Chapter 15: Echoes of the Forgotten Streets

The night hung heavy over the ruined city, the distant echoes of shifting stone and hollow winds whispering through the abandoned streets. The towering remnants of forgotten spires loomed like skeletal fingers, their broken edges reaching toward the swirling abyss of the sky. Beneath their shadows, Zereth moved, his steps soundless against the cracked pavement, his presence barely more than a flicker in the endless void.

Kainon walked beside him, his expression unreadable, though his silver-streaked hair glowed faintly under the fractured moonlight. They had left the safety of the Hollow Seekers' hideout behind, venturing deeper into the heart of the ruined metropolis. Here, the air felt thick with something unseen—memories, perhaps, or something far worse.

"These streets," Kainon finally said, breaking the long silence, "used to be filled with life."

Zereth said nothing, only watching as Kainon's gaze swept over the wreckage of a world long forgotten. He could sense something beneath the man's words—a weight, an old grief buried beneath layers of time.

"This city was once a refuge," Kainon continued. "For those who sought knowledge… for those who tried to defy the laws of the gods." He exhaled sharply, almost bitterly. "And this is what remains of them."

Zereth's eyes flickered toward the shadows between the ruined buildings. There was something there—watching. Not a presence, not a sound, but an absence, a void in reality itself. His grip tightened unconsciously.

"They failed," Kainon murmured, his voice lower now. "And the gods made sure no one would ever remember them."

The Hollow Streets Awaken

Zereth's senses sharpened. A faint tremor pulsed beneath his feet, subtle but undeniable. Kainon noticed it, too, his stance shifting slightly as his hand drifted toward the hilt of a concealed weapon.

"They know we're here," Kainon muttered.

Zereth didn't need to ask who they were.

A flicker of movement. A distortion in the air. Then—nothing.

The Hollow Seekers had spoken of them in hushed tones. Remnants. Echoes of those who had once walked these streets. Beings who had been consumed by the city's curse, their forms stripped away until all that remained was the hunger.

They did not exist in the same way mortals did. They were fragments of something lost—wandering, aimless, drawn to the ember that burned within him.

Kainon's voice was calm but firm. "We need to move."

Zereth took a step forward. The air seemed to ripple around him, as if reality itself was hesitant to acknowledge his presence.

Then—

A hollow wail.

Not a sound, but the absence of one.

The street darkened, the light of the distant moon swallowed whole. The creatures emerged, shifting between existence and nonexistence, their bodies half-formed, their limbs stretched and distorted like the unfinished remnants of something that had once been human.

They hungered.

Zereth exhaled, feeling the ember within him stir. The weight of Nyx pressed against his mind, the silence creeping at the edges of his perception.

The creatures lunged.

Zereth reacted on instinct, stepping back as the air around him warped, his presence slipping into the unseen folds of reality. The Hollow Seekers' forms flickered, phasing in and out of existence, their limbs twisting unnaturally as they reached for him.

He felt it then—the pull of Nyx.

For a brief moment, the world forgot him.

The creatures' hollow eyes passed over him, their movements faltering as if sensing a sudden void where he had stood moments before. It was a sensation he was still learning to control—his power not just erasing sound, but making him an anomaly even to existence itself.

Kainon moved beside him, drawing a curved blade that shimmered faintly in the dim light. "They don't feel pain. And they don't stop," he warned, his tone steady despite the growing tension.

Zereth watched as the creatures hesitated for only a second before reforming—this time, their movements sharper, more precise.

They were learning.

Zereth's grip tightened. The ember within him pulsed, and instinct took over. His fingers curled, and for the first time, Severis responded.

The first strike was silent.

The Hollow Seeker in front of him froze mid-motion. There was no wound. No impact. Just absence—a severing that defied comprehension.

Then, the creature shuddered.

And it was gone.

Not killed. Not destroyed. Simply... erased.

The remaining Seekers recoiled, their distorted forms writhing as if suddenly aware of the danger before them.

Kainon exhaled, his grip on his blade tightening. "I don't know what you just did," he admitted, "but do it again."

A pulse of silence rippled through the air.

Zereth felt it—a presence woven into the fabric of his being, neither physical nor entirely immaterial. It was not fire, nor shadow, nor void, yet it consumed sound, space, and thought as effortlessly as night swallowing the fading glow of dusk.

Nyx was not an element. It was an absence.

When it awoke within him, the world changed.

The sounds of the Hollow Seekers' distorted wails vanished, the distant howl of the wind ceased, and even his own breath seemed to dissolve into nothingness. The very concept of noise unraveled at his command, leaving only a vacuum of pure stillness.

Yet, it was more than mere silence.

Nyx erased perception itself.

The Hollow Seekers faltered. Their malformed heads twitched, their limbs moving erratically as if trying to grasp something that was no longer there. Their hollow eyes scanned the air blindly, unable to register Zereth's existence.

For that brief moment, he did not exist within their reality.

The silence was suffocating, absolute. Even Kainon, standing mere feet away, shuddered as if he, too, had been touched by something unnatural. His lips moved, forming words, but no sound reached Zereth's ears.

Then—the void recoiled.

Nyx withdrew, and reality snapped back into place with a distorted rush of sound. The Seekers screamed—a fractured, hollow shriek of rage and fear. They knew now.

They feared him.

Zereth exhaled slowly, his ember burning steady within his chest. He was beginning to understand. Nyx was not merely silence—it was the unraveling of presence itself.

And if he could control it…

The battle had already changed.

The moment Nyx receded, the Hollow Seekers reacted. No longer blind to his presence, they surged forward with newfound desperation, their forms twisting unnaturally as they closed the distance.

Zereth's grip on Severis tightened. The blade was weightless in his grasp, its existence barely acknowledged by reality itself—just like him.

He moved.

The first Seeker lunged, its elongated claws stretching forward in a blur of warped motion. Zereth stepped sideways, but his body flickered instead of shifting—his form bending between space and absence.

Before the creature could react, Severis cut through the air.

No resistance. No impact.

The Seeker ceased to exist.

Kainon's blade clashed against another, his movements precise but edged with effort. His weapon—though forged in a time before the fall of this city—was bound by the laws of steel. He cut, severed, but his enemies bled nothing.

"Zereth!" Kainon called out, barely dodging a sweeping strike from one of the Seekers. "Whatever that ability is—you need to end this. Now."

Zereth understood.

His gaze lifted. There were too many. Dozens of them. More than they could cut down one by one. And as long as they remained tethered to this place, they would never stop coming.

The ember within him burned hotter.

Nyx stirred.

Zereth raised his free hand, and the world fell silent once more.

But this time, it wasn't just sound that faded.

The Hollow Seekers froze.

Their twisted forms flickered, their hunger momentarily forgotten as their very connection to existence frayed at the edges.

Zereth took a slow breath.

Then, he willed them to be gone.

A single step forward—and the veil of silence collapsed inward.

The Hollow Seekers did not scream. They did not resist. They simply... vanished.

Where there had been an army of phantoms, only the empty streets remained.

Zereth lowered his hand, exhaling as Nyx settled back into dormancy. His control was still rough—unstable. But for now, the fight was over.

Kainon let out a breath of his own, rolling his shoulder as he sheathed his blade. His gaze lingered on Zereth for a long moment before he finally spoke.

"That… was terrifying."

Zereth didn't answer. He simply stared at the empty streets.

The Hollow City was waking up.

And this battle was only the beginning.

The silence that followed was heavier than before. The Hollow Seekers were gone, erased from existence as if they had never been. Yet, Zereth knew—this city remembered.

He could feel it beneath his feet. The ruins were more than stone and dust; they carried the weight of something ancient, something that pulsed faintly beneath the surface. His power—Nyx—had not merely erased the Hollow Seekers.

It had stirred something deeper.

Zereth turned to Kainon, who was still watching him, his expression unreadable. The flickering embers of the scattered torches cast long shadows across his face, highlighting the tension in his gaze.

"That ability of yours…" Kainon began, pausing as if choosing his words carefully. "It doesn't just kill, does it?"

Zereth said nothing. He wasn't sure how to answer.

Kainon exhaled through his nose, rubbing the back of his neck. "I've seen many kinds of power, but this…" His eyes drifted toward the empty space where the Seekers had been moments ago. "They didn't even leave remains. It's as if the world itself forgot them."

Zereth finally spoke, his voice quieter than before. "Nyx does not destroy." His own words felt foreign, as if he was only now beginning to understand the truth. "It… removes."

Kainon's eyes darkened slightly. "And you can control it?"

A pause.

"I'm learning," Zereth admitted.

Kainon didn't seem comforted by that answer, but he nodded anyway. "Then let's make sure you learn fast."

He gestured for Zereth to follow. The battle was over, but they had no time to linger. If the city was awakening, they needed to move before something worse found them.

They walked in silence through the fractured streets, the broken towers looming overhead. The deeper they ventured, the more Zereth felt it—the city itself watching.

Faded murals lined the walls of the ruined corridors, depicting stories that time had nearly erased. Some showed figures reaching toward the sky, while others depicted monstrous beings clawing their way out of the depths. It was history written in stone—but much of it had been deliberately defaced.

Zereth stopped in front of one such mural, his gaze lingering on what remained of the image. A towering figure stood at the center, shrouded in radiant light. Above its head, a symbol had been carved—the same symbol he had glimpsed in the depths of the Crucible.

Kainon followed his gaze. "Whatever truth this city once held… someone didn't want it to be remembered." He ran his fingers over the damaged stone. "The gods have buried many secrets, Zereth. We're walking through one of them."

The ember within Zereth pulsed, as if in recognition. The Forge was connected to this place—to everything.

Before he could dwell on it further, Kainon tensed beside him.

"Something's coming."

Zereth turned, his senses sharpening.

In the distance, beyond the collapsed ruins, a flicker of movement.

Not Hollow Seekers. Something else. Something more real.

Kainon's voice was firm. "We're not alone anymore."

Zereth didn't reply. He only watched, his ember burning quietly within his chest.

The Hollow City was no longer just a graveyard of forgotten things.

It was waking up.

And whatever had just found them… was very much alive.

End of Chapter 15.