The City of Ash was dead.

  Or at least, that was what the world believed.

  Aeris had heard the stories before—how the city had burned without a single flame, how the screams had never stopped, even when no one was left to scream. A place cursed, abandoned, and unfit for the living.

  Standing at its edge now, she understood why.

  The air shimmered with heat that wasn’t there, the buildings nothing more than crumbling silhouettes of what once stood. The ground was cracked and brittle, an eerie white dust coating the streets. Not ash—something worse.

  Bone.

  Aeris swallowed hard.

  Beside her, the Exiled One let out a low breath.

  "Still sure about this?" he muttered.

  Aeris didn’t answer. She stepped forward.

  The moment her foot touched the ground, the city breathed.

  It was subtle—just a shift in the air, like an exhale from something ancient.

  Aeris felt it ripple through her bones, a whisper against her skin.

  The Exiled One tensed. "We’re being watched."

  Aeris unsheathed her sword. "Then let them watch."

  She moved deeper into the city, her senses on high alert. The Exiled One followed, his own weapons ready.

  The silence was unnatural. Too perfect.

  Not even the wind stirred.

  Yet the further they walked, the more Aeris could feel it—a presence.

  The Hollow King had been here.

  And something else still was.

  Aeris gripped her sword tighter as she stepped further into the ruins.

  The City of Ash wasn’t just dead—it was wrong.

  Every step forward made her skin prickle, like something unseen was pressing against her. The silence wasn’t absence. It was suppression.

  Something wanted this place to stay forgotten.

  The Exiled One moved beside her, eyes scanning the crumbling streets. His expression was unreadable, but she caught the way his fingers twitched near the hilt of his weapon.

  He feels it, too.

  They passed the remains of what must have once been a marketplace. Stalls lay overturned, shattered pottery littering the ground. But there were no signs of life. No bones, no rusted weapons—nothing to indicate what had happened to the city’s people.

  It was as if they had been erased.

  Aeris exhaled sharply. “How much do you know about what happened here?”

  The Exiled One’s gaze lingered on a collapsed building. “Enough to know that we shouldn’t be here.”

  Aeris gave him a sharp look. “That’s not an answer.”

  The Exiled One hesitated. Then, finally—

  “This city was caught in a war between kings,” he muttered. “Not the kind fought with armies. This was something older. Darker.”

  Aeris frowned. “Magic?”

  The Exiled One nodded. “But not the kind you know. The kind that bends reality. That consumes.”

  A chill crawled down Aeris’ spine.

  She’d seen what magic could do—what corruption could do. But the City of Ash felt different. Not twisted. Not infected.

  Just… hollow.

  She tightened her grip.

  Then—

  A whisper.

  Faint. Distant.

  But there.

  Aeris froze. “Did you hear that?”

  The Exiled One nodded. “We’re not alone.”

  They turned a corner, and the street opened into a vast courtyard.

  And at its center—

  A figure knelt in the dust.

  Aeris’ breath hitched. No.

  She knew that shape. That presence.

  Sorin.

  But something was wrong.

  Even from this distance, she could see it—his shoulders were too still, his breathing too controlled. Like a puppet waiting for its strings to be pulled.

  The Hollow King.

  Aeris’ heart pounded.

  She had found him.

  But had she found him too late?

  Aeris' breath came shallow as she stepped forward, eyes locked on the kneeling figure.

  Sorin.

  Or what was left of him.

  The Hollow King sat unmoving, his head bowed, dark armor cracked and weathered. His cloak lay in tatters around him, blending into the dust. He looked like a statue, like something that had been left to decay for centuries.

  But Aeris could feel it—the power humming beneath his stillness.

  He wasn’t asleep.

  He was waiting.

  The Exiled One tensed beside her. “Aeris—”

  She ignored him.

  She took another step, the sound of her boots too loud in the oppressive silence.

  The Hollow King’s fingers twitched.

  Aeris inhaled sharply.

  Then, slowly, he lifted his head.

  The moment their eyes met, her breath caught.

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  His gaze was wrong.

  It was Sorin’s face, but the eyes staring back at her were voids of shifting black and gold, as if something other was looking through him.

  Something ancient. Something powerful.

  Something not him.

  Aeris’ grip tightened on her sword.

  “…Sorin?”

  For a moment, nothing.

  Then—

  The Hollow King smiled.

  Not Sorin’s smirk. Not his quiet, knowing amusement.

  This was something else.

  Something that made her blood run cold.

  “Aeris.”

  Her breath hitched.

  It was his voice.

  But it wasn’t.

  She took another step forward. “Sorin, it’s me.”

  The Hollow King tilted his head. “I know.”

  That should have reassured her.

  It didn’t.

  Aeris swallowed. “Then come back.”

  Silence.

  Then, softer this time:

  “I can’t.”

  Aeris’ chest tightened.

  Yes, you can.

  She stepped closer, her hands shaking. “I don’t believe that.”

  The Hollow King exhaled, tilting his head toward the sky. “You should.”

  The Exiled One moved beside her, his hand twitching toward his weapon. “Aeris, don’t get any closer.”

  Aeris ignored him.

  She was close enough now to see the cracks running through the Hollow King’s armor—deep fissures, as if something inside was fighting to break free.

  She reached out.

  And his hand shot up, seizing her wrist.

  A shock jolted through her body, a wave of force that nearly sent her to her knees.

  The Hollow King’s grip was like iron.

  But it wasn’t just strength—it was his power.

  It surged through her like a tidal wave, something vast and consuming, something that had no end—

  No.

  Aeris clenched her jaw, forcing herself to push through the pain.

  “Sorin,” she gasped, “fight it.”

  The Hollow King’s fingers tightened.

  For a moment, the black void of his eyes flickered.

  Aeris saw it.

  A glimpse. A flicker. A sliver of him.

  Sorin.

  He was still there.

  But then—

  The moment shattered.

  The Hollow King exhaled sharply—and Aeris was thrown backward.

  She crashed into the ground, rolling to a stop. Dust filled her lungs as she scrambled to her feet.

  The Hollow King rose.

  Slowly. Effortlessly.

  But something was different.

  He was shaking.

  Cracks spiderwebbed through his armor, pulsing with golden light.

  He pressed a hand to his temple, his breath uneven.

  Aeris’ heart hammered.

  He’s fighting it.

  He’s still in there.

  For a split second, she thought he might collapse.

  Then—

  His head snapped up.

  And the hesitation was gone.

  The air around them rippled.

  The weight of his power came crashing down, pressing against Aeris' chest like a vice.

  His void-like gaze burned into hers.

  And then, in a voice that was no longer Sorin’s:

  “You shouldn’t have come here.”

  And the ruins came alive.

  The ruins trembled.

  The air cracked with energy, sending shockwaves rippling outward. Stone splintered, dust lifted, and the silence of the City of Ash shattered all at once.

  Aeris barely had time to react before the ground beneath her fractured.

  She leaped back just as jagged tendrils of blackened energy erupted from the street, clawing toward her like grasping hands.

  The Hollow King hadn’t moved.

  But the city itself had.

  Aeris’ heart slammed against her ribs. It was responding to him.

  No—obeying him.

  The Exiled One cursed beside her, drawing his twin blades. “You had to touch him, didn’t you?”

  Aeris barely heard him.

  Her focus was locked on Sorin—on the thing wearing his body.

  The Hollow King stood at the center of the courtyard, his tattered cloak billowing as if caught in an unseen storm. Cracks in his armor pulsed with that eerie golden light, his fingers twitching at his sides.

  And then—

  He raised his hand.

  The ruins answered.

  The air howled as broken towers and shattered walls lurched to life, twisting and reforming. Shadowy figures—distorted, almost human—began rising from the dust, their bodies flickering like dying embers.

  Aeris’ blood ran cold.

  The lost souls of the City of Ash.

  They weren’t gone.

  They were trapped here.

  And now, they were his.

  The Hollow King lowered his hand.

  And the wraiths attacked.

  Aeris didn’t hesitate.

  She moved.

  Her blade carved through the first wraith in a single fluid motion—but it didn’t stop.

  The cut should have destroyed it, but the creature reformed instantly, its body reshaping like smoke.

  Aeris barely had time to curse before three more lunged at her.

  She twisted, dodging one swipe, then another. A claw raked across her shoulder—not quite piercing armor, but close.

  She hissed, bringing her sword up to block the next strike.

  They were fast. Relentless. Endless.

  She risked a glance toward the Hollow King.

  He wasn’t watching her.

  He was watching the ruins shift around them, as if listening.

  As if he was still waiting.

  For what?

  The Exiled One snarled as he ripped through one of the wraiths beside her, his twin blades moving in a deadly blur.

  “Tell me you’ve got a plan,” he gritted out.

  Aeris’ mind raced.

  These things weren’t alive.

  They weren’t undead.

  They were memories. Echoes.

  And memories could be broken.

  She dodged another strike, then narrowed her focus.

  Not on the wraiths—on the magic holding them together.

  There.

  The golden cracks.

  The same energy pulsed through them as it did through Sorin’s armor.

  Aeris gritted her teeth.

  That meant there was a way to cut them off.

  She just had to find it.

  But then—

  The Hollow King moved.

  For the first time, he stepped forward.

  And the world broke.

  The air fractured.

  A deep, thunderous pulse rolled outward as the Hollow King took his first step forward. The world seemed to shudder beneath him, cracks spiraling across the ground, ancient stone giving way beneath an unseen force.

  Aeris’ breath hitched.

  This wasn’t like before.

  The Hollow King had barely moved. But everything was reacting to him.

  His power wasn’t just affecting the ruins.

  It was reshaping them.

  The wraiths surrounding them twisted, their shifting forms distorting even further—some growing, others splitting into multiple figures. The city itself seemed to breathe, shadows stretching unnaturally across the walls as buildings began to contort and shift.

  Aeris clenched her sword.

  She had fought powerful enemies before. But this?

  This was different.

  She had no idea what she was even fighting.

  The Hollow King lifted his hand—

  And the city obeyed.

  A wall of force slammed into Aeris.

  She barely had time to register it before she was hurled backward, her body crashing through a crumbling pillar. Dust exploded around her. The impact knocked the air from her lungs, pain blooming across her back.

  She hit the ground hard, rolling to a stop.

  For a second, everything spun.

  Then—

  A shadow loomed over her.

  Aeris’ instincts screamed.

  She rolled—just in time.

  A massive black spear slammed into the ground where she had been, piercing deep into the stone before dissolving into smoke.

  She gasped for air, pushing herself to her feet.

  Too slow.

  The Hollow King had attacked without so much as a gesture.

  She had no time to recover.

  The Exiled One blurred past her.

  Twin blades flashed as he leaped forward, his weapons carving through the wraiths blocking their path. He didn’t hesitate. His focus was entirely on the Hollow King, his strikes aimed for the cracks glowing across Sorin’s armor.

  But the Hollow King barely seemed to notice him.

  He moved like an inevitability.

  Every attack the Exiled One made was negated before it could land.

  Stone walls rose to intercept blades. Wraiths twisted into shields. Reality itself shifted to keep him untouched.

  The Exiled One snarled. “This is impossible.”

  The Hollow King turned toward him.

  And for the first time—he spoke.

  “Fool.”

  A shockwave erupted outward.

  The Exiled One was blown back. His body slammed into the remains of a broken tower, sending shattered bricks tumbling around him.

  Aeris’ heart lurched.

  “No!”

  She barely had time to move before the Hollow King turned his attention back to her.

  His eyes—those endless voids of shifting gold and black—fixed on her.

  Aeris gritted her teeth.

  Her hands shook.

  But she refused to falter.

  I have to get through to him.

  She lunged.

  Her sword sang as it cut through the air.

  And this time—

  The Hollow King moved.

  Their blades clashed.

  And the ruins erupted around them.

  The shockwave from their clash split the air.

  Aeris felt the force rip through her arms as their blades met, the pressure threatening to tear the sword from her grip. She held on. Barely.

  The Hollow King loomed before her, his blade a weapon of sheer black void, shifting like liquid shadow, devouring the light around it.

  For the first time since this fight began—

  He looked at her.

  Truly looked at her.

  And something flickered in his expression.

  For a split second, the overwhelming force of his power stalled.

  Aeris seized the opening.

  She twisted, wrenching her sword free, and slammed her palm against his chest.

  Golden light flared from the cracks in his armor.

  The Hollow King staggered.

  Aeris felt it.

  A reaction.

  Something deep inside him resisted.

  It was Sorin.

  He was still fighting.

  She pushed harder, channeling what little magic she had, forcing her will into the cracks of his armor.

  “You are not this!” she shouted. “You are not him!”

  The Hollow King shuddered.

  For a moment, the ruins stopped shifting.

  For a moment, the wraiths flickered.

  For a moment, the city hesitated.

  And then—

  The Hollow King roared.

  A force like a storming tide exploded from him.

  Aeris was thrown skyward, her body tumbling through the air before slamming into the cracked remains of a wall.

  Her vision blurred.

  Pain lanced through her ribs as she struggled to breathe.

  And when she looked back—

  The Hollow King was no longer standing still.

  He was coming for her.

  Aeris forced herself up.

  Her whole body ached, but she couldn’t stop now.

  Her mind raced.

  She had seen something.

  For just a moment, he hesitated.

  She reached him.

  But it wasn’t enough.

  She needed more.

  The Exiled One staggered to her side, blood trailing down his arm. “Tell me you have a plan,” he gritted out.

  Aeris exhaled sharply.

  “Yes.”

  It was half a lie.

  But half a truth.

  She turned back to the Hollow King, watching the way his form flickered.

  And she finally understood.

  This wasn’t just Sorin.

  This was everything.

  The City of Ash. The souls trapped within it. The power bound to him.

  The Hollow King was never one person.

  He was a thousand voices.

  A thousand lost wills.

  And Sorin was drowning in them.

  If she wanted to save him—

  She had to break them all.

  She gripped her sword.

  Steadied herself.

  And as the Hollow King charged toward her, she whispered—

  “I’m bringing you home.”

  Then she ran to meet him.