The Coming of the Cleansers

The sun never rose over Hollow that morning.

Instead, a crimson haze spread across the sky—silent and unnatural. The birds had long since fled. The wind stood still.

And then, the silence shattered.

Boom.

A thunderous echo rolled through the valley, followed by another.

Kael stood on the battlements of Hollow, eyes narrowing as the dust settled on the far ridge. Black banners, edged with red flame, fluttered in the growing wind.

> The Cleansers had come.

---

Heralds of Destruction

Mira arrived breathless beside Kael. "Scouts counted four war caravans. And six Vindicators."

Kael's knuckles whitened. "Six?"

Vindicators were walking siege engines, powered by stolen soulflame and driven by hollow-eyed warpriests.

Revak climbed up beside them. "They're not here to capture. They're here to burn everything."

Kael turned toward the defenders gathered behind the walls—wounded Soulmarked, farmers with spears, and children trained only in fear.

He took a breath. "We don't fight to win. We fight to buy time."

Mira frowned. "For what?"

Kael's eyes flashed gold. "For the spark to spread."

---

A Message Ignites

While Revak began reinforcing the outer gates with earth-shield walls, and Mira placed fire runes along the flanks, Kael descended into the sanctuary.

There, the new sigil—gold and blue—hovered above the old shrine.

He pressed his palm to it.

> Send it.

The sigil pulsed, and with a blast of soullight, it erupted into the sky—splitting into a thousand glowing shards that streaked across the horizon like shooting stars.

Each shard carried a single, blazing message:

> "The Soulmarked rise. The Empire burns. Find Hollow. Join the Flame."

It would reach every hidden clan, every exile in the frozen north, every Soulmarked child in hiding.

Mira appeared behind him. "You just lit the match."

Kael nodded grimly. "Now let's survive long enough for it to catch."

---

The First Wave

The ground quaked.

Massive gates on the southern wall exploded inward as the first Vindicator charged forward, cloaked in black iron, spewing chains of burning magic.

Revak roared and slammed his warhammer into the earth, sending up a wall of stone that stopped the warbeast in its tracks. Others followed—lightweavers darting through the smoke, airwalkers launching arrows laced with soulfire.

Kael leapt from the battlements, golden flame bursting from his palms.

He landed in the center of chaos, blades drawn, slashing through Inquisition soldiers wrapped in crimson armor.

Each swing of his blade sparked memory—pain, resistance, truth.

Each kill was not revenge.

It was resistance.

---

Breakthrough and Betrayal

Hours passed like minutes.

Hollow's outer defenses fell.

They retreated to the inner sanctum, guarding the last gate with desperation. Leora had collapsed. Two other Soulmarked were dead.

Kael staggered back, bleeding, soulflame flickering low.

Suddenly, an explosion tore through the north tower.

Mira screamed, "They breached the rear wall!"

From the smoke emerged a figure in silver armor.

Not an Inquisition soldier.

But a Soulmarked.

With a brand over her eye.

Kael stepped forward. "Who are you?"

She lowered her hood.

"Name's Seris. The Empire calls me a traitor. But I call myself a messenger."

Before anyone could move, she tossed a rune-crystal onto the floor.

It burst open with a projection of a high imperial priest—High Marshal Vaelric, the one who'd created the Cleansers.

> "To the Soulmarked hiding in Hollow: This is your final mercy. Submit and be purified. Resist and be erased from history."

The image faded.

Seris met Kael's gaze.

"I didn't come to warn you. I came to join you."

---

The Cost of Holding On

Revak didn't trust her, but there was no time.

Kael sent Seris with Mira to the eastern wall to buy time.

Meanwhile, Kael made a final stand in the heart of Hollow—where the Soulflame Crucible rested, the last source of their strength.

As the final Vindicator broke through, Kael hurled his golden flame into the Crucible, awakening the ancient wards.

Flames erupted in arcs, forming a barrier of light.

The Cleansers fell back, temporarily blocked.

But Kael collapsed, spent and bleeding from multiple wounds.

Revak grabbed him. "You stubborn fool."

Kael looked at the sky.

More Soulmarked lights were streaking toward Hollow from every direction.

And behind them—

A familiar presence.

Blue flame.

Golden eyes.

Arion.

Watching.

Waiting.

Judging.

---

The Spark Spreads

The battle was not over.

But Hollow stood—battered, bloodied, but not broken.

Kael whispered through cracked lips, "Tell them… we held the line."

Revak nodded.

"And the fire lives."