All the way to the bottom of the Abyss, it was entirely paved with the thick remains of Vessel masks.
The pristine white masks were now stained with gray-black grime, made exceptionally brittle by the Void's corrosion.
Stepping on this land of remains felt no different from treading on a sea of bones.
Disturbed by the intruder, clumps of black matter flew out from the piles of remains, swirling and coalescing into shadowy figures in mid-air.
They resembled the Little Knight, but were entirely black, and their head masks were largely similar in form.
These were the shadows of the dead Vessels.
Failed Vessels, their bodies fell into the Abyss, their souls merged with the Void, transforming into unwilling ghosts.
Though dead, they still could not speak, for they were never granted the ability of language in life. Simon could feel their malice.
These ghosts were endless, and Simon did not wish to get entangled with them.
There were two passages at the bottom of the Abyss, directly aligned with the gate on the top level. Simon found the passage that matched the direction of the gate, avoided the ghosts, and entered it.
Here was an impenetrable darkness; the light from the lightfly lantern could not travel far. He could only make out strange sculptures and drooping plants in the gloom.
Madness, oppressiveness, and suffering – the air here made breathing difficult, and simply being present caused an unusual sense of unease.
Simon moved carefully, his feet on solid ground, until he reached a black pool. The black water in the pool was still and utterly silent, but before Simon could reach the edge, the water surged wildly, extending dense black tentacles that thrashed frantically, sealing off the space above the pool.
These were the Void Tendrils that the Little Knight had specifically warned him about.
Simon flew high. Fortunately, this pool was not large, and the tendrils had not extended too far. Simon flew low, hugging the cave ceiling.
Some paths ahead were completely blocked, but fortunately, the terrain here was complex, and there was always a passable route.
He continued deeper, arriving at a spacious cavern.
In the darkness, a towering structure vaguely revealed its grand and extraordinary form. A strong light projected from the top of the building, forming a massive cone of light that covered the area ahead.
Simon knew this was the lighthouse suppressing the Void Tendrils. The Little Knight had been here and had already activated the lighthouse, so he didn't need to go up and turn on the light.
The outer wall of the lighthouse resembled palm tree bark, with large, scale-like stone slabs layered one upon another. The slabs bore eye-shaped carvings; countless slabs, countless eyes, watching in all directions, eerie and savage.
The lighthouse's light shone upon a vast Void Lake, the light cone paving an elliptical path of light. The darkness of the void was suppressed by the light, unable to rage.
Simon flew within the light, looking down at the lake.
A darkness so profound that even strong light could not penetrate it, even printing a deep black base through the light membrane. Did the lake hold unknown secrets? No one could know, for stepping into such a turbulent Void was a death sentence.
Simon needed to find gentle Void matter to undergo the baptism.
He reached the opposite shore and continued deeper into the pitch-black passage.
Winding and twisting, all the way to the bottom.
In a narrow cavern.
There was the petrified corpse of a huge beetle, its slender arms holding a stone basin from which black water overflowed.
Simon stood before the curtain of Void matter, which sloped downwards like a waterfall.
He felt a sense of tranquility.
This Void matter was pure, untainted by later malice, possessing only the essential properties of the Void.
Simon floated before the basin.
He hesitated, he wavered.
At the precipice of life and death, he asked himself, was it truly necessary to push himself this hard?
He repeatedly asked himself this question.
This was a question that could ascend to philosophy, and the answer varied from person to person.
Simon's thoughts wandered. He found all sorts of reasons to convince himself to abandon the fear lurking in his heart, but he couldn't.
He realized that what had driven him this far was nothing more than his own fantasies.
A love for games, a love for life, but perhaps this could only be considered a kind of inertia.
People are always pushed forward by life and their own inner selves, and once started, it's not easy to slow down.
Having come this far, turning back was difficult, and he was unwilling to turn back.
Simon, a person too lazy to even reread a book, would never abandon the task before him.
He self-mockingly called himself a stubborn ordinary person, always had been, and hoped to remain so.
He plunged into the Void.
Shadows surged, enveloping his body.
...
Dream World.
Outside the white mask's protective layer, the golden splendor of before was gone, replaced by a void.
Darkness enveloped Simon's body, and it enveloped his dream.
The mask's protection seemed watertight, but the influence of the Void imperceptibly permeated within.
The fighters' combat became frantic and disorganized. This phenomenon was very evident among lower-ranked fighters and showed a tendency to spread upwards.
Those fighters who could not bear the invisible burden fell one by one, black tears seeping from their eye sockets.
They did not revive; they had already merged with the Void.
The collective consciousness canceled the battle, recalling all sub-consciousnesses.
The grand arena dissipated.
A white sun, suspended in a golden sea of light, covered by a pure white shield, floated together in the darkness.
...
The ocean of shadows surged violently, seeping bit by bit into the shield.
The white sun fell.
The golden splendor extinguished.
The Void consumed everything.
...
No sound, no sight, no touch, no smell.
Unable to speak, unable to observe, unable to touch, unable to smell.
Unaware of up, down, left, or right, nor the passage of time.
The concept of time completely vanished.
Everything was slipping into nothingness.
Nothingness, death.
Fear.
Anxiety, irritability, hatred, pain, regret.
Continuing to fall.
Constantly falling.
No name, no form, no existence, no future.
His heart was burning hot, glowing, but the underlying Core was icy cold.
Thoughts gradually faded, memories were completely out of reach.
Serenity, everything was profoundly peaceful.
...
The White King bound the Void and forged Vessels.
The first Vessel was mentally complete and capable of speech. His inner self was incredibly strong, able to defeat anything in the Dream World, but in reality, he was too weak.
The Radiance was a real entity, not a false dream. A Vessel who could only kill enemies in the Dream World was useless.
He was not granted a Nail. He was expelled.
He picked up a child's toy Nail, a wooden Nail, and named it Life Ender.
He dreamed all day, defeating enemies one by one in his dreams.
He yearned for the White King's recognition.
But he could not, unable even to approach, unable to see the King—his father.
His name was Zote.
His existence shamed the King, who firmly believed that creations did not need minds.
Thereafter, Vessels no longer had mouths that could open and close freely.
...
The Vessels fought each other in the Abyss.
The dust-bodies of the defeated fell from the well walls, crackling and snapping, their bones piling up.
At all costs.
Both creator and creation were mad.
Until one day, a perfect Vessel appeared.
So powerful, with a pure mind.
He was taken by the White King and carefully nurtured.
The remaining nascent Vessel larvae were expelled from Hallownest.
They had to survive alone in a dangerous world and gather enough nutrition to grow their weak bodies.
Exiled, they were not Hollow Knight, but Hungry Knights.
A group of heartless ghouls who crawled out of hell.
--+--
T/N: Although I'm an inexperienced Editor, I do have a Patreon account! Although it seems like I don't have many supporters right now, my webnovel will be released in full every day, and the advanced chapters will be uploaded to Patreon.
It may not be worth it now, but who knows, it might be different in the future. Who knows!
patreon.com/Greyhounds
If you want to see it, then why not?
--+--
T/N: Although I'm an inexperienced Editor, I do have a Patreon account! Although it seems like I don't have many supporters right now, my webnovel will be released in full every day, and the advanced chapters will be uploaded to Patreon.
It may not be worth it now, but who knows, it might be different in the future. Who knows!
patreon.com/Greyhounds
If you want to see it, then why not?