Darkness stretched forever.
Vael floated in it. Weightless, formless. The crown's voice, once sharp and commanding, was now a faint murmur. Like a dream already fading.
But the mark burned.
It clawed at him from the inside. Deeper than bone, deeper than soul. He gritted his teeth, though there was no body here. No ground beneath him. Just cold. Endless cold.
Then a voice cut through the silence.
"You shouldn't have worn it."
Vael twisted—though there was nothing to twist in. The voice echoed from everywhere, nowhere.
"Who are you?" he demanded.
Silence.
Then, shapes began to form.
Shadows rising into tall, twisted figures. Faceless. Still. Yet hunger radiated from them like heat.
Relic-Bound, the voice whispered. Like you.
The crown pulsed faintly. Cold. Distant.
One figure stepped forward.
Its body shining, shifting with the shadows. Hollow ribs curled inward, as if something had eaten it from the inside out.
"You carry the Hollow's curse," it rasped.
Vael's jaw clenched. "And?"
The figure didn't answer. Its chest split open with a crack. Inside, something floated—silver, broken. A heart, but lifeless.
"This is your end," it said.
Then they all moved.
Figures lunged from the dark. Dozens. Hundreds.
Vael reacted on instinct. Shadows exploded from him—blades, claws, spears. They tore through the figures, ripped them apart.
But for every one that fell, another rose.
It was endless.
His strength started to fade. The mark burned brighter, searing up his neck, creeping toward his face.
The crown whispered, "Now! Give in."
Vael growled, fists clenched. "No."
But the shadows coiled around him, dragging him down. Cold hands. Sharp teeth. The dark pressing in from all sides.
The mark flared.
White-hot pain.
Vael screamed.
The darkness cracked.
And shattered.
He gasped awake.
Chest heaving. Body soaked in sweat. His fingers clawed at the ground.
The crown was still there. Heavy on his head.
The mark was still there. Crawling over his chest like fire etched in ink.
But the whispers were quiet now.
The crown… weaker.
He had resisted.
For now.
Vael stood. The road ahead was still. The forest silent. But something in him had changed.
The Hollow had touched him.
And it would return.