The Hollowlands breathed around them — a vast carcass of a world where even the threads of existence dangled like torn veins, snapping and recoiling.
Caelum Vey moved cautiously, Selvara close behind.
Both of them were worn thin — not broken, but fraying at the edges, their Soul-Webs strained by the sheer wrongness that saturated the place.
Not good. Not good at all.
The Soul-Webs here were unstable. Threads slithered through the air like hungry eels, looking for anything to latch onto.
Caelum could feel them trying to stitch themselves into him, offering strength in exchange for… something.
Selvara, too, kept slashing them away with flicks of soul-energy, her silver hair clinging to her sweat-slick forehead.
> "Keep moving," she said, voice tight. "Don't let the Hollowlands weave into you. It lies."
Caelum nodded grimly and pressed forward.
---
The Weight of Pursuit
Far behind them, the Executioners moved.
Their presence was like a cold spear pressing against Caelum's senses — relentless, methodical, inevitable.
Selvara sensed it too. Her lips tightened whenever the air shifted wrong.
"They're not rushing," she muttered, "They're herding us. Driving us deeper."
Caelum didn't reply. He knew it.
The Executioners were not impatient. They were patient death, sharpened by Solaris's will.
And even worse, the Anathema inside him purred with approval.
Good. Let them corner us. When the need is great, you will surrender fully.
He shoved the thought away.
But it grew harder with every step.
---
Memories of the Soul-Web
The broken threads fluttered around him, triggering memories — Solaris lecturing before a vast living map of the world:
"The Soul-Web is balance. Pull one thread carelessly, and a thousand others suffer.
We weave carefully. We prune carefully.
Power without understanding is ruin."
Selvara had believed in that balance once too.
She still clung to it — even here, even now.
But Caelum had seen what lay beneath the Web.
The rot. The lies.
And he had touched the Anathema that festered beyond it.
---
The Road Crumbles
They crossed a broken bridge, ancient stones crumbling beneath their feet.
Below, endless chasms opened into nothingness.
Selvara glanced back over her shoulder, her hand lingering near her soul-blade.
"You need to slow the Anathema," she said.
"It's bleeding into your threads."
Caelum scowled. His hands flexed at his sides. "If I slow it, we die."
"If you let it take you, you become worse than dead."
He stopped, the mist swirling around them.
For a moment, the ruined sky wept fragments of dying stars.
Caelum looked at Selvara.
At the desperate hope still burning behind her silver eyes.
She hadn't abandoned him yet.
Even though she should.
---
Solaris — Far Away
In the highest spire of Velmoria, Solaris watched.
"Status?"
A Projection Magister bowed low.
"Caelum Vey moves deeper into the Hollowlands. His companion, Selvara Lys, remains with him."
Solaris's mouth twisted into something almost resembling amusement.
>"Send the Executioners in closer. But not yet. Let them struggle."
"And if they survive?"
Solaris's voice dropped to a whisper.
"Then we will unleash the Choir."
---
Tensions Rise
Hours passed.
The Hollowlands twisted the sense of time.
Selvara stumbled slightly, catching herself. Not from injury — from exhaustion, from the soul-friction tearing at them constantly.
"We're close to something," she whispered.
Ahead, ancient ruins loomed in the fog — a broken shrine overrun by gnashing threads, radiating power.
Caelum's Anathema shivered with anticipation.
Feed.
Selvara stepped closer, wary.
"This place… it was part of the original Web. Before Solaris. Before everything."
Caelum stared at the pulsing heart of the shrine.
Maybe it held salvation.
Maybe damnation.
He didn't know if he cared anymore.
But behind them, the Executioners were closing in.
They had no more time.