Echoes of the Past

Beyond Ash Canyon

Old Mill Settlement

The sigil was carved deep.

Not hastily, not by accident. It had been etched with premeditated hands, the grooves in the weathered wood pressed in like a wound that refused to heal. Perhaps a warning. A brand. A forgotten symbol of something that should have never been remembered.

Kael ran his fingers over the rough cuts, tracing the shape without fully processing down against it. The edges were uneven, yet the design was precise, curling in on itself in a pattern that felt familiar in a way that sent a slow, creeping dread into his bones.

"What do you know about it?"

The tone of the words made Kael's fingers stilled.

Arvin's voice was calm—maybe a little too calm. A deliberate attempt to keep the weight of the question light, but Kael could still feel the pressure beneath it.

He turned slightly, catching Arvin's gaze from the corner of his eye. Sharp and evaluative.

Kael pulled his hand back.

"Nothing." He said after a pause. It wasn't a lie. But, somehow, saying it felt like one.

There was another pause as Arvin studied him for a moment. Then he exhaled through his nose, as if making a silent calculation.

"Right. We need to move."

Kael didn't like the shift. It was strange and sudden.

"Move where?"

Only, Arvin was already walking, his boots crunching softly against the canyon floor, his silhouette blending into the backdrop of fractured rock and scattered debris. Finally he spoke but didn't look back when he answered.

"Somewhere safer than here."

"Safer?"

Kael frowned. That word meant different things depending on who said it. And right now, Kael wasn't convinced Arvin meant it in the way most people did.

But the sigil... the crates... the way Arvin had changed the subject instead of explaining what they meant—there were too many questions, and Kael didn't have enough answers to justify staying put.

So, for now, he followed.

****

Hollowshard Outskirts

Western Watchtower

The ruined tower breathed in the wind, its broken walls shifting with every subtle draft, releasing faint echoes of a world long lost.

Rendrik pressed himself into the shadows, controlling his breath, keeping his muscles locked tight. His body still ached from the wounds, and the deep gash along his ribs seemed to puls with every slow inhale.

He didn't move. He didn't dare.

Not with it still watching him.

Below, in the dark canyon beyond the ruined walls, the Hunter waited.

Rendrik had managed to escape from under the wrecked vehicle just in time to save himself from certain death. How he managed to make it to the Western End, was a question beyond a simple answer. Left for him to answer, he'd just chuck it up to plain luck. Regardless, the threat still loomed beneath the safety of the tower.

It had seen him enter. It knew he was inside. But instead of tearing through the rubble like any Lesser Hollow would, instead of hunting him down the moment his scent reached its twisted snout—

It stayed still.

Rendrik swallowed hard. It was a cold realization. It wasn't just waiting. It was thinking.

Then, a chill slid up his spine.

'Hollows didn't think,' so he thought.

They were mindless beasts, driven by instinct, hunger, and the corrupted remnants of whatever life they had before.

But this one?

It was patient. It knew something.

Rendrik clenched his jaw, mistakenly drawing blood, before adjusting his weight, feeling the rough stone pressing into his back. The structure wasn't stable in the slightest, and it wouldn't hold forever.

His Pyro-Restore ability had done enough of its jod to keep him conscious, but his energy was low. The flames breathing beneath his skin flickered, the embers barely holding together.

'Dammit! I need more time.'

Time that he wasn't going to get. A second later, as if mocking his resilience, a sound broke the silence.

Not from below... but from behind.

A clicking, chittering noise that drove Rendrik's entire body tensed. His gaze flicked to the vent in the far wall, but there was no threat there, right? It was barely wide enough for a person's arm to fit through.

Except, the exact moment he found a his breath, the grate started moving. Worse, it eventually bent inward.

Then came the breathing.

Not human. Not even close.

A wet, rasping exhale echoed through the metal duct like something that shouldn't have been there but was. Then the grate bent further—then it snapped loose.

A Lesser Hollow poured out, its limbs folding unnaturally as it forced itself inside.

Then another.

Then another.

Their bodies weren't built for this. Their hollowed-out torsos scraped against the stone, stretching and contorting as they clawed their way into the room.

Rendrik's stomach had dropped long before that happened, but only now did he feel it.

His hand went to his side instinctively, a rehearsed, perhaps, conditioned reflex.

Then—the first one lunged.

****

Beyond Ash Canyon

Unknown location

The entrance was nearly invisible.

A hatch, half-buried beneath a slope of jagged rocks, stood rusted at the edges but still solid. Too solid. The kind of thing you'd only notice if you were looking for it.

Kael noted the oddity, but hesitated to inquire.

Arvin knelt beside it. His fingers were moving with the ease of habit as he worked a hidden latch along the rim. A few moments later, the mechanism clicked softly. Kael had to cover his eyes on account of the dust spilling from the sides as the hatch creaked open.

'This isn't a last-minute escape route. This is a place that's still in use. Maintained.'

Kael folded his arms at the thought. Then his voice came edged with suspicion.

"You sure don't look like the kind of guy who should have a secret bunker in the middle of nowhere."

Arvin smirked, but it lacked the humor.

"That's the point, kid."

The air inside the bunker was thick—stale with time, yet meticulously preserved. The kind of silence that wasn't empty, but full of things left unsaid.

Kael stepped in carefully, and instantly, his eyes began sweeping across the small space.

Metal walls, reinforced. Old but functional equipment—a backup generator, a small console with an outdated yet operational interface, a steel table pushed against the far wall, next to a set of filing cabinets that had no business being in a place like this.

The walls were lined with outdated surveillance monitors, some still flickering with static images of unknown locations.

"You live here?"

Arvin closed the hatch behind them with a soft metallic groan.

"Not exactly. More like... visit."

Kael's unease deepened.

"And why, exactly, does a city worker need a bunker?"

Arvin didn't answer. Instead, he walked to the metal table, pulled open a drawer, and withdrew a single, battered folder. He placed it down with precision.

It was not just a file... but a weight. A truth. A loaded weapon waiting to be fired, it seemed.

"What do you know about the sigil?" He asked, but it felt like a statement to Kael.

The young D-Class frowned. Somehow the air felt colder. His fingers hovered over the folder before he looked back up at Arvin.

"What does this have to do with si—"

His words died the moment he saw it. The photo clipped to the first page. A face he had never forgotten.

His father. His mother. Side by side. Frozen in time.

Kael's heart slowed, and the pressure building in his chest reached his temples.

'What is this? How did you get this?' His voice was a strained whisper.

However, Arvin's expression darkened, but not a single word left his lips.

"What does the sigil have to do with them?"

Still, Arvin's expression didn't shift. But this time—he spoke.

"That depends," he said, his voice measured. "What do you know about your parents' deaths?"

****

Meanwhile, Rendrik was worse off. The first Hollow had moved faster than he expected.

Rendrik twisted, barely avoiding the swipe of its jagged claws. From the corner of his eye, he saw the air tear apart where he had just been.

His instincts took over, and his palm ignited, sending flames bursting to life as he drove his hand into the creature's chest.

Fire roared, and the Hollow screeched, flailing as its body collapsed inward, charred and burning from the inside out.

But the others didn't hesitate. Another rushed from the side. And it was fast. Too fast.

Claws raked against his shoulder—not deep, but enough to draw blood.

Rendrik hissed, staggering back as a third one leapt forward. He barely caught its attack with a swing of his burning fist, the flames spreading across its skull, but it wasn't enough. Worse, the others were closing in.

His body was slower than it should have been. Aside from the absence of the Hollow Sun, his wounds weren't yet healed. He was too weak. His Pyro-Restore wasn't fast enough.

And to make matter even worse, his vision blurred for a second—just a second—but in that time, another Hollow reached him. Teeth snapped for his throat. But Rendrik threw himself sideways, slamming into a cracked pillar as the creature's jaws missed him by a hair.

'There's no way i can keep this up!'

His thoughts moved fast as he began scanning his surroundings. He needed space.

'The ledge!'

His eyes flicked toward the crumbling outer wall. The drop wasn't clean, but it was better than being torn apart.

His breath steadied before he had the chance to force it to.

Then—he ran.

The Lesser Hollows screeched, clawing after him, but he was already moving.

His foot hit the edge—

And then he launched himself off, landing hard on the stone below.

The last thing he heard was the sound of the tower collapsing behind him. Even then, he still hadn't forgot about the Hunter.

But it never moved.

Not once.

Even as the Lesser Hollows were crushed beneath the rubble, it only watched.

In that moment, Rendrik knew, with absolute certainty, that it had let him go.

****

Back at the bunker, Kael's gaze was locked in plaxe as his hands hovered over the file. His vision blurred as he reread the same words.

Over. And over.

Subject: Commander Elias Solis

Status: Terminated

Subject: Dr. Marianne Solis

Status: Terminated

Kael felt the ground tilt beneath him. It wasn't possible. It couldn't be possible.

"No." His own voice sounded distant. "That's not…"

He a single tear fell down his hardened face as he clenched his fists, deliberately drawing blood as he forced his nails into his palm. The pain was intended to relieve his thoughts, but it failed.

'My father. Mother. They died in battle. They died heroes. That's the truth.'

That was what they had told him.

Arvin wasn't looking at him. His expression was unreadable, and his gaze was locked on something distant—something old.

"The government didn't let them die in battle."

Kael felt something cold wrap around his ribs, but he let Arvin continue, and his voice was steady.

"They executed them."

Kael's pulse slammed against his skull. Everything felt unstable, like the ground beneath his feet teetered on a single plank. The walls of the bunker felt too close. The air too thick.

His mother's eyes stared back at him from the faded photograph, frozen in time. He was finally realizing it. He had spent his entire life believing a lie.

Something inside him—something fundamental—snapped. Then, before he snapped completely—

The bunker's security alarm blared.

A warning siren cut through the silence, then red lights started flickering against the metal walls. Bending the already ominous shadows even more, making them look as if they were moving.

Kael and Arvin both turned toward the entrance, where a low mechanical voice seem to echoed into the room.

"Intrusion detected."

Kael's breath slowed.

Someone was coming.