Chapter:8 the hollow ones !!

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The forest was breathing.

Eli stumbled forward, his legs numb, his heartbeat a chaotic mess in his chest. Branches twisted in unnatural ways above him, their silhouettes carving claws against the blood-red moon. It wasn't the same forest anymore—it had changed. Warped.

No birds.

No wind.

Just… silence. And a feeling—like the trees were watching.

Eli's hand still glowed faintly, the sigil on his palm pulsing in sync with something beneath the surface of the world. Every time it beat, it felt like something inside him answered back—like a second heart. Or worse… a second mind.

He didn't know how he got back. The last thing he remembered was the scream of the Abyss, and the eye—that eye—boring into his soul.

> "The last chain is broken."

The words echoed like a curse.

Suddenly, a crack broke the silence.

Eli froze.

Another.

This time behind him.

He spun around, scanning the darkness. His breath fogged despite the unnatural warmth.

From the shadows emerged something that looked almost human.

Tall. Slender. Skin pale like wet paper stretched too tight over bones. Its eyes were hollow—literally. Just black voids sunk into its face, where sight once lived. Its jaw was unhinged, slack and twitching.

It tilted its head at him.

And then it spoke.

> "You brought the mark," it said, voice crackling like dry leaves.

"Now we are free."

Eli backed away. "What are you?"

Others appeared.

From between trees. From beneath the soil. From shadows that shouldn't have depth.

Dozens.

All with the same hollow eyes and slack jaws.

They surrounded him slowly, encircling but not attacking. As if… waiting.

> "Who are you?" he demanded.

One stepped forward.

It was a child—no older than ten. Her face was burned on one side, her arm broken and twisted the wrong way.

But she smiled.

> "We were the first," she whispered.

"We were the failed."

> "Failed… Chosen?"

She nodded.

> "The Hollow Ones.

Those who carried the sigil and could not bear it.

Our minds collapsed.

Our bodies twisted.

But we never died."

They moved closer now. Some crawling. Some dragging themselves. But still not attacking.

Eli's instincts screamed. His hands sparked with that new fire—unstable and raw—but he held back.

> "Why aren't you attacking me?" he asked.

The child came even closer, reaching out to touch his hand.

> "Because you are the Gate."

The world tilted at her words.

He wasn't the key anymore.

He was the lock.

The threshold.

The passage.

> "If I'm the Gate, then what's trying to come through me?"

All the Hollow Ones spoke at once.

> "The Sleeper."

Eli felt something squirm in his chest at that word. A pressure. Like something ancient trying to stir in his blood.

The Hollow Ones began to move again. This time toward the trees.

> "Come," the child said. "You must see."

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They led him to a clearing deep in the corrupted woods. There, half-buried in roots, was a cathedral—its spires broken, windows shattered, yet it radiated power. It didn't belong here. It didn't belong anywhere.

It pulsed like a living thing.

The Hollow Ones stopped at the edge of the clearing, refusing to go any closer.

> "This is where it sleeps," the child whispered.

"The heart of the old world.

The mouth of the Sleeper."

Eli stepped forward alone.

As he crossed the threshold of the ruin, everything grew cold. His breath stopped. His mind quieted—too quiet.

Inside, the cathedral was worse.

The pews were filled with corpses.

Not dead ones. Not alive either.

Just… paused. Eyes closed. Sitting upright. Some were skeletal. Others still had fresh blood on their clothes. Different timelines, frozen together.

And at the center of it all was an altar.

Upon it: a cocoon. Giant. Black. Breathing slowly. With veins of gold pulsing through it.

Every beat of the cocoon synced with Eli's heart.

> "No," he muttered. "This can't be me. I didn't ask for this."

But the sigil on his hand began to glow, reacting.

A hum filled the cathedral.

The cocoon stirred.

Then it spoke.

Not with a voice—but with thought. Like a million whispers in perfect harmony.

> "We see you, Eli.

We remember you.

We chose you… long before you were born."

Eli stumbled back.

> "You're the Sleeper?" he asked.

> "We are what the world buried.

We are what the light feared.

We are… your other half."

Lightning cracked outside the cathedral.

The corpses stirred.

And then—one of them opened its eyes.

It wasn't human anymore.

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Outside, the Hollow Ones screamed.

A new figure had emerged from the trees—Lucien.

But he didn't look like himself anymore. His face was smeared with sigils, his eyes pitch-black, and his arms wrapped in blackened tendrils.

> "So… this is where you ran, Eli," Lucien sneered.

"To them. The failures."

Eli burst from the cathedral, panting, covered in sweat and blood.

> "Lucien?" he asked, voice shaking.

Lucien's smile twisted.

> "No. Not anymore."

From behind him, others stepped forward.

Marked Ones.

The next generation of Chosen.

But they didn't look like Eli. Their marks were different—unstable. Corrupted.

Lucien raised his arm.

> "We followed the light.

But you followed the dark.

And now… the worlds will burn."

Eli stood firm as the Hollow Ones gathered around him.

The cathedral behind. The enemy before.

And something inside him…

Awakening.

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