The Nightingale cut through the fractured skies of the Verdant Rift, a realm of floating islands chained together by vines thick as cities, where gravity bent to strange whims and every breath tasted of old magic.
At the center of it all, on a throne carved from petrified roots and bone, the Hollow Queen waited.
Her court had been silent for centuries.
Now it stirred once more.
Inside the ship's briefing room, the mood was grim.
"The Hollow Queen commands what's left of the Verdant Rift," Kaela said, flipping through a series of grim holo-projections "She's not just a general. She's nature twisted by Serian's will."
Riven loaded a fresh cell into his cannon "Great. Another nightmare."
Vaelion remained silent, brooding.
Lyra stared at the map, the sixth shard pulsing beneath the Hollow Queen's throne. It called to her — a desperate, aching pulse in the back of her mind.
"She'll know we're coming," Lyra said.
"She already does," Kaelen replied grimly.
As they descended toward the Rift's heart, a storm unlike any other awaited them.
Clouds of emerald mist churned, carrying spores that ate through stone. Vines lashed at the Nightingale's hull, forcing Riven to weave through the deadly labyrinth.
"I don't like this," Kaela muttered, gripping the sides of her seat.
"I love this," Riven grinned wildly, yanking the ship through a narrow gap as a living tendril snapped at them.
The Nightingale touched down hard, skidding across a field of glassy moss and blackened trees.
The Hollow Queen's domain.
The moment they stepped outside, the air thickened.
Not from heat.
Not from magic.
From presence.
A pressure that clawed at the mind, whispering promises of rest, surrender, silence.
Kaelen's blade was already drawn, its edge burning away the mist.
Riven set up a perimeter drone network.
Kaela activated a full-spectrum shield.
Lyra moved forward, the shards within her flaring to life, creating a halo of protective fire.
The Hollow Queen's voice slithered through the mist:
"Children of flame. Why do you tread upon my grave?"
The ground rippled.
From the earth rose figures — hollow knights of twisted root and bone, their armor fused with dying trees, their hollow eyes burning with sickly green light.
Kaelen stepped forward "Standard formation."
"No mercy," Vaelion added, his voice colder than ever.
Lyra charged.
Flame met vine.
Steel met bone.
The hollow knights fought without pain, without hesitation. Every time a limb was severed, vines regrew it. Every time one fell, another rose.
They were endless.
Through the chaos, Lyra glimpsed the Hollow Queen atop her throne.
She was once human — once beautiful.
Now she was something else entirely.
Her skin was bark and blossom, her hair a crown of thorned vines, her hollow chest pulsing with the stolen life force of the Rift itself.
And in her skeletal hand floated the Sixth Shard — gleaming, thrumming with imprisoned power.
"You seek to complete yourself," the Hollow Queen hissed, her voice shaking the sky
"But you are already broken."
Lyra broke through the last line of hollow knights, her fire blazing brighter than ever.
The Hollow Queen rose.
The ground shuddered.
From the throne's roots erupted monstrous beasts — creatures twisted beyond recognition, made of claw and bloom and sorrow.
Kaelen leapt into the fray, slashing a path through the beasts.
Riven fired blast after blast, taking down monstrosities with ruthless precision.
Kaela covered their rear, weaving flame barriers against the surging tide.
Vaelion moved like a shadow, striking only when necessary, always a step ahead of death.
But it wasn't enough.
The Hollow Queen herself stepped into the battle.
She moved like a storm — vines lashing, roots striking, petals of sharpened steel unfurling from her back.
Lyra clashed with her directly.
Every blow she struck burned away a piece of the Queen.
Every blow the Queen landed drained a piece of Lyra's strength.
The Sixth Shard floated tantalizingly close — but still out of reach.
"You think yourself the Starborn," the Hollow Queen sneered, wrapping Lyra in a cocoon of thorny vines "But you are nothing more than an echo."
Lyra struggled.
She could feel her flame weakening.
Could feel the pull of surrender.
The memory of Serian's betrayal.
The ruins of Solstice Bastion.
The whispers of the Ash Choir.
But then — she remembered something else.
A promise.
Vaelion's hand reaching out.
Kaelen's sword raised in defiance.
Kaela's stubborn grin.
Riven's reckless laugh.
She was not alone.
With a scream of defiance, Lyra unleashed all five shards at once.
Golden flame erupted outward, incinerating the vines, shattering the Hollow Queen's armor, driving her back with a shriek that tore the mist apart.
Lyra surged forward.
Her hand closed around the Sixth Shard.
For a heartbeat, she and the Queen locked eyes.
There was no hatred there.
Only regret.
And then the Hollow Queen crumbled into ash.
Silence fell.
The mist cleared.
The crew stood victorious — barely.
Kaelen knelt, breathing heavily.
Riven slumped against a tree.
Kaela wiped blood from her forehead.
Vaelion simply watched Lyra, a faint, unreadable expression in his eyes.
Lyra stood, the Sixth Shard burning in her hand.
One shard remained.
Only one.
And then…
The war would truly begin.
Far away, in the obsidian halls of the Shattered Throne, Serian felt the shift.
And he smiled.
"Soon, my Starborn," he whispered to the void.
"Soon you will be mine."