Chapter 27: The Hollow King's Gambit

The air was thick with the scent of blood and burning wood. Screams echoed in the distance, mixing with the clash of steel against steel. Caius moved through the battlefield, his breathing steady, his grip firm on the hilt of his blade. He had seen this moment before, in visions scattered across time, yet standing in it felt different—more real, more suffocating.

Selene fought beside him, her movements swift and precise. Every enemy that lunged at her fell before her daggers could gleam in the torchlight. Elias was on the other side, cutting through the Hollow King's soldiers with ruthless efficiency. The rebels pressed forward, a tide of resistance breaking against the fortress of the Hollow King's forces.

"We need to push forward!" Elias shouted over the noise. "The gates won't hold for long!"

Caius didn't hesitate. He raised his hand, letting the flow of time bend to his will. The world slowed, the enemies before him frozen in place. He dashed through them, cutting them down before they could react. The moment his power faded, their bodies collapsed, blood painting the cobblestone beneath his feet.

"Go!" Selene called out, already moving toward the palace steps. Caius followed, his heart hammering against his chest. He could feel it now—the weight of something pulling him forward, something inevitable. The throne room awaited, and with it, the truth he had been running from.

They reached the great doors of the palace, looming like the maw of a beast waiting to devour them. The massive iron gates were partially ajar, broken by the force of the siege, and through the gap, Caius could see flickering torchlight illuminating the vast, empty hall within. Beyond that was darkness.

The rebels stormed through the doors, their footsteps echoing off the cold stone. The palace, once a monument to the Hollow King's power, was eerily silent. No guards stood to defend it. No servants scurried in fear. Only the distant flicker of torches remained, as if the walls themselves held their breath.

Caius felt a shiver run down his spine. "Something's wrong."

Selene wiped blood from her blade, eyes scanning the shadows. "It's too easy."

Elias tightened his grip on his weapon. "It's a trap."

A heavy boom sounded behind them. The doors, once cracked open, slammed shut with unnatural force. The torches flickered, and then, one by one, they were snuffed out.

Darkness swallowed them whole.

Caius's breath hitched. He focused, pushing time forward in his mind, forcing his vision to stretch beyond the present, beyond the suffocating blackness. But something pushed back. A force stronger than his own. A will greater than time itself.

Then, from the void, golden eyes emerged.

The Hollow King sat upon his throne, unmoving, watching them as if he had been expecting their arrival. His form was shrouded in darkness, as if the very shadows bent around him, refusing to reveal his true shape. His golden eyes burned with something ancient, something beyond mere mortality.

"You are persistent," the Hollow King murmured. His voice was not loud, but it filled the chamber, reverberating through the very bones of the palace. "But you are not yet ready."

Caius clenched his fists. "Then make me ready."

The Hollow King slowly stood. Power radiated from him, thick and suffocating, pressing down like the weight of centuries. His presence alone made the walls shudder, the very air crackling with unseen energy. This was not a man. Not a king.

This was something more.

The floor trembled. The darkness shifted. And then, the world shattered.

Time unraveled around Caius, and for the briefest moment, he saw everything. The past, the future—countless versions of himself, walking different paths, making different choices. In some, he stood victorious. In others, he was a puppet on the Hollow King's throne. In too many, he was nothing but a corpse, lifeless and forgotten.

Pain seared through him as the visions tore at his mind, and he barely registered the distant sound of Selene shouting his name. He hit the ground hard, gasping for breath.

The Hollow King stepped forward, the echoes of time swirling around him like a storm. He extended a hand toward Caius, palm open.

"Come, child of time," he said. "Let me show you what you were meant to be."

Caius's heart pounded. He wanted to move, to fight, but his body felt heavy. He could feel it—the pull of something vast, something inevitable.

But then, a sharp pain jolted him back to reality. A hand on his shoulder, firm and grounding. Selene.

"You are not his," she hissed.

Caius gritted his teeth. No. He would not fall here. He would not let time decide his fate.

He shoved against the weight pressing down on him, his power flaring to life once more. Time fractured again, but this time, he was in control.

With a roar, he surged forward, blade drawn, and for the first time, the Hollow King smiled.

But the Hollow King did not move. He remained still as Caius struck, the blade cutting through the dark air where he had stood—only to find nothing there.

Caius barely had time to react before something hit him in the chest with the force of a thousand storms. He flew backward, crashing into the stone floor, the breath ripped from his lungs.

The Hollow King stepped forward once more, now standing over him. "Power is meaningless without understanding," he said. "Do you truly think you are strong enough to wield time itself?"

Caius coughed, his body aching, but he forced himself to stand. "I don't need to be strong," he said, wiping blood from his mouth. "I just need to keep moving forward."

The Hollow King watched him for a moment, then chuckled. "Foolish," he said. "But perhaps… not entirely hopeless."

A gust of wind tore through the chamber as the Hollow King raised a hand, and suddenly, Caius felt it—time itself bending, warping, twisting. It was not his power now. It was the Hollow King's. And in an instant, reality shattered again.

Caius blinked, and suddenly, he was not in the throne room anymore. He was somewhere else—somewhen else.

The world around him was bathed in golden light, stretching endlessly in all directions. Time had no meaning here. He turned and saw himself—versions of him, flickering like ghosts, each walking different paths, each making different choices.

And standing at the center of it all was the Hollow King.

"This," the Hollow King said, gesturing at the endless sea of time, "is your true prison."

Caius clenched his fists, staring into the abyss of possibilities. He would not be trapped here. He would find a way out.

And he would win.