The song began so quietly that at first Selena thought she was imagining it—a side effect of throne-absorption, or the blade's corruption seeping into her consciousness, or perhaps just the accumulated weight of violations finally fracturing her mind in ways that manifested as auditory hallucination. But as the sound grew, as it gained definition and purpose, she realized with cold certainty that this was real, external, something happening in the realm rather than in her breaking psyche.
It was the Hollow. Singing.
Not with voice—the Hollow had no voice, was the absence of voice, was the negation of sound given focus and hunger. But it was producing something that resembled music nonetheless, something that carried melody despite having no notes, that possessed rhythm despite existing outside time, that communicated emotion despite originating from a void that should have been incapable of feeling anything except hunger for what it consumed.
The song was mourning.
