Aeris gasped as she was ripped back into reality.

  Her body hit the ground with a brutal force, lungs burning as she sucked in the cold, stale air of the ruins. It took her a second to realize she was shaking—not from exhaustion, but from the sheer weight of what she had just seen.

  The Archive. The Hollow King. The past itself, collapsing into dust.

  It had been too real. Too much.

  Sorin landed beside her with a pained grunt, his hands still clutching at his chest. His breathing was ragged, his golden veins flickering dimly beneath his skin. He looked like he had just survived a war.

  And then—the Exiled One.

  He hadn’t fallen like them. He stood still, his form rigid, his dark eyes locked on the ruins ahead. The wind stirred his cloak, but he didn’t move.

  Didn’t speak.

  Aeris forced herself up on unsteady legs. The ruins looked the same as before. The shattered columns, the endless sky above—but she knew everything had changed.

  Sorin finally exhaled, breaking the silence. “That wasn’t just a vision.” His voice was hoarse, his gaze flickering to hers. “That was—”

  “Real.” Aeris finished.

  It wasn’t just a memory. It had happened. And they had been inside it.

  Her stomach twisted. What had they just witnessed?

  What had the Hollow King taken?

  And more importantly—what had he unleashed?

  Aeris looked toward the Exiled One, expecting him to speak.

  But he didn’t.

  He just stared into the ruins—silent, unmoving.

  Something was wrong.

  Aeris wiped sweat from her brow, trying to steady her breath. Her pulse was still racing.

  The past had never felt so alive.

  And yet, as she looked around the ruins, everything appeared exactly the same.

  Broken columns. Faded carvings. The sky stretching endlessly above.

  But something had changed.

  The Exiled One hadn’t moved.

  His hood was drawn low, shadows clinging to his face, but Aeris could still feel the weight of his silence.

  Sorin finally pushed himself to his feet. “Hey.” His voice was rough. “Are you going to say something, or—”

  The Exiled One exhaled.

  Not a sigh.

  Not relief.

  Something closer to acceptance.

  “…It is worse than I feared.”

  His voice was too calm. Too steady.

  That made it worse.

  Sorin narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”

  The Exiled One finally turned to them. His gaze was unreadable, but something in it felt heavier than before. “You saw it, didn’t you?”

  Aeris swallowed. The book.

  The Hollow King had taken it.

  But it hadn’t just been a book.

  She knew that now.

  “…What was inside?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

  The Exiled One was quiet for a long moment. Then—

  “A name.”

  Aeris’ breath caught.

  “A name?” Sorin echoed, skepticism laced in his tone. “That’s what all of this was about? Some ancient book with a—”

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  “No.” The Exiled One cut him off. His gaze sharpened. “Not just a name.”

  His next words sent a chill down Aeris’ spine.

  “The name of something that was never meant to exist.”

  Silence fell.

  Aeris’ hands curled into fists. She knew what that meant.

  The Archive hadn’t just been a sanctuary of knowledge.

  It had been a prison.

  And the Hollow King had just stolen the key.

  Aeris felt the weight of those words settle into her bones.

  "A name that was never meant to exist."

  The air around them felt thicker, almost like the ruins themselves were holding their breath.

  Sorin scoffed, but there was an edge to his voice. “You’re telling me we just saw an entire archive collapse over a single name?”

  The Exiled One didn’t react to the skepticism. His voice remained even. “Names have power.”

  Sorin ran a hand through his hair, muttering under his breath, but Aeris didn’t argue. She already knew he was right.

  “…What was it?” she asked.

  The Exiled One was silent.

  Too silent.

  Sorin’s brow furrowed. “You do know it, right?”

  “…I do.”

  The air shuddered.

  Aeris felt it. The way reality itself seemed to shift at those words.

  Sorin must have felt it too, because his shoulders tensed.

  “…Then tell us.”

  The Exiled One didn’t move.

  Didn’t even blink.

  Then, finally, in a voice lower than before—

  “No.”

  Sorin blinked. “What?”

  “I will not speak it.” His gaze darkened. “Not here. Not anywhere.”

  Aeris’ stomach twisted. The Exiled One never hesitated. Never wavered.

  But now?

  He was afraid.

  She swallowed. “Then at least tell us what it means.”

  The Exiled One closed his eyes.

  “…The Hollow King did not steal knowledge.”

  A long pause.

  Then—

  “He stole a god.”

  The world tilted.

  Aeris barely registered the sound of Sorin’s breath hitching, because her own mind was struggling to process those words.

  Not knowledge. Not power.

  A god.

  The weight of it pressed down on her lungs, her heart hammering against her ribs.

  This wasn’t just history.

  This wasn’t just a forgotten war.

  This was something else.

  And the Hollow King had just taken it.

  Sorin let out a breath that sounded more like a laugh—sharp, incredulous. “You’re joking.”

  The Exiled One’s expression didn’t change.

  “Come on,” Sorin pressed, his voice edged with disbelief. “A god? Sealed away in some ancient archive? That’s the kind of story old priests tell to keep people afraid of the dark.”

  The Exiled One didn’t argue. He simply turned to face him, his stare unwavering.

  “The Hollow King did not fear the dark,” he said quietly. “He wished to own it.”

  Aeris felt a chill snake down her spine.

  She knew Sorin didn’t want to believe it. She didn’t either.

  But the moment the Exiled One had said it, she had known it was true.

  The past had never been just stories. Not here.

  Not after everything they had seen.

  Sorin shook his head. “Even if—if—this is true, then what? You’re telling me we’re supposed to believe the Hollow King just walked into that place and stole a god?” He folded his arms. “That’s ridiculous.”

  The Exiled One’s lips pressed into a thin line. “No.”

  Sorin blinked. “No?”

  The Exiled One exhaled, slowly, as if he didn’t want to say what came next.

  “The Hollow King did not steal a god.” He looked past them, toward the ruins stretching behind them. “He set it free.”

  Aeris’ breath hitched.

  She didn’t even need to see Sorin’s face to know he had gone pale.

  Because this wasn’t just a problem from the past anymore.

  This was happening right now.

  The Archive had fallen.

  The seal had been broken.

  The god was awake.

  And whatever it was—wherever it was—it was already moving.

  Aeris’ hands clenched into fists.

  This was worse than she had thought. Worse than any of them had thought.

  Not just a name. Not just power.

  A god had been imprisoned inside the Archive—and the Hollow King had just set it free.

  Her stomach twisted. Where was it now?

  The Exiled One turned toward the horizon.

  “We need to move.” His voice was steady, but there was an urgency in it. A weight that hadn’t been there before.

  Sorin took a slow step forward, still struggling to wrap his head around it. “Wait—where exactly are we going?”

  “The Hollow King had a reason for taking the book,” the Exiled One said. “He isn’t just releasing something. He’s guiding it.”

  Aeris swallowed hard.

  Of course. The Hollow King wasn’t stupid. He didn’t do anything without purpose.

  He hadn’t just freed the god.

  He was leading it somewhere.

  Sorin exhaled, rubbing his temple. “And I’m guessing it’s not somewhere good.”

  The Exiled One didn’t answer immediately.

  Then—

  “There is only one place a god would go.”

  Aeris didn’t even need to hear the rest. She already knew.

  Her chest tightened.

  “…The capital.”

  Sorin went still. “You’re kidding.”

  Aeris looked at the Exiled One. He said nothing, but his silence was confirmation enough.

  It made sense. The capital was the heart of the kingdom. If you wanted to send a message—if you wanted to make people afraid—that was where you would start.

  She could already picture it.

  A god, walking through the streets.

  A power no one understood, unstoppable, relentless.

  And the Hollow King standing in its shadow.

  Waiting.

  Sorin let out a breath that sounded dangerously close to a curse. “You’re telling me we have to outrun a god?”

  The Exiled One didn’t respond.

  Aeris could already guess why. They weren’t going to outrun it.

  This wasn’t a race. It was a chase.

  One where they were the prey.

  She inhaled sharply. “How fast will it move?”

  The Exiled One tilted his head slightly, his gaze distant. Calculating. “It depends.”

  “On what?”

  His stare settled on her. “On how much of itself it remembers.”

  Aeris’ pulse quickened.

  That was right. The Archive hadn’t just sealed it away.

  It had buried it.

  Drowned it beneath layers of time and silence, erasing everything it once was.

  If the god had just woken, if it was still confused, then maybe—just maybe—they had a chance to reach the capital before it did.

  But if it had already remembered…

  Her fingers curled against her palm. They wouldn’t stand a chance.

  Sorin exhaled. “Great. So either we die running, or we die fighting.”

  The Exiled One studied him. “Do you believe we will fail?”

  Sorin paused. “What?”

  “I asked,” the Exiled One repeated, “if you believe we will fail.”

  Sorin frowned, clearly unsure how to respond.

  Aeris almost expected him to say something sarcastic, but to her surprise, he didn’t.

  Instead, he hesitated.

  Then, finally—

  “…No.”

  The Exiled One inclined his head slightly, as if that was the answer he had been waiting for.

  “Good,” he said simply. Then, without another word, he turned—and began walking.

  Aeris took a breath.

  Then she followed.

  Sorin let out a quiet sigh, muttering under his breath as he moved to catch up.

  None of them knew what they would find in the capital.

  But they would get there before the god did.

  Or die trying.