---
The Church's summons arrived at dawn.
A rider clad in blackened steel, his tabard stitched with the Eclipse Sigil—a sun devoured by its own shadow. He did not dismount. Did not speak. Merely dropped the scroll at the gate and left, his horse's hooves kicking up clods of damp earth.
Kael watched from his window. The parchment lay in the mud like a dead thing.
*Right on time.*
---
**Lord Virell's hands trembled as he read the words aloud.**
*"By decree of the Third Inquisitor, House Virell shall surrender a blood hostage to ensure compliance with the Holy Edicts."*
Silence choked the hall.
Lucien, still limping from his "accident," sneered. *"Give them the bastard."*
Kael said nothing. He didn't need to.
His father's gaze flicked to him—not with guilt, but calculation. A bastard was disposable. A bastard was *perfect.*
*"Prepare him,"* Lord Virell muttered.
Kael bowed his head, hiding the smile that threatened to split his face.
---
**The carriage came at midnight.**
Black wood, unmarked. The driver wore a hood that swallowed his features. No horses—the thing moved on its own, wheels creaking like a dying man's breath.
Kael stepped inside. The air smelled of incense and something older, something *wet.*
The door shut behind him.
Darkness.
Then—
A voice, rasping from the shadows: *"You do not fear."*
Not a question. An observation.
Kael leaned back against the velvet cushions. *"Should I?"*
A chuckle. The sound of bones rubbing together. *"The last hostage screamed the whole way."*
The carriage lurched forward. Kael watched the estate shrink through the slit of a window. His fingers traced the edge of the seat, feeling the grooves of countless claw marks dug into the wood.
*How many others sat here before me?*
*How many lasted a week?*
---
**The Church of the Eclipse was not a place of light.**
It was a maw.
A cathedral of black stone, its spires jagged like broken teeth. The gates groaned as they parted, revealing a courtyard littered with kneeling figures—hooded, trembling, their lips moving in silent prayer.
Kael stepped onto the flagstones. His boots sank slightly, as if the earth here was *soft.*
A hand gripped his shoulder—tall, gaunt, clad in robes the color of dried blood. The Third Inquisitor.
*"You will kneel,"* the man said.
Kael looked up into a face that was more scar than skin. *"Why?"*
The grip tightened. *"To show submission."*
Kael held his gaze. Then, slowly, he knelt.
Not in surrender.
In *study.*
---
**The cells beneath the cathedral were not meant for prisoners.**
They were meant for *experiments.*
Kael's fingers brushed the walls as the Inquisitor led him deeper. The stones were warm. Pulsing. Veins of crimson light threaded through the rock, throbbing in time with some distant heartbeat.
*"You will serve the Church,"* the Inquisitor said. *"Or you will feed it."*
Kael's Skill Analyzation flickered:
**[Third Inquisitor Veyne]**
- **Rank:** A-tier Zealot
- **Abilities:** Bloodbinding, Pain Echo
- **Weakness:** Right eye (blind, but hides it)
*"Understood,"* Kael said.
The man smiled, revealing teeth filed to points. *"Good."*
The door to Kael's new "quarters" swung open—a windowless cell, a pallet of straw, a bucket. And on the far wall, words scratched into the stone by desperate fingers:
*THE HOLLOW KING WATCHES*
Kael's chest tightened.
*Interesting.*
---
**That night, the whispers began.**
Not from the corridors. Not from the other cells.
From the *walls.*
Kael pressed his palm to the stone. The veins of light pulsed hotter.
A voice, slithering into his skull:
*"You are not like the others."*
Kael didn't move. *"No."*
*"You see the cracks."*
The System flickered in his vision:
**[World Corruption: 3.1%]**
**[Blood of the Hollow: Resonance Detected]**
Kael exhaled. *"Show me."*
The wall *split.*
---
**Final Line:**
Some doors, once opened, cannot be closed.