“Well, well…” the man said with a wide grin as he settled into the chair across from Hollow. “The Lord of the Abyss himself. My, how far you’ve fallen.”

  Hollow raised his head slowly, eyes narrowed in confusion and growing anger.

  “Who are you?” he asked, his voice low and tense. “How do you know who I am?”

  The man smiled—a knowing smile, like he’d been waiting for this moment.

  “Call me Nick. And of course I know who you are. One day you’re ruling over shadows as a feared Abyssal, and now? You’re shackled in a metal box, at the mercy of humans. Funny how life works, isn’t it? Though… I suppose this is your first time actually living it.”

  Hollow’s eyes darkened. “I don’t understand. Why am I in this human body? I’m the opposite of a human.”

  Nick crossed his legs, lounging casually as if they were talking in a café.

  “Well, that’s the thing. In this world, Abyssals don’t exist. So to function here, your essence had to… adapt. You’ve been, let’s say, humanized.”

  “Humanized,” Hollow repeated, spitting the word like poison. “That’s absurd. I would never—”

  Nick raised a gloved hand calmly, cutting him off. “Easy. I get that it’s a lot. But let me make it simple: you’re not in the Spiritual World anymore. This is the human world. No spirits, no hunters, no wars. Just... people. Like you now.”

  Disbelief twisted across Hollow’s face, slowly giving way to quiet fury.

  “Why am I here? What’s the point of this?”

  “That,” Nick said, resting his chin on one hand, “is the million-dollar question. What I can tell you is this—your actions, and Liliane’s, pushed the Spiritual World too far out of balance. So now, here you are. Just another soul among billions.”

  In another room, under the flicker of soft fluorescent light, Liliane sat with her hands folded in her lap.

  The air was sterile. Quiet.

  “Liliane, Liliane,” Nick’s voice echoed with playful rhythm as he entered, like he was reciting an old tale. “The poor heroine of humanity, now trapped in a mortal shell. Isn’t life hilarious sometimes?”

  Liliane stood abruptly, alarm sharpening her voice.

  “You… you know who I am?”

  “Of course,” he said with that same disarming calm. “One of the strongest Blinders to ever walk the Spiritual World. But that was when you were spirit. Now, you’re just Liliane. A human.”

  Her expression twisted—confusion, fear, disbelief all blending at once.

  “This isn’t possible… What happened to me? Where are we?”

  Nick tilted his head, his smile still polite—but unmistakably mocking.

  “Nothing to fear. You’re in the human world. Think of it as the other side of the Spiritual World. The chaos of the past few centuries caused quite the cosmic backlash. Let’s just say, your presence was no longer… accepted. So you were sent here. In a human body. To fit in.”

  He paused, watching her stagger under the weight of the truth.

  “And the most important thing you need to know is—this world has no Abyssals. No spirits. No monsters. Here, people live differently. They go to work. Study. Spend time in cities, in houses, with technology… all the simple things.”

  Liliane blinked rapidly, struggling to keep up.

  “But… how am I supposed to live like this without my powers?”

  Nick leaned in slightly, offering a patient smile.

  “I understand your concern. But there’s a faster way for you to learn everything you need.”

  He gestured toward the door.

  A figure entered silently—a tall woman with violet hair, glasses that reflected the light in an unreadable shine, and a long coat draped like a shadow around her.

  “This is Miram,” Nick said. “She’ll help upload everything you need to know. It won’t hurt. I promise.”

  Without a word, Miram stepped forward and gently placed a small device against Liliane’s temple.

  In an instant, information flooded her mind—concepts, systems, technologies, economies, cities, social dynamics. Everything about modern human life surged into her brain like a river bursting through a dam.

  Back in Hollow’s room, the tone had shifted.

  “This is the human world…” he muttered, brows furrowed. “But that doesn’t make sense. I shouldn’t be here. I can’t be here.”

  Nick, still seated comfortably, nodded with a sigh.

  “I know it’s hard to accept. But don’t worry. I’ve prepared something for you.”

  He gestured.

  Miram entered once more, silent and efficient. She placed the same device on Hollow’s head.

  Knowledge poured in.

  Jobs. Families. Media. Phones. Societies built on money, law, convenience. No war. No devouring. No endless hunger. No strength.

  Only… living.

  As the data transfer finished, both Hollow and Liliane sat in heavy silence—each struggling to process the weight of what they’d just learned.

  Liliane gripped the arms of her chair, breathing unsteadily, her mind reeling.

  “This… this is too much,” she whispered, eyes fixed on the floor. “I can’t be just… human. I need my powers. I have to protect everyone.”

  Nick nodded, sympathetic yet composed. “I know. But the only way back to the Spiritual World is to live a complete human life. If you can find peace and fulfillment here, your soul will naturally transcend back. Force your return before then, and you could damage your essence permanently—maybe even lose your chance to ever go back.”

  Liliane looked up at him, eyes wide with fear. “What if I can’t do it? What if I fail?”

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  “You don’t have to decide that today,” he said gently. “Just take the first step.”

  Meanwhile, Hollow sat stiffly across from Nick, his expression carved in stone as conflicting emotions battled inside him.

  “This is ridiculous,” Hollow muttered. “Live like a human? After centuries of devouring them, you expect me to become one of them?”

  Nick leaned forward, elbows on the table, calm as ever. “It sounds absurd. I agree. But let me ask you something—do you still feel that hunger? That endless void that drove you to kill without pause?”

  Hollow’s mouth opened… then closed.

  He searched inside himself.

  It wasn’t gone entirely, but the agony—the all-consuming need—was silent.

  Weakened. Muted.

  He still felt hunger, but it was shallow. Mundane. No longer the gnawing abyss that had ruled his existence.

  Nick saw the hesitation in his eyes and smiled. “Exactly. That torment isn’t there anymore. Your instincts have changed. You’re not a slave to the Abyss here.”

  He gave a nod to Miram, who stepped forward with a tray and silently placed it on the table. A steaming hamburger sat neatly in the center.

  “I thought you might be curious,” Nick said. “Try it. You might be surprised.”

  Hollow glared at it warily, but the scent hit him hard—rich, savory, intoxicating. His stomach growled.

  Cautiously, he picked it up.

  One bite. Then another.

  The flavor shocked him—not in intensity, but in complexity. It didn’t bring dominance, didn’t flood him with power. But… it was satisfying. Simple. Real.

  By the time he realized what was happening, the food was gone, and he sat back in silence, breathing deeply as a strange, foreign feeling settled into his body.

  Fullness.

  Nick smiled. “See? Maybe it’s not so bad. You’ve just experienced something new—and not unpleasant. That’s what being human is. And if you keep exploring, who knows? You might even enjoy it.”

  Hollow didn’t respond. He wasn’t sure what to feel. His pride still bristled—but something deep inside was shifting.

  A flicker of curiosity. A strange awareness.

  Nick placed a sleek smartphone on the table in front of him.

  “This will help,” he said. “Do you know what it is?”

  Hollow stared at it, drawing on the knowledge Miram had uploaded moments before. “A phone. Used for communication… and other functions.”

  “Correct,” Nick nodded. “You’ll need it. It’ll be our primary method of contact. Plus, you’ll find that life here—despite its simplicity—is heavily intertwined with devices like this.”

  Hollow scowled. “Why would I need to keep in touch with you? I never agreed to participate in any of this.”

  Nick chuckled softly. “Not yet, maybe. But you’ll see. Besides, you’ve noticed, haven’t you? Human life doesn’t last forever. Most people here live around seventy years.”

  He paused, tapping the phone with a finger.

  “You arrived in a body that’s maybe twenty. That leaves you—give or take—fifty years. That’s all. Just fifty.”

  Hollow’s eyes narrowed. “Fifty years?”

  “A blink, compared to the centuries of war you’ve survived. You’ve endured longer sieges with far worse odds.”

  Hollow went quiet.

  As much as he hated it, Nick was right.

  He couldn’t refute the logic.

  Elsewhere, Liliane sat forward in her chair, still shaken.

  “Fifty years… that’s a long time. I can’t waste that much time while the people of the Spiritual World are still in danger.”

  Nick, ever patient, raised a hand to ease her worries. “I understand. But remember—time flows differently across worlds. A few years here may feel like moments there. Besides… the Spiritual World has endured worse without you. It will survive.”

  Liliane didn’t respond. Her doubts swirled, but now they were quieter. Softer. She didn’t want to believe him—but she also didn’t know how to prove him wrong.

  And so, both Hollow and Liliane sat on opposite sides of a fate neither had chosen. Stripped of power. Stranded in an unfamiliar world. Vulnerable, confused, and alone.

  Whatever they believed, whatever they resisted—there was no going back.

  Not yet.

  They had only one option left:

  To live.

  And see if this strange, fleeting world of humans held anything worth staying for.

  The city shimmered under a blanket of nighttime lights. Towering skyscrapers loomed like giants, their windows glowing with the pulse of urban life. From a distance, the streets resembled rivers of light, packed with cars and people moving in all directions, each carrying their own story, their own fate.

  Liliane walked along the sidewalk, guided by the instructions on her phone. She still felt overwhelmed by everything that had happened in the last few hours. The events blurred together like fragments of a dream—the data transfer, Nick's explanations, and the dizzying realization that she now lived in a world both foreign and oddly familiar.

  "Hollow..." she thought suddenly. "I forgot to ask about Hollow..." A pang of guilt twisted in her chest. She had let the opportunity slip away. But before she could dwell on it, the roar of a bus engine snapped her back to the present.

  "Oh no!" she gasped, rushing forward and nearly stumbling as she climbed aboard. She made it just in time, heart pounding from both the sprint and her inner turmoil. Using her phone to pay, she stared in awe at how effortless the process was. Everything here was so different from the world she knew.

  Collapsing into a seat, she looked out the window, taking in the urban sprawl: tall buildings, neon lights, people walking calmly down the sidewalks. It was peaceful—so different from the chaos and conflict that had filled her life until now.

  "Incredible..." she whispered. "Humans are incredible when they're not under threat." Cities thrived. People moved with purpose. Life continued without the shadow of Abyssals. Liliane felt small beneath the vastness of human civilization, yet a spark of hope flickered in her heart. Maybe, just maybe, this world could offer more than eternal conflict.

  Meanwhile, Hollow had also left his interrogation room. Hands in his pockets, face tense, he walked through the city guided by the same kind of phone. Every step felt heavy, weighed down by unfamiliarity.

  He looked around, eyes narrowing at the crowds. People moved through their routines, laughing, distracted, blissfully unaware of his presence. It was unsettling. He felt like an intruder, like everyone could see what he really was—a monster in human skin.

  "Why am I doing this?" he wondered. "Can I really accept this as my reality?" Nick's words echoed in his mind—how the hunger was gone, how his instincts had changed.

  It was true. The endless void that had once consumed him was quiet. He still felt hunger, but it was mild. Manageable. Human.

  The city smelled different—grilled food from street vendors, rain on concrete, mingling perfumes. It was chaos. But part of him was curious. Drawn in.

  "Try living. Find purpose. Experience this life," Nick had said. If he refused... what else was there? Oblivion? Emptiness?

  He turned a corner and stopped in front of a tall building. His reflection shimmered in the glass windows. According to the phone, this was his new "home."

  Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the apartment key and stared at it for a long moment. Then he stepped inside.

  In a different point in the city, Liliane stood in front of a similar building, her own phone leading her there. She paused before entering, drawing in a deep breath. This was only the beginning. But it already felt like too much.

  Her thoughts drifted to Hollow—his whereabouts, his possible schemes.

  Back, Hollow unlocked his apartment door and stepped inside. The space was modest, but clean. Warm. Real.

  A small kitchen gleamed under artificial light. A wooden table stood beside a couch. A window opened to a quiet street bathed in amber glow. It was the first time he'd seen a human home like this—not torn apart by battle, not reduced to ashes.

  He wandered inside, stopping at the bed. The soft blankets, the inviting pillows. Strange.

  "So... this is what it means to live like a human," he muttered. He pulled off the remnants of his old robes and let them fall onto a nearby chair. Then he laid down, and for the first time in his long existence, felt the pull of genuine fatigue. Not spiritual exhaustion—but the weariness of a body that had experienced, felt, endured.

  His eyes closed slowly, and the darkness came gently.

  Across the city, Liliane shut her apartment door behind her. The layout mirrored Hollow's—basic, clean, livable. She touched the surface of the table, the cool steel of the refrigerator, the soft fabric of the couch.

  Her room waited quietly. As she entered, she felt her body growing heavier. She sat on the bed, then let herself fall backward onto the mattress, her breath catching.

  "How am I supposed to adapt to all this?" she whispered.

  She stared at the ceiling, heart beating slow and steady. There was so much she didn’t know. So much she had to understand.

  But as the rhythm of the city faded into the background, she felt something rare: peace.

  She finally laid on her bed.

  Her thoughts returned to Hollow.

  Wherever you are... I’ll find you.

  With that final vow, her thoughts faded into sleep.

  Both of them, in their quiet apartments, lay still beneath the soft blanket of a peaceful night—each unaware of how close they were.

  Each unaware that their story, far from ending, had only just begun.