I woke up from a slumber and sweat was dripping down my forehead. I was dreaming—no, having a nightmare—but I couldn't remember what it was about. The cool, ominous air of the Hollow had filled my lungs, but due to all the recent changes that were so abrupt, I found it harder to breathe.
For the next few days I knew that I was on the brink of exiting the Hollow, but I was in no rush to do so now after the recent developments of my Essence not being able to manifest. I repeated the process over and over again but no success.
I knew that my Essence was closely tied to my mental fortitude, but being completely honest with myself was critical. The reason I couldn't manifest my Essence anymore was because my mind was too preoccupied with Violet leaving so abruptly.
I tried to shift my focus to other problems that I was facing, but nothing could change the fact that I felt uncomfortable. I wish that Scarlett had stayed with me—that would have prompted Violet to stay as well. Though Scarlett's decision for us to split was for the most part my fault—because I couldn't protect her—I was dreading my stupid decision to split from her in the first place.
Deciding that harnessing my essence was not something I could do right now, I opted to sit in meditation and clear the mind and spirit the best I could. Once in a meditative trance, I began to sink deep into my thoughts—and this is what I came up with:
I was not like the others.
I had no Interlogue.
No beacon. No system.
No failsafe.
I wasn't linked to what was left of the world's digital scraps—the echo networks, the proximity maps, the encoded safe zones. I operated outside of it all.
But even more than that…
I didn't use NULL.
I wasn't like the Dracus or their victims or their acolytes. My power didn't rot things from the inside.
I had Essence.
Something purer.
Something soul-born.
And now…
Even that was fading.
The silence surrounding me wasn't just quiet—it was empty. I could feel the breath of the Hollow dying behind me, the Mortar Zone looming up ahead… and me, stuck in the middle, spirit cracked wide open.
So I went inward.
To remind myself.
To trace the broken outlines of who I was… and who I had to become.
Five truths.
Carved into my soul like runes made from pain.
1. Figure out my past. Why I was killed.Everything started with my death.Before I woke in the forest. Before the encampment. Before the Hollow.I had a life. A role. A purpose.And someone ended it.Clean. Permanent.They made sure I wouldn't remember.They buried the truth so deep I had to die again just to feel it.But memory doesn't stay dead forever.And whatever I was back then… I'm going to become more.
2. Liberate Earth from the Dracus.Our planet is in chains.Cities are gone. Forests turned into camps.Entire continents bowed beneath the heel of something alien and arrogant.The Dracus don't want to rule—they want to erase and rebuild in their image.I've seen their scouts. Their hunters. Their warped foot soldiers.I've seen what they do to survivors.And I know what they'll do to Violet and Scarlett if they get caught again.This is not just a war.
It's a rescue mission.
3. Defeat the Dracus. Break their power.The lower ones are roaches with NULL-infused blood.Their venom eats the world molecule by molecule.But the higher-ranking Dracus? The commanders?They use something different.Something ancient. Something that fuses corrupted science with technology stolen from somewhere else.I don't know what it is yet.But I'll find out.And I'll turn it against them.
4. Rescue Nyxia.They locked her away.The one they feared. The one they betrayed.Trapped in a micro-verse. A fragmented sliver of the Void.And yet... she still speaks to me in death.She holds my soul together when I fall apart.She was more than power.She was mine.And I will bring her back.
Even if I have to bleed through reality to reach her.
5. Reunite the ones I lost.Violet.Scarlett.Cali.Marie…
They're not just names.They're the pieces of something larger.A constellation pulled together by fate and shattered by war.Violet is chasing the ones we left behind.Scarlett is still out there—wounded, maybe alone.Cali guards Herra in silence, preparing for what's coming.And Marie…
She's under his control.
Ren.
I'll save her.
I'll save them all.
The list echoed through me. Not like a mantra.
Like a contract.
One I was bound to fulfill with blood, bone, and breath.
I opened my eyes.
No glow.
No surge of power.
But my body had stopped shaking.
That was enough.
For now.
In the distance, the sky flashed orange.
An explosion rolled across the Mortar Zone—a distant orbital strike, lighting the ragged landscape like a god's dying eye.
The next battlefield awaited.
I wasn't ready.
Not yet.
But I was walking.
"No more running," I said aloud."Even if I crawl.""Even if I burn."
And with that…
I stepped into the fire.
The ground changed under my feet as I stepped farther into the Mortar Zone.
The soil wasn't soil anymore. It was cracked obsidian, brittle and sharp, layered over a bed of ash. Every footstep echoed like the land was hollow beneath me—and it probably was.
It smelled like metal.
Not iron.
Not blood.
Just… burnt circuitry. Things that shouldn't exist in a place this ruined.
A sharp crack rolled through the sky—like lightning, but sharper.
Then came the tremble.
I ducked out of instinct, crouching beside a twisted tree husk scorched down to bone. Seconds later, the airstrike hit.
Not close.
But loud.
A mile away, maybe. But I still felt it.The boom rolled through my ribcage. Dust fell from the cliffs around me like the land had just sighed.
That was the third orbital blast I'd heard since I woke.
They weren't targeting anything directly.
They were just wiping.
Erasing routes. Collapsing trails. Trying to keep any survivor from crossing out of the Hollow and reaching the Wastelands.
I was starting to understand why no one had ever made it across.
I felt a trickle down my cheek.
I touched it.
Blood. Again.
Not from a wound.
Just… pressure.Stress.
Or maybe it was the Hollow leaking out of me.
I kept walking.
Not because I wanted to.
But because stopping meant dying, and I'd done that once already.
The worst part wasn't the bombs.
It was the silence in between.
I didn't hear any animals.
No wind.
No demons.
Just the subtle crunch of ash under my boots—and the occasional boom that reminded me the Dracus were still watching the sky, still watching this region, still burning it on schedule.
They didn't even need ground troops.
They just needed orbit.
There was a point mid-day—if you could even call it that—where I felt my knees start to buckle. Not from wounds.
Just… emptiness.
I tried, again, to pull Essence.
Anything.
A flicker. A glow. A hum.
Nothing.
The well was dry.
I sat behind a collapsed ridge. Curled up. Head low. Breath shallow.
I didn't sleep.
Couldn't.
The last time I let my guard down, Violet vanished.
The time before that, I woke up in a shrine surrounded by skinwalkers.
So no more rest.
Just watchfulness.
Just dread.
I didn't know how long I'd been crouched there before I saw the figure.
Far across the ashfield.
Human-shaped.
But still.
Too still.
I blinked.
It was gone.
No footprints.No aura.No noise.
Nothing.
I rubbed my eyes.
I was seeing things now.
Perfect.
Eventually I got up.
Shoulder sore. Legs slow.
A whisper behind my ear.
"You'll die here."
I spun.
No one.
Just ash swirling in the windless air.
I hated how quiet I was becoming.
I wasn't even talking to myself anymore.
Didn't call out to Nyxia.
Didn't curse the sky.
Didn't yell Violet's name, even though it was on the edge of my tongue for hours.
I just walked.
One foot in front of the other.
Dead weight in motion.
The light shifted overhead.
Gray to red.
Red to black.
Bomb flashes lit the atmosphere like a broken lighthouse warning ships that had long since sunk.
I found a small outcrop.
A dented ridge carved with what looked like ancient burn marks, twisted symbols, and melted bone.
It looked like a demon had tried to build a shrine here once.
Something old.
I laid down in it. Just for a minute.
Closed my eyes.
Didn't sleep.
Just breathed.
And felt nothing.
This wasn't living.
This was echoing.
A copy of myself dragging the original forward.
My last thought before I lost track of time again was simple.
Not profound.
Not poetic.
Just…
"If I survive this, I won't be the same."