WHISPERS OF THE HOLLOW

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: Through the Breach

Damien’s POV — Between Worlds

The sky cracked like shattered glass, revealing a realm unlike anything Damien had ever seen. Floating cities shone with unimaginable architecture—curved buildings suspended in midair, spirals of shimmering stone that spiralled endlessly into a violet sky.

Rivers of golden light flowed through the clouds like veins. And those eyes—massive, unblinking, and layered like a serpent's—watched them from the breach, as if assessing their worth.

Nobody spoke.

Even Sahran appeared surprised. He had opened the gap, but he had not anticipated this. Damien stepped in front of Lena, who stood straight with her attention fixed on the rift. Behind her,

Arius was dying quickly—every breath an effort, his spirit unravelling like smoke caught in a strong wind.

"We need to move," Damien said quietly. "Whatever this place is, it's watching us."

Lena did not move. Her voice was gentle, like a breath. "I can hear it."

"Hear what?"

"The girl." She still sings. But it isn't coming from the Hollow anymore. "It is coming... from there." She pointed to the shimmering breach.

A burst of energy emerged from the fissure. Damien readied himself for force, but instead heard music.

Ethereal. Melancholy. Familiar. "The girl's soul didn't seal the Hollow," Arius rasped. "She became the key... to the world beyond." Sahran turned towards them, his eyes wild. "This wasn't my doing." "No," Arius replied. "It's older than you. "Older than all of us."

The breach widened.

From within it, a solid light bridge plummeted towards them.

"Do you feel that?" Lyra enquired, coming closer.

"The air isn't only magic. It is memory. "All of it."

"Another Hollow?" Damien asked.

"No," Lena replied. "Another truth."

Suddenly, the field underneath them began to dissolve—petals dissolving to ash, the ground crumbling into nothing.

"Choices," the breach murmured

"One step forward, or everything falls." Sahran let out a growl. "You think this scares me?" He jumped onto the bridge. The light instantly penetrated his chest. He screamed as his body twisted and collapsed into a flurry of cinders. The bridge denied him. Lena gave a gasp. "It's judging us."

"Only truth may cross," Arius declared.

"And only those who accept themselves."

He grasped for Damien's arm. "I am too far gone. But you all of you—have to leave. Find out what lies beyond. It's the only way to prevent what's coming.

Damien stared at Lena, who had a pale face and eyes fixed on the horizon. "Are you ready?" She nodded once. "We don't have a choice." They stepped onto the bridge. It did not burn. It welcomed them. Each step produced visions. Echoes. The bridge was more than just a walkway; it was a struggle.

Damien witnessed his childhood: the fire that destroyed his village. His brother's eyes were large and still. He picked up the Flameblade for the first time. He left Lena that night, thinking she'd be safer without him.

He stumbled.

Lena captured him. Her own expression was tight. "It's showing me, too. My mom's screaming. The night I first heard the Hollow whisper. I implored the village priest to tell me what I was.

"The night you left." Damien squeezed her hand. "I'm here now."

The bridge curled. Lyra shrieked behind them. A swarm of memory-lizards, monsters made from fractured regrets, approached her. They had no eyes, only tongues that repeated past mistakes.

She raised her hands to call fire, but it fizzled. Her recollections weighed on her power. "It feeds on doubt!" she exclaimed.

"Let me!" Lena took a step back and sang a demand, rather than a lullaby. It flowed through the creatures like a cleaning wind.

The animals faltered.

Stilled.

Then melted into silver raindrops. The bridge accepted them again. Strange symbols appeared further along the trail. They float in midair, murmuring names inscribed in shimmering ink: fallen Guardians, lost gods, and Hollow souls who once ruled over dreams.

They arrived at the peak of the path, where a gate awaited. It wasn't carved or forged.

It was alive.

A pulse of sentience. Light and shadow are intertwined into form.

Dozens of eyes blinked from its surface. Watching.

"You have walked memory," the gate stated. "But will you walk destiny?" It opened. They stepped through.

The world beyond wasn't a world. The sky was wide. A mirrored ocean of starlight. Floating rings spun through the void, surrounding a single temple in the center—a pulsating beacon of colour and music.

The girl rose from within it. Not a child anymore. Her figure shimmered—half flame, part crystal, and part memory.

"You found me," she replied. "But you're not done yet."

Lena stepped forward. "What are you?"

"I'm the last piece of the Hollow," she remarked. "And the first piece of something new." Damien moved beside her. "Why bring us here?"

"Because the world is awakening. The Hollow was just a gate. "This is what sleeps beneath."

Suddenly, the temple fractured. From the centre sprang a colossal figure draped in golden chains. A entity that is neither a beast nor a God. Eyes like suns.

A voice spoke within their brains. "WHO UNLOCKED MY DREAM?"

The girl turned to face Lena. "You aren't the Guardian anymore. "You are the witness."

"What does that mean?" "It means you must choose what survives."

Behind them, the gate slammed closed. The shackled god fixed its eyes on them.

Damien moved forward, sword raised. The flame flickered across his flesh, yet it felt insignificant in the presence of such heavenly power.

The god, however, did not move.

It was Lena. Her body rose into the air. Her eyes grew white. And her voice, which was no longer her own, spoke: "You were never meant to come here."

The stars exploded. The temple burst into starlight and memories, and a swirling whirlwind of power drew them into the unknown.

Lyra shrieked as the universe shattered. Damien reached for Lena, only to see her vanish in a burst of colour and melody. The chained god shouted, shaking the entire sky.

Then came a brief moment of quiet. They were in the process of falling. Via light. Throughout time. Throughout everything. And still, the girl sang.