The Hollow King was gone.

  The city lay in ruins, its once-towering spires now reduced to broken stone and dust. The golden light that had erupted from Sorin’s body still flickered in the air, casting long, shifting shadows across the shattered ground.

  Aeris sat in the debris, breathing hard.

  Her muscles burned, her lungs ached, but she barely noticed. Her entire focus was on the figure lying beside her—

  Sorin.

  He hadn’t moved since he spoke.

  His chest rose and fell, slow and uneven. His body was covered in deep cracks of gold and black, remnants of the Hollow King’s power still lingering in his skin like battle scars.

  But he was alive.

  Aeris felt something in her chest ease.

  She lifted a hand, hesitating before brushing the dust from his face. His skin was cold, but not unnaturally so—not like before, when the void had swallowed him whole.

  A rustling sound came from behind her.

  She turned—tense—but it was just the Exiled One.

  His armor was dented, his mask cracked along the edge, but he was still standing.

  For a long moment, no one spoke.

  The Exiled One’s gaze flickered to Sorin, his grip on his twin blades tightening.

  And then—he sighed.

  “Well,” he muttered. “That was stupid.”

  Aeris let out a short, exhausted laugh. “Which part?”

  “All of it.”

  She didn’t argue. He wasn’t wrong.

  Silence settled over them again.

  Then—Sorin stirred.

  Aeris’ breath caught.

  His eyelids fluttered open, revealing those golden eyes—no longer hollow, no longer lost to darkness.

  Just Sorin.

  Aeris felt her chest tighten.

  She swallowed. “Hey.”

  He blinked slowly, his eyes hazy, as if the world was only just coming back into focus.

  His gaze flickered between her, the Exiled One, the ruins. Confusion.

  Then—his brow furrowed.

  “…What happened?”

  Aeris exhaled.

  And she told him.

  Sorin listened in silence.

  Aeris kept her voice steady as she spoke, recounting everything—the ruins, the Hollow King, the fight. How she had reached him. How he had finally come back.

  And through it all, Sorin didn’t say a word.

  His hands rested on his chest, fingers curling slightly, as if trying to feel something that wasn’t there. His breathing was slow, measured. But Aeris could see the tension creeping into his shoulders, the way his jaw tightened the longer she spoke.

  And when she finally finished—

  Sorin exhaled, his eyes darkening.

  “…It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

  Aeris frowned. “What do you mean?”

  Sorin didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he slowly pushed himself up, his movements sluggish but deliberate. His arms shook slightly under the weight, his body still weak, but he forced himself upright regardless.

  He looked at his hands.

  At the cracks of gold and black still running through his skin.

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  At the power still lingering inside him.

  His expression hardened.

  “I can still feel them,” he muttered.

  Aeris blinked. “Feel what?”

  He closed his eyes. His fingers twitched.

  “…The voices.”

  Aeris and the Exiled One stiffened.

  Sorin’s lips pressed into a thin line. He opened his eyes again, his golden irises flickering with something unreadable.

  “They’re still there,” he murmured. “Distant. Faint. But not gone.”

  Aeris felt a chill creep down her spine.

  The Hollow King was dead. His reign was over.

  And yet—

  The voices remained.

  Aeris stared at Sorin.

  The voices were still there?

  She didn’t want to believe it. She wanted to think that this was over—that the Hollow King’s hold had finally shattered. That the battle they had fought, the suffering they had endured, had meant something.

  But Sorin’s expression—the way his fingers curled like he was holding back something unseen, the way his jaw clenched in quiet restraint—told her otherwise.

  This wasn’t over.

  The Exiled One was the first to speak.

  “…You still hear them.” His voice was unreadable. “The Hollow King’s voices.”

  Sorin exhaled sharply. “Not just the Hollow King’s.”

  Aeris felt her stomach turn.

  Sorin lifted a hand, staring at the veins of gold and black still running through his skin. The cracks that had formed when the Hollow King’s essence had been ripped apart—they hadn’t vanished.

  His voice was quiet. Flat.

  “They aren’t screaming anymore,” he murmured. “But they’re still… there. Whispering. Waiting.”

  The Exiled One studied him carefully.

  “…And what are they waiting for?”

  Sorin’s gaze flickered up.

  And for the first time since he’d woken up, Aeris saw hesitation in his eyes.

  He didn’t answer.

  Didn’t have to.

  The silence said enough.

  The Exiled One exhaled. “Then we have a problem.”

  Sorin gave a short, humorless laugh. “You think?”

  Aeris looked between them.

  Her thoughts were racing.

  The Hollow King was dead. His power had collapsed. The curse on the city had shattered.

  But Sorin had been at the center of it all.

  He had been the vessel.

  The moment the Hollow King had died, something should have happened.

  But it hadn’t.

  Instead, Sorin still carried the weight of those souls.

  She clenched her fists.

  “What does this mean?” she asked, forcing her voice to stay steady.

  Sorin hesitated.

  Then—

  “…It means I’m not free.”

  Aeris’ breath caught.

  Sorin looked down at his hands again. “The power didn’t vanish. It just… broke apart. And I was the closest thing left to hold it.”

  The realization hit her like a blade.

  The Hollow King was gone.

  But the chains he carried—the burden of those lost souls—

  Hadn’t disappeared.

  They had simply found a new host.

  Sorin.

  Sorin closed his hands into fists.

  The weight of the truth settled over him—heavy, suffocating. The Hollow King was gone, but his chains remained.

  And now, they were his.

  Aeris watched him carefully. She looked like she wanted to say something—to argue, to deny it. But she didn’t.

  Because she knew.

  She had seen it before.

  The golden cracks running through his skin. The way he clutched his arms, as if something was twisting inside him.

  She had seen the Hollow King do the same.

  She swallowed hard. “There has to be a way to fix this.”

  Sorin huffed a quiet, bitter laugh. “You think I haven’t tried?”

  Aeris stiffened.

  Sorin exhaled slowly, pressing his fingers against his temples.

  “When I woke up, I thought—maybe it was just an echo,” he admitted. “Maybe it was just a lingering effect of being his vessel. But the longer I sit here, the more I can feel it.”

  His voice dropped.

  “This power doesn’t want to leave me.”

  Aeris’ stomach tightened.

  The Exiled One finally moved, stepping forward, his tattered cloak shifting around him. His voice was steady, but there was a weight behind it.

  “You know what this means, don’t you?”

  Sorin’s jaw tensed. He did.

  Aeris looked between them, frustration creeping into her voice. “Will someone explain it to me?”

  The Exiled One didn’t take his eyes off Sorin.

  “If the power refuses to leave him, then there are only two possibilities,” he said. “One—he learns to control it.”

  Aeris blinked. “And the other?”

  The Exiled One’s voice turned cold.

  “It consumes him.”

  Silence.

  Aeris felt the world tilt beneath her.

  “No,” she said immediately. “That’s not going to happen.”

  Sorin didn’t answer.

  Aeris turned to him, anger and desperation bubbling in her chest. “Sorin.”

  Still, nothing.

  His golden eyes were unfocused, lost in thought.

  And that scared her.

  She grabbed his wrist, forcing him to look at her. “You are not going to let this consume you. We’ll find a way.”

  Sorin met her gaze.

  And for a moment—just a brief second—there was something in his eyes.

  Something almost like doubt.

  Then—he pulled his hand away.

  “…We don’t even know if there is a way.”

  Aeris gritted her teeth. “Then we’ll find one.”

  Sorin looked at her for a long time. Then, finally, he sighed.

  “…Alright.”

  It wasn’t much.

  But it was enough.

  For now.

  Aeris clenched her fists.

  Sorin’s agreement—if she could even call it that—felt hollow. Like he was saying it just to end the conversation, not because he truly believed in it.

  That wasn’t enough.

  She wouldn’t let it be.

  The Exiled One crossed his arms, his gaze flickering between them. “If we’re doing this, then we need a plan.”

  Aeris nodded. Finally, something actionable. “We should figure out if there’s a way to separate him from the power.”

  The Exiled One hummed. “If there is one.”

  “There has to be,” Aeris snapped.

  The Exiled One didn’t argue, but his silence made his thoughts clear. He wasn’t convinced.

  Aeris turned back to Sorin, watching as he slowly pushed himself to his feet. He swayed slightly, but didn’t fall. Good.

  “We’ll go to the Sealed Archive,” she said.

  Sorin blinked. “The Archive?”

  “It holds records older than any of us,” she pointed out. “If anyone in history has survived something like this, it’ll be in there.”

  The Exiled One exhaled. “The Sealed Archive was destroyed a long time ago.”

  Aeris smirked. “Was it?”

  Sorin and the Exiled One both stared at her.

  Aeris rolled her shoulders. “Most of the main structure is gone, sure. But the underground vaults? They were hidden for a reason. The Empire tried to burn every record, but some things don’t die so easily.”

  She glanced at Sorin.

  “Like you.”

  Sorin let out a soft, tired laugh. “Fair point.”

  The Exiled One remained skeptical. “And you know how to get inside?”

  Aeris shrugged. “More or less.”

  The Exiled One sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “We’re going to die.”

  Aeris grinned. “Not if we’re smart about it.”

  She turned back to Sorin. “Can you travel?”

  He hesitated, then nodded once. “I’ll manage.”

  Aeris didn’t fully believe him, but she wasn’t going to argue.

  They had a plan.

  And for now, that was enough.