Chapter 10: The Hollow Reaches Open

The sky over the Hollow Reaches did not brighten with dawn. Instead, a pale, sickly hue painted the heavens—a gray so deep it felt wet to the skin, like breath held too long. No birds stirred. No wind danced. The world itself had taken a pause, bracing for something older than memory.

Rael stood at the center of the ruined shrine, his gaze cast downward. Beneath the cracked stone lay the remnants of the summoning circle, its glyphs fading into ash. Yet the power remained. It was not just residual—it was watching.

Aelthaea emerged from the mist. "I traced the runes again. They were modified after the Binder's seal was placed. Someone tampered with the prison."

Rael didn't look up. "Recently?"

"No," she said. "Decades ago. But it was meant to reactivate now. The timing wasn't coincidence."

Selene dropped down beside them, brushing dried blood from her coat. "Meaning someone planned for you to come here, Rael. And for that thing to wake up the moment you did."

Caelaris tightened the straps of her gauntlet. "Which means our enemy isn't the Binder. It's whoever knew how to lure a demigod."

Rael finally spoke. "The Dormant Court."

The name hung heavy in the air.

Selene scoffed. "They were wiped out. Disbanded. Hunted."

"Fragments remain," Aelthaea said, crossing her arms. "And those fragments hold keys to the deeper seals—like this one."

The stone beneath Rael's feet shifted.

They turned as a low groan echoed from below. A crack formed across the base of the shrine, splitting the summoning circle completely. From within, a column of mist spiraled upward, then dispersed into shapes—vague silhouettes, whispers given form.

One stepped forward.

Not a person. A memory.

Rael narrowed his eyes. "Projection?"

The figure bowed its head. "Child of shadow and flame, your path was never your own. The Abyss bore you to tear the veil."

"Who are you?" Rael asked.

"I am the Echo of the Sealed," it said. "Left behind when my masters fell. The Reaches are no longer a prison—they are a cradle. And the one within is waking."

The mist swirled violently. The memory dissolved.

Suddenly, the cracked stone beneath them shattered completely.

The earth split open.

From the fissure came not just heat, but a pulse. A beat. Like a heart, buried too deep. One that had not thudded in eons. Black roots broke through stone, slick with ichor. Glyphs etched in unknown tongues glowed faintly as the roots twitched and expanded.

Aelthaea's eyes widened. "It's not just something sealed. It's alive."

Rael stepped forward. "Then I speak to it."

Caelaris grabbed his shoulder. "You don't know what it is."

"I know what I'm not," Rael said. "Afraid."

He descended into the breach.

The tunnel beneath the shrine was not natural. It had been carved by will alone. Smooth walls curved like bone, each step echoing with an unnatural rhythm. Torches sparked to life as Rael passed, responding to his divine presence.

At the heart of the descent, he found it.

A chamber of black stone, shaped like an inverted star.

In its center was a cocoon—a shell of woven glyphs, chains, and rootlike veins pulsing slowly with crimson light. Whatever lay inside had not yet awakened fully.

Rael approached.

The pulse quickened.

From the cocoon came a voice—female, low and quiet, but clear.

"So… you are the heir of flame."

"I am Rael Vayashura," he said. "And you are?"

The cocoon trembled.

"I am what they feared. What they bled to forget. I am the Womb of Endings."

Rael didn't flinch. "Then why speak to me?"

"Because," the voice said, "you broke their lock. You carry their last mistake."

Chains rattled. The cocoon cracked slightly, a single golden eye opening in the center of the glyph-web.

Rael felt pressure mount around him, but he held firm.

"I did not come to serve," he said. "I came to choose."

The voice laughed—a sound like thunder beneath silk. "Then choose wisely. For when I rise, the world will reshape around those who dared to reach beneath the throne."

Above, the shrine shook.

And far away, in cities that had forgotten the Hollow Reaches even existed, the stars above shifted.

Back at the surface, the atmosphere thickened. Selene, Caelaris, and Aelthaea stood at the edge of the shattered shrine, watching the breach pulse with rising light.

"It's not over," Selene said quietly.

"Nothing ever is," Caelaris replied.

Aelthaea stepped to the edge. Her hand trembled—not with fear, but memory. "I recognize that voice. From before the fall. From before the wars. The Womb wasn't a prisoner. She was a weapon... sealed because the Pantheon couldn't kill her."

Selene turned sharply. "You mean she's one of the Primordials?"

"No," Aelthaea whispered. "Worse. She was made to end them."

The wind changed. From the breach came not noise, but silence so deep it felt like gravity. Trees leaned inward. The air bent around the shrine.

Rael emerged from the chasm.

His eyes were calm, but his aura was sharp enough to slice the sky.

"We leave," he said.

Aelthaea's lips parted. "You spoke to her?"

Rael nodded. "And she will wake."

"Then what do we do?" Selene asked.

Rael looked to the east, where dark clouds gathered—not weather, but omen.

"We go to the next seal," he said. "Before the others break themselves."

The group moved out. Behind them, the Hollow Reaches groaned. Stone folded in on itself. The shrine collapsed, becoming a scar in the earth.

And deep below, a single breath stirred within the cocoon.

The Womb of Endings… dreamed.