knew. Shun. Toren. Cassidy. Dax. Names that rang like steel in his mind. Each one fierce, unyielding. But none carried the kind of death on their blade that this moment demanded. None except one.
Belial.
The name sliced through the noise like a knife. Belial would have known what to do. Belial made everything look simple.
Well...everything violent that is.
At times like this, Xin wished he were here.
He gritted his teeth. Belial was gone. He had only himself. It has been over a year and he was still thinking of a Deadman...how pitiful.
How stupid indeed
The Hollow pulsed, its form swelling and collapsing like a living lung. Shun screamed, the sound muffled by the black mass encasing his chest. The Dharma Wheel trembled as Xin poured more ether into it, its edges warping like glass under flame.
His heart raced. He tasted copper on his tongue, blood flowed from his nose.
If the dome failed, they'd all be exposed. The mirror monsters would crush them before the Hollow even moved.
Three minutes. Less now.
Xin drew an arrow but held it. The shaft quivered in his grip. He saw the fight laid out before him, a game already lost.
He thought of Belial again. The way the man moved through combat. Cold precision. A faint smile after.
If Belial were here, they he would've had an easier time thinking of a plan.
Xin's vision blurred. Sweat stung his eyes. He clenched his jaw, forcing his thoughts into order.
No useful weapon. No smart plan. No more time.
He scanned the area again, searching for an impossible answer.
Everyone fought their own battles. Lira's blades slashed in the distance. Raven's fists carved silent paths. Toren's blades raked through shadows. Joren's weapon boomed.
No one was coming, no one knew what was even happening to their leader...
His ether dipped lower. Pain flared in his side, his body screaming at him to stop.
He ignored it.
Think.
Think.
Shun's silver jian clattered to the ground, the blade swallowed by the black mass. The creature shifted, pulling the dragonborne deeper.
Something snapped in Xin, a thin thread of restraint breaking.
He dropped his arrow.
In that moment, before another thought could form, a silver light erupted toward the monster. A calm sensation flooded the area, washing over the chaos.
The silver light enveloped the world.