The world burned white.
Aldric felt his body thrown backward, armor screaming as heat and shadow collided in a storm of raw power. When the light finally faded, silence followed — heavy, unnatural. The forest was gone. Only blackened soil and drifting ash remained.
He staggered to his feet, his gauntlet cracked, his sword dim.
The air still tasted of death.
Kael was nowhere to be seen.
Aldric knelt, pressing his hand to the ground. The soil pulsed faintly, as if something alive slithered beneath it. When he lifted his hand, black dust clung to his fingers and dissolved into smoke.
"The Hollow Curse," he muttered. "It's evolving."
He turned as one of his knights — the only one left breathing — crawled from the wreckage. The man's armor was half melted, his skin blistered from the dark surge. "I-it consumed them all… even the light wards didn't hold…"
Aldric's jaw tightened. "Then it's worse than the records said."
The knight coughed blood. "Was he… human?"
Aldric didn't answer. His mind replayed the image — Kael's eyes glowing with that quiet fury, the mark pulsing like a living heart. There had been discipline in his movements, not madness. Control, not chaos.
That was what terrified him most.
"He's no mindless vessel," Aldric said at last. "He's adapting."
The knight bowed his head weakly. "Then what do we do, sir?"
Aldric rose, his expression carved in stone. "We report to the Sanctum. They'll need to open the archives. If the curse has chosen a host strong enough to resist it…" He looked toward the horizon, where the last trace of darkness was fading into dawn. "…then this age may see another Hollow War."
He turned away from the devastation, his cloak scorched and torn. Behind him, the forest smoldered — and from the ashes, a faint pulse of black light flickered once, then vanished.
Sanctum Citadel — Three Nights Later
The grand hall of the Sanctum was a cathedral of marble and gold, built on bones of the old empire. Light from hundreds of braziers painted the walls in holy fire. At the far end sat the High Seer, veiled in white, her voice echoing like a hymn.
"You failed to kill him."
Aldric knelt, head bowed. "I underestimated the depth of the corruption. It's no longer just a parasite. It's learning."
The Seer's voice lowered. "Then the prophecy is true."
Her attendants stirred, whispering prayers. Aldric looked up, confusion shadowing his eyes. "What prophecy?"
The Seer turned toward the massive stained glass behind her — an image of a man cloaked in shadow, standing over a world in flame.
> "When the sky weeps blood and the hollow stirs, one vessel shall rise. Not to destroy the world… but to remake it."
Aldric's hand tightened around the hilt of his sword. "Then I'll end him before that happens."
The Seer's voice softened, almost mournful. "And if the gods do not wish him destroyed?"
Aldric's expression turned to steel. "Then I'll kill their will too."
The chamber fell silent. The candles flickered. Somewhere beyond the city's walls, far from sanctified ground, a man with black veins and burning eyes stirred beneath the ruins — reborn once again.