The Hollow Arena was nothing like Ethan had imagined.
He'd expected a pit, crude and bloodstained, where beasts tore men apart while Overseers drank from the shadows. Instead, it was a cathedral hollowed into stone, vast and echoing, its ceiling vanishing into darkness. Runes shimmered faintly across its walls, not for beauty but for containment. The arena floor itself was a perfect circle of blackened earth, layered with scars of battle that had never healed.
Tiered seats rose high above, packed with masked hunters, initiates, and Overseers. The air was feverish with anticipation, their whispers a chorus of hunger. Chains rattled faintly, not from the audience but from the arena itself—embedded deep, thrumming with a rhythm that matched the pounding of Ethan's wrist.
He stood at the gate, Shadowfang growling low beside him, fur bristling, fire dimmed as though the arena itself sought to smother it.
The Overseer's voice boomed, amplified by runes.
"Ethan Veyra. Initiate. Vessel of Chains." The words made the crowd stir. "Today, you stand not for trial alone, but for revelation. The Hollow Arena will decide whether you are worthy to bear what the Guild claims as its sacred burden."
The gate groaned open.
Ethan stepped forward. The roar that followed wasn't triumph—it was hunger, the sound of men and women who came to watch blood spill.
---
The arena floor trembled. From the opposite gate, chains snaked outward, dragging something massive. A figure lurched into the light—at first a beast, then something far worse.
It had once been a hunter. The tatters of a Guild cloak still clung to its shoulders. But the chains had fused with its flesh, splitting muscle, threading through bone. Its eyes were empty, glowing with hollow light. Its arms ended in hooks of metal and sinew, each movement accompanied by the clatter of links.
The Overseer's voice rang out: "Behold the fate of vessels who failed. Behold the Hollowed."
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Ethan's stomach twisted. This… this thing was what Lyra had warned him about. Chains consuming, reshaping, devouring until nothing remained but a shell.
Shadowfang snarled, flames bursting brighter, but even the wolf took a step back. Through the bond, Ethan felt its revulsion.
The gate slammed shut. The Hollow Arena had chosen its cruelty.
---
The Hollowed moved faster than its bulk suggested. Chains lashed out, slamming into the earth where Ethan had stood a heartbeat before. The ground cratered, shards of stone flying.
Ethan rolled, breath ragged, wrist blazing. Instinct screamed at him to flee, but there was no escape.
The chains under his skin pulsed. Responding. Waiting.
The Hollowed turned, jaw unhinging, a scream tearing through the arena that wasn't human or beast—it was chains scraping chains. The audience cheered, hungry.
"Shadowfang!" Ethan called. The wolf lunged, flames exploding across the beast's chest. For a heartbeat, it staggered. But then chains writhed across its body, smothering fire, strangling it out. Shadowfang was thrown aside, crashing into the earth with a pained whine.
Ethan's fury flared. He raised his arm—and the brand ignited.
Chains erupted from the ground. Not the Hollowed's. His.
They coiled upward, gleaming with spectral fire, and struck against the monster's lash. The collision sent shockwaves through the arena, dust rising in a choking cloud.
The crowd roared louder. Overseers leaned forward. The Master, seated high above, tilted his masked head in silent judgment.
---
Ethan staggered, chest heaving. The chains weren't simply weapons—they were alive, each link pressing into his mind like whispers.
Pull deeper. Break it. Feed.
He gritted his teeth, forcing focus. "I'm not your puppet," he hissed.
The Hollowed surged through dust, hooks flashing. One slashed across his side, tearing cloak and flesh. Pain exploded, blood soaking fabric. Ethan nearly collapsed, but the chains lashed outward of their own accord, shielding him, driving the monster back.
The price was immediate. His vision blurred, every nerve screaming. The chains weren't just drawing on his strength—they were devouring it.
Shadowfang returned, eyes burning gold, flames raging hotter than before. The wolf leapt, slamming into the Hollowed, jaws locking around its neck. Fire surged along its body, searing chains. For a moment, the arena lit with golden blaze.
Ethan seized the chance. He thrust his arm forward, willing the chains to obey.
They did.
They speared through the Hollowed's chest, bursting out its back in a spray of ash and broken links. The monster convulsed, shrieking, its form unraveling under the weight of both fire and chains.
When it finally collapsed, silence fell across the arena.
Then the roar came. Thunderous. Frenzied.
Ethan stood over the corpse, blood dripping, breath ragged. Shadowfang limped beside him, fur scorched but unbroken.
Above, the Master rose slowly, mask glinting in firelight.
"The chains have accepted you," he declared. "You are no longer mere vessel. You are bound hunter."
The title echoed, carried by whispers and shouts alike. But Ethan heard none of it. His wrist still burned, the whispers louder than ever.
Break more. Feed more. You are ours.
---
Back in the barracks, Ethan collapsed onto his cot, pain radiating through his body. Shadowfang curled beside him, warmth steady against the cold.
The door creaked. Lyra slipped in, eyes sharp.
"You survived," she said quietly. "I didn't think you would."
"Neither did I," Ethan muttered.
Her gaze flicked to his wrist. The glow pulsed faintly even through the bandages. "You used them fully."
He swallowed. "I had no choice."
"That's what they want," she snapped. "The chains win when you believe there's no choice. Every vessel says the same before they vanish into monsters."
Her voice cracked, just slightly. "My brother said the same."
Ethan's eyes widened. "Your brother—?"
She cut him off. "He was chosen. Years ago. He fought in the Hollow Arena, too. Won. For a while, the Guild called him a prodigy. Then the chains ate him alive."
The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating.
Ethan clenched his fists. "I won't let that happen."
Her gaze softened, but her words were razor sharp. "Then you'd better learn faster than he did. Because after tonight, the Guild won't let you vanish into the shadows. They'll throw you into war, into hunts no one else can survive. You're not just a vessel now. You're their weapon."
She turned to leave, but paused at the door. "If you want to live, Ethan… find a way to break their rules. Or you'll never break the chains."
Then she was gone, leaving only silence and the weight of the whispers in his veins.
Ethan lay back, staring at the ceiling, Shadowfang's steady breathing beside him. His body screamed with exhaustion, but sleep would not come.
Because deep inside, the chains weren't quiet.
They were laughing.
---
Chapter End.
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