Chapter 16: The Silence Between Screams

Aeroth did not rest.

It had always existed in a state of unrest—its streets stitched together by forgotten history, its skyline fractured beneath the weight of rewritten truths. But something about tonight felt different.

Zara could feel it in the way the shadows moved, pressing against the buildings, curling unnaturally at the edges of the alleyways. The city had changed since she had touched the Gate, since she had torn open the veil between past and present.

And now, it was reacting.

She exhaled slowly, gripping the dagger at her side. The mark on her forearm burned, not in pain, but in recognition. She wasn't meant to be here—not in this part of Aeroth, not in this moment.

But she had never been one to follow fate.

Noel moved beside her, silent but tense, his posture shifting between readiness and restraint. He had sensed the shift too—the way the air had thickened, the way the ruins whispered beneath the weight of something unseen.

"They're close," he muttered.

Zara didn't need to ask who.

She could feel them.

The Hollowed did not hunt like men did. They did not move like assassins or Circle executioners. They did not stalk their prey in a way that could be predicted.

They lingered.

Waited.

And when the time was right, they consumed.

The wind shifted, pressing cold against her skin, threading through her pulse with deliberate calculation.

"They're waiting for me," Zara murmured.

Noel tightened his grip on his blades. "Then we don't give them the chance to move first."

Zara nodded once, stepping forward. The ruins spread out ahead, vast and quiet, the remains of Aeroth's oldest structures pressing against the skyline like the remnants of a city that had never truly lived.

She had avoided this place for years.

Now, it was calling her back.

The streets narrowed, the buildings pressing inward. The silence deepened, stretching through the air like a warning.

Zara felt the change before she saw it.

The ground trembled beneath her boots—not in an earthquake, not in a collapse, but in movement.

Not above.

Below.

Noel cursed, stepping back. "Zara—"

The ruins screamed.

A crack split across the street, carving its way through stone, through history. Black veins spilled outward, curling like liquid shadow, twisting against the fractured remains of Aeroth's foundation.

Zara barely had time to react.

The Hollowed emerged.

Not through doorways.

Not through windows or alleyways.

Through the city itself.

They rose from the broken ground, crawling into existence like something torn from forgotten pages, their bodies twisting unnaturally, their faces shifting between familiarity and nothingness.

Not men.

Not creatures.

Something in between.

Zara's pulse slammed against her ribs.

Aeroth had never buried its ghosts.

It had simply given them new faces.

Noel moved first, his blades flashing, his stance sharp. He did not hesitate, did not waste time calculating. He struck cleanly, his weapons slicing through the Hollowed's shifting limbs.

His blades passed through nothing.

No blood spilled.

No bodies fell.

The Hollowed did not die.

Zara clenched her teeth, stepping back, gripping her dagger tighter.

The creatures did not advance immediately.

They waited.

Watching her.

She inhaled sharply, forcing herself to focus, forcing herself to push through the weight of what she was seeing.

They recognized her.

Not as prey.

As something else.

The mark on her arm burned hotter.

The Hollowed moved—slowly, deliberately. Not attacking. Not lunging.

Speaking.

Not in words.

Not in voices.

But in memory.

Zara staggered, her pulse stuttering, her breath catching against the weight of realization.

The Hollowed were not just ghosts.

They were echoes.

Fragments of Aeroth's erased history, crawling back into existence, trying to piece themselves together.

She had torn the veil open.

And now, the city was remembering.

Noel cursed under his breath. "Zara, whatever this is, it's not just about you anymore."

She clenched her fists, forcing herself to steady her breath, forcing herself to think.

The Hollowed were watching her.

Waiting.

And soon, they would move.

The city had awakened.

And Aeroth did not forget.

***

Zara took a slow breath, steadying her stance as the Hollowed pulsed in the ruined streets around her. They did not move like creatures of flesh and blood. They did not attack like men. They waited—watching her with faces that did not exist, bodies shifting in unnatural patterns, as if each breath they took rewrote their form.

She had seen them before.

Not here.

Not like this.

In the fracture.

In the screams that came before silence.

Noel was tense beside her, his blades still raised even though neither of them had struck yet. There was something about the way the Hollowed stared, something more than simple hunger.

"They don't want to kill you," he muttered under his breath. "They want something else."

Zara exhaled. "They want to remember."

The mark on her arm burned deeper, the warmth threading through her veins, pulsing beneath her skin like Aeroth itself was breathing through her.

She had torn open the veil.

She had made them remember.

And now, they wanted her to finish what she started.

The Hollowed moved—not forward, not closer, but around them. The ruins whispered, the air thickening with something unseen, something pressing against the edges of reality.

Zara knew this wasn't just Aeroth anymore.

This was the Gate.

Its remnants had fused with the city's bones, threading through every stone, every wall, every shadow. She had felt it ever since she had first touched the phonograph, first heard the voices that had been erased.

Aeroth wasn't dying.

Aeroth was remembering.

And remembering always came with a price.

The Hollowed parted.

Not retreating.

Revealing.

The ruins split open again—deep, dark, stretching into the earth like a wound torn into the city's foundation.

This wasn't like the fracture beneath the Singing Grave.

This was worse.

This was something new.

Noel cursed. "Zara—"

"I know."

The world had changed beneath her feet.

Not just Aeroth.

Not just the Hollowed.

But the space between history and reality, the place where forgotten things crawled back into existence.

And she was standing in the middle of it.

The Hollowed turned their faceless heads toward her, waiting.

The ruins pulsed, pushing air through the underground passage, sending fragments of dust spiraling into the sky.

Zara tightened her grip on the dagger.

Something was waiting for her below.

Something she had already seen before.

Something that had been calling her name since the beginning.

Noel reached for her arm, gripping it hard. "We don't go down there."

Zara swallowed. "We don't have a choice."

She stepped forward.

Toward the ruin.

Toward the Hollowed.

Toward the truth.

And the moment her foot touched the edge of the broken stone—

Aeroth screamed.