Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Foolishly we feared thee, yet only by thine providence shall We find the one We seek. The god sleeping within…

…

Not bug…

Nor Beast…

Nor god…

Void given form…

Void given soul…

…

Inspired or mad, those ancient bugs. They devoted their worship to no lord, or power, or strength, but to the very darkness itself…

***

The sound of lapping water floods their mind as an image of a lake slowly fades into existence. They open their eyes only to see the vastness of the unnaturally blue water and remnants of what used to be a pier. The calming atmosphere was enough to make even the hollowed knight relax and ease away any leftover tensions they had in their small form.
Not even the sound of a soft sigh behind them startled them. In fact it was more surprising that they were expecting it. They turned their head to see the familiar blue hood flapping quietly in the small breeze and the light tap-tap of his foot on the sand in mild thought. He opened his eyes to look at the stoic form before him with friendly curiosity.
He sat up. “Again we meet my short friend, it has been a while hasn’t it?”

The knight, now fully attuned to their surroundings, turned to the speaker in full attention. While unable to express, let alone feel their emotions, they were very happy to see Quirrel again. They were worried that perhaps they would never see him again after the fight with Uumuu, and that he would—

The knight shivered as a jolt of pain cascaded their body and blurred its vision. For a second, it broke the knight’s emotionless façade and instead they were left shivering before subconsciously resuming their position again almost as quick as it had happened. But while it only happened for a split second, Quirrel saw it and immediately got up in panic.
“Are you alright?” He wasn’t expecting an answer but he still felt like he needed to ask anyways. He went to move forward when the knight stopped him by holding out their hand.
Whatever that was, it was over, and Quirrel shouldn’t be worried for the knight. For some reason the very idea of scaring the scholar made the knight feel sick, it didn’t understand why.

Instead, the knight approached him and placed their hand on top of his in reassurance that they were okay. While Quirrel hesitated for a second, he placed his other hand on top of the little one’s in acceptance and opted for the two of the them to sit down, side by side, instead.

At first, Quirrel didn’t say anything and settled for gazing at the lake in quiet awe. The breeze kept whispering past them, quietly dancing into the darker cave opening behind them, almost like it was humming a tune, it was very relaxing, but not as much as the warm body next to the knight. For some reason, being in Quirrel’s presence, made the knight happy. Traveling and fighting throughout Hallownest would often leave the knight tired and stressed, but all of that vanishes the moment they lay eyes on their companion; whether they were relaxing on a bench or observing the area around them, it gave them a small piece of refuge and peace from the infection caused by the Radiance’s influence.
And now it’s no different, being so close to Quirrel made the knight feel something, even when they’re not supposed to feel at all.

After a while Quirrel spoke again. “I feel so at ease here, I’m glad I took the time to find this place.” The knight leaned against him in response, prompting a soft gasp from the scholar. Realizing it was just the little one, he laughed softly. “Tired, hmm?”

Again, no verbal response, but Quirrel was okay with that, he was used to it at this point. “Hallownest is such a wonderful and beautiful place; there are so many wonders here,” He looked down at the sleepy knight next him. “But none more mysterious or intriguing as you.”

The knight slowly returned his gaze and cocked his head to the side in question.

Quirrel could only laugh at the response. “My flattery returns only silent stoicism. I like that.” He placed his hand on top of their head and rubbed it gently, prompting the little one to cling to him. “I like that very much.”

They stayed like that for a long time, they don’t know how long but enough for their surroundings to slowly get darker. As it did, thoughts crept into the little one’s mind, ones that didn’t belong in this dream. It wasn’t until one surfaced that something didn’t feel right.

Where were you when I needed you?

It didn’t make sense to them at first, not until another surfaced.

Why weren’t you there?

Pieces of different memories started to flood their head.

Quirrel, where are you?!

Ascend.

Defeat them.

Defeat the Radiance.

Embrace the VOID.

Become the VOID.

Destroy the Light.

Show them.

Show them your power.

PROVE TO THEM.

MAKE THEM REGRET THEIR MISTAKE.

THEY DON’T DESERVE TO LIVE.

WHERE IS HE.

WHERE IS HE.

WHERE IS HE WHERE IS HE WHERE IS HE WHERE IS HE WHERE IS HE WHERE IS HE WHERE IS HE WHERE IS HE WHERE IS HE WHERE IS HE WHERE IS HE WHERE IS HE WHERE IS HE
WHERE .

IS.

QUIRREL?

The knight started and found themselves alone in darkness. Everywhere they looked it was pitch black. The lake was gone. The breeze was gone.

Quirrel was gone.

Their body shivered in what could only be panic and dread. They collapsed onto their knees and hands. They felt sick. They felt pain. Everywhere. All at once.
They don’t understand. What is it that they’re experiencing? It feels like a large piece of them just…broke off and vanished, and at the same time they felt hot. Very hot, like they just took a dip in the boiling acid in the fungal wastes. They never felt like this before, and no matter how much they tried to focus, to calm themselves down, nothing worked.
Then the pain grew worse. Their body couldn’t stop shaking and it felt like they were going to break into little pieces. The sound of their shell cracking made the knight wince in silent agony as they slowly sat up and placed their hands along their shell. Cracks were lining their head and they only worsened with every second. They tried to focus again, to heal themselves, but nothing worked. There wasn’t a surplus of soul to work with. Just VOID.

Not knowing what else to do, they receded into a fetal position and lied there. They waited helplessly as the pain continued and the cracks circled their head. As time went on, they started becoming numb. It started at their legs, then the arms, and then the chest. It was only when their vision blurred did the numbing sensation hit their head, and with it there was a loud crack sound as their shell shattered into pieces.

Then they lost consciousness.

***

“I wonder where the little one has gone? It has been ages since I have seen them last…”

…

“The infection…it has stopped! But how?!”

…

MRROOW? NYAAH?

There was a rippling from the void, almost as if it was startled by a sudden presence, or a realization. It stirred in apprehension at first, swirling cognitively before a wave of void rose from the malformed lake of blackness and slammed itself onto a distant piece of land, made entirely of garbage. From the wave, talon-like digits sprouted and dug deep into the tainted earth. While the grip was tight, the connected arm was at ease and lazily swayed in the mild torrent of the black liquid.
“So at last…it is over…if only the cost wasn’t so great…”

…

“W-Who are…no…it can’t be…you’re…!”

Again another wave tore away the glass-stained surface of the lake and revealed itself to be another hand with razor-sharp claws to cling to the distant ground. But it did not stop there, another black shape surfaced from the darkest depths of the newly, blackened waters of the Royal Waterway. Its head reared out before slowly submitting to the ground it clung to in severe trepidation and disarray.

…

“This feeling…can it be…?”

The large creature’s claws winced back in surprise. That voice. The voice that the creature could hear inside its head, it knew it all too well.
“So you finally did it…You beat them.”

The creature unknowingly shrunk back in what could be perceived to be happiness or heart-wrenching despair. Or perhaps both. Whatever it was, there was a strong pain in their chest and their head grew very warm.

“Thank you…my friend…”

Quirrel! The large behemoth shot up in a start, opening its eyes in dismay, expecting a familiar figure to stand before them. But there was no one there, only litters of trash and discarded bodies blackened with the dark liquid of the void were there. It froze and took in its sights, everything was smothered with black, it was a miracle that anything stood out among the void to the eldritch beast, let alone how small the room was to them.

Was that a dream?

It took them a moment to realize that they had one of their arms outstretched, as if to grab onto something in front of them, and they stared at it in bewilderment. What happened to them? Was their first thought before slowly moving their fingers up and down, and then directed their attention to their torso. Their cloak was missing, as was their nail, but what confused the dark being the most was how big they were. They were enormous! They easily towered much of the room, their horns were only a few feet away from the hitting the cavern ceiling.

It tried to look at its reflection in the water, but all it saw were four pairs of glowing eyes; the water was too dark to give off a proper reflection. Instead it opted to feel its face with its claws, being careful of their new sharpness, as they took mental note of their face and horns. Just like the dark reflection foretold, they gained three extra pairs of eyes. They also grew a pair of horns on either side of its head along with the lengthening of their previous horns on top.

To say they had a growth spurt would be a huge understatement.

But enough about their new body, where were they? How did they get here?

They took in their surroundings once more to come to the conclusion that they were in the garbage pit, but it wasn’t a conclusion that came easy. Everything oozed with void, not to mention more than half the room was covered with this new, black lake that came from nowhere.

Their head felt fuzzy and ached whenever they tried to recall the recent events that led to this.

Instinctively, they rested their head on the ground and lied there in deep thought. They closed their eyes and focused on the last thing that they did. As they did this, a rather large piece of the blackened sludge began to move. It moved slowly at first, inching itself closer to the thinking giant, but then it quickened its pace to a soft scoot before tripping over an emptied chest and falling to the ground.

The thump of the fall was loud enough to startle the giant into looking its way. It raised its head and slowly loomed over the shaking blob, watching cautiously as it studied its form and tried to make out the noises and gibberish it garbled out.

“Gggghhhh….heee….heeeellllllppppp…hhhh…”

To the giant’s astonishment and mortified horror, they realized it was a bug, trapped in the black ooze. Carefully, they reached both of their hands to the blob and gracefully picked it up to bring it closer to its body. Subconsciously (and in quiet awe), the behemoth summoned their other pair of hands and began wiping the excess void matter off of the bug until a golden carapace and torn wraps were exposed.

The giant blinked in surprise.

It was the Godseeker!

Unfortunately, the once “glowing and prestigious” bug was reduced to a shaking mess with eye sockets filled with void. Her voice itself has lost its stoic tone of pride and resilience.

“T-the…g-god of…gods…”

Her voice was hard to hear to the giant, it gave new rise to unfamiliar emotions that the once hollowed vessel was unable to experience before. But now, their form is free from that restriction, and every experience that the god of void is now slowly regaining makes it all the more painful and terrifying.

Not noticing the inner conflict tormenting the god holding her, the Godseeker continued in her broken voice. “…forgive Us…f-for…for…” She bowed her head, making the void from eyes ooze quicker, it made the god sick. “…everything…for doubting you…for-for…treating you…like your…worth was nothing.”

As the godseeker continued to ramble on, the giant used one of their free hands to prop her head up to stop the free flow of the void from her eyes as much as possible. It did not stop, but it lessened the speed of the flow greatly.

“We…were blind…” She continued. “…and We have deserved the punishment…you have bestowed upon Us…upon Me.” She laughed hoarsely. “We have gone silent…all that remains…is I.”

She tried to bow her head again, but the behemoth refused to budge their hand.

“A small…price to pay…for the retribution…and glorious power you shared with Us…by defeating all the gods here at Hallownest…We have attuned…to you…O great one…”
Ghost felt their chest get heavy at the godseeker’s words and stroke her head gently in guilt. But at doing so, a pull of the void was exorcised from the godseeker’s eyes in one stroke until not a single drop was left.

Startled the giant dropped the godseeker, but noticing their error in time, caught them again before her body could hit their floor. They opted to lay the poor bug on the ground again, right after looking her over again to make sure she wasn’t tainted anywhere else. They didn’t see any major spots, just specks of void in small parts of her shell, but nothing serious.

They gently put the bug back down on the ground and moved a few feet back to give her space. They watched in relief as the godseeker slowly sat up into a sitting position. As they watched her examine herself over in bewilderment, pieces of their memories flooded back into their mind all at once; the godhome…the halls…the fights…

But along with those memories, newfound emotions surfaced as well, and again the once “little ghost” was baffled and scared by the entourage of being able to feel. Slowly, but surely, however, they started recognizing some of the patterns; though it did nothing to lessen the pain.

“O great one…” The Godseekers’ voice interrupted their heavy thoughts; though it has only been a few moments since she last spoke, her voice was much clearer and her prestigious tone underlined her words, it could only be the absence of the void that could have made her quick recovery. “…what shall you do now?”

Though their thoughts—and what seemed to be their newfound heart—was heavy with inexperience of emotion, they were taken aback by her words. They never thought of the future, they were too focused of the when and how that led up to this moment. They exchanged a bewildered glance at the godseeker, then their claws, and finally the oozing ceiling above them. They couldn’t begin to wonder what to do next let alone decide their next action.

Although, thinking back on the dream they had, and the familiar voices they had somehow heard before, all they could think about was Quirrel and the others they had met on their journey. They wanted to see them again.

They looked back down at the godseeker with what may be called tired determination and shifted their head upwards.

She followed its gaze and nodded in understanding. “I see, you wish to reclaim your rule on the lands that once was Hallownest.”

The giant gave her what look as they watched her slowly stand up with disgruntled grace.

“Allow Us- I mean, I to accompany you O great lord of shade…”

Lord of shade? They subconsciously tilted their head in confusion at the new title the godseeker gave them.
“…I can prove to be of great service to you and your kingdom.”

They gave her an exhausted look. They didn’t know about all of that, but then again, the godseeker certainly was the type to see every enemy ghost has ever faced to be of some kind of divine authority, perhaps this was no different with them; and even so, they certainly weren’t going to leave her here to rot in the void.

They extended their claw and placed it on the ground, palm facing upward, as an invitation to the godseeker. She took it with grace as she slowly shuffled onto their claw and hung tightly to one of the claws’ integers. All of this still felt odd to the once “little ghost of hallownest”, being big enough to fill an entire room, having the godseeker fit in the palm of their hand…it was a little overwhelming.

But they could worry about that later, now is the time for action, to move forward and get out of this void infested pit.

They concentrated on their lower half of their body, getting a feel for whatever appendage or organ that hides in the depths of the void, and tried to ascend from the void to reach the ledge that led to the fungal infested pipes above. It felt uncomfortable at first, to leave the comfort of the darkness but it grew easier with every passing second. When their free hand firmly gripped the ledge, they turned their attention to below, a wyrm-like tail made up most of the lower half of their body, it reminded them of the wyrm corpse in the kingdom’s edge. They wriggled it in curiosity and amusement, so this was what it was like to be a giant wyrm.

Amusement aside, they looked at the exit to the pit only to find it to be patched up with a combination of fallen debris and void. Out of reflex, they clenched their claw against the ledge in what they could guess would be irritation. The sound of rock breaking pulled them out of their thoughts to find that the ledge broke to pieces under their new strength. Their eyes lit up with a new idea.

They transferred the godseeker to one of their lower free hands and used the other as leverage. With their upper pair now free and ready to use, they clenched and unclenched their claws with unbridled excitement as they ready themselves to make a new exit out of this hellish pit.

Chapter Text

Hornet could only stare in bewilderment as the assorted strands of infection surrounding the walls of the temple as slowly lost their color and shriveled into a blackened figment before fading away into wisps of darkness.

Relief should have been her first response, but only worry and dread pestered her mind. There are only a few ways the infection could have been stopped, and both involve the unsealing and entering the only entrance to the black egg to deal with the source inside. However, in all the time she has waited for the “little ghost”, not a soul has entered or left the black egg, and yet here the infection has ceased to exist.

Try as she have might, she could not figure out what has happened, but she prayed that whatever it was, it was good for her and Hallownest.

But then, the sounds of chains rattling and heavy footsteps brought her out of her stupor and clouded her senses. She sharply turned her head to find a giant silhouette exiting the sacred black egg and stand before her, a large nail clenched tightly around its hand. She held her breath as she recognized the giant before her, her sibling and hallownest’s revered knight, the Pure Vessel. But as much as she wanted to take in the fact that they were alive and freed from the fate they forced into, the aura that it gave off sent chills down her carapace. Instinct took hold and she immediately unsheathed her needle and took a defensive stance. Upon seeing the needle swung behind her, the large bug, too, instinctively held their nail tighter and drove it into the ground in a mild display of its power and strength. Hornet narrowed her eyes and waited patiently, noting every single muscle spasm and cracks to strategize where and when she should strike if it was needed to be.

But before she could decide on what to do next, the large bug stumbled and fell to its knees, their dull sword crashing to the ground next to them. Though she was surprised by the sudden collapse, she still kept her defensive stance and her needle ready. Cautiously, she inched closer to the vessel, only to find it crouched and its face nearly touching the floor. Its body constantly shuddered and its breathing was heavy and slow. It was only when Hornet was close enough to touch its mask when she realized they were missing an arm. Deeming it was safe to examine their taller sibling, they sheathed their needle and knelt down to their level.

They slowly touched the base of their siblings mask and gently lifted it upwards so their eyes could reach Hornet’s gaze. “Sibling,” Hornet whispered, “it is okay. I am a friend.” While the pure vessel did not stop shaking, their laborious breathing seemed to lighten greatly. “You are in bad shape. I’m going to take you to the hot spring to soothe your wounds and clean you up.” The pure vessel exhaled in what could be a sign of consent. Hornet nodded in understanding. “But I can’t do it alone, I need your help. Do you think you can carry yourself for a short while?”

In response, the vessel slowly raised their head and got themselves into a half-kneeling position. Hornet stood back up and went to stand next to the side where their only arm remained. The hollow knight leaned forward to grab their sword laying on the floor but Hornet’s hand grabbed theirs and swung it over her shoulder. “Leave the sword.” Hornet grunted as a heavy weight was pushed onto her shoulders as the hollow knight slowly stood to its great height. “We’ll come back for it later.” The hollow knight huffed in what could be in disapproval, but obeyed nonetheless. Slowly and careful not to fall, they walked out of the temple and headed out into the crossroads.

As much as Hornet wanted an answer to what happened to the infection and the Radiance herself, her sibling’s health right now takes priority, and she’ll be damned if she loses anyone else at this point; especially when the worst seems to be over.

******

When they reached the hot springs it was, thankfully, empty and void of any bugs, giving them the advantage of peace and silence, excluding the sound of running water and the hissing of the rising steam. Slowly, Hornet led the hollow knight into the water and trudged through to the other side where the bench sat. Upon reaching the edge, Hornet looked up at her sibling and calmly asked her sibling to lay on their stomach. Obediently, they cautiously knelt down, still using Hornet as a support and lied on their stomach so their mask could rest on the edge of the spring, out of the water. There wasn’t much that could be done to the cracked mask at the moment, the body was more important and deemed more worthy to lie in the water.

Relieved that all the physical weight on her shoulders was lifted, she left the water and went to rest on the bench, unsheathing and placing her needle against the opposite side where the hollow knight’s head lied, so not to remind itself of the sharp point that, only moments ago, was pointed at it menacingly. She sat down and leaned against the back in a big huff, spending a little more energy than she had anticipated.

They stayed like that for a while, listening contently to the sound of rushing water. Unfortunately, the quiet did not last long when a loud boom echoed all over the underground. Immediately after the sound, the earth shook and threw Hornet off of the bench. It only lasted for a second, but it was enough to shake some of the rocks loose from the ceiling, before she could even react let alone notice the rock above falling to meet her, a large figure lunged and held her in a fetal position, shielding her from the falling debris.
Once the rocks stopped falling, hornet looked up to find the hollow knight holding her tightly, bits and pieces of rocks sliding off its cloak. Even after it was evident the ceiling remained intact and no more rocks fell, they continued to hold her for dear life. Only after a moment of this did Hornet carefully reach up and rub her holder’s head did the hollow knight look down. “It’s over, you can let go.” The pure vessel seemed to hesitate at the notion, but quietly obeyed and unfurled its arm around her. Hornet stood back up and looked over the room, the bench was thrown on its side and there were a couple of rocks here and there all over the room, but other than that the room looked to be undamaged. But the vessel remained unmoving, seeming to stare at hornet intensely.

Hornet noticed and stared back. “Are you alright? You didn’t get injured from the rocks, did you?” The hollow knight didn’t respond, but hornet didn’t expect it to. She knelt down and went to examine its back. “You have been injured enough,” She huffed, raising its cloak to examine its shell, “you don’t need any more wounds for me to worry about.” To her dismay, when she looked at where their right arm should be, was scarred tissue of what seemed to be the remnants of cysts and swollen veins, the sight made her sick, but at least it was healed albeit in an unhealthy fashion; other than that the hollow knight didn’t seem to take on any more damage. She placed the cloak back down and petted the hollow knight’s shoulder before moving back to the bench. She put the bench back into its rightful position and placed her fallen needle back to its side before sitting back down.
She had no idea what that earthquake was or what caused it, but that can be something she can worry about later. For now, most of her energy has been spent and the hollow knight has only begun its long recovery.

Speaking of recovery, the hollow knight hasn’t moved since it saved hornet from the falling rocks and continued to watch their sibling. Hornet turned to them, “You should get back into the spring, your wounds still need healing.” Healing wasn’t the right word for it considering how bad their condition was, but there wasn’t a word that could exactly describe their situation either. But for once, they didn’t obey and resolved to stay by the bench, close to their sister. Hornet gave them an annoyed look. “Please, get in the water.” They shook their head. She abruptly stood back up, almost knocking over the bench again. “I’ll drag you if I have to.” Surprisingly, the hollow knight gave her a smug look; almost as if to say ‘try me’.

Accepting the challenge, hornet stomped over to the opposite side of the vessel and grabbed both of its legs and pulled. Even for being smaller than her sibling counterpart, she still had some strength in her; she was able to slowly drag the bigger vessel back into the water without much resistance from the hollow knight. Mildly proud of herself but still very irritated, she trudged back to the bench only for her sibling to grab her foot and pull her back into the water beside it.

She glared daggers at her sibling. “Let go.” Their only response was tightening their grip. “Now.” She shook her foot repeatedly, causing water to splash on both recipients, making them both soaked. If looks could kill, the hollow knight was pretty sure they would have been dead by now. It made their chest feel…light, for some reason. Hornet raised an invisible eyebrow. “You’re enjoying this.” The hollow knight didn’t move, nor did they lighten their hold on her, but the way their mask looked, she would think they were smiling at her.

Hornet sighed and begrudgingly sat down next her sibling—who she was pretty sure was laughing on the inside at this point. “Fine, you win, I’ll sit next to you.” At the notion, the hollow knight let go her foot, but in return shifted their selves to lay their head on her lap. Hornet sighed again, but it was much lighter and with content, as she lowered her hand rubbed their siblings head. The hollow knight exhaled their own sigh as they lowered their shoulders and focused on their sister’s gentle movements.

They stayed like this for a while, content with being lost in their own minds when their sister’s voice brought them back to reality.

“Do you…remember me?”

It was a simple and honest question, but hornet seemed to regret saying it the moment she uttered it, enough to stop rubbing their sibling’s head. The hollow knight lifted its head in response and stared at her, noting how much older she looked than before. It made their chest heavy.

They drifted their head back onto her lap in quiet thought, subconsciously concealing their feelings like they always did so they could perform the duty they were made to do. In fact, they did it so much that it became second nature to them, they wanted so much to hide their imperfection and make their father proud, and save their home.

‘But I failed.’ They thought harshly. ‘Does it even matter anymore?’

From the black egg they saw everything unfold, how the infection leaked through them and cascade the entire kingdom like a plague and consume those all dwelling underground. And throughout their time locked away, not once did they ever get a glimpse of their father, their pale king.

They remembered how they were trained by everyone; by their king, and by the king’s knights ogrim, isma, zhe’mer, hegemol, and dryya. It was so rare that they ever interacted with anyone else, let alone their mother.

But…

“Yes.” Hornet’s eyes widened as she looked to the hollow knight who has used their arm to raise themselves to be eye level with her. Their voice was much softer and raspy from misuse but it was clear and loud enough to hear and understand. “I…remember you…sister.”

Tears threatened to surface, she shook her head to drive them away, but more only came. “You can talk.” She whispered. She always had a theory that maybe her supposed ‘empty vessel’ of a sibling wasn’t truly empty and devoid of thought and emotion as all thought, but it wasn’t until now that is was indeed confirmed from the vessel themselves.

She threw her arms around their sibling’s head. “You can talk!” They repeated.

As much as the hollow knight wanted to hug back, their only arm was being used to support both of them, instead they quietly nuzzled their sister’s head the best they could. “I…always…could. I always…could.”

They stayed like that for a very long time. Long enough that the hollow knight lost their strength in their only arm, and both fell into the water in a comedic heap.

Chapter Text

It felt uncomfortable to be without his blade by his side, but the sensation was the last thing on his mind right now. The once shambling, infected remnants of what used to be normal bug-folk now lie in heaps on the soaked, freezing stones of the infamous city of tears. Though no longer infected and entranced by the blinding light that was the radiance, the damage has been done; years of neglect from proper hygiene and consumption along with other biological factors have rendered these bugs unsalvageable from the coming darkness that has seeped from death’s door.

Perhaps, if they weren’t afflicted for too long, they could be saved, but judging from the large amounts of corpses littering the streets, it doesn’t seem to be the case here.

As much as Quirrel wanted to say that he was used to this grotesque scenery, it’s hard to desensitize someone who values the beauty in everything, living or nonliving.

It was a mistake to leave so early, when there was still so much to be done to aid the one who supposedly was the only one that could end this plague; to try to move on from an unaccountable past and explore the beauty of this world more. And yet, it has already been done, the infection has been defeated—in what way he is not sure—even without his help. It was definitely a bittersweet ending to this kingdom laying out before him, that’s for sure.

And now he’s thinking whether it was a mistake for looking back; for not giving enough faith to his little companion.

He is not sure, and he’s conflicted about it.

“You.” He sharply turned his head to find a mildy, cozy-looking bug giving him an irritated look. “What are you doing in the rain? You have been standing out here like that for a long time, are you stupid or something?”

This was the first time Quirrel saw another uninfected bug in a long while, but their first impression seemed to be that of a cranky, old bug.

“Oh uh, I was?” He couldn’t seem to get his thoughts together as this bug stared him down, and as a result, the words seemed to stumble out unselectively. “H-how long was I out?”

“Enough to simmer my vegetable broth,” The bug retorted. Quirrel gave him a sheepish look in which the bug only responded with a disapproving sigh. The bug waved to follow him, “C’mon get your ass inside before you get sick and join the heaps.”

It wasn’t a suggestion, it was an order, and one Quirrel quietly obeyed as he followed the cranky bug, navigating around the fallen bugs into the nearest building.

********

“What’s your name?” The bug asked as he handed Quirrel a bowl of his vegetable broth.

Quirrel gladly took the bowl from the stranger and instinctively held it up to his face, taking in the warmth and the soothing aroma of the broth, a great contrast to the icy rain outside. He placed the bowl back in his lap and looked up, only to realize that the stranger has been staring at him with a tired look the entire time, making it known he wasn’t very a patient bug—at least when it came to socializing.

“It’s Quirrel.”

“Just Quirrel?” Quirrel nodded, taking a sip of the broth. “Lemm.” He held out his hand and Quirrel, setting his bowl down, took it and shook it in greeting.

“Thank you for inviting me in and sharing your food.”

Lemm waved it off mechanically. “It would be heartless to leave an idiot to their devices. Had enough of the glowing-eyed ones outside, it’s nice that they finally stopped.”

Quirrel decided to ignore the mild insult, and desensitized attitude towards the dead, and focused on getting some answers to the many questions roaming his thoughts. “Do you know what may have caused them to stop?”

Lemm shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know, and I don’t care. Relics are the only thing worth my time here.”

Quirrel took another sip of his soup. “Oh so you dabble in relic-seeking?”

“Indeed I do.” He gestured to the many shelves behind him, filled with hundreds of antiquities and oddities here and there; some recognizable, some more than enough to make Quirrel’s head pulse upsettingly before he had to look elsewhere. “In fact, if you do end up tripping over something, come by and I might buy it off of you.”

Quirrel smiled at the obvious sense of repayment, and nodded. “I’ll let you know.”

Lemm made his own portion of his broth and quietly sipped it, Quirrel, too, focused back on the warm soup in front of him and continued to sip on it. When it looked like Quirrel’s bowl was about empty, Lemm handed him the ladle that hung on the side of small cauldron, Quirrel gratefully accepted it and scooped seconds into his bowl.

With Lemm finished his meal, he placed the bowl aside. “So what brings a traveler like you to these infested ruins?”

Quirrel paused. What should he say? That he was led here by a subconscious call from his late mentor? That he only came to do something he swore to do from a past self that he can no longer recall? He decided on the short answer, “I just so happened to be here by chance, friend, nothing more.”

“Oh, so you’re one of those.”

Quirrel furrowed his invisible eyesbrows. What’s that supposed to mean?

Lemm held up his hands innocently, though that tired look never faded. “You’re one of those travelers that travel just for the sake of travel. Not my cup of tea, I prefer having a set goal instead of taking everything in stride. I knew there was something weird about you.” He muttered the last part, before deciding to lay on his side and watch the fire under the cauldron get smaller and smaller.

Quirrel frowned and went back to his meal.

Just when Quirrel was about to take another sip of the broth, a large earthquake erupted and shook the walls, causing the hot broth to spill over Quirrel’s shell. He withheld his scream as he watched in horror as a few cracks begun to form on the walls and on the floor. On instinct, Quirrel jumped to his feet, forgetting about his bowl, and ran to the nearest archway. He looked back only to find Lemm’s attention was to the shelves that ricketed haphazardly back and forth, trying to catch some of the falling relics before they could hit the floor.

“Leave the relics!” Quirrel shouted. “Get over here and shield yourself!”

Lemm ignored the scholar and continued to prevent the fragile relics from breaking. However, the quake only grew more ravenous, and as a result, the shelves began to topple forward. Filled with adrenaline, Quirrel shouted once more before bolting to the stubborn bug and shoving him out of the way; the large shelf barely missing the two bugs as they crashed through the nearby window.

*******

The earthquake has stopped, but the damage had already been done. Some of the buildings, including the one Lemm and Quirrel occupied, took a massive hit. Large amounts debris fell from them, some large chunks of broken glass from the resulting shattering of the many windows above, and others, large pieces of brick and stone littered the ground. Years of neglect and the constant downpour of the rain did a number on both the buildings decorum, structure, and foundation. It was a miracle that none of the skyscrapers toppled over.

But not all the luck in the world could save Lemm’s workshop from being destroyed

“Shit. Shit shit shit!” Lemm cursed as he gazed up at the window he and Quirrel escaped from in horror; noting the cataclysm and utter destruction of his valuables inside. He wanted to get up there, he needed to get up, and look for anything salvageable but the bug beside him forced his heart to stay.

Quirrel was in very bad shape. When he and Lemm fell, Quirrel maneuvered them both so he would take the blunt of the fall; and now he lies, unmoving and barely conscious. His head throbbed like crazy, and his back hurt like hell; he couldn’t feel his legs, or his arms, or anything for that matter. Only the sound of Lemm’s disoriented shouts kept the bug slightly conscious.

“My workshop, shit! Dammit, my life’s work…all GONE!” Lemm turned his attention to the fallen bug. “What do I do? What do I do?! I’m not a medic, I can barely bandage for shit!”

Quirrel tried to speak, but all of the energy inside him suddenly faded away, and he was left with nothing to aid himself or his new acquaintance.

Lemm’s words began to fade as Quirrel’s consciousness began to slip away. Not even the constant rambling from the now relic-less seeker could keep him awake.

“No, no, no, keep those damn eyes open, you hear me!” Lemm shouted, awkwardly maneuvering around the bug, trying to find a way to help Quirrel in any way possible. “I need to take you to the hot spring, yeah that should help, but how do I get you there without hurting you?”

Suddenly a large shadow loomed over the two, causing Lemm to freeze in place and Quirrel to shut his eyes.

Lemm turned his head to the source of the shadow and screamed.

Quirrel was met with darkness.

Chapter Text

It has been too long since Grimmchild has last slumbered, or finally found the comfort and peace to do so. It was too intoxicating to defy their sense of sleep, and so they slumbered in their cocoon of void that has somehow emerged from quite an exhilarating dream. Every minute or so, the small child would ‘nya’ in its sleep, stretch its wings to release as much heat as they could without melting their surroundings, and then curl in on itself again.

 But every once in a while they would twitch their ears upward so they could hear their parent’s very faint breathing, but prominent breathing  whenever  they went to rest on a bench; but they were only met with silence. This continued for a while and soon the absence of their caretaker became clearer and clearer to the point it made their heart ache.

Suddenly, there was a loud boom and the entire cocoon shook. Grimmchild jolted awake and immediately opened its mouth to prepare a fireball to strike whatever woke it from its slumber. But the ground continued to shake and the grimmchild, not used to steadying itself on the ground, lost their balance and their fireball shot out of its mouth and tore through the ebony walls of the cocoon. The light from the hole blinded the child as it huddled into a fetal position, terrified from the onslaught of noises of falling rocks and the crashing water surrounding the frail creature’s nest.

When both the ground and the sound grew still, and when the light above seemed to dim enough, Grimmchild unfurled themselves and gazed up at the new exit curiously. They poked their head out of their make shift nest and saw nothing but a room filled with void and garbage.

Their caretaker was nowhere to be found.

Even with their scarlet eyes, they couldn’t find a trace of life in the room. Instinctively, Grimmchild called out for their parent, but there was no response.

From the corner of their eye something shimmered below them. They pulled their head back in and found a small, shiny case. They sniffed it, it belongs to their parent! It took a few tries but they were able to open it all the way with their muzzle. It was Ghost’s charms. They all sparkled in the light, some Grimmchild recognized, but after looking at all the shiny bobbles that danced in the light, Grimmchild realized that they couldn’t find their charm in here. Ghost must still have it on them.

Grimmchild focused inwardly, searching for the small, inviting beacon of flame that the charm always emanated so they could be able to teleport to Ghost, but there was nothing; almost as if it’s being blocked by something. Disappointed, the child mewed and closed the case, they would have to resort to their physical senses to find Ghost.

 Scared but still determined, they wriggled the case’s small strap over their shoulder and poked their head out of the cocoon once more.

Grimmchild, careful of the void beginning to leak into the nest, unfurled their wings and took flight. They flew over the lake of void and called out again, but they were met with silence. They flew over to where multiple chests lay either empty or filled with the sludgy darkness and called out. Again, there was no response.

Their throat started to feel tight as scarlet tears threatened to surface through the corners of their eyes.

They continued to cry out to their parent, flying over every nook and cranny, begging for their Ghost to come out. As they flew around helplessly, they stumbled into a ray of light. They stopped in their tracks and looked up to see a large hole in the top corner of the room. Their scarlet eyes glimmered with hope; they flapped their wings enthusiastically and flew through the hole.

*****

The Hollow Knight awoke to find their sister lying next to them in the spring, their only arm wrapped around her protectively. They looked over to her and noticed the slow rising and falling of her chest. She appeared to be in a deep sleep. They never noticed until now how many cuts and bruises littered her body, they perfectly blend in to her black shell; even the fact that she accidentally fell asleep next to the hollow knight is even more surprising. They looked over to their damaged shoulder, even with their sacrifice, bugs fell into despair and many were burdened to help those that can’t help themselves.

It was their fault.

They were a failure.

And there was nothing they could do to fix it.

Hornet shifted in her sleep. They held their sister tighter.

But they were still going to try.

To make Him proud.

The sound of humming interrupted their thoughts. They looked up to find a small bug with a miner’s hat stumbling into the room. They hummed an old hymn, one they recognized that some of the bugs sang whenever the king and his five great knights entered a room or paraded the city. It made them feel nostalgic, but the only memories that surfaced were empty ones.

The small bug collapsed into the spring. “Ah, that feels so much better.” She whined, tears threatening to fall. “That hurt so much.”

The hollow knight was curious of the small bug, they weren’t armed or hostile, but there was definitely an air of mystery to them and they couldn’t pinpoint why.

They flinched when the little one looked their way. “A-are you hurting too?” The hollow knight didn’t expect her to talk to them, let alone ask them such an innocent question, but they gave her the benefit of the doubt and answered with a slow nod. She seemed to perk up at that. “Me too! I think I fell asleep, or s-something. Everything was so bright! A-and there was this soothing voice telling me things like “Remember me” and “Destroy the hollow one” and some other weird stuff.”

Hollow one? That couldn’t have been right. The hollow knight sealed the radiance inside the black egg, there was no living creature that could enter without breaking all of the seals to try to and free her. And even then, by the time the radiance could have brainwashed everyone, they would have been completely under her control as well.

So why?

Unless…

“There w-was even this one time where, in my dream, I almost hurt this little knight that likes to visit me sometimes.” The hollow knight perked up. “A-actually, they look like you except small. Are they your baby or something?” She asked innocently.

The hollow knight ignored the question and thought back to when they were consumed by the radiance and remembered the anomalies that seemed to occur around then.

They remembered…battling others; remembering being in their prime, strangely unaffected by the radiance’s affliction.

They remember them, entering the arena and ready to battle.

The little knight.

The hollow knight bolted upwards, forgetting their sleeping sister, and rushed to the other end of the room. Hornet jolted awake and scrambled to her feet. “Wh-what is it. What happened?!” Hornet blurted out.

“Oh they’re all better!” The small bug chimed, watching the tall bug rush past her with childish excitement.

Hornet mentally cursed as she grabbed her needle and rushed to catch up to her sibling.

*****

Everything ached. His back was throbbing and his head was swimming. His senses were hazy but he could feel most of his body was submerged in warm water. He tried to remember what had happened to him but his head pulsed in defiance. He couldn’t think clearly, and it hurt to try. He opened his eyes only to be blinded by bright lights hanging above him. He groaned.

Then he felt something move underneath him.

He tried to open his eyes again, they stung, but they slowly adjusted to light around him. His vision was still hazy, but it was clear enough to make out most of the room. It looked like a fancy lounge with soft, velvety furniture and intricate drapery. It seemed like he had been there before but at the same time it looked foreign to him.

As he tried to sit up, his nerves crackled with pain and he cried out. He lied back down harshly and his head fell against something soft, yet oddly cold; but he ignored it as his focus was only on the pain that shot through his entire spinal part of his carapace. He squeezed his eyes closed and took deep breaths, focusing on steadying his breathing and praying that his pain would go away. As he did this, however, whatever lied underneath him shifted and seemed to enclose around him. It was so physically jarring that Quirrel stopped and looked to see what it was. Careful not to invoke the pain from his back again, he slowly moved his head to the side and looked down. Whatever it was, it was massive and so dark that it may as well have been a chasm. Though, when Quirrel moved to press his hand against it, it was very soft and at a cool temperature despite the hot springs it was submerged in.

The mass twitched at Quirrel’s touch and he jerked his hand away. Whatever he was lying on, it was alive, and it unsettled him.

Then, a large shadow loomed over him. He looked up, and his eyes bore into eight glowing ones. He withheld his breath and froze, fear washing over his body. It was huge and very menacing looking; Quirrel had never seen anything like it. He didn’t know what to do, his mind was still fuzzy and unable to conjure a plan, and his body was still in too bad of shape to run, let alone get up.

The behemoth’s eyes seem to curl upwards, as if it was smiling, and it made Quirrel squirm. What was it going to do to him? Eat him? Quirrel began to tremble. Am I going to die?

As if responding to his thoughts, the mass below him shifted again and this time a long, razor-like claw surfaced and gently rubbed the top of his head. His eyes widened and realized what it was he was lying upon; it was the creature’s hand. He was literally in the palm of their hand. Quirrel turned pale.

The claw stopped moving and rested back into its original position, but the creature continued to watch Quirrel with, what looked to be, pleasure.

Quirrel breathed a weak sigh and lost consciousness.

*****

Quirrel went limp in their hand.

Ghost’s face fell and began to panic, whimpering softly to itself as it brought Quirrel out of the water to inspect him more closely for any other injuries they have failed to notice.

“Do not worry, my shade lord.” Ghost paused and looked over to the godseeker nestled around their tail. “It is normal for common bug-folk to become overwhelmed in the presence of an almighty god.”

Ghost didn’t doubt the “overwhelming” part, they knew that it may take a while for others to get accustomed to their new appearance—let alone figure out it was Ghost—and understood it would take a lot of time and patience to do so. But the fact that they made their friend faint warrants how serious the new take on his body is.

Even so, they would happily wait for Quirrel to get better.

“Yeah well, that “almighty god” broke that bug’s back and destroyed my workshop!” Lemm fumed, staring out what-used-to-be the window before Ghost broke it to fit inside Marissa’s old place.

Ghost winced at the accusation and placed their friend back in the water. They didn’t know that their newfound strength could make Hallownest shake the way it did. They wouldn’t have done what they did if it knew it could hurt their most faithful companion; they would do anything to heal him. Anything.

“Perhaps that was meant to be,” the godseeker retorted, pointing an accusing finger to Lemm, “Our great lord of shade created an exit for us to escape from the awful dwelling of the void. If an old shop filled with old things is sacrificed to raise the god of gods from its tomb, then so be it!”

Lemm angrily faced her. “That old shop contained all the relics of this kingdom along with many many stories and journals of forgotten knowledge! Do you know how long it took for me and others to collect them?! How valuable my workshop was?!”

The godseeker rolled her eyes. “Apparently not enough considering it only filled a small place in an unsanitary building.”

Lemm growled. “How dare you.”

The two bugs continued to bicker back and forth, but Ghost ignored them and focused closely on Quirrel, begging him to wake up again. They didn’t mean to scare him, but there wasn’t anything they could do that could have prevented it from happening, not with the form they had.

It hasn’t been long since they had this body and already they created so much misfortune, they wished they could start over and do everything right again. They never wanted their reunion with Quirrel to be like this. It made Ghost’s heart ache dreadfully.

They lowered their head enough to barely touch Quirrel’s. I’m so sorry, Quirrel. This is all my fault. Please, please wake up.

As they did this, tears mixed with void and soul streamed down their face and fell onto Quirrel’s head. The droplets, as if they had a mind of their own, flowed into Quirrel’s unopened eyes. There was a moment of silence before it was interrupted by the sound of Quirrel coughing. Ghost opened their eyes and jerked their head back as they watched their friend writhe and squirm in his hand as void gushed out of his mouth.

Ghost was horrified.

The two bugs stopped their argument and fell into stunned silence as they stared at the infected bug in Ghost’s hand.   

But as quick as it came, Quirrel stopped and gave out one final gasp before falling silent once more. Everyone froze. They couldn’t do anything but watch as Quirrel slowly sat up into a sitting position, the void that he coughed out falling into the spring and staining it a mild grey. He blinked and looked up at the giant staring back at him with worried eyes.

“I’m…okay.” He said. He looked back down at his hands and shifted them to feel against his back. “The pain is…gone.” Quirrel looked back at Lemm and the mysterious bug next to him. “I’m okay.”

Lemm looked up at the bewildered giant. “What…the hell.”

Chapter Text

The tunnels of the crossroads rumbled as a large figure ran through them, their form awkward and clumsy as they tried to balance themselves with only one arm by their side. They stumbled many times, sometimes colliding into walls haphazardly, but they were always quick to recompose themselves and continue onward; back to the black egg temple to retrieve what they have abandoned.

Not far behind, a flash of red darted after the large knight. With her needle in hand, she navigated the rooms with ease, keeping pace with her much bigger sibling. It was only when they both entered through the black egg entrance did Hornet land back onto the ground.

She pointed the back of her needle to her kneeling sibling, grabbing the hilt of their sword with shaky hands. “What do you think you are doing?!” She accused.

Her sibling did not look at her, nor said a word as they used the sword to push themselves back to their feet once more.

Hornet tightened her grip. “You are in no condition to be wandering around, let alone carrying a sword!”

Her sibling shook their head.

“Why?”

The hollow knight finally looked her way and lowered their head. “It’s not…over…”

She lowered her needle. “What is ‘not over’?”

The hollow knight raised their head and subconsciously moved their sword close to their chest and maneuvered their grip so the back of their fist could be shown, a gesture that hornet knows too well: the pledge of knighthood, an act to show absolute loyalty to the kingdom and the king. It was a symbol that the hollow knight held dear, it felt like it was the closest thing to expressing themselves to their father without revealing their true nature.

But to Hornet it was just another sick joke left behind from their father’s shameful legacy.

Hornet clenched their free hand enough to make her knuckles turn pale. She wrenched her eyes from the scene and turned to face her back to their injured sibling. After all this time, after what their sibling had been through, they were still loyal to the king who abandoned his people. He was a monster, making others sacrifice so much when he did so little. He created life only to throw it into the abyss so the darkness could consume them and create perfect, empty vessels. They were his children, his children.

And it still didn’t matter.

In the end, the radiance corrupted the people of Hallownest and he vanished.

He left them to die.

Surely the hollow knight knew this, since they have always been by the king’s side? And yet, here they are, still honoring their father’s memory as if he was worthy of it. Hornet would have excused the fact that the hollow knight might have been hollow enough not to convey emotions of anguish, let alone understand the weight of the king’s heinous actions on the kingdom. But they weren’t, they were able to think, to speak, and they still allowed everything to happen.

They let their own father burden them with everything.

Hornet didn’t know how to react, it feels like her emotions are all over the place, but none more prominent than hate; hate for the king that made her family suffer for so long.

Blood began to seep from Hornet’s hand as her nails continued to plunge themselves through the thick carapace of her palm. “I don’t understand.” She whispered.

The hollow knight lowered their hand and looked back to their sister. They moved to get close to her but the moment they took a step a forward Hornet turned and threw her needle at the ground in front of her sibling, barely missing their foot by mere inches. The hollow knight jumped back and placed their sword in front of them in a defensive position.

Hornet glared at them and the hollow knight shuddered. She had never looked so angry before, and they didn’t understand why.

“I don’t understand!” She yelled. The hollow knight flinched. She shook her head in disappointment, trying to find the words to express her pain to her clueless sibling. “He hurt you. He hurt us.” Tears seeped into the corner of her eyes. “Why can’t you see that?!” The hollow knight gave her a worried look. Hornet shook her head vigorously to prevent the tears from spilling. “He was a monster. He left us to die! How can you still be loyal to him?” The hollow knight stared at her, not knowing what to say or how to express the sudden pain in their chest.

She stared back them in disbelief, internally begging for them to answer her, to give her an answer that would restore the newly found faith she had in her sibling.

The hollow knight understands now why she was so enraged, but they wanted to tell her that it wasn’t so black and white. She didn’t see what they saw. The pale king always acted cold and harsh in front of others, in front of his staff, in front of the white lady, but the few times they were alone together they saw something else entirely.

They saw a broken wyrm trying desperately to carry the world on his shoulders.

And that wyrm shattered when he locked them inside the egg.

They wanted so much to tell their sister that, but their voice fell silent and their heart instinctively grew numb. Even so, their sister might not have believed what they had to say.

And so it was settled.

Hornet deflated, hanging her head in disappointment before turning her back to her sibling once more. “My mother is dead because of him. Our siblings have fallen because of him.” She whispered, yanking the thread in her grip that was attached to her needle to pull it back into her grasp.

Her sibling held their arm out, as if to reach for her, but Hornet remained unfazed.

“And you still stand up for him.” She finished, sheathing her needle. She gave them one last look, her eyes piercing theirs. “I thought you were better than that.”

With that she walked away, leaving her sibling with their inner struggle.

******

The room has been awkwardly silent ever since the lord of shade “miraculously” cured Quirrel of his ailments. The godseeker decided to ignore the fraternized Lemm and went back to laying against the shade lord’s tail, while Lemm decided to check on Quirrel, to make sure that he was indeed alive and not some sort of life-like apparition.

Jokes aside, Lemm was surprisingly questionative and prodding towards the scholar who only waved his hands in mock submission, insisting that he was alright and didn’t need any physical Lemm was willing to offer.

“Please Lemm I’m fine, really!” Quirrel pleaded.

“Rubbish! You’re as pale as a ghost!” Lemm retorted, poking the scholar’s shell. “And you’re freezing to the touch too, you might as well be a corpse!”

Quirrel sighed, though there wasn’t any mirror that he could look at, he couldn’t deny Lemm’s accusation. He didn’t feel like himself, but he couldn’t pinpoint what. But at this point Quirrel was just happy that he wasn’t under any more excruciating pain.

While the two conversed, Ghost watched with mild amusement, content that Quirrel was alive and well and not seeming to be petrified of their presence anymore; though they know Quirrel still isn’t fully comfortable with them, yet.

Still, they wished there was some way they could articulate to Quirrel their identity and how it came to be this way.

Ghost’s thoughts were interrupted when they felt something press their stomach. They looked down to find Quirrel pressing his hand against their form, moving it around and testing the amount of force the body resisted Quirrel’s push. “Fascinating,” He mumbled, “it looks like a liquid, feels like a gas, and yet it’s solid.” All the while Lemm just watched him from a distance, annoyed that the scholar decided to ignore him despite the fact that he (for once) was worried about someone other than his research.

Ghost was surprised by Quirrel’s sudden boldness to approach and touch them, but happier that they were petting them—even though it was unintentional—enough so that a low rumble emerged from their chest. Quirrel winced from the sudden vibration and backed away from the happy giant.

They glanced up at the shade lord in fear. “Apologies, I-I didn’t mean to make you upset!” Quirrel rushed. “I-I was just curious of what type of shell you had a-and I-“

Nono likedpet petmore.

A sudden voice, no, emotion suddenly entered Quirrel’s head. Quirrel jumped and his hands instinctively held his head. It was almost as if someone whispered in his head, and yet it also seemed loud and very demanding.

Quirrel stared up Ghost in bewilderment. “D-did you just speak?!”

Ghost blinked. Lemm raised a questionable brow and the Godseeker slowly shifted herself closer to the others, her head inclined in their direction.

Hearme? Hearme? What?

“Yes!” Quirrel blurted out, causing the unsuspecting trio to flinch. “I can hear you!”

Ghost always believed they were thinking to themselves and not projecting their thoughts aloud--unless perhaps they did have a voice and is somehow using it now--but it seems Quirrel is the only one that seems to respond and reiterate what they were thinking to themselves.

They decided to try and test it out. They lowered their head so they could be level with Quirrel’s.

Petme petmemore pleasepet?

Quirrel blinked. “Y-you want me to pet you?”

Ghost’s eyes sparkled. Youhearme yeshearme! Happy! Sohappy!

Quirrel was enveloped with a wave of positivity from the scary giant, his doubts and fears seemed to melt away. He inched closer and grabbed the bottom of shade lord’s head and rubbed it. Ghost closed their eyes and leaned into the touch, their chest rumbling with what seemed like a purr of contentment.

Ghost didn’t understand how in the world Quirrel was somehow able to hear them, but it was a pleasantry they weren’t going to question. After all the damage they had done in the short amount of time, they were happy that things were starting to go their way, at least for Quirrel’s sake.

“To think I thought you were going to eat me,” Quirrel joked to himself. “Whatever you did, thank you friend.”

Ghost nuzzled him in response, but they ended up using too much force and caused the pill bug to fall onto his bum. He yelped in surprise but soon found himself laughing, causing the giant to smile sheepishly.

Lemm watched the two warily, after everything that has happened he was ready for a nap. Soon he found himself next to the Godseeker, wanting to take advantage of the comfy looking tail she was lying against. He pressed his head against the soft tail and immediately a wave of exhaustion overtook him.

“Marvelous, to think that our shade lord has ascended not moments ago and already everything is falling into place.” The Godseeker muttered, watching the two beings with a sharp gaze.

Lemm rolled his eyes. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Don’t you realize it commoner?” She seethed, turning to the sleepy old bug. “He has been baptized by the void, he is no longer a bug from common descent.”

Lemm turned to her, a pit forming in his stomach. “What the hell are you talking about?” He repeated.

“He has ascended.” She whispered in quiet awe. “He has been chosen to be their prophet!”

As quick as it came, the pit in Lemm’s stomach vanished and gave her an annoyed look. At this point, he realized, the Godseeker is nothing more than a religious nutcase that just so happened to be attached to a giant, scary-looking wyrm, and turned over so his back faced the mumbling bug.

He prayed that all of this was just a really bad nightmare and then dozed off.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t long before the entire group soon fell to their own exhaustion and fell asleep; the godseeker and relic-seeker Lemm resting on the shade lord’s tail and Quirrel sleeping against their chest, their arms surrounding him in a protective hold .

Well, everyone except the giant that is.

As much as the lord of shade wanted to join the others in slumber, there was too much going on their mind. Everything has happened so fast that their mind couldn’t even comprehend the impact of their future until now and now they can’t help but let their mind wander.

What were they going to do now? Their ‘purpose’ for being created was complete; they never had a home to return to, they always wandered from place to place seeking the very reason they have accomplished. Though, even if they decided to return to their life as a nomad they feel a very strong connection here. Perhaps remembering their birthplace gave them an impact on their well-being.

Although they are more inclined to think it was an emotional connection to the kingdom and its inhabitants, the void is what tied them here. They have always been part of the void, and throughout their journey being close to their abyssal birthplace was what gave them the unsurmountable determination to do what seemed to be impossible; and that willpower was never there when they were in other parts of the world. But now…they are the void. From what felt like they were a branch, attached to something much more, they are the tree, and they can feel everything—from feeling the leaves move in the breeze to the roots taking hold of the ground down under.

The thought reminded them of their mother. They still haven’t decided how they should feel about her. On one hand, she has created them and so many of their siblings only to let them become empty vessels and puppets for a grander scheme that never worked in the end. On the other hand, she has shown shame and guilt for her actions, and forced herself to hide away from the world so she wouldn’t have to worry about breeding ever again.

Ghost sighed, for now they will remain indifferent. After all it doesn’t seem like they know that much about their mother, for all they know she may have a different side of the story to tell.

Ghost’s focus fell back on Quirrel shifting in his sleep, unconsciously burrowing his head against Ghost’s chest. Their eyes smiled at the sleeping pill bug, it was at times like these they wished they were small again so they could cuddle with him, but trying to do it at this size may end with the scholar being crushed.

 They sighed and lowered their head to rest on their arms, exhaustion finally beginning to overtake them. Careful not to crush the sleeping bug underneath them, they relaxed their shoulders and fell asleep.

******

The city of tears was cold and wet. They hated cold and wet!

 They were tired enough as they were, searching for their Ghost.

When they emerged from the hole in the ceiling, Grimmchild found themselves over by the fungal wastes surrounded by the blue pipes from the waterways and those funny-sounding balloon fungi. While it was fun to shoot at them with their fireball and watch them deflate, it didn’t make them feel any better. They continued to follow the path upwards and soon found that their path ended by the nailsmith’s old workshop. When they realized where they were, they felt the pain in their chest lighten, the familiarity will make the search much easier, or at least they hoped.

Once they made out to the opening of the City of Tears, they were suddenly overwhelmed by the large, cavernous space. They never realized how big this room was, until now, perhaps being by Ghost gave them a confidence that they didn’t know was there. The thought made their heart ache again.

They tried to ignore the overwhelming sense of fear and flew over to the other side, wading through as much of the rain as possible. They knew it was hopeless to do so but it was an instinct that was drilled into their being that they rather not forego.

Now, despite trying to find cover under the cracked archway that led to the room where the fountain was, they were completely soaked and very cold. Ghost always tried to give them shelter from the rain and dry them off whenever they could, but now that their gone it was much harder to dry off and warm up.

Grimmchild desperately focused on the flame within and tried to warm themselves up, but every minute their mind raced with memories of Ghost drying them off with their cloak or rubbing their wings with their claws to heat them, made the flame inside become doused with dread and despair. Though reincarnated from previous Grimms’, the Grimmchild is still inexperienced with how to control their emotions from affecting the fire inside.

They resorted to curling in on themselves on a nearby broken windowsill, careful of the case they were holding, to preserve as much as heat possible while still keeping a lookout for Ghost. Whenever they had the chance, they peered out the window to look at the fountain courtyard where the memorial to the hollow knight still stands. However, once was a prestigious courtyard free of debris and the infected bugs is now swarming with large piles of rubble and uncorrupted, dead bodies as far as the eye could see; even the hollow knight statue took damage, the majority suffering a large crack spreading upwards from the foundation. The buildings surrounding the fountain looked fairly damaged as well, enough to have chunks of rock and metal break off and fall to the ground, but not enough to destroy the very building itself.

The Grimmchild was confused; they had never seen so much damage in such a large city before. Whatever caused this was something big.

But then something caught their eye, something red amongst the blue of the city. It was round, and it seemed to be facing the hollow knight memorial. They looked familiar but they couldn’t pinpoint who it was.

Their train of thought halted when they sneezed.

The red figure below seemed to jump back and fll into a defensive stance. “Who goes there?!”

The Grimmchild sneezed again.

“Whoever you are, know that I, the Dung Defender, am not a foe but a hero to come help those that may be in need!”

Grimmchild rubbed their nose against their wing and peered out the window again to find the Dung Defender—one of the many bugs they and ghost fought--in a fighting stance now, shifting side to side as if waiting for his foe to jump at him. The pose made Grimmchild giggle despite still shivering from the cold and flew out the window, happy to see a familiar face.

Ogrim looked up to find the child hovering in front of his face. Ogrim yelped and took a step back, but regained himself when he realized it was just Grimmchild, the sidekick of the valiant knight they fought many times before.

He extended his arm out for the little one to latch onto. “Oho! Hello little flying fire-child, it has been awhile!”

The Grimmchild accepted the offer and lied on his arm, they nya in greeting and nuzzle him, despite every fiber of their being not to since he still smelled horribly of bug dung—even with the pelting rain, the dung defender was still not free of their infamous odor.

Ogrim laughed heartily at the affection but noted how oddly vacant the visit was until he noticed there was an absence of the little knight. He looked at the child, “Where is your companion, the little knight?”

Grimmchild frowned at the mention of their missing caretaker and mewed, curling in on itself as its eyes began to tear up. Ogrim understood and rubbed the child’s head. “Don’t you worry; I’ll help find the little one. After all that was what I’m here for!” He bellowed, resisting the urge to beat his chest with the child still clinging to their arm.

The child gave them a quizzical look, not understanding why he was here. Ogrim shrugged. “Normally I know I’m still not…welcomed,” he said carefully, “but when the earth shook and I heard what sounded like something collapse I rushed up as soon as I could to make sure everything was alright but…” He glanced around, noting how unsettlingly quiet it was. “…perhaps there was no need. Until you came along that is!”

Grimmchild was about to nya in understanding when they sneezed again.

Ogrim grew worried. “Oh, perhaps we should go somewhere else to figure out a plan: warm up and dry off, yes?”

Grimmchild smiled and nya’d in agreement.

Ogrim smiled back. “I know the perfect place,” he said as he made his way in the direction of the king’s station, “it’s got a good view, a hot spring, some beautiful decorations…” Ogrim continued to ramble on, holding the child close to provide as much protection from the rain as possible; the child clutching the charm case just as close.

Chapter Text

There was darkness. It emanated a soothing warmth Ghost have felt only a few times before. It did not scare them, not like before, but something seemed off; almost as if their mind was being stretched across this plane of darkness and into the unknown.

But then, a light shone forth, getting closer and closer until it took up their entire view. It was blurry at first but then it became crystal clear, they were looking at the blue lake, and off to the side was Quirrel’s sword, still etched in the sand where he had last left it. This time there was no figure sitting next to it, nor any hint of being able to move closer to the sword, but they still felt the mild breeze the area always seemed to give off.

Ghost’s thoughts drifted to the pill bug, they wondered if there was a way for them to tell Quirrel who they were, words alone may not be enough since they were never able to properly talk to the scholar to begin with—until now that is, but even so it may not be enough to convince him of their identity. Quirrel does not even know their name—or at least the name their half-sibling unknowingly bestowed upon them.

Perhaps their actions could?

Suddenly the scene vanished and they found themselves awake, back in Marissa’s place. Except…they were much smaller, and their wyrm body seemed to be coiled perfectly around Quirrel’s sleeping form. They gave a noise of surprise and tried their best to unfurl themselves, careful not to wake the sleeping bug. The others haven’t seemed to notice either. The Godseeker lies on her side on the floor while Lemm seems to be laying against her, his head laying on her stomach; a suitable replacement Ghost chuckled to themselves. They were tempted to wake them to see how they would react to being so close together, but decided against it and allowed them their rest from quite the day they had.

Antics aside, Ghost was surprised by how small they were now—yet another ability they seemed to have discovered by accident—perhaps this means they can change their size at will? Whatever the case, it was probably best not to try it out around their companions, in case something goes wrong and they accidentally cause another catastrophe.

Ghost sighed and fell back down, lying next to the sleeping pill bug. They were still much bigger than Quirrel, about twice his height, but it was much better compared to being about twice the height of the Hollow Knight memorial in the city center. It would definitely make moving about Hallownest much easier and less hazardous.

Speaking of moving about, they thought back to the dream they had, how Quirrel’s blade seemed to shimmer from the light reflecting off the water.

Their eyes widened and they bolted upright. They had an idea.

They looked over their shoulder and stared at the archway that led downstairs. They hesitated, deciding whether or not to wake the others or leave without a word. They looked back at Quirrel, seeing his peaceful face, their choice was made.

Slowly, they slithered away, and left the rest to continue their slumber.

******

They got to the lake much quicker than they thought they would. All of the bugs they ran into were dead and no longer infected, and their new body was much faster than their old one—though it still takes some getting used to, accidentally bumping into rocks and pillars here and there, though they were thankful it didn’t make earth shake like they did before when getting out of the void pit.

On the way, they never noticed how quiet and still everything was, it gave the shade lord an uneasy feeling, enough to make their shell crawl and be on constant alert for any unsuspecting foe to enter despite having destroyed the radiance and her infection.

It was only until now how dead the kingdom of Hallownest has become to Ghost.

Setting the unsettling thoughts aside, they stared out at the blue lake, feeling the breeze against shell and taking in the peaceful atmosphere it gave off; a contrast to the lonely atmosphere they felt before arriving here.

They sighed and turned away from the water, as much as they wanted to stay and enjoy the tranquility the lake offered, they needed to get back to the others. They grabbed the sword and held it tightly with two hands; almost as if they were scared it would fly away from their grasp and never be seen again. They held it close to their chest and nodded to themselves in silent resolve as they made their way back to the City of Tears.

******

The Hollow Knight could only watch as their sister disappeared from view, heading towards the direction of Greenpath and the domain of Unn. Their grip on their sword tightened in shame, disappointed that they couldn’t utter the words Hornet needed to hear and give her the answer she craved. They wanted so badly to go after her, even if they couldn’t speak they still wanted to remain by their side and make it up to her if not by words but maybe through their actions. But something tells them that that would not be a good idea, or maybe it was the cruel logic that was telling them that Hornet wouldn’t even allow them to be in her presence right now. Either way, the choice was made, and they headed in the opposite direction.

Careful of the tight corridors, they headed downwards, towards the old tram station. There, they can head to the resting grounds and then to the city of tears, where they can gain access to the old basin and head back to the palace in hopes of finding a clue to the whereabouts of the little knight. If not, they would then go to the abyss next.

They would start at the bottom and follow the paths leading upwards. They will search all of Hallownest if needed be to find their sibling and ask for the answers they desperately need: Is the Radiance truly gone? If the King fled, where did he go? What happened to the five great knights? The White Lady?

While the Pale King gave them the ability to see outside the Black Egg during their time keeping the Radiance sealed away, they could only catch glimpses from random parts of the kingdom at random intervals, they had no control of their father’s gift, much to their disappointment.

However, it wasn’t long after their captivation that they felt the presence of their father suddenly weaken greatly. They feared the worst. But from the implication Hornet gave it seems he only fled when the kingdom’s fate was sealed.

But the Hollow Knight couldn’t blame their father for fleeing, they knew firsthand how their father desperately looked for an alternative solution, to eradicate a being that only existed in dreams, but there was nothing and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

Not even with his own power.

If he died then the kingdom may as well have, but not all is lost. If the King is still alive, Hallownest can be revived, especially now that it seems that the radiance may truly be gone, he can rekindle the determination to start over, to inspire the survivors to join together and recreate Hallownest once more.

But first, The Hollow Knight must make sure that all threats are completely gone, and mend the bonds that have been broken since their containment in the Black Egg.

They jumped down from a small cliff and landed roughly, wincing when their legs made contact with the hard, solid ground. They still weren’t fully healed from their time in the black egg, nor were they in good shape compared to the days they were once referred shamefully as “The Pure Vessel”, but their condition has gotten better. They had Hornet to thank for that.

If only they could thank her now.

They shook their head to drive those thoughts out of their mind and slowly composed themselves, making their way through the wooden archway that marked the entrance to the tram station. When they entered they found the tram sitting in front of them, almost as if it was waiting patiently for the vessel all this time. They walked up to the small door and tried to slide it, but it wouldn’t budge. They looked closer to find a small slot embedded in the door, they softly banged their head against the door and huffed. They forgot you needed the tram pass to use the tram.

They clenched their sword tighter in thought. They couldn’t go to the fungal wastes, not with the many high drops that littered the area when the hollow knight could barely handle the small ones in the crossroads. They needed more time to heal before they could try and do that.

There was an elevator that led from the crossroads to the city of tears further west, or perhaps the stag station further upwards, but the hollow knight was already exhausted from the small trek from the hot springs, to the black egg, and then here. They don’t know if they could without collapsing. At least with the tram, they could sit and rest for a short period of time.

But then they had an idea. A bad one.

They stepped away from the door and walked back until there was a good distance between them and the tram. Then they crouched, with one leg stretched out in the back and the other bent in front of them. Then they sprinted. They ran as fast as their injured body could handle and rammed into the door, causing the hinges to break and the entire tram to almost capsize. Luckily, it didn’t, and it fell back into place with a loud thud.

They were successful, the door was broken and now the tram was free to use without the use of the stupid tram pass. Though they wished they didn’t use so much energy.

They slowly crawled onto the bench and sat against it, their horns hitting the windows behind them, and allowed every muscle to relax. They sighed and looked down at the broken door. If their father was here he probably would have let them have it for ‘being clumsy’ or ‘not being careful enough’ and proceed to give them an earful about grace, elegance, and presentation. They internally smiled at the memories where their father personally trained them to make use of their inherited soul abilities; he would make the biggest fuss whenever they messed up. They missed those days.

They wished they could relive those days again.

They prayed wherever their father was, he was okay.

******

The Hollow Knight awoke to find themselves still in the same position they were in before, inside the tram. They must’ve accidentally fallen asleep, but it was a rest they needed fore they were able to recover some of their energy. They decided that now would be a good time to continue their journey.

They grabbed their sword and went over to the lever and pulled it, but the tram did not move. They tried again but the tram still didn’t budge. There was a red light flashing next to them, they looked to find a small bulb flashing above the entranceway where the door used to be.

They were flabberghasted.

Apparently, the tram won’t move because the door is busted; most likely a safety precaution engineers built into it. A soft hiss escaped the hollow knight as they went over to the broken door and tried putting it back into its spot, but the door was too damaged to stay, instead it kept falling over. The Hollow Knight softly banged their head against the tram again.

They still can’t use the tram.

They wished there was another way to reach the resting grounds from the crossroads.

Their eyes lit up.

Or perhaps there was?

Ze’mer briefly mentioned it once; she said there was a small shortcut between the bottom sections of the crossroads that led directly to the blue lake that led to the resting grounds. Perhaps they could try using it now?

It’s not far away, just one level lower. It would be much quicker than going to the stag station or the elevator on the far side of the crossroads. Maybe it was still there?

There was only one way to find out.

******

It was small. Very small.

The large vessel could barely fit their head through the passageway. Too stubborn to try going anywhere else, they continued forward slowly as they wormed their way through with only the use of their sword arm.

It felt like forever until a beam of light cascaded their vision and they felt the familiar breeze against their shell. They were almost there, just one final pull-

And then they fell face first into the sand.

Apparently the passageway ended a few feet above the ground. Luckily it wasn’t too high for the Hollow Knight to handle. Though they now had a headache, they didn’t sustain any permanent damage and were able to recompose themselves just as quickly as they had fallen.

They were pleased with themselves when they reached the edge of the blue lake, it has felt like forever since they had visited this place, they had forgotten how peaceful the atmosphere was that the lake seemed to give off; enough to make the hollow knight drowsy.

They knelt down and placed their sword on the ground; they cupped their hand in the water and splashed water on their face. The last thing they need right now is to fall asleep, again.

They were about to do it again when movement caught their eye. They bolted their head upward and instinctively placed their hand on the hilt of the sword. They saw something move up ahead, on the other side of the lake, but it was too far away to make out clearly what bug it was—that is if it was a bug. They only had enough time to make something slithering away before it left through the exit that led to resting grounds.

That was no normal bug.

No bug slithers like that.

Unless…

Their eyes lit up and they jumped to their feet. Could it be? His presence still seems to be faded, but the sight before them gave them hope.

They jumped into the cold water and raced towards the other side.

Chapter Text

Hornet kicked a stray pebble into the acid below as she paced herself along the greenpath that she has walked upon so many times before, memorizing each and every step she took mechanically but without a hint of the usual grace and confidence she had before. Swarms of thoughts buzzed in her head, keeping her occupied as she steadily went deeper in the forgotten grove of moss and moss-kin.

She was indecisive. She was exhausted.

So much has happened in so little time it left her mind broken and her thoughts scattered. By instinct she returned to the domain that made her the most comfortable, the domain of Unn, and allowed herself to pace herself and explore the more forgotten areas in hopes of silencing the constant buzzing in her head.

The sound of the bubbly acid below and the incessant chirping from some of the surviving moss-kin didn’t help. She resolved to find a quieter place instead.

She traveled downwards into the more reclusive and less-traveled roads that, upon discovery, opened up into massive caverns where most of the ground was replaced with large pools of acidic water and large bugs hovering close to it, taking in the bubbly atmosphere the acid gave off.

Using her nail, she traversed the many pillars that littered the area and landed on the other side, where huge growths of thorns welcomed her; hidden behind them there looked to be a small entrance to another area. She peered inside, most of the room was covered in vines and thorns, so much so that it nearly blocked out all the light from the encompassing cavern. However, there was a large enough clearing free of the clutter and just bright enough for her to see without straining her eyes.

She entered the small grove and sat down in the clearing, placing her nail on her lap. She folded her legs and closed her eyes, focusing on the touch of her nail as she slowly drifted herself from her surroundings to her inner mind.

Meditation was never her strong suit, in fact she had always hated the idea of sitting still to focus ever since she was a larva, but it was a practice that the weaverlings and her mother assisted upon; a mastery said to help quell the ravenous instincts arachnids have from consuming their overall state of mind. Hornet didn’t seem to inherit any of the gruesome instincts her mother’s kind possesses but the meditation was still drilled into her nonetheless.

And now she feels desperate enough to use it.

She took a deep breath and exhaled. She repeated this over and over again as she clutched her nail tightly. Holding her nail always seemed to help ease her into an empty state of mind, a clutch that told her it was okay to lower her guard down. But even with the nail in her grasp she was having a hard time allowing herself to ease her tension. For so long she had to be aware, to be prepared, of the unknown. After all, how could you predict what a being trapped in a mental-state-of-form would do; an entity that rules the realm of dreams? Her walls have remained for so long that it has become second nature to her. Not once ever since her mother has become a dreamer has she allowed those walls to come down, even more so when she had finally met the hollow knight and conversed with them, she started to feel relieved and at ease. But the minute her sibling showed their true loyalty, her walls skyrocketed ever higher than before.

Her breathing hitched and her knuckles grew pale. Just the thought of them made her blood boil. She felt betrayed, and she didn’t know what was worse, the fact that her sibling still remains loyal to the king, or how she left them alone despite the fact that they were still very injured and too weak to properly fend for themselves.

She hated them for their loyalty, but also hated herself for allowing her emotions to get in the way of what was important: taking care of her sibling.

But now she doesn’t know what she should do and what she shouldn’t do, cast her hatred aside and help her sibling? Or punish them for their treacherous abidance by their father?

She stood up and threw her nail against the ground in vile fury. “Damnit!” Her nail plunged against the soft ground with a clean thrust, so hard it stood upright without the assistance of Hornet’s hands. She left it there, gazing at it with a pained look as she collapsed in on herself. She fell to her knees and gripped the ground beneath her. “Damnit.” She muttered as tears seeped from her eyes.

******

Quirrel found himself lying on the mildly-hard ground. His back ached again, but not so much as it was when he…well, broke it. Though now he wondered what happened to his wyrm friend. He slowly sat up, careful not to pull a muscle, and inspected the room. The giant was nowhere in sight, but his gaze stopped on the two other bugs, Lemm and Godseeker, with the former sleeping against the latter. Immediately his throat tickled as he forcibly held in a laugh, needing to look away and cover his mouth in doing so, making the bug suffer a mild coughing fit.

But while he was successful in holding in his laugh, his coughing fit caused the bugs to slowly arouse themselves from their slumber. Lemm was the first to blink his eyes open, but he still remained oblivious of who he was leaning against, most likely thinking he was still leaning against their new wyrm friend. He looked at Quirrel and narrowed his eyebrows at him in suspicion, the pill bug still covering his mouth and looking away from them. For a brief second, Quirrel looked back and his eyes locked with Lemm’s, causing another fit of coughs to erupt from Quirrel’s throat as he desperately tried to hold in his laugh.

Godseeker was the last to open her eyes, but remained unmoving, and was also oblivious to who was leaning against her. Unlike Lemm, she ignored Quirrel’s unusual behavior and scanned the room, her eyes widening when she realizes her master was absent. Before she could make a remark however, Lemm stretched his arms upwards and leaned them against the Godseeker’s stomach. “That was a good nap, haven’t had one that good in ages in fact.” He placed his hands and patted her stomach. “And it was all thanks to this eldritch monster creature…thing.”

Godseeker’s eyes widened as she stared at the older bug in disgust. “Excuse me?!”

Lemm’s eyes widened and he turned around. His face contorted from relaxed to horror as he took in who he had been laying against while he was out cold. He let out a yell and scrambled away on his knees.

Quirrel looked back again and exploded in laughter, watching the older bug crawl away from the godseeker with trauma in his eyes was the last crack to breaking Quirrel’s wall of composure.

When Lemm reached the other side of the room, he pushed his back against the wall and pointed an accusing finger at the godseeker. “Disgusting! I am not some doll for you to snuggle against!” Lemm screeched.

“Me?!” Godseeker yelled as she sat up. “You’re the abomination that decided to lay its filthy body against mine!”

“I did nothing of the sort!”

As the two argued, Quirrel slowly stopped laughing and was able to regain himself, though his silly smile never left his face. He cleared his throat and walked in between the two. “Now now, that’s enough bickering.” Quirrel intervened. “Besides, you two seemed to have had a very good nap. Isn’t that what matters most?”

Lemm gave him a look of pure hatred while the godseeker gave him a look of revulsion.

The two glaring down at the pill bug caused him to break once more and he started wheezing, his laughing fit consuming him. The two bugs started arguing again, while Quirrel fell to his knees and started to roll around on the floor, helpless and unable to stop laughing.

This continued for a long while, until the sound of someone bellowing out a war cry made everyone stop and look in the direction of the source. There stood a large, round bug with red armor with a smaller, winged bug being held close to him.

The knight stared at the bugs before him with curiosity. “Quite the trio we have here, eh?” Ogrim said quietly to the child in his arms.

It has been awhile since he had been in company of (non-murderous) bugs before his…well, before the kingdom fell, so Ogrim wasn’t entirely sure how he should properly react to two bugs screaming at each other while the third rolled around on the floor like a madman.

Though despite all the nonsense the bugs exhibited, Grimmchild was able to recognize all of them, remembering their encounters when they were with ghost vividly. Grimmchild chirped at the dung defender, as if telling him that it was okay and that the bugs here were actually friendly; well, at least one of them was.

Quirrel’s eyes met Grimmchild’s and the pill bug immediately recognized the small one to be the little ghost’s companion. He got up and rushed over to the two. Ogrim shifted uncomfortably but the Grimmchild chirped again and nudged his arm to ease him.

Quirrel stood before him and immediately a harsh stench pervaded his senses, he withheld a gag and stretched his arms out, trying so hard to be mannerly and not come out to be rude. “May I?”

Ogrim’s eyes lit up now that he got a better look at the scholar, something itched at the back of his head, as if his brain was trying to remember something but he couldn’t quite place it. As he contemplated, he realized he was staring and quickly shook his head. “Apologies, I-I uh…have we met before?”

Quirrel blinked. “I…don’t think so?” Quirrel answered with the same uncertainty.

Grimmchild nya’d and looked up at Ogrim, silently asking him to let Quirrel hold him. He acknowledged the silent request and gave the cold child to the pill bug.

“Oh my, you poor thing you’re freezing.” Quirrel commented quietly, allowing the child to wrap its wings around themselves before Quirrel could cradle them.

“Yes, I was hoping to help them warm up here in the hot spring.” Ogrim replied. “That’s why we’re here.”

“I see. I’ll go ahead and take them over to the water and help them warm up.”

Grimmchild grinned at the pill bug and nya’d happily. Ogrim watched him leave with the child in hand and head over to the murky hot springs. Ogrim scratched his head in mild thought, has the spring always looked grey?

“You.” Ogrim flinched and swerved to face Lemm staring at him intently with his eyebrows furrowed in thought. “Are you…are you one of the king’s great knights?”

The dung defender jumped at the title and instantly became very nervous. “Well I-“

“Not just a knight but one of many Hallownest’s gods!” The two glanced to the godseeker in bewilderment, Lemm’s expression more-so annoyed than shocked. “Ogrim, the Dung Defender, the White Defender, the kindly god of bravery and honor!”

Lemm crossed his arms and sighed. “Pretty sure gods don’t smell like shit.” He glanced at the confused knight next to him. “No offense.”

“None taken, I get that a lot actually.” Ogrim replied sheepishly, giving the grumpy bug an awkward smile, ignoring the fact that the godseeker called him a god…for whatever reason. Though her face did seem strangely familiar to him…

“So it is true then,” Lemm continued, “you were one of the king’s five great knights, Ogrim the White Defender.”

“Yes but I-“

Lemm darted in front of him, taking out a small journal and pen. “Tell me everything. I must know why you and the other knights were erased from history!”

“Wait erased? I-“

“Stupid commoner, leave the great defender alone!” The godseeker exclaimed, shoving the relic-seeker aside.

“Hey! What the-“ He fell to the ground with a loud thud.

Godseeker turned to the knight. “Apologies, great one, the drabble here are a little…clingy.”

“You’re one to talk you fat bitch.” Lemm muttered as he stood back, inspecting his journal to make sure it wasn’t damaged, before storming back over to her and Ogrim.

Quirrel watched the poor knight get caught between his supposed admirers as he dipped the small child in the shallow part of the hot springs. The grimmchild let out a happy nya, feeling the cold fade away and the warmth reenergize them.

Quirrel looked back at the child and chuckled. “Feel better?”

Grimmchild turned and flashed him a toothy grin.

Quirrel smiled back. “I take it that means yes?”

Grimmchild splashed with their wings, causing the scholar to get a little soaked. Quirrel yelled in mock anger as the grimmchild giggled, using their wings to bounce up and down in the water with delight.

Quirrel couldn’t stop smiling. “Boy aren’t you such a hyper child? I bet your companion had their hands full with you.”

Grimmchild stopped jumping and looked at Quirrel, their smile was replaced with a frown. Quirrel’s shoulder sagged and gave the little one an apologetic look. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hit a nerve.”

Grimmchild’s expression and sudden change in behavior made the scholar very worried. Did something happen to their stoic-friend? Now that think about it, whatever happened to their giant friend?

He looked down at the child. “Did you or your,” he glanced over at the red knight standing as a guard between the two revved up bugs, looking ready to battle it out, before glancing back down to the child, “’friend’ see any giant bugs on your way here?”

Grimmchild’s frown faded and they cocked their head to side in confusion. They gave him a questioning Nya before straightening their head out again.

Quirrel sighed. “I guess not.”

The child continued to soak in the bath, cradling the shiny case that was wrapped around them. Quirrel noticed and devised that perhaps it had belonged to their companion. He didn’t even know they had something like that, but it must be important enough for the child to cling to it so dearly.

He shook his head. He can’t afford to think such thoughts now; he needs to focus on what to do here in the present. What should he do now? His back is perfectly healed now; he doesn’t need to stay here any longer. And yet, at the same time, it felt wrong to just leave the others here what with Lemm losing most if not all his belongings and the godseeker losing her companion. He should at least wait until their giant friend came back before they should develop a plan for what to do next.

However, despite feeling the usual wander-lust he had always felt before and during his time here in Hallownest, there is a pit in his stomach; his palms start to get sweaty, his shell begins to feel brittle, and his body starts to get small spasms that causes him to involuntarily shudder every so often, as if his body rejects the idea of ever leaving this kingdom. This was definitely a new sensation he had never felt before, he doesn’t know what this means but his best guess would be is that it wasn’t good…or natural.

Just when the plague seems to fade Quirrel seems to have more problems to deal with.

The Dung Defender’s voice brought Quirrel out of his stupor and subconsciously looked back over to the trio over by the entrance.

“Everyone please calm down!” Ogrim begged, standing in-between the two bugs as they tried to claw at each other.

“No way! I’m tired of this bitch always getting in my way!” Lemm snarled holding his pen as if it was a nail, swinging it left and right maniacally. “I’m going to avenge my shop here and now!”

“You can try you vile worm! I have been attuned to thousands of gods from lands far beyond this realm, so far you’re miniscule mind cannot even fathom! I will be the one that will be victorious!” Godseeker spat.

Ogrim continued to hold them off, placing each claw on their chest to prevent them from advancing. “Stop this nonsense at once! I have no idea why both of you are so angry but I’m sure we can work this out with words and-“

Suddenly Ogrim stopped talking and grew still. His antennas twitched violently.

Quirrel focused on him intently, noting the sudden change in the knight’s behavior when he finally noticed a dark figure shifting behind the knight. He held his breath, grabbing the confused child from the water to hold them protectively.

All of sudden Ogrim shoved both bugs harshly in opposite directions and spun around to face the unknown figure head-on. The entity flinched and seemed to shift backwards.

“Step into the light unknown assailant!” Ogrim commanded, shifting into a fighting stance.

The figure seemed to freeze at the accusation but after a moment they seemed to resign themselves and shift closer to the light as slowly as possible to not provoke the knight further. Once they did, everyone’s eyes landed on the familiar form of their giant friend, though no longer giant. But while Quirrel was shocked at the sudden appearance of their new friend, their focus quickly drew to the nail that glimmered in their arms.

Quirrel lowered his guard. “Is…is that my…“

Though Quirrel’s voice was soft and directed more to himself than anyone else, their friend shifted their gaze to him and smiled, holding up the nail in affirmation.

Quirrel didn’t understand. Did they leave just so they could retrieve his old nail? How did they even know that it was his? They had never met before the time he broke his back, right?

The grimmchild squirmed in his grasp, their eyes a burning scarlet as their body began to burn. Quirrel seethed in pain and forcibly let go, allowing the child to hover by him. They stared intensely at their friend. Their eyes seem to glimmer and shine in promise, though Quirrel had no idea why.

Then realization struck him. He turned to his friend. “Stoic-one…” The wyrm’s shoulder’s hitched at the name. “…is that you?”

The wyrm’s smile seemed to grow bigger and it nodded, its eyes shining from the excessive soul that threatened to spill out.

But then their face fell and they lost their grip on Quirrel’s sword.

Time seemed to freeze as Quirrel’s eyes widened.

Ogrim stared at the wyrm in shock.

Lemm and godseeker watched the scene from their opposing sides; Lemm was stricken with fear, for godseeker it was despair.

They all watched as a large nail impaled the shade lord’s chest from behind.

Chapter Text

It was fast, very fast. The Hollow Knight sprinted after the familiar creature, using their nail as extra weight to help bolster their speed as they waved it to and fro. The creature they were chasing seemed to be in a hurry as they easily wormed their way through tight corridors and confined areas. Every time the hollow knight entered the room they would always only have a short glimpse of the bug they were following before they fled into the next room. This repeated many times.

When they reached the upper level of the city of tears, things became complicated. The hollow knight’s energy was completely depleted, and they started to lose sight of their target. Luckily, they were able to spot functional elevators that they could use to their advantage. Though small and tight for the large bug, they were able to catch their breath for a moment before the elevator reached its level limitation before they could get off and continue their pursuit.

Upon reaching the king’s station, every fiber of the hollow knight’s body began to protest in agony. Their muscles ached from deficient use and their newly-formed scars burned—though the sensation wasn’t even close to when the radiance’s light scorched them from the inside, it was still incredibly painful.

They reached their limit and they knew it, but they couldn’t afford to stop now. They may never have a chance like this again.

They pushed their legs into a sprint again, barreling down the streets that accompanied many of the prestigious family homes. They entered the area just in time to see the mysterious bug disappear behind one of the doors from the upper level.

Have they reached the end of their pursuit?  They prayed that was the case.

With legs burning and muscles tightened to the point of snapping, they leapt onto the ledges, one after another, until they finally reached the door the bug went through. They took a moment to catch their breath once more before turning the knob and entering the room.

Inside was dimly lit and it reeked of old leather. It was big, just enough for the hollow knight to stand up without having to hunch over to prevent their head from hitting the ceiling. They saw a lever for the elevator and pulled it. Staring upwards, they realized that the elevator might take a while before it could reach their level. In the meantime, they looked around and settled their gaze on a small corpse off to the side. It was hunched over and it seemed to be in a fetal position. The hollow knight was familiar with corpses by now, even before it was sealed away, but for some reason seeing this one made its chest feel tight.

Perhaps it was because it was a random, innocent citizen? There were no signs of the infection ever touching it, nor do any wounds appear to be on their shell either, judging from their distance. The bug most likely died from starvation. But “why” was the scarier question; in such a high-end, prestigious location? Surely their reserves here would be satisfactory enough to last years even after the fall of the kingdom.

Right?

They thought back to their sister and how tired she looked, and how enraged she was when they still had faith in their father. They knew Hallownest suffered, even when they sealed away the radiance, but the reality of it being showcased to them like this was…unbearable.

When the elevator arrived, they didn’t hesitate. They quickly entered the small cage and hit the lever. As they ascended, they put those thoughts aside and focused on what needs to be done now: find their father, find their sibling, and all will fall into place.

When they reached the top, they carefully hopped off and entered the room in front of them, there was a small stage with a few seats still intact, but most of the room was covered with fallen debris that once made up the ceiling, and broken chandeliers surrounded by shattered glass and gems.

However the room was vacant and void of life, so they leapt upwards to the next level.

Upon reaching the upper corridor they heard voices and stopped. Their heart raced as they listened in, hoping to hear their father’s voice, however none of them matched. Though, they all sounded vaguely familiar.

But there was one voice that was clear as day: Ogrim’s, the white defender. They lifted their head at his voice. They remembered sparring with him, batting him around like a kickball with their nail, but it was all fun and games until he threw a ball of dung at you. They were glad their sense of smell was very dull compared to the average bug.

Orgrim’s roar startled them out of their thoughts.

Something was wrong.

They crept closer, trying not to make a sound, as they peeked their head into the room. There was Ogrim in a defensive stance, but instead of wearing his signature white armor he wore red. But what caught their attention the most was the bug standing before him. They were very tall wyrm-like creature with a shell as black as night, the opposite of their father; in fact, they seemed to give off an aura of darkness too reminiscent of the abyss they came from.

Were they the one they were following? How they could confuse that thing with their father?

The thought sent chills down the hollow knight’s spine.

But then the dark creature held something up and the hollow knight’s eyes darkened. It was nail.

This creature was about to kill Ogrim. That must be it!

They can’t allow that to happen!

The hollow knight’s grip tightened on their blade as they rushed into the room. They held up their nail against their chest and, without a second thought, thrusted their nail into the eldritch creature’s back with enough force to cause the end of their nail to protrude from its chest.

The creature gave out a muffled, static cry. Its claws twitched and loosened enough for the nail in their grasp to numbly slide out of their palms and fall to floor with a muffled clatter. Its limbs gave out and fell to its sides, its balance now fully dependent on the nail that pierced them and the knight that struck them.

Confident enough that the beast was subdued, they withdrew their nail and swung it to the floor to remove the black essence that tarnished their blade. Without the support of the nail, the creature fell forward and landed on its stomach, the blackness staining the carpet surrounding it.

Ogrim stared at the fallen creature and then to the knight, his eyes widened in shock, but then with recognition. For a moment the two knights stared at each other in bewilderment, as if silently conversing how happy they were to see each other still alive when suddenly a cry pierced the silence.

They looked over to find a small pill bug charging at them, tears streaming down his face as he reached for the fallen nail. He slid and gracefully grabbed the nail from the floor without losing his momentum and raised it over his head, ready to slash at the knight.

The dark creature slowly held their head up and weakly reached out for the mad bug, seemingly begging for him not to do it, but the plea went unnoticed as the bug remained in front of the knight, ready to sate his sudden, uncharacteristic bloodlust. Quirrel swung and the hollow knight blocked it. Though their muscles were being pulled and teared, the hollow knight still had enough strength to push the scholar back, easily making him lose his balance and his grip on the nail. They dashed forward and slashed the bug across his chest, sending him back halfway across the room.  

Quirrel slid across the carpet, losing his grip on his nail entirely, and collapsed under the sudden heavy weight of gravity. One of the bugs sitting idle cried out for him and rushed over as quickly as possible. The other one simply sat there and stared incredulously down at the black matter that now began to stain the bottom of her shell.

Quirrel tried to stand back up again but he found himself staggered and hunching over in pain. Black oozed from a large cut in his chest and dripped excessively down his stomach and onto his legs before joining the ground. Quirrel crumpled in time for his friend to catch him in his trembling arms and ceased to move. The older bug panicked as they brought him to the floor, taking off his jacket to smother the wound as much as possible.

But unlike the other bugs, the Grimmchild stayed in place, hovering in the air as scarlet tears graced the corners of their eyes. So much was happening, so much tragedy, they didn’t know what to do. They could only stare at the eldritch beast and Quirrel ooze void in despair. Not knowing what else to do, they glided over to Quirrel and Lemm and did the only thing they could muster up: they cried.

Ogrim watched this in horror, his body unmoving and his will shaken. He could only move his head as his attention was caught by a the eldritch beast’s hand still reaching towards Quirrel, its eyes bright and muddled from the excessive soul spilling out and mixing with the void beneath. Soon the hand fell to the floor and their head lowered to face the ground. It’s body trembled in what looked to be fits of torment and anguish.

Ogrim clenched his claw. How could he let this happen? How could his senses have dimmed so that he could miss an attack from a hidden assai-

He looked over to the once prestigious pure vessel and held his breath. No, they were no longer the famed Hollow Knight that was trained by the Pale King and his knights; now stood a broken, tormented, confused child. How could he not notice their wounds, their scars—their missing arm?—from when they first locked eyes in such a long time?

Ogrim furrowed his brow and unclenched his claw, now was not the time to kick himself, he needed to stop this before it worse.

He went to grab the hollow knight’s only arm when a loud growl interrupted him. A sudden wave of darkness erupted and surrounded the two knights.

The aura that surrounded them became thick with malice and despair and it made it hard for Ogrim to breathe while the hollow knight fell to their knees from the sudden added weight. Ogrim pivoted in time to see the hollow knight collapse from exhaustion, its nail landing by their side. Ogrim rushed over as fast as he could and awkwardly knelt down as best he could what with the shape of his armor and assessed the vessel’s condition. Ogrim sighed inwardly, happy that it wasn’t serious, but he still needed to get them over to the hot spring-

Before he could finish his train of thought, a louder growl shook the walls as a giant shadow swelled before him; the wound that was inflicted upon them before swirled and closed in on itself, leaving no trace of it ever being there. It grew until their head was shy of the ceiling before turning to gaze down at the two knights, its eyes glowed a sickly white as it opened its hidden maw to reveal a row of sharp teeth. Ogrim froze, never had he seen anything so terrifying in his life. Its large claws clenched the floor, causing it to crack and break. It leaned its head close, so close that Ogrim was reaching distance from touching its chin. Its eyes were like spotlights as the enraged beast continued to glare down at the knights.

Then it roared.

The entire building shook and whatever remained of the glass window that was undamaged before was completely shattered from the shockwave. Lemm screamed and held Quirrel and the Grimmchild tightly. The Godseeker held onto the eldritch beast’s tail for dear life as its roar caused the cracks to spread and the stone under the carpet to break and splinter.

Ogrim tried his best to fight back the sudden wave of air crashing into him and the unconscious knight, but even with his weight and that of their fallen friend, they were pushed back into the corridor that led towards the lower levels of the building.

The Shade lord advanced, moving close enough to reach the edge of the room without the effort of trying to squeeze into the small hallway. Its eyes continued to bore down on them, its rage and fury unquenched and just short of pure bloodlust.

Ogrim couldn’t look away from those terrifying spotlights. He clutched the hollow knight, as much as he wanted to move, to try to lift their friend and flee, those eyes kept him there. It was not hypnotism that rooted the dung defender to his spot, but the guilt and shame he tried to withhold when his inaction led to two bugs to suffer mortal wounds—or at least one seemed to be.

He wished he could say I’m sorry and put everything aside but the cost of his inaction was much too great.

Out of options, he closed his eyes and lowered his head in submission. He wondered what Isma would have done in this situation. Ogrim’s form hitched at the thought, he truly wished Isma was here with him.

The beast clenched their claws into a fist, lifted it over their shoulder, and swung; and with one final, earth-shattering roar, they obliterated the side of the building.

Chapter Text

As the side of the building collapsed into the street, the remaining side began to crumble as well. The cracks on the floor connected and broke into pieces. Before the Shade lord could realize what it had done—and who they did it to—the floor beneath it fell away and they instinctively clung to the other wall that stubbornly remained intact. The sudden surprise brought the giant beast to their senses only to watch in horror as the floor crumbled under Lemm and Quirrel. The Grimmchild, trying to take flight, scrambled in Lemm’s grip but the terror clouded the old bug’s mind as he clung to the child and Quirrel for dear life.

The floor gave way and all three of the bugs fell. Without a thought or a plan in mind the large beast lunged forward and successfully grabbed the trio in the palm of one of their lower set of hands, but it cost them their place on the sturdy wall. They immediately clung to the other wall, their sudden weight making it groan and crack as their upper set of claws dug into the steel-like material.

They heard a scream from below and looked down to find the Godseeker miraculously still holding onto their tail. The momentum from the jump caused their tail to slam into the wall, narrowly missing their passenger by a few inches, but the blow weakened her grip greatly and she started to slip.

Allowing their instincts to take control, the shade lord flicked their tail upwards and the godseeker flew into the air just high enough for her to reach the same height as the shade lord’s horn before she fell into the waiting palm of their other hand. Under normal circumstances they would be awestruck by their new trick, but now was not the time. It won’t be long until the entire building collapsed onto them. They needed to get out and fast.

They eyed the window that they used to break into the room when they first arrived here and climbed their way towards it. They hugged the walls, avoiding the constant falling debris and chandeliers. A few times they had to stop and protect their lower hands as rocks struck them from above, but luckily it didn’t give the behemoth too much damage.

When they reached the window, however, they froze in horror. This building wasn’t the only one collapsing; most of the city was collapsing. The most dreadful of all being the small waterfalls scattered all over. They gazed up at the cavern to find the cracks to have covered most of it, and the cracks were beginning to widen and break apart. It won’t be long before the entire city was washed away in the coming flood.

They were stricken with fear.

What have they done?

They didn’t know what to do.

They did this. They caused this.

The heavy feeling in their chest wouldn’t go away.

It’s all their fault.

It’s all their fault!

“My shade lord!” A voice brought them out of their destructive thoughts and they opened the hand that contained the godseeker. She gazed up at them. “We must escape this place! Now is not the time for shame and self-doubt!”

They remained still, unsure of what to do anymore. They gave her a helpless look. “I know things look grave but you are underestimating your power O great god of gods!” The godseeker rubbed the tip of its thumb in reassurance. “You have proved it many times.”

While that did make them feel a little better, they still don’t understand what she’s trying to imply. “You are void incarnate—you are Void given focus—you can manipulate the void to do whatever you want; you allowed it to heal yourself and your follower, you allowed it to change your size, and you can infect anything, living or non-living.”

They thought back to the time when they arrived back into the real world from godhome after slaying the radiance, how their nature corrupted the water and the junk pit. If she was right, couldn’t they infect the water and manipulate it the void from it? Given how there wasn’t anywhere they could go without a building falling on them, or an exit too small to enter, or worse; make one and risk the entire, vulnerable cavern to collapse in on itself from the force and dooming the rest of Hallownest, there was no escape. This looked to be the only way without sacrificing themselves or others in the process.

They gave the godseeker one last look. She nodded, “You can do this.” The shade lord gave them a nervous smile and closed the palm of their hand once more. They looked to the nearest body of water and leapt.

*******

Hornet stayed like that for a long time, her claws gripping the dirt when there was a sudden shockwave. The ground shook menacingly and managed to dislodge her nail from the dirt. She caught her needle before it could fall and held onto it dearly. From how bad the earth quaked, she thought the floor beneath her would collapse. Luckily it did not, but it did nothing to soothe the child of the beast as twigs and remnants of the prickly vines rained from the ceiling.

This was worse than the earthquake from before, how could something like this happen so quickly after the destruction of the radiant one? Did most of her infection create columns or supports for the weak and brittle structures before her demise? Is that why so much of Hallownest is experiencing these tremors? Hornet didn’t know, but made it her new mission to figure that out.

A distraction for her inner turmoil, she reasoned.

When the earthquake stopped, there was a voice from above.“Agh not again!”

Hornet lifted her head to the sound and gazed up at the small entrance above her. Was there another bug here as well?

“Damn these tremors, our hard work…all for naught!”

“Now, now,” Another bug answered, “we can make more. We have all the time in the world.”

Hornet decided to investigate, if there are bugs that survived the plague, it’s her duty to help them in any way she can now that she is the closest thing to an ally and ruler of this forsaken kingdom.

Using her needle, she whipped through the small entrance in the grove and came upon a small house. It wasn’t anything special regarding the architecture, but it was still a surprising find. In all the time she has been here, Hornet never knew this place existed in the kingdom of Unn.

She crept closer to the entrance, wary of whether or not these bugs were hostile or not despite the vacant infection—even if they were now in their right mind, it doesn’t mean they are now kind and good-natured, they can still be agressive or wicked. An image of the pale king flashed in her mind before she angrily dismissed the thought as quick as it came, she can’t afford to let her emotions get in the way right now.

When she was only a foot away from the entrance, she pressed her head against the frame and listened closer, in hopes of judging their motives and moral compass before deciding what to do next.

One bug sighed. “Y-you’re right. I shouldn’t get angry over something like this, I just hate it when I pour my hard work into something only for it to get destroyed, o-or let someone to just throw it away…or…or…”

“I understand. It hurts, but it’s a pain that shouldn’t linger, it’ll only make you angry and negative. It is a lessoned I have learned…many times, but luckily this type of pain is easier to manage every time, unlike others.”

The other companion let out a gruff sigh. “At least the tremors are gone.”

Hornet listened and judged them to be morally well-off. One bug is obviously very knowledgeable and wise, perhaps humble. The other, not so much, but its voice seems to hold a lot of regret and trepidation; completely opposite of their friend.

Hornet took a deep breath and stepped out of the corner and into the entrance; she was greeted with a scene of a room entirely littered with all kinds of art pieces and art tools. Some were broken, some littered on the floor, and some were knocked over, but the damage didn’t seem to be too bad. In the middle were two bugs sitting on the floor with their legs crossed, gazing down at broken miniatures of what she believed to be the once glorified five great knights.

The two noticed the shadow in the doorway and locked eyes with Hornet’s. To her surprise, their expressions were void of fear or suspicion, unlike the many faces that had always graced her menacing vintage; it actually made her a little uncomfortable.

“Oh a guest.” The bigger bug commented. He patted the next to him, “Welcome, have a seat if you like.”

Hornet hesitated, wondering if she made a mistake in revealing herself when she noticed none of them had a weapon. The closest thing the bigger bug had to a weapon was a paintbrush, and she was confident that there was nothing he could do to harm her with it.

She relented and sheathed her needle. She walked up to the two bugs and reluctantly sat down in front of them. The bigger bug stared at her, as if expecting an answer while the other solemnly gazed down at the broken Ogrim figure in his claws. After an agonizing minute of silence, Hornet realized that she hasn’t had a proper conversation in years, and now she has absolutely no idea how to start one without being threatening.

She could feel her shell flush in embarrassment. Crap, she cursed to herself.

*******

They made sure to clasp their hands tightly together before hitting the water, making sure their friends would remain dry and out of harm’s way. Fully submerged, they closed their eyes and focused, allowing themselves to meld with the water around them. It was hard at first, their form resisting the change, but the thought of losing any of their friends gave them the trigger for their form to slowly dissipate. The water began to be stained with black, the tendrils of darkness spreading across the canals and up the waterfalls to the blue lake above until all was void and only void.

They focused, allowing their consciousness to stretch to all the regions that the void touched. They focused on one thing:

FORM

At command the void rose from its confinements and filled the streets of the broken city. It waved through corridors and crawled up the cavern walls and the building structures all across the city until all was stained black and one with the void. It hardened and reformed the structures, the walls, and the décor, everything that made up the city of tears from the shade lord’s memory until the last crack was erased from existence. The city was no longer a dark blue but a pale black as the void reshaped everything.

Whatever did not plague the city, flooded back up the cavern ceiling—mending the cracks and covering it with a thick layer for good measure—and into the lake that was no longer blue.

When they believed their work had been done, they shrank their influence back to one physical point and allowed their body to reform once again. Once their physical body was back, they ascended to the surface to find themselves clinging to the shores of the now black lake.

They heaved themselves sluggishly over the ledge and onto dry land, their energy spent and their body weak. Unfortunately, endurance is gained through constant practice and the shade lord had none of that.

They opened their lower hands to find their friends all safe and sound to their relief. But as much as they wanted to celebrate their victory, the shade lord’s head became light and their eyes, heavy. They slipped into unconsciousness before any of them could say a word.

Chapter Text

It was bright. Very bright.

But it was a brightness that comforted the tall knight no matter how much it made the void inside them fester and squirm.

The light dimmed to reveal a small figure looking out the balcony. Their balcony. Their special place. This is where they always go to either calm themselves or wish to be alone. Other than the throne room, this is where the Pale King spends most of his time. It became the Hollow Knight’s favorite room too.

“My Hollow Knight,” The king beckoned, unmoving and still staring out at the view before him. They kneeled before him in response, allowing his soft, yet prosperous voice to echo in their mind; not even the sound of their armor clattering against the ground was enough to pierce his voice. “Please stand.” The command was even softer, more wavering than it should be.

The Hollow Knight did as they were told without second thought and slowly approached their king, it was only when they were a foot away did the king turn to face them. Their crown was as magnificent as it has always been, but his normal visage seemed to have deteriorated. His eyes sulked and his hands shook, he had his back hunched and his cloak was in disarray. To many his drastic appearance would have alarmed or stricken his subjects with panic and worry, but to the Hollow Knight it was a sight they were accustomed to seeing.

The Pale King was always good at playing pretend, after all.

He held his shaky hands up and cupped them. The Hollow Knight knelt down and laid their head upon his father’s outstretched hands, allowing his father to rub his shell with his thumbs in soft, circular motions. They stayed like that for a while, the silence deafening as the pure vessel waited for the answer to why they were suddenly summoned here. It was rare for them to be summoned so suddenly, especially when they were supposed to be training with his highly-esteemed knights.

Luckily they did not have to wait long. “Tomorrow is the day.” He finally said, moving one of his hands so he could stroke in between the horns. He allowed the words to sink in; even though his answer was very vague the Hollow Knight knew what he was talking about and fully understood why the King looked as bad as he did. “The preparations have already been completed; we leave early, before the kingdom is awake and aware. You will fulfill your duty and you will succeed.” His voice wavered again at the end, his hand gripping hard on their shell.

I reached my hand up and grabbed one of his and gave it a small squeeze. He weakly tried to take his hand back but the Hollow Knight wouldn’t allow it, instead they kept his hand there—pressed against their shell—and they used their other hand to raise their father’s chin so their eyes could lock with his. The King has tried so hard to remain vigilant, to remain strong and proud for his people, but unbeknownst to them his sacrifices and failed attempts to solve the problem ate him up inside. So much so that he was barely himself anymore and the Hollow Knight knew this.

It was as if he became Hollow himself.

The King gave him an empty look as he was forced stare into their eyes. They gave them a look of determination and nodded their head in confidence. They wanted so much to tell him that everything was going to be okay and that they will do everything in their power to fulfill their duty, but doing so would only cause the king more pain and suffering. They did the next best thing and embraced him in their arms.

They had hugged him a few times before, but the King always shrugged it off as a poor habit they had developed from the White Lady, but this time—just this once—the king hugged him back, his little arms and hands barely able to touch their back, but it was still a gesture that warmed the pure vessel’s aching heart.

They knew that this was a moment that they will always treasure.

Everything grew bright then as light enveloped the balcony, their forms evaporated into the light. It all had happened so fast that the hollow knight was barely able to make out their father’s final words:

Please forgive me, my child.

******

The sound of something dripping into a puddle slowly aroused the injured knight from their dream. All was quiet except for the plip plip of the water and the soft, but heavy breathing of someone next to them. When they opened their eyes, they found themselves in another, more desolate-looking tram with black liquid dripping from the hole in the ceiling. Their body ached greatly, their legs felt very strained and stiff, and they felt like their body was thrashed over and over again.

They tried to get up, at least into a sitting position, but their body did not comply. Instead they were hit with what felt like a thousand needles stabbing into their arm and legs. They immediately gave up and dropped to the floor.

They don’t remember much, but they do remember trying to protect Ogrim from the threatening black wyrm. There were others there, one of them also tried to attack and they were able to wound them enough to cause them to blackout, yet everything after is hazy.

There was the sound of shuffling and the hollow knight quickly pivoted its head towards the direction of the source. They relaxed when it was just Ogrim, but the sight of him caused the hollow knight to hold their breath in shock. Most of his armor was gone and whatever was left was broken and looked ready to shatter from even the softest touch. His blue fur was coated with red and his right arm swayed numbly by his side.

To say he was in bad condition was an understatement.

The hollow knight tried to get up again but the pain forced them back onto the ground. “Don’t move!” Ogrim protested, reaching out his left claw to softly rub their shoulder. “You’re in pretty bad condition, more so than me I believe.”

The hollow knight doubted it, but then again it didn’t seem like they would be able to get up without experiencing an absurd amount of pain.

“We got a good thrashing too,” Ogrim continued dejectedly, “the building collapsed on us, and then there was a flood, and then…” He gestured to the tram they were in. “…and we ended up here.”

The hollow knight didn’t how to respond to that. The building fell on them? There was a flood? What in the world happened while they were out?! They tried to gesture this but their arm was uncooperative from the pain.

So they tried to speak. “What….happened…?”

Ogrim stared at them with wide eyes. He sat there and gawked at the hollow knight for what seemed like forever. Ogrim’s silence was very uncomfortable, but thankfully it did not last long.

Ogrim laughed. “Ha, I must have hit my head! ‘Cause I could have sworn you just talked to me.”

The hollow knight knew that this would be an uncomfortable conversation sooner or later and would’ve rather waited until they had the courage to do so, but the way things are right now there was no other way they could properly communicate without inducing unnecessary pain onto themselves. But they need the information that only Ogrim has.

“I…did…”

Ogrim’s happy façade dropped and was left staring at the knight again. “Impossible…y-you cannot talk. You are the Hollow Knight, the king told me and the others! That’s how the king created you, to be void of emotion and thought so you could be the perfect vessel to seal…the…radiance…away…” Something clicked in his mind and he stopped talking. He gave the hollow knight a sheepish look and softly muttered ‘I’m sorry’ before curling in on himself to form a perfect ball.

The hollow knight instinctively tried to reach their hand out to the sad dung beetle but recoiled from the pain.  Their voice, though very quiet and slow from its misuse was the only form of comfort they could try to provide for the beetle.

“Please…don’t…blame…yourself…” The dung beetle unfurled a little from the sound of their voice.  “It’s…alright…”

Ogrim unfurled completely and gave the hollow knight a sad look. “I always knew that plan wasn’t such a good idea.” He muttered, looking away, finding value in the suddenly interesting broken ceiling. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more for you.”

His mind was berated with flashbacks from when they were in the hot springs, and how he stood there as the hollow knight attacked two of the occupants. His face grew dark from the memory.

“Tell me,” his voice quivered, it was laced with bewilderment, “what made you attack those bugs when we were at the hot springs?”

The hollow knight was surprised by the sudden question, even more so from his tone; as if what he did was wrong. “That…creature…” They started, unsure of what to say, “…it…was…going…to…hurt…you?” They thought what they did was right, but judging from the aura that Ogrim gave off they weren’t entirely sure anymore. Thinking back on it now, it didn’t attack at the moment but they thought it was because they beat them to the punch. They never thought of the idea that they wouldn’t attack at all.

But the aura that thing gave off—the darkness of its form—they thought for sure it was hostile.

Ogrim looked at the knight with sad eyes, but his aura seemed to change. “I thought so too, at first.” The hollow knight blinked in surprise; so they weren’t entirely wrong. “I thought it snuck up behind me, but me having such good perception I knew it was there, that’s when I prepared myself to dodge or block any attack it would make.” Ogrim sighed and shook his head. “But it didn’t. In fact, it gave me the most innocent face an eldritch creature like that could make. The other occupants actually responded well to the sudden intruder, which surprised me more than it should.”

The hollow knight was very surprised from this information. Though it was very comforting to know they weren’t the only ones that thought the creature was a hazard waiting to happen. But then it sank in, what they attacked was not hostile at all nor had any plan to attack anyone or anything; they stabbed an innocent creature.

Ogrim’s voice rang clear in their mind. “But then, out of nowhere, you came and attacked it.” The hollow knight’s face grew dark and nodded their head with shameful acceptance.  They meant no ill will, they knew that, but it still stung to know that what they did was wrong and unforgiveable. “And then one of the occupants came to attack you, you successfully defended yourself, but inflicted a disastrous attack on him as well.” Ogrim’s face fell. “And I did nothing.”

The hollow knight raised their head and gazed at the uncharacteristic, solemn face of a broken knight. They tried to say something comforting, but Ogrim beat them to it.

“My inaction was unforgiveable. You were not in the wrong, I was.” Tears threatened to spill from his eyes. “If only I had done something, anything, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

They blinked and tilted their head in confusion. “What…happened…?”

Ogrim wiped his tears away and looked down at the hollow knight with a very grim expression. “That creature you stabbed got angry. It easily wiped out the building and the collapse took us with it. But I couldn’t blame it though, what I did was unforgiveable.”

Their eyes widened. “The…creature…did…that…?” Perhaps it was not ill judged that they knew the creature was capable of great harm, but it still wasn’t an excuse to blindly attack them from empty speculation alone.  

“Then there was a sudden flood, and I blacked out.” Ogrim finished, his eyes tired and his body sunken. The sight reminded them too much of their father.

Despite the pain this time, they inched their arm forward until it barely tapped what remained of Ogrim’s armor. The dung beetle looked up and held their hand in its claw, careful not to cause any more pain to the hollow knight. “We…are…both…to…blame, not…just…you. I’m sorry.”

For the first time in a while Ogrim smiled, it was a sad smile but it was still a smile, and they would take that in a heartbeat. “Ah, thank you.” He didn’t know what to say but opted for a sincere reprisal in hopes to start pushing this sin past him and his new companion.

Chapter Text

All fell silent when the shade lord collapsed onto its back into exhaustion, its arms and hands going limp and falling onto its chest. The small group was shaken from their experience, a combination of fear, adrenaline, and for some, anxiety. Lemm couldn’t stop shaking as he held Quirrel up the best he could, slinging his limp arm over his shoulder as a makeshift crutch. Luckily, or unluckily, Quirrel has remained unconscious and oblivious to what has transpired. His wound still looked bad but at least it had ceased its oozing of what Lemm believed to be the same matter that composed the shade lord.

Grimmchild remained terrified, but surprisingly they showed it the least. Instead their expression twisted into curiosity and they closed their eyes. They had felt it when they were at the hot spring, the spark of a very faint flame, the flame that they recognized to be from their charm shortly before disaster had struck. They still feel it, and it’s very close, but the problem was that it was so faint that they couldn’t pinpoint where it was. Whatever it was that seemed to be causing the flame to ignite in weak, almost unnoticeable sparks must be very powerful creature.

They hoped their friend was alright, wherever they were.

The godseeker wouldn’t stop muttering to herself, filled more with adrenaline than anything else. She thanked the god of gods and did her best to bow in their direction. Though doing so made Lemm very agitated and flabbergasted.

Lemm stopped shaking and made his way over to the shade lord’s side and, very carefully, slid down and landed on the ground with Quirrel in tow. Grimmchild watched this in bemusement, conflicted on whether or not to follow the older bug or to stay with the squishier one. They were close to the source of their charm, they could feel it, and they didn’t want to leave now. And yet, for all they knew, their friend may perhaps be in the room above them and not going with the relic-seeker would, too, be a big mistake. They didn’t know what to do.

After giving thanks to their rescuer in the form of muffled prayers, the Godseeker sat up just in time to see Lemm dragging the shade lord’s ‘prophet’ up towards the small entrance in the back of the room.

“Where are you going?!” She called.

Lemm paused and glared at her, “Away.”

She gave him a baffled look. “Why? Our shade lord just saved us from drowning and is now at their weakest! We must stay in case anymore heathens try to destroy them!”

“Considering what it has done and what it has been doing, I’m pretty damn sure it can take care of itself!” Lemm hissed, continuing his march towards the small passageway.

Godseeker scrambled back up again and tried to follow, only to fall on the ground hard onto her stomach. She lied there, stunned and out of breath as she angrily reached towards the stubborn man. She tried to yell at him to come back, but only ended up gasping and coughing as she desperately tried to stabilize herself again.

Grimmchild watched this and felt a pit in its gut as the Godseeker’s body shook and wheezed. They immediately flew over to the bug in distress and landed in the ground in front of her, trying to figure out what to do to help her. The clattering of their charm box gave them an idea. They unclipped the strap from them and did their best to open the small box with their mouth. They plucked one of the charms into their mouth and placed it on their chest; and, like a magnet, it was stuck to them. Using their wings as makeshift legs, they wobbled over and crawled under her chest, and with the help of their charm—unbreakable strength—they pushed upwards, trying to help the Godseeker sit back up again. It took multiple attempts and extra help from her as well to her to sit up again, and when she did she used the shade lord’s side as a prop. Almost immediately her coughing and wheezing became less strenuous and her breathing started to slow into a more stabilized rhythm. Grimmchild climbed onto her stomach, noting how very squishy and warm it was before giving a concerned look in her direction.

She gave the small one a smile, even though they couldn’t see it behind her mask. “Thank you small one. It is nice to know that there are other benevolent gods ready to help their worshipers.”Grimmchild didn’t understand what she meant by that but was happy to know that Godseeker wasn’t in trouble anymore. Her expression changed, however, into irritation as she stared off in the direction Lemm disappeared to. “Damn that peasant! How dare he be so blasphemous to leave his defenseless lord of shade behind! And to take his prophet as well! There will be a reckoning for him I assure you!”

Again, Grimmchild had no idea what she meant but assumed she was mad because the older bug didn’t help her back up again. Instead, Grimmchild took this time to lay flat on her stomach and roll their wings underneath themselves. After everything that happened from when they first woke up in that void cocoon, they were very exhausted.

The Godseeker stopped her rant and watched in amusement as the small one fell asleep on her. She sighed and rubbed the small one’s head with her claw. “Rest well, god of nightmares.”

******

“I am so done with this.” Lemm muttered to himself. Lemm tried as hard as he could to carry Quirrel, but unfortunately strength wasn’t his forte and he was forced to drag their feet as he desperately held onto them by their shoulder.

Lemm didn’t exactly have a plan, in fact his mind was still processing the thought that most of everything he held valuable and worked up to studying in his life was under rubble because a random “god” decided to rear its head; just when it looked like the infection was gone and the worst was over.

So now the only thing he has is the small journal in his pocket and his unconscious acquaintance on his shoulders. Normally he wouldn’t give a damn about anyone else other than himself and his relics, but there was clear connection between him and Quirrel that he never found in any other bug in a very long time. He could spot the scholar’s hunger for knowledge and adventure from a mile away, the perfect companion to have in the relic-seeking world.

So much has been taken away from Lemm in a such a short span of time, he’ll be damned if the world takes anything else away from him; no matter how small or insignificant it may seem.

Luckily for him, the bugs that littered the forgotten crossroads were either dead or skittered away at the sight of him. There was one that seemed to be laughing to itself inside a small hut, but Lemm didn’t trust it or the incense that seemed to surround it to ask them for help.

There was a hot spring nearby; he passed it on his very short and infrequent travels to and from Dirtmouth for the occasional supply and trade. He’ll take Quirrel there and figure out what to do next from—maybe get bandages and medical supplies from the town above?

He decided on that and headed west towards the crossroad hot springs.

******

Sheo and Hornet shared an awkward exchange, staring at each other silently—one not know what to say or how to interact while the other waited patiently for the other to speak.

After what seemed to be forever, Sheo finally spoke. “I take it you are not a socialite and prefer your solitude.”

“Yes,” Hornet blurted out. She mentally smacked herself and continued in a quieter volume, “I heard someone cry out and came to investigate.”

“Oh, that was my partner here,” he gestured to the smith who looked up in response. “The earthquake just gave us a small scare, that’s all.”

“I apologize if I made you worry.” The nailsmith piped up, setting the broken Ogrim figure onto the table.

“Don’t be.” Hornet replied. “It is common courtesy to help those who are in need of help.”

She nodded in understanding.

As she and the smith had a very quick conversation about the sudden earthquake, Sheo eyed her tense form and brittle grasp on her needle. Her voice also seemed very strained for some reason, stress perhaps? Clearly she is under some kind of mental weight; Sheo knows too well how that can be when he was a nailmaster. Becoming a very dependent ally in a crisis can be soul-wrenching if they don’t give themselves the care they desperately need—and she clearly wasn’t taking care of herself like she should.

A brief image of his nail-brothers arguing appeared in the back of his head. Oh how he missed them, he wonders if they are any better from their falling out.

He decided to take this opportunity to try to help this warrior. “You look very tired,” Hornet turned her head to look at the painter, “you should rest here. Whatever is on your mind, take a break and use this time to calm and relax yourself.”

“No, I can’t.” She replied mechanically. “There are still many things I need to do. The kingdom still needs me-“

Before Hornet could finish her sentence, there was a flash of blue and she found herself unarmed. She gave the old nailmaster an incredulous look as he placed her nail in his lap. The smith just looked at two with a blank expression on his face as he subconscious scooted a few inches backwards.

Hornet glared at him. “Give that back.”

He shook his head. “No, you need to rest.”

“I’ll rest later, give me back my needle.” Hornet lunged to grab her weapon from his lap, but he grabbed it just in time for her to miss. He stood up and held the needle behind his back. Hornet narrowed her eyes at him and took this as a challenge.

She charged after him. He dodged. She did it again, but he dashed out of the way just in time for her to almost hit the wall.

She lunged, he dodged.

She lunged, he dodged.

She lunged, and he dodged.

Hornet was getting sick of this and summoned a spool of silk to surround her. Sheo didn’t flinch as she did this and watched her closely, ready to dodge her next move, whatever it may be. When she was about to command her silk to wrap itself around her opponent she suddenly felt a jolt emanate from her body and immediately her silk disappeared into thin air. She collapsed to her knees and suddenly felt lethargic, her body feeling heavy and weak. Her vision fluctuated between being blurry and clear as she crumbled to the floor, her surroundings fading to black.

Chapter Text

It happened again. They felt the sand underneath their old, tiny legs and the faint breeze caress their venerable shell. Unlike their previous dream, their mind wasn’t adrift in a sea of consciousness, they were whole and united into one nostalgic focal point; much like the dream they had right after the defeat of the radiance.

But it wasn’t a dream, or a figment of their memories they had witnessed that time.

When they opened their eyes they were not greeted with a soothing blue visage of the lake or a creamy yellow of sand below them. The blue lake was black, infused with the void of the abyss, and the sand glistened with a dull grey, even the caverns and the rocks that made up the space looked as if they were drained of their color. They noted that the breeze they had felt appeared to have dropped in temperature as well.

To most this would be a change to represent ill omen or a sense of despair, but to a creature that is made up of void and born in the abyss the effect was opposite; never had Ghost felt so at home. The blue lake gave them a sense of peace before but now the feeling is no different to the comfort and sheltered darkness of the abyss, their home.

Be that as it may, Ghost felt a pit in their stomach. They felt a faint sensation of pain and discomfort, but it didn’t come from them, it originated somewhere else. That was when they noticed the figure lying on the sand behind them. It was pitch black, its pigment so dark that Ghost confused it for one of its many shade siblings down below, but when they got close to the mysterious figure they realized it was too big to be one; the overall shape was completely different.

Whoever it was, they were in a fetal position and their body shook uncontrollably. Ghost placed their hand on them and it caused the shade to jolt and whimper loudly in return. Two, bright eyes opened and its head turned to look at Ghost with fear-driven curiosity. Its eyes oozed with soul as it continued to shiver and spasm in pain.

“It…hurts…” It whispered as both arms went to clutch its chest, its voice sounding like muffled static.

Ghost didn’t know what to think, was this another sibling in a different shape? Their form is very different from what they have seen, and yet their presence seemed very familiar to them. Demanding for more answers, Ghost pulled the distressed shade onto their back to get a good look at what caused their pain. Their eyes met with a very long gash across the shade’s chest, oozing out both void and soul, almost blinding Ghost from its luminescence.

Ghost recognized this wound, and that’s when everything froze; something clicked in their mind. They felt their stomach churn when the pieces finally fitted into place.

It’s Quirrel. This is Quirrel!

Ghost took a step back in horror, their hands quaking in fear. How did this happen?! How were they a shade?! Globs of void flowed from their eyes. What should they do? What should they do?

They subconsciously wiped the black tears streaming down their shell and stared at their stained hands. They helped Quirrel before, can’t they do it again?

Ghost didn’t have to think too hard on it, they wiped more of their tears away and moved closer to their friend in need. They knelt down and slowly brought their hands close to Quirrel’s and focused. They could feel their friend’s trembling soften as they centered on the void that encased them and Quirrel. Like before, they commanded the void to do their bidding, to form under their guidance and heal what has been damaged.

Slowly, the wound began to close in on itself, stitching itself together as the light that emanated from it began to darken and disappear under the shade’s dark form. When the light vanished and the wound ceased to exist, Ghost opened their eyes to find Quirrel’s hands wrap around theirs. They looked up and their dark eyes met Quirrel’s luminescent ones. Soul continued to stream down his cheeks as he slowly sat up into a sitting position, looking over himself with mild trepidation.

When he sat up, his form started to hover over the sand, his black tendrils flowing underneath where Quirrel’s legs should have been. The shade looked disturbed and uncomfortable as he watched his own tendrils sway side to side in the cold breeze. He let out a garbled shriek as he collapsed onto his back in fright.

Ghost ran to his side and grabbed his hand, their nubby fingers holding his new talon-like integers. The shade gazed up at Ghost with pleading eyes, his eyes glowing extra brighter as more tears streamed down his dark face. “What…happened to…me?” His broken voice pierced Ghost’s psyche, its static-tone sending chills down Ghost’s carapace. “I am…scared.”

Ghost placed their head on their chest and used their other hand to rub it in hopes to soothe him. They didn’t know what to say, they didn’t have an exact answer for this, but they figured just being here and helping their friend calm down would be enough.

They hugged their friend. Imsorry Imsorry Imhere Dontcry Don’tcryQuirrel

Quirrel did their best to return the hug. They closed their eyes and focused on Ghost’s presence, doing their best to relax and put their mind at ease. From the collective mess that once housed his old memories, he recalled to a time when he would be so stressed his mind wouldn’t be able to think. He remembered Monomon coming to his aid, her tendrils rubbing his shoulders as she gently soothed him with words of praise and hopeful ideals; teaching him that his anger and grief is normal and taking a step back to reevaluate and rest the mind is a necessity. Her presence always made him feel content and hopeful; he wished he could remember all the moments they had spent together. Yet the pieces remained scattered and the memory he held dear now fades away to join them in the dark recesses of his subconscious.

He wiped his tears with the back of his hand as he stared up at the dark cavern above him. His body still shook with unquarantined spasms of fear and adrenaline, but his mind felt clearer, and is already trying to process the events that happened prior.

He found out the large shadow creature was indeed their old, silent friend. When they were stabbed by a large bug, he rushed to attack them only to receive a grievous wound of his own. They subconsciously placed their hand over their chest where Ghost laid their hand, which explained the pain he felt before. But everything after that is blank; he theorized that he may have slipped into unconsciousness from the pain. Still, it doesn’t explain why he is the way he is.

Ghost is assuredly the one responsible, though from the looks of it Ghost may be oblivious to their power just as much as Quirrel was.

Quirrel took a deep breath and sighed. He wished he had all the answers, but he knew at this point knowing might not make a difference. Although, having that knowledge might put an ease to the stress building up from not knowing anything at all.

He sat up and put Ghost on his lap. They looked up at him. Feelbetter feelbetter? Quirrel nodded. Ghost hugged them tighter. Happy Happy Quirrelbetter

Quirrel smiled and wrapped his arms around them. He knows that whatever Ghost did to him wasn’t in any form malicious, or something meant to hurt him; they know that now, especially after everything they went through. Whatever happened to him, he knew they would figure it out somehow, together.

******

Sheo and the Nailsmith could only stare in shock as Hornet crumbled to the floor, her body becoming limp as the silk she once commanded faded and disappeared into thin air.

“Oh!” The nailsmith rushed over to the unconscious bug as Sheo knelt down and placed his hand around her wrist, pressing it and studying her fragile and stiff appendages. When the smith was only a step away from the scene, Sheo looked at him and gave him a relieved look. “It’s alright, she just fainted from exhaustion.” The smith sighed in relief and went to kneel next to him when Sheo stopped him. “But she’s weak; she needs to rest in order to fully recover. Can you please grab the spare cot out of the closet?”

The nailsmith nodded. “Of course, I’ll just be a minute.”

“Thank you.”

The nailsmith disappeared in a nearby closet as Sheo placed Hornet’s weapon on the table, he grabbed the back of her head and her lower back and held her up in a bridal style with her head lying against his chest. Careful not to get any of the paint blemishes on her, he carried her over to the corner where the nailsmith grabbed and set up the small, make-shift bed for her. He gently placed the weakened bug on the bed, placing her head on the straw pillow and the smith flapping an old, worn blanket over her for good measure.

“There, that should do.” The nailsmith voiced, feeling a little proud from the small deed.

“Yes, this should help her, for the most part.” The paintmaster reassured.

The Nailsmith looked over at him. “But now what?”

Sheo placed a hand on his companion’s shoulder and gave him a tired look. “Nothing now, all we can do is wait.”

Both looked at the tired princess with quiet confidence. Not long after they went their separate ways to finish cleaning up the mess the previous quake had wrought upon their home. They didn’t know how long it will take for the daughter of Hallownest to wake up, but they know that whenever she’s ready to wake up they will be here to take care of her.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t long before the older bug finally entered the archway of the hot springs. The sound of rushing water and the sudden mist branding his face was very relieving for the tired bug. It felt like forever getting here from the travesty that once was the blue lake.

When entering the room however he wasn’t alone, there were two others in the springs as well, neither of which he recognized. One was a very small pill bug, very round, and it was talking with the other occupant, a small, black snail with a blue shell attached to its head. The little one noticed the newcomers and stopped talking; the snail followed her gaze and was taken aback by the sight: two bugs covered in a dark substance, one clearly unconscious and the other appearing to be running on fumes.

The snail immediately got out of the hot spring and offered to help in any way he could. Lemm hesitated as he watched the snail grab Quirrel’s free arm, noting the peculiar shell necklace he wore and the staff that lied over by the small bug, but his sudden light-headedness forced the bug to concede and allow the stranger to alleviate his burden.

Quirrel being much bigger than the snail, he was forced to carry the unconscious bug on his back. Seeing this, the smaller bug crawled out of the hot spring—with albeit a little more difficulty than the other had—and rushed over to the snail and the unconscious bug, putting herself underneath, by her friend’s side, to help relieve the weight for the snail.

Lemm watched the two bugs slowly make their way to the water as he crumbled to the floor, fatigue overcoming him as he rubbed his shoulder to help dull the pain that came from holding a bug up for a couple of hours. He took a deep breath and sighed, he watched the two finally get Quirrel into the water with weary eyes. “I’m getting too old for this.” He muttered to himself, opting to lie on the ground where he sat and allow his exhaustion to overtake him completely.

As the old bug fell unconscious, the two bugs chatted to each other quietly as they examined the larger pill bug’s body, noting the large gash across the chest and the dried, black liquid that stained his and his companion’s shell. The jacket that was placed on him was quickly discarded to soak in the springs in hopes to wash out the stains.

Myla was terrified, never had she seen a wound so gruesome! The snail shaman was not as perturbed by the wound but was more astounded but what seemed to have oozed out of it. It was no doubt to be void, he had some knowledge on the mysterious nature that made its home deep in the darkest pits of Hallownest; but to see it like this was a whole other level.

The shaman couldn’t help but wonder what in the world happened to them.

Luckily, the spring seemed to be doing its work. It was very slow, but the shaman could make out the wound slowly stitching itself back together. The void that stained his shell also started to wash away but not without tinting the spring a light grey in the process.

“Well, this is pretty bad.” The snail shaman said, watching in bemusement as the void dissipated in the water. “But, he’ll live.”

“He’s going to be okay?” Myla whispered.

“Yes, but just to make sure I’m going to stay here and make sure his recovery goes smoothly.” He replied, getting up and walking over to retrieve his staff. When he came back, he hopped back into the spring to sit next to the unconscious bug. He motioned over to the other unconscious bug, “Why don’t you check up on the old coot to make sure he doesn’t have any wounds of his own for us to take care of?”

Myla was a little scared of the thought that the other bug might have a really bad wound like this one, but she’d never forgive herself if she didn’t try to help a bug in need. Timidly, she got out of the springs and walked over to the sleeping bug. Her eyes were glued to the black that stained the bug’s right side of the body. Nevertheless upon closer inspection she didn’t see any lacerations or gashes, or at least not as grievous as the other one; just bruises that were disguised under the dried void.

She rushed back over to the shaman whose attention was still directed at the healing gash. “He’s okay, but he should get in the water just in case.” She reported with a little more confidence, happy and relieved that the other bug was more or less out of harm’s way.

“Oho good, good. I agree he looks like he needs a good scrubbing!” The snail shaman chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. He took one last look at the pill bug before stepping out of the water once more. “Let’s drag the old coot to the water, maybe our unconscious friend here would prefer to be close to his companion, hmm?”

Myla jumped at the idea, her cheeks restoring to their natural pigment. “Yeah! So they won’t be lonely when they wake up! And they get to get better together!”

The shaman smiled as his new friend rushed back over to the tired bug with newfound confidence. He was glad the young one felt better under this sudden, gruesome state of affairs. Given time, the older bug would make a good recovery. Although, the shaman glanced back at unconscious bug behind him, the scholar appeared to be healing alright, physically that is. The bug’s mind, however, was nonexistent and its body empty of any soul. There were very few instances that he came across where the body was able and the mind uncoherent, but the result was never good. He didn’t dare tell his companion this gruesome detail, or ever plan on doing so in the future. Not only because he thought the little one wouldn’t have the heart to take in the unsettling fate of the bug but also because there was no way of knowing how this will end. Things like this were always near impossible to predict; the void always was, and always has been unpredictable.

He looked away from the unnatural bug and walked over to where Myla sat, placing one of the older bug’s arms over her small shoulder.

The void was a rather mysterious mistress indeed.

******

The sound of something large shifting on the sand woke the little one up. Its red eyes glowed into a tired slant, raising its head to look around as it let out a big yawn, not wanting to get up just yet. The belly they were laying on was very warm, squishy and inviting to the tired child, they didn’t want to leave just yet. The godseeker, however, was unrespondent to the noise or the slight movement she felt when lying on the shifting mass behind her. She was out cold.

The child was about to lay their head on her belly to sleep once more when, in the corner of their eye, they noticed bright, glowing eyes blinking open. The large void creature slowly opened their eyes, trying to wake up from a very interesting “dream” they had. The grimmchild was half-expecting the eldritch creature to get up and move, but all it did was lay there; the only movement coming from their tail lazily shifting side to side in the sand. The little child had their full attention now, their curiosity winning over their urge for sleep.

Careful not to wake the godseeker, they unfurled themselves and flew up into the air. They hovered over the shade lord’s chest before moving closer to where their head lied. The shade lord immediately noticed the flying child and their eyes flashed in recognition. The grimmchild grew nervous from how the giant’s eyes suddenly focused on the little one, wondering if it was a mistake to fly over to them in the first place; after all, curiosity killed the gnat.

Ghost’s chest immediately felt heavy; they remember seeing the little one at the hot spring and wanted so much to rejoin them once their mission with Quirrel was done, but then…they didn’t want to think about what they did. Their head hurt just from trying to recall the blurry memories. They don’t even remember who they attacked anymore.

After that, it was just one disaster after another, their attention diverted to just trying to survive and get everyone to safety. They never had the chance to hug their child, or give them their sincerest apologies for forgetting about them; wherever they ended up after the destruction of godhome and the radiance.

Grimmchild shrinked away when the much larger bug raised its head a little, watching the little one with an uncomfortable intensity as they flew back towards the sleeping godseeker; they still didn’t trust the giant, they weren’t in their company long when they almost single-handedly destroyed the city and the blue lake above.

Ghost’s eyes softened when they realized the child was getting scared of their presence, as it may it would be hard to communicate to them the way Ghost was now—even though they were never up for conversation from the very beginning.

Ghost narrowed their eyes in thought. Maybe they didn’t need to speak, like how they retrieved Quirrel’s nail from the blue lake? They looked up at the lake, and their shoulder’s hitched. The lake lost its blue beauty and was, instead, stained black as the abyss itself. That’s right; they remembered what they did in order to stop the cavern from collapsing and the city of tears from getting destroyed by the oncoming flood.

They closed their eyes and sighed, suddenly feeling very drained. They still couldn’t believe they pulled that off.

Mrrow. Ghost looked up to see the grimmchild coming closer again. Their expression was intense, with their eyes narrowing at him with false bravado as if trying to put on a brave façade—it was actually very cute, it made the giant snicker a little.

They growled in response, flapping their wings hard and puffing out their chest in mock anger. Ghost couldn’t help but chuckle, extending their hand to the little one. Unfortunately they didn’t react well to it, they spat a fireball at their hand and Mroow’ed angrily again. The fireball did little to no damage to them, let alone felt it when it made contact with one of their claws. They smiled at the child, when was the last time their child mistook them for an enemy and set them on fire?

The child frowned, losing their gusto as they realized their only attack did nothing to the imposing giant. With their feeling of curiosity waning, they started to feel their exhaustion creeping up on them again; in fact, the shade lord’s hand started to look very welcoming.

They hesitated, staring at the hand in trepidation before giving in to their urge to nap and touching down on the palm of the giant’s hand. Ghost could feel a tingling sensation erupt from their chest as they watched the little one curl up for a nap. They rubbed the little one’s head with very gentle strokes from one of its fingers, careful not to put too much pressure on them as they quickly fell back asleep.

Feeling tired themselves, they lied their head back down and slowly placed their hand on top of their chest. It wasn’t long before Ghost dozed off as well.

******

The earth quaked.

Like a wave, the seismic activity expanded all across Hallownest.

Moments later, the void in the abyss became restless; the tendrils lashing out in the air haphazardly, enraged, tired, scared. The emotions came and went as they channeled all throughout the void, responding to its master—its hive mind—by natural instinct.

The master gave command and the void began to form partially, close to the dwelling of the city of tears, and everything nearby.

The small, vein-like proportions of void that surrounded one of the fallen palace guards began to bubble and grow searing hot. The armor began to melt to the floor, exposing a large blob of void as it slowly took shape into…something.

As quick as it happened, the void began to cool down and the blob collapsed to the ground unceremoniously. The blob shifted on the ground as it hardened into a shell. The sound of it cracking pierced the silence as a white hand broke out and fell to the ground, exposing a faint light, shimmering from within.

Chapter Text

Suddenly, an aura of light descended upon the entirety of Hallownest, bringing in an unfathomable, yet reassuring sense of consciousness. It was as if the remaining survivors’ minds lied dormant until a bright light unsuspectingly brought it to awaken and flourish on command from an unknown, higher being.

It rolled over them like a wave; some surprised and confused, not knowing what to do with themselves or how to feel about out it. On the other hand, there were those that knew what this meant—who was behind the compelling aura of the pale light and why:

The Pale King had returned.

******

The wave of light washed over the occupants in the tram and immediately they raised their heads and pinned their eyes to the exit of the car. Ogrim’s fur stood on end as the hollow knight unknowingly clenched their hand into a fist.

“That light…” Ogrim whispered. “I-it can’t be…”

Tears threatened to spill out of the hollow knight’s eyes. “F-father…”

Ogrim broke his fixation on the source of the invisible light and gazed at the grown child quietly weeping in front of him. In the time they were together, Ogrim never saw the king act like a parental figure to anyone, let alone his own offspring. He only saw the Pale King as a dedicated, but often stubborn monarch that did everything and anything in his power to help his people, no matter how immoral the cost was. But now, watching as the hollow knight called him father and is emotionally moved for something that wasn’t supposed to feel in the first place leaves place for Ogrim to speculate that the king was more than just a king.

Although, the last time Ogrim saw the king…it wasn’t a happy memory. Though he was known for his loyalty, Ogrim finally confessed to his king that he didn’t agree with the plan to use a child to seal away a higher being. For the first time in his life, he felt fear; absolute, hair-raising terror. The king raised his voice at him—a new experience for the defender—and lectured the round knight with the most deadliest of glares, how he expected so much from Ogrim and how blasphemous it was that his most loyal knight was not living up to his name by questioning the king’s last and only resort to stopping the radiance and her infection. It ended with the king revoking Ogrim’s status as a knight and banishing him from the realm of Hallownest.

Ogrim never forgave himself for what he had done. To be forced to leave the palace premises, having to walk by his friends and former comrades in shame as he left everyone and everything behind...just because he didn’t feel his heart wasn’t in the right place. His exile destroyed him and left him scared and remorseful, unsure what to do and where to go; until he found his home in the waterways.

A new home, a new resolve.

Despite his exile, he swore he would always always help and protect the citizens of Hallownest, even if it meant getting caught and executed for his disobedience. His life has been trained to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves, he’ll be damned if he fled his home just because he didn’t think the king’s idea wasn’t a good one—it was all he knew, there was no point in finding something else to strive for in life when being the royal knight gave his life meaning and his heart satisfaction.

He was brought out of his thoughts when a large figure casted a shadow over him. He looked up in astonishment to find the hollow knight on their feet, though judging from its heavy breathing and frail posture Ogrim knew they were forcing themselves despite their body’s protest.

Their body fell forward and narrowly missed hitting their head against the side of the exit way, propping themselves against it as they tried to straighten themselves up.

“No stop!” Ogrim cried out. He lunged forward and grabbed the hollow knight’s side with their uninjured arm. “You’re still recovering-“

“I…must go.” The hollow knight interjected. “He…needs me.”

Despite the pleas of the defender, they jumped off the tram and descended through a nearby cavity. They landed on the ground, hard. Pain shot up through their legs and it cried out, feeling the muscles tighten and constrict almost to breaking point. They fell to their knees and paused to catch their breath, their body shaking and their legs feeling very weak. The feeling made the hollow knight’s head pound and convulse.

They heard the sound of their companion drop next to them with little to no issue before he was by their side. “Let me at least help you.” He reasoned as he stroked the knight’s back in hopes to comfort and ease whatever pain they were ailed with.

The hollow knight looked at him with pleading eyes, tears of void threatening to spill out as they slowly nodded. Ogrim nodded back and gave them a determined look. He went to his companion’s left side and placed their arm over his shoulder, allowing the much bigger knight to use him as a crutch.

Slowly, they stood back onto their feet simultaneously and slowly made their way downwards, carefully jumping down onto the broken ruins of the ancient basin; the ghostly pale light their beacon and source of fading hope.

The travel was slow and harsh as it took much needed time for the hollow knight to recover from every crevice they descended from. Luckily there weren’t any hostile bugs in the area, but it didn’t mean there wasn’t any shortage of hardships from either companion. The pain in the hollow knight’s legs was constant and unbearable—the only thing making it remotely tolerable was the light that encompassed their conscious—and every moment or so they had to stop and take a break. Ogrim, on the other hand, was running on fumes. The many injuries he sustained from the attack and the flood bore into him and left him feeling sore and drained. Every so often he had to rest as well, resorting to sitting on any nearby rubble or lying flat on the floor.

When they finally deemed they were almost there, they found themselves staring up at a decent sized cliff above them, the light bearing down on them light a grandeur spotlight enlightening a stage.

Ogrim released his hold on the knight and studied the cliff’s face, noting how it inverted itself at the top. It would be impossible to climb it the way they were now. “Hmm, perhaps we should find something to use as a lift or ladder? Hmph, what do you think-“

Before Ogrim could finish his sentence, he turned around in time to watch the bigger knight launch itself into the air, just shy of the roof of the entrance before landing haphazardly onto its legs. Ogrim watched this in astonishment, in the time he was away he completely forgot how amazing the hollow knight’s skills were in navigating and clearing any obstacle; whether it was through graceful flexibility or with brute force. Ogrim could feel his chest lighten at the memory.

The hollow knight looked over the cliff’s edge and held out their hand to the waiting dung defender, but the latter shook his head. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll get up there soon enough. Just promise me you won’t don’t anything brash.”

The hollow knight gave them a long look before they finally nodded and limped their way through the entrance to the palace grounds.

Upon entering the room they looked over towards the center, expecting the lavish and exquisite palace to enter their field of vision—to finally see their home after so long—but there was nothing. It was as if a large amount of weight was suddenly dropped onto them; their chest felt heavy and their head felt light as they took in the sight of what used to be a beautiful masterpiece, but all that remained was rubble and inky black veins encircling it.

They dropped to their knees. It felt like they were just punched in the gut.

What happened to their home? Their father’s palace? Was this the reason their sister believed their father abandoned them?

They shook their head. No he wouldn’t do that. He was better than that; he wouldn’t abandon a kingdom that he bent-backwards to protect. There was a reason, there always is!

They knew him better than anyone!

It didn’t matter anymore, anyhow. They looked up and stared out directly in front of them, towards the light that shone in front of, what used to be, the palace entrance. The brilliance was almost blinding, but the more the hollow knight stared their eyes started to become accustomed to it. Over time they started to make out what looked to be a black egg, about half their size, and something leaning against it, though they couldn’t make out what.

But the more they stared, the lighter their shoulders felt; as if the presence in front of them lifted the weight of dread off of them.

The hollow knight slowly rose back onto their feet and carefully shuffled towards the beacon, their vision clearing and the becoming bearable to withstand. But as they grew closer, they realized the source of the light didn't come from the figure slouching against the egg but from the inside of the egg itself. Then they saw the Hallownest crown come into clear view, the hollow knight’s own precious beacon, along with the rest of the Pale King’s body.

Their breathing hitched when they realized that their father was directly in front of them, almost too perfect to be true, as they knelt down before him, ignoring the false light emanating from the egg. Tears threatened to spill from their eyes as they held one of his four, little hands in their much bigger one. Upon closer inspection, they noticed that his robe was in tatters and his pale shell has darkened into a duller gray, but they didn’t care. All they cared about was that he was here and alive.

The sound of movement caught the hollow knight’s attention and they glanced behind them to find Ogrim jogging towards them, his movement labor intensive but stable. When he finally caught up to them he was astonished to find the king…well in tatters; enough to make Ogrim feel disturbed and unwary. Though the Pale King had multitudes of guards and his personal top-tier knights to guard and protect him, he was still a higher-being capable of taking care of himself when threatened. And to see him like this—torn, unconscious, and a little battered—was unsettling.

“I-is the Pale King alright?” Ogrim asked, a little out of breath as he knelt in front of the two.

The hollow knight nodded, their gaze locked with their father’s chest as it slowly rose and fell in a steady rhythm.

Ogrim let out a breath he didn’t realize he held in. “Oh thank goodness…”

Just as they settled by the egg, the king began to stir from his slumber. The hollow knight stumbled closer and grabbed their father to hold him close to their chest, propping his head with their only arm for comfort. Ogrim stayed where he was, watching with bated breath as the king opened his eyes.

Two pairs of eyes stared back.

Ogrim and the hollow knight froze.

The Pale King stared up at the vessel holding him and cocked his head to the side in faint curiosity. With a voice weak from misuse he whispered:

“Who…are you?”

Chapter Text

The sudden appearance of the pale light in the back of their mind made the void churn. It hummed to life and the eldritch creature lurched forward in disgust, suddenly overcome with a feeling of acrimony and rage. Their eyes glowed venomously as their maw began to dislodge from their head to let out a static-charged hiss. The void bubbled underneath their form and, with the exception of the claw holding the grimmchild, their claws dug into the dull-looking sand and rakes its appendages across it.

The grimmchild was awakened by the sudden movement and gazed up at the seething giant in terror.  Their scarlet eyes were locked with the shade lord’s maw, fear causing the little one to shiver and to curl into themselves to the point it felt more uncomfortable than it should have.

Upon seeing the child’s reaction, Ghost quickly closed their mouth, though the sudden anger they felt from the irritating light radiating from their conscious didn’t go away.

Ghost, however, was not the only one awakened by the sudden appearance of the light. The godseeker nearly toppled from its sudden appearance, her form shuddering in some of form of euphoria as she raised her head and began to hum. Her humming caught the attention of the larger and smaller vessels, prompting the smaller one to hurriedly fly down by her and away from the scary giant. Seeing the little one go made the shade lord’s chest feel heavy.

“This beautiful luminescence…Hark! Such allure! Magnificent!” The Godseeker cooed as she slowly shifted herself onto her feet. She grabbed the charm case the grimmchild left and held it close to her as she continued to hum. “It is the beacon, the beacon that once called Us here!” She lowered her head. “Ah, but it is I now, even so still we must go!” She looked up at the grimmchild and at her master. “The light is calling us, we must travel to the source!”

Grimmchild just hovered in the air, cocking its head to the side as they tried to understand what any of what she said meant. Ghost, however, continued to fume over the presence of the light in the back of their head. They didn’t like it, they hated it, they wanted it out of their head. The more they focused on it, the more it enraged them, the more it hurt them.

They want to get rid of it.

They wanted to smother it.

They wanted to consume it.

They wanted to DESTROY this bright, pale light!

They closed their eyes shut and clenched their claws to its head and roared. The godseeker stopped humming and crouched close to the eldritch creature as the cavern began to quake. Grimmchild cried as they narrowly dodged a rock from the cavern’s ceiling. The godseeker reached out for the child and grabbed them as more rocks fell, taking shelter close to the disheartened giant.

Ghost continued to scream, digging their claws into its head as soul seeped from their eyes. The void continued to bubble and hiss, tendrils surfacing to lash out at the light, any light. The godseeker ducked out of the way as one of them started swiping at her and ran away towards one of the rock walls that overhung in hopes to protect them from the falling debris.

She clung to the scared child and held them close to her chest as she raised her head in the direction of the distraught beast. “My shade lord!” She called. “What’s wrong?!” She didn’t get answer, instead the giant continued to roar in anguish. “Please! Let us help you! I can’t help you the way you are right now!”

The godseeker kept trying to call out to them with no avail, her voice was drowned out by their cries. While their roars weren’t as damaging or as long distant as any other form of destruction they caused in the past, it was still unsettling and hazardous to anyone close by.

Just when it felt like the light would continue to illuminate and scorch the dark recesses of their head, it suddenly went away. The light faded and the pain was gone. They stopped their cries and allowed the tendrils to stop and recede back into their form. As this happened, the void in the giant’s chest began to bubble and swirl into some sort of portal, a small figure precariously hovered out; and, curiously, just as quickly as it came the void suddenly stopped and grew still. The godseeker was dumbstruck from the sudden appearance but kept quiet as she watched it fly over towards the shade lord’s head. The familiar shade placed its hands on their face and pressed its temple against theirs.

The shade lord opened their eyes to see Quirrel’s shade doing his best to comfort the giant. He leaned back but didn’t let go of his grip on the shade lord’s face. “Hey, hey, calm down. It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.”

The shade lord stared at Quirrel with teary eyes, feeling their face get unnaturally warmer by the second, not knowing whether to be embarrassed or overjoyed by their sudden appearance. Quirrel? HereHow? Dream?

Quirrel’s shade shook their head. “I’m just as confused as you are. One minute you were in my dream and the next minute I’m here…like this.” He let go to gesture to himself before moving closer once more to wipe away some of the excess soul from Ghost’s eyes.

When the shaking of the Earth ceased and the shade lord stopped their cries did the godseeker finally step out from under her shelter with the nervous child in her arms. She watched the two shades coerce in relief as the identity of the newcomer suddenly came to her. “The prophet…” She muttered to herself before hurriedly walking over the giant wyrm’s side. “The prophet is still alive! Most excellent news! I thought he to be doomed and spirited away by the blasphemous geezer, never to be seen again!”

Quirrel let go and turned to look at her. “What?” Quirrel looked back to Ghost. “Do you have any idea what she’s going on about?”

Ghost shook their head.

“The relic seeker!” She exclaimed angrily. “He dragged you away before I could do anything to stop him! The treachery! To abandon you, O great shade lord, in your time of weakness.” Grimmchild wriggled in her arms, annoyed from her outbursts and caused her to drop both the child and the charm case. Grimmchild was able to catch the case’s strap in their mouth before flying off, leaving a good distance between the scary monster and the angry, fat lady.

Intrigued yet still utterly confused by what she meant, Quirrel’s shade flew down until he was only a few feet away from her. “What do you mean by “dragging me away”?”

“Your body,” She huffed, feeling her sudden temper simmer. “That Relic-Seeker took it.”

Quirrel’s shade and Ghost were taken aback by the answer, the former flinching in response. “W-where did he take it?!”

The Godseeker shook her head. “I don’t know, he didn’t specify. But he went away through there.” She pointed to the hole in the wall that led to the forgotten crossroads.

Ghost stared at the small hole in disappointment. They still didn’t know how to control their size, and they knew making the hole bigger wasn’t an option, going the long way around wouldn’t be wise either regarding their size and the frequent small and narrow paths that lead out of here. Ghost had to admit that they were stuck and can’t do anything to help right now.

Quirrel’s shade, on the other hand, was deep in thought. “He might’ve made his way to the nearby hot spring in the crossroads.” He said precariously. “That’s what I would do if someone was severely wounded and needed quick medical attention.”

Ghost agreed at the idea but was reluctant nonetheless. Maybemaybe butcantgo toobig muststay canthelp

Quirrel’s shade turned to the disheartened shade lord. “Don’t worry my friend, if my suspicion is right I shouldn’t be gone long.”

“Even so, allow me to assist.” The Godseeker responded. “My powers may be weak now that it is only I that occupies the sacred godhome but I can try to use you to attune to your mortal body to find its precise location.” Quirrel and Ghost gave her a worried look, in which she quickly added, “It’ll give me a chance to make up for my failure in stopping the Relic-Seeker from taking your body away in the first place.”

Quirrel’s shade and Ghost shared a look before Quirrel finally conceded. “Alright, just…stay close, yes?”

The godseeker bowed. “Of course, my prophet.”

Quirrel’s shade had to fight the urge to not shake his head in annoyance at the ludicrous title as the two slowly made their way over to the small entrance to crossroads shortcut, leaving the sad shade lord and the anxious grimmchild alone in the caverns of the black lake.

******

She was enveloped in darkness, a void that seemed all too familiar to her as a faint humming sound drowned out the silence. The sound was more akin to a vibration, like the sound of the unique but rare generators that littered the city of tears. But what drew her to the sound wasn’t its obscurity but its dreaded familiarity, a sensation that instantly filled her body with malice and disgust. The humming grew worse, its thrumming more powerful and intoxicating until it felt like it was buzzing from inside of her head.

Then she was blinded by a pale light and everything fell into silence.

She woke up with a start, her body drenched in cold sweat as she looked about the room hysterically. The nailsmith and the paintmaster were fast asleep on the other side of the room, her needle resting against the wall in between where the two were laying together, but other than that everything was still and ordinary from when she first came in.

Even so, her heart was racing and her mind swam. Despite how much she tried to suppress it the pale light continued to shine in the back of her consciousness. Her body couldn’t stop shaking and her legs refused to still as she tried stand from her makeshift cot; but the minute she stood her knees buckled and she collapsed to the floor, her vision starting to blur as black spots touched the edge of her sight.

Try as she might, her body refused to stand and the darkness continued to spread through her line of sight. No matter how much she hated it, she had no chance but to give in to the welcoming darkness. She allowed herself to crawl back onto the cot and rest her head against the pillow, cursing the wyrm under her breath as she fell unconscious once more.

Chapter Text

The light emanating from the egg dimmed and then faded away as the two knights stared at the king in disbelief. Many thoughts went through Ogrim’s mind:

Was this truly the king?

If so, why does he have two pairs of eyes?

If not, why does this creature look so much like their pale king?

Although the creature being held in the hollow knight’s arm looked slightly off from the pale king’s original appearance, the king’s brand still shines on one of his arms, clearly this had to be the king if he bears his crest.

As Ogrim pondered this to himself, the hollow knight couldn’t stop staring at the wyrm. They were at a loss for words, though normally this would be the usual behavior in the presence of their king, but it was for a sense of duty and loyalty, though now it was only due to a flurry of confusing and scary emotions erupting from their sense of self.

Tears of void dripped from their eyes as heartbreak finally won and subdued the knight to its whims. Specks of void landed on who once was the pale king, prompting him to reach up and grab the knight’s chin. The hollow knight subconsciously leaned into the touch, reveling in the familiar touch and sense of care his father always gave when they were alone. The wyrm was inquisitive as he watched the imposing, yet frail knight act so trusting and affectionate to them when they had only just met.

Finally, when the knight seemed like they had enough, the wyrm let go of their chin so they could wipe away the black goop from their eyes. He looked at the stain it left on his hands curiously before gazing back up at the hollow knight. “Why are you crying?”

Ogrim was brought out of his thoughts when the wyrm spoke, his voice unmistakable and regal-sounding as the day he was banished. There was no doubt about it; he was indeed the pale king. Yet, there was no malice or disgust in his voice; instead it held an impression of innocence and ignorance. It was hard for Ogrim to admit but the pale king sounded much more…passive and friendly than the sire he knew in his time of service.

The hollow knight tried to wipe away their remaining tears but with their father in their only hand they weren’t able to, and they refused to let him go. Instead, they allowed their amnesiac father to continue to wipe away the remaining tears, though as much as they tried to contain themselves, the tears kept flowing.

“I’m…I’m…sorry…” The hollow knight said softly. The pale king gave them a concerned look as he did his best to clean the knight’s face with his hands. “F-father…I’m sorry…” The hollow knight crumbled and they hugged the pale king. They continued to mutter ‘I’m sorry’ under their breath as they leaned their head on his tiny shoulders. The pale king was bewildered from the sudden action, but he didn’t pull away and allowed the bigger knight to embrace him.

Ogrim watched them in silence, the gears still turning in his head. What were they going to do now? He turned to the rubble that once was the entryway to the palace. The palace was gone, there’s no place for them to stay. The king is in no condition to reclaim the throne, so to speak, and him and the hollow knight are in desperate need of medical attention; and they couldn’t go back to the hot spring in the city of tears—or whatever was left of it. Ogrim isn’t even sure if they could defend themselves if the need arises.

Ogrim looked back to the two still embracing each other. He shook his head and sighed.

What were they going to do?

******

“Why do you call me ‘a prophet’?” Quirrel’s shade finally broke the silence as the godseeker stopped focusing her attunement on him. The claw that was placed on his chest moved away and the godseeker’s eyes opened to look at him.

“Because that’s what you are,” she simply replied, “I sense your body this way. Let us not stray too far from the path, we must return to the lord of shade soon.”

She led the way through the corridor, Quirrel’s shade floating closely behind.

“Th-that doesn’t answer my question.” He stated briskly. “Why do you think I’m…” He paused to laugh nervously, trying to find the right words to say without upsetting the large bug. “What makes me a prophet?”

She stopped and turned to look at him. “Because you have been blessed by the god of gods, they have chosen you to be the bridge between Them and Us mortals.” Quirrel gave her a confused look. The godseeker smiled, for she fully understood what it was like to be baffled when something so powerful, so alluring, to bestow upon her a power of attunement; to be a part of something…otherworldly. She missed the euphoria of what it was like for the first time. “You can communicate with them when others can’t, you can relay to mortals what the shade lord wants to say, to command, to praise. You are the living connection between the shade lord and their faithful; which makes you a prophet.”

Quirrel blinked, completely stunned by the answer. He definitely wasn’t expecting such an…explanation. Then again, this was the godseeker talking…

Satisfied with his reaction to his question, the godseeker turned back around and continued onward down the path towards the hot spring. Quirrel floated close behind, remaining silent to process the incredulous and awkward information he received.

******

When Lemm awoke he found himself partly submerged in the hot spring with Quirrel by his side. He was still unconscious, unfortunately, but at least the wound looked much better than before. Lemm was a little relieved, but it wasn’t enough to alleviate the weight on his shoulders.

His shop was gone.

The life he built in that shop was gone.

And nothing was going to bring it back, not the pale king, not the five great knights, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be the big, black-horned blob that easily decimated a city.

He sighed and leaned his head against the edge of the spring. There was a gentle thrumming in the back of his head, as if a pale spotlight was turned on and showcasing his thoughts and feelings. But he paid no mind to it and ignored it, he has had enough to deal with.

“Oho, looks like sleeping beauty is waking up!”

Lemm turned his head to see the snail shaman sitting by Quirrel, doing wyrm-knows-what. He glared at him. “Can it voodoo witch doctor.”

The snail shaman smiled at the cute nickname. “Oho, aren’t you a flatterer! How do you feel? You feel better yet?”

Lemm huffed. “I feel less shitty than before if that’s what you mean.”

Before the snail shaman could reply with a witty remark, Myla appeared from behind and ran to the angry old man, carrying a small bundle of food. “I-I’m glad you’re feeling much better! I got this from town; there should be enough for you and your f-friend when he wakes up too!”

Myla placed the small bundle behind his head and a few inches away from the water. Lemm’s glare softened when the smaller pill bug gave him a shaky smile before disappearing behind the snail shaman. The shaman thanked her as she sat down next to him.

Lemm turned to the food on the ground and carefully unwrapped it to find a small loaf of bread and small jar of honey. Myla watched him with glee as Lemm took a few bites of the bread, feeling proud of herself once again that she helped someone; no matter how simple it was.

The sound of someone humming broke the comforting silence as a large bug slowly made their way through the entrance to the hot spring. Following close by was what appeared an ethereal spirit of void—a shade, the curious shaman believes—with a very close resemblance to the injured companion the relic-seeker brought here.

Lemm nearly choked on his food when his eyes made contact with the godseeker’s, her gaze filled with malice and disgust as she guided the shade closer to the group by the edge of the hot spring.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding.” The godseeker spat as the shade floated beside her.

Lemm didn’t know whether to glare at the godseeker or gawk at the weird ghost floating beside her. For some reason it looked like Quirrel—too much so, they believed—yet their friend was still beside them, albeit unconscious.

What the hell did that black thing do while he was away?

“What are you doing here?” Lemm growled, wrapping the rest of the food into a small bundle before pointing an accusing finger at the shade. “And what the hell is that thing and why does it look like Quirrel?!”

“This is the pr-“ Quirrel’s shade held his hand in front of the godseeker so he could explain it in his own words.

“I am Quirrel.”Quirrel said as he approached his body. “I got separated from my body…somehow.” Taking a closer look at his body made the shade suddenly very uncomfortable. He never thought in his entire life that not only would he be separated from his body but also staring at his body as well. It was definitely a mind-boggling situation.

Lemm was about to retort about how ridiculous that was when he stopped himself, remembering all the weird and crazy stuff that has happened in the small span of time they were together with that ‘shade lord’, something like this happening may not be too far-fetched.

Lemm was getting tired of this.

He was done.

Enough was enough.

He shook his head and opted to stay silent instead. He looked away from the shade and settled on the duo keeping quiet. The shaman had a blank expression on his face while Myla’s was mixed; a combination of fear and excitement.

Quirrel hovered over to Lemm. “Lemm,” Lemm refused to move his head. “Lemm listen to me.” Lemm huffed and begrudgingly gave him a side glance. “I know this is weird. I’m still trying to figure out what’s going on, and I know this may be weighing on you but-“

“Weighing on me?!” Lemm shot up out of the water, causing the nearby bugs to get soaked and forcing Quirrel’s shade to float a few feet back. “That is a huge understatement. I lost my shop. My life was built around that shop! And now it’s gone, in a blink of an eye!” Lemm advanced towards Quirrel’s shade, causing to him back up some more. The godseeker was about to stop Quirrel when the shaman held his staff in front of her, advising her to remain patient.

“Oh but it gets better!” Lemm snarled. “You decide to save the guy that would rather die in his shop than to live on without it and you end up almost killing yourself in the process!”

“Lemm, I’m sorry, I didn’t know tha-“

“Shut it! And you know what happens next? We get kidnapped by some large-ass worm that decides to play doctor and tries to heal you but- Oh! There’s a catch! Now you’re fucking cursed for the rest of your life to be their lackey and there’s no take-backsies!”

Quirrel’s shade did his best to give him a stern look. “Lemm they were just trying to help-“

“’Help’ my ass!” Lemm retaliated loudly, prodding the shade’s wispy chest with an accusing finger. “You fucking bleed black blood Quirrel, that doesn’t seem very helpful to me!”

“I-“

“And this is also coming from the same ‘god’ that almost completely annihilated an entire fucking city Quirrel! With one punch!” Lemm paused to catch his breath, his eyes blazing as he stared into Quirrel’s frightened eyes. “And you know what the real kicker is about out of all of this?” He started quietly. Quirrel shook his head as he tried blinked back distraught tears. “I actually felt bad for you, I cared about you. I thought we were equals, at least in the field of research. But after everything that has happened, you’ve shown me that not once have you realized how bad this affected me. My life is gone Quirrel and I don’t think you ever noticed.” Lemm chuckled darkly. “And to top it all off, you keep acting all buddy-buddy with the monster that destroyed it; as if whatever it did was just a ‘simple set back’, right?”

Lemm shook his head and turned away from the stunned shade, remaining frozen where Lemm left him. After all how was Quirrel going to reply to that? Quirrel wasn’t even fully aware that Ghost was the one that originally destroyed his old workshop—or how much it devastated Lemm. He knew Lemm liked to keep to himself about some things, personal feelings specifically, but to think he was holding all this…anger back was stunning.

Godseeker, the snail shaman, and Myla watched with bated breath as Lemm walked past them and towards the exit, not sparing a single glance back at them or Quirrel’s shade. Before Lemm could disappear through the passageway however, he paused to give his parting words:

“Do me a favor, yeah? Leave me alone.” With that, he continued his weak march out of the small cavern and disappearing into the shadows of the next. “If you’ll excuse me, I got a life to rebuild.”

Chapter Text

With the Godseeker and Quirrel’s shade gone, only the grimmchild and Ghost remained in the caverns of the black lake. Not wanting to be anywhere near the scary Ghost, grimmchild decided to hang from the cavern ceiling, latching onto a stalagmite with their tail in a similar way Ghost found Grimm sleeping before dream nailing them to finish the ritual.

Ghost would occasionally look up to where they hung and coo at how cute they looked. Sometimes, red slanted eyes would peer down at them in response before closing again; and, from time to time, they would sway side to side in boredom, ocassionally so they could play with the shiny briefcase wrapped around them.

At one point Ghost was able to recognize the familiar charm case as it swayed side to side around the child’s form. Their eyes glistened as they came up with a new strategy to ease the grimmchild and help relay to them that they were their caretaker. But they had to wait for the right moment, if they were to try to grab their case now it would frighten their child.

Instead, they lied on their stomach and laid their head on their crossed arms, watching the grimmchild trying to entertain themselves.  The silence of the room along with the occasional squeak and mew from the grimmchild was relaxing to the giant, a nice break from their mild trauma from before.

Thinking about it, the shade lord wondered what that light was and why they suddenly became so hostile and afraid of it—their instincts going haywire and wanting to get rid of it. The light didn’t belong to the radiance, they knew that for sure from experience. Her light felt like they were being burned alive; almost acidy in nature. This light, while did have kind of a searing sensation to that of being burned, it was more of a force that made their body shiver in electrified waves of magnetism.

It felt unnatural.

There was only one other light they could think of that could be the source…

The Pale King.

Ghost’s stomach churned at the thought of their father. He killed thousands of their siblings and left their bodies and shades to rot in the abyss while only taking one with him; the sibling that ignored their silent pleas for help before being forgotten and locked away.

They didn’t like the memory and would’ve rather forgotten it the moment it happened, which they were blessed with when they left…but would later remember it all so they could fulfill their innate duty to unite what made them whole; the void.

And now, they are the Void.

Although they hated what his father did to their siblings, Ghost couldn’t go so far as to say they hated their father specifically. From their time traversing Hallownest and some of the wastes surrounding it, they knew from experience that not everything was what it seemed. Many tragedies occurred in the most obscure ways and most of the positive outcomes were either from being solitary to the world or living a life of ignorance—or both.

Even though Ghost scoured most if not all of Hallownest, they learned very little about their father and why he did the things he did; mainly because he was very reclusive and preferred being in his palace and away from public eyes. Reasons for this can go either way into characterizing him as bad or good.

They didn’t know, and would rather remain optimistic than accusing and frustrated towards someone who may be innocent. Feeling those feelings only made things worse, and Ghost would rather try to avoid them as much as possible—at least until they feel confident in controlling themselves when feeling that way.

Just then they felt a pit form in their stomach, their chest feeling heavy and their eyes slightly tearing up. This feeling came out of nowhere and left the shade lord very confused. This wasn’t coming from them. So where was it coming from?

An image of Quirrel’s shade flashed in the shade lord’s mind. Quirrelsad sadwhy? They became very concerned. Quirrel didn’t respond to their thoughts, instead his emotions continued to link up with Ghost’s. Every now and then, Ghost would feel pain, fear, and distress. Was Quirrel in trouble?

Ghost was getting worried by the minute.

They rose from their position and turned their head towards the small opening in the wall. Whatdo Whatdo?! Quirrelneedhelp Quirrelneedhelp! They carefully maneuvered over to the opening and peeked through in hopes of seeing something that could help them, yet all they found was darkness. Mustfollow musthelp!

Ghost tried to focus on making themselves smaller again, but doing so only exhausted the already drained giant. They didn’t have enough energy to shrink down into a more versatile form. They tried again, and again, but it only continued to deplete some of the energy they gained when they rested earlier. They started to feel sick, feeling completely ashamed and useless from their lack of progress. It was so easy for them to destroy things, but when they actually take the energy to do something to help it feels like their using up everything they have.

They hated it.

They hated what they had become.

Ghost leaned their weak body against the wall, taking in the time to catch their breath.

It doesn’t matter anymore, what’s done is done. Now is not the time to belittle themselves, Quirrel needs their help and they’re not going to give up over a trivial obstacle!

When they felt like their breathing was even again, they tried to focus once more, this time giving it all they’ve got. Finally, they started to feel the void inside and around them compress and diminish into itself. The process was a lot slower than they had originally thought but they pressed onwards despite the mental torture it was for them until they deemed themselves small enough to fit through the hole.

When they finished they almost collapsed to the ground, save for the wall beside them to push their weight again. The body shook from the forced adrenaline, and they were borderline depleted and ready to collapse. But they pushed against their need for rest and rose to compose themselves.

Grimmchild stopped swaying to gawk at the, now smaller, shade lord. They unlatched from their position and flew towards the smaller giant before perching over by a closer stalagmite, watching the shade lord in curiosity.

Ghost noticed this and gazed at the child with tired eyes. They waved their hand up at the child to signal to follow them, but the child only cocked its head to the side. Ghost didn’t expect them to feel completely comfortable being alone with them even though they were much smaller and weaker now to do any harm to the grimmchild—even though they would never even think of doing anything hurt to their child in the first place.

Instead, the shade lord slowly climbed up the wall and carefully slithered through the small shortcut. The grimmchild hesitated and looked around the room, they didn’t fully trust the wyrm monster but they also didn’t want to be alone either; and they still have to find the faint single of their charm to find their caretaker as well.

Begrudgingly, the child flew through the small hole to follow the wyrm monster.

******

When Godseeker watched Lemm disappear into the next room, she turned to the discontented shade that was barely hovering above the ground. His expression was heartbreaking, but more bewildered and sad than anything else. He stayed like that for a long time before the godseeker finally decided to walk over to them and sit by their side.

“Do not listen to that heretic.” She advised quietly. “He is no more an arrogant bastard that cared more about false objects than he did about himself and others.”

“I-I hurt him…” Quirrel’s shade whispered. “I-I thought I was helping…I didn’t mean to…”

“Enough of that nonsense!” She dismissed. “What you did was selfless and heroic, you may be a prophet now but not everything can be as predictable as nearly killing yourself by saving that bastard’s life like you did back then. You meant no harm in what you did, and however you reacted in the prior circumstances shouldn’t affect the way someone else thinks of themselves or you unless whatever you did was negative or immoral; and I believe you did no such thing!”

Quirrel’s shade looked at the godseeker with sunken eyes. “S-still…I should have been more…sympathetic to his situation…”

The Godseeker cradled the shade’s head in her hands and lifted their head up until their eyes met. “His situation was his situation, not yours. He should be blamed for stringing you along with it.”

When she let go, Quirrel’s shade lowered to the floor again; their thoughts swimming and his was heart heavy. The godseeker brought up a lot of good points, but even so Quirrel still felt responsible for how everything turned out for the relic-seeker even if it wasn’t entirely his fault. Perhaps if he made more of an effort to try to secure his shop, or help Lemm save some of his treasures, maybe Lemm would be much better—and happier—off than now. Instead he was quick to abandon the crumbling place and tried to save someone that didn’t want to be saved in the first place.

As Quirrel thought this, a smaller pair of arms hugged him. He looked up to find a small bug with a mining cap hugging him. “I-I don’t know what’s going on, or why that old bug was so mad at you,” she began hesitantly, “but no matter what happens, no matter if your struggling with yourself or o-other things, things w-will turn out and you will be okay. Also, it’s good to hug others ‘cause it’ll make you feel better inside, especially when they feel bad too; so I hope you feel better.”

Quirrel’s shade couldn’t help but smile at the kind gesture—and the cute advice she said to him as well. He could feel some of the weight on his shoulders get lighter as he allowed her thoughtful words and presence sink in and comfort the crustacean from his unforgiving thoughts.

Chapter Text

As the two bugs comforted each other, a loud sound came from the hot spring entrance. A long, black wyrm rushed through the entranceway and collapsed to the ground from exhaustion. The grimmchild that came with it was mewing and flying around the wyrm as if to get the other occupants’ attention.

Myla and Quirrel’s shade broke away in time for Quirrel to rush over without accidentally pushing the comforting pill bug out of the way. The godseeker quickly followed suit—though at a much slower pace—and didn’t stop or take notice of the shaman joining the others until they reached the shade lord’s side.

Quirrel’s shade was the first to reach Ghost and was quick to hold their head in his claws. Their face looked paler than before and their breathing was heavier than normal, but other than that they appeared unharmed.

When their gaze met Quirrel’s the first thing they did was skim over his shade, expecting it to be damaged or injured from a scuttle they were too late to prevent. However, when it was evident that Quirrel’s shade was void of any cuts or bruises, they let out a relieved sigh they didn’t know they held before leaning heavily into Quirrel’s touch to weakly nuzzle his hands.

When the others came, the grimmchild hovered slightly above the gathering crowd before deciding to perch on top of Quirrel’s head, their scarlet eyes burning with a combination of curiosity and dread. Quirrel paid no mind to the warm body on their head and continued to probe the tired wyrm.

“Stoic-one, what are you doing here?!” Quirrel asked. “I said I was going to be right back.”

Grimmchild’s ears perked at the nickname Quirrel gave the monster, instinctively looking side to side as if expecting their caretaker to pop out of some random hiding spot. But when nothing happened for a few solid seconds they drooped their head a little as they looked back at the two in from of them in disappointment as the shade started—doing what looks to be—rubbing and pinching  the monster’s cheeks. In fact it almost looked like the shade lord was enjoying it, although it seemed too weak to expression it.

Feltpain ScaredFearSadness NotMine ThoughtYours. They projected their mind to him, their tired eyes gleaming with relief. ThoughtYouTrouble CameToHelp.

Quirrel gave them a look of shock. They felt what he felt? Maybe their connection was more equally symbiotic than he initially thought? He didn’t know. He never took the chance to investigate or explore the new abilities or thought of the consequences to…whatever happened to him to cause this. Perhaps there’s something Monomon left behind in her personal archive that could send him in the right direction? Even so, now’s not the time to ponder these irritating thoughts.

Just as he was thinking this, the shaman stopped by his side and precariously placed a hand on his wispy shoulder gently enough to arouse the thoughtful scholar without scaring him.

“Hmm, you’ve got quite interesting friends don’t you?” The shaman playfully chided, earning a tired look from the scholar before turning to the tired wyrm on the floor. “Luckily we’re in a good place to help out your tired friends. Why don’t you move your friend to the hot spring so they…-hmm?”

The shaman stopped midsentence when they got a good look at the mysterious, new visitor. They weren’t sure at first, but now that they got a better of look of the horns and the familiar, though altered, presence of their soul spell, it was all laid out to the shaman.

His eyes brightened. “Oh my, how you’ve grown my friend!”

The grimmchild perked up again, nya’ing as their scarlet gaze glanced all around the room thoroughly. But when it was evident Ghost was nowhere to be found, he growled and let loose a small fireball into the air. Myla was the only one that jumped from the sudden outburst, though she was the only who was paying attention to the pretty baby, unlike the others who were more worried about the wyrm.  

Ghost glanced at the shaman who only waved one of their hands back in a tired greeting. Too exhausted to care that someone else recognized them in their new form at the moment.

The shaman grabbed their hand and shook it happily. “Oho, and look how fearsome you’ve become! I bet if you crept up behind me looking like that I might’ve died of fright!”

Okay, that hurt a little. Ghost dropped their hand and looked away, their expression a little pained as they closed their eyes to focus back on Quirrel’s comforting presence. Noticing this, Quirrel exchanged a rude look with the deflated shaman.

“Oho, did I touch a nerve? I apologize.” He said, raising his hands in surrender. “I guess a new form wasn’t the only thing you gain, hmm?”

Quirrel gave him a tired look.

The shaman took that as a hint. “Right then…how about we get you guys in the water, hmm?”  

Quirrel nodded. He can think more about his thoughts later, right now they should help their stoic-friend rest in the healing waters. Though, he couldn’t do it alone. While they are much smaller compared to before, they doubted he and the shaman alone could lift them to the hot spring, even with the help of everyone here.

Just as Quirrel’s shade was about to start asking around for help, the said wyrm slowly rose and slinked towards the water. Quirrel offered to help but Ghost refused, they thought Quirrel was going through enough; whatever it was that Ghost felt back then, it was evident now more than ever that it came from Quirrel, considering they noticed how there were dried stains of what seemed to be tears streaming down his cheeks, and his evident tired demeanor as of late. Whatever happened, Quirrel was still trying to recover from it. The least they could do was save Quirrel the pain of having to carry them to the water when they could easily do it themselves.

As they crept closer they spotted their friend’s body leaning against the edge, they involuntarily shuttered at seeing their friend’s limp body over there when they were just talking to him here. That and…

They shook their head as they tried to calm themselves down, they didn’t want to remember what happened to him. Though, unfortunately, it wasn’t something that could be ignored. If his body was healed, Quirrel should go back inside. The shade lord had no idea how he was going to do that, though knowing Quirrel he’ll figure it out—they would be damned if they had to strike him down in order to return to his physical body like how they always did when their shade escaped theirs.

Ghost they gestured their head towards it and back at Quirrel. Bodybody ShouldGoBack.

Quirrel agreed, though after what recently happened, the thought of entering back into his old body completely left his mind, making Quirrel’s shade flush in mild embarrassment for forgetting such an important thing.

He caught up to Ghost just as they slinked headfirst into the water before resurfacing next to Quirrel’s unconscious body. The hot water immediately eased the tense void in their body, though it wasn’t enough to calm their mind as they shifted their gaze from Quirrel’s shade to his body. It was still very pale but the wound across his chest mended itself, though not without an evident scar.

The sight made the void churn uncomfortably, even in the soothing waters, but the appearance of Quirrel’s shade being next to them drew their attention away from the sensitive sight and back to their friend. The shade examined his body curiously, making note of the new scar and his very pale appearance.

“Lemm was right,” He muttered to himself as one of his claws subconsciously outlined the newly mended pieces of shell on his chest. “It looks as if all the color was seeped out of me.”

The Grimmchild, still roosting on Quirrel’s head, crooned his head to look at the body double in curiosity before leaning too far and plopping into the unconscious Quirrel’s lap. There was a bunch of splashing as the Grimmchild struggled to reiterate themselves above water, albeit unsuccessful.

Ghost quickly reacted and gently plucked them from Quirrel’s lap and held them to their chest. Grimmchild wriggled their body in an attempt to get free as they coughed up steam, but Ghost’s grip was too strong. As they continued to cough, Ghost lightly petted their back to help them get it out of their system.

“Poor thing,” Quirrel said as they placed their hand in between their horns. “Are they alright?”

Ghost nodded as they started to rub their back once they stopped coughing. TheyOkay ITakeCare

Grimmchild hated the fact that they were being held by the scary monster, but at this point they were just glad they were out of the water. Though they gave Quirrel the most displeased glare it could give him, as if them falling in the water was their fault.

Quirrel had to withhold a giggle when he noticed the funny look the grimmchild was giving him. He quickly turned away just as the shade lord noticed and gave him a confused look as to why he was suddenly lauging.

When Quirrel was finally able to calm back down, he went back to investigating his body. He placed his hand on his chest and lightly pushed it, there was contact but there was no hint as to how he could get back in his body. He turned to Ghost. “H-how do I do-“

Before he could even finish his sentence, Quirrel felt a strong pull as he noticed bits and pieces of his shade disappeared into his physical form. The feeling wasn’t painful but it felt very uncomfortable as he felt his shade stretch and pull under a new, invisible force of gravity. Suddenly there was a sensation as if all the weight in the world was placed on his shoulders and pinning him to the ground before his vision faded to black.

Chapter Text

Everything was silent, not even the echoes of the crumbling rocks from the other side of the cavern reached the ragged trio; their sleeping forms and thoughtless minds unhindered from the deafening silence and the occasional quiet sounds that penetrated air from time to time.

Moments before, Ogrim conversed with the other two and believed that they should rest before looking for medical help. The Hollow Knight agreed with the Dung Defender, feeling the exhaustion from the scrambling journey creep into their form. Though as much as they wanted to help their father immediately and get out of this crumbling chasm, there wasn’t much they could do—after all where else can they go when the only home they knew of was destroyed before their eyes?—so taking everything in strides and adhering to the former White Defender’s advice was all they could accomplish for now.

The Pale King on the other hand had no words to say and allowed the other two to do what they needed. What else could he say? He had no idea what was going on, who the knights were, or why they were so wounded; even more jarring with how enamored they were with him when he doesn’t even know his own identity himself.

Considering how far down they were and how hidden they were from the main roads, there was no need to keep watch for any enemies or feral creatures, instead they gave each other room for comfort and maneuvered themselves into a comfortable sleeping position.

Ogrim was the first to fall asleep. He rolled up into a ball and leaned himself against the more “comfortable-looking” rubble. It took The Hollow Knight a little longer, deciding to stay where they were and leaned against the egg, while still cradling their father. The Pale King allowed them to continue swaddling him if it meant it would make the giant feel better—though not without instinctively begging fate that he wouldn’t be squished to death as they slept.

Though as time flew by, the Pale King wasn’t able to fall asleep. There were too many questions flooding his head, so much so it made him anxious and a little irritated. He hated not knowing something—something he deduced to be part of his personality—and his scientific and logical need to theorize and figure things out didn’t let him take it lying down. He was a scientist at heart, even though he didn’t know himself so the thought of being ignorant left him reeling in self-disgust.

He waited until the bigger knight’s breathing was deep and heavy before he gently slithered out of their grasp and stood back up again. He looked back to make sure he hadn’t awakened them before calmly slithering away into a random direction. He thought walking around would help turn the wheels in his head, but he only got gravel instead. He found himself lying face first in the ground, completely shaken and confused, before growling at himself when realization hit him.

He forgot how to walk.

He figured remembering how to speak would tell him he still remembered the basic fundamentals of living, but he guessed wrong.

He hates being wrong.

The thought of not being able to walk made him feel even more inferior--despite just coming out of an egg.

He spat out a stray pebble that flew into his mouth and wobbled back into an upright position. Now wasn’t the time to grovel, he thought as he dusted himself off, if he walked before he can do it again. Right?

Of course. (From what he could tell) he was fully grown and capable of deep thought and very receptive to his surroundings, surely learning to walk again will be easy?

Perhaps. But he doesn’t see himself rushing headfirst to accomplish something, that’s how mistakes happen. He’s a natural perfectionist by trade after all.

He outstretches his arms into a T-pose and slowly slithers his lower body to accelerate himself forwards at a very slow pace. All was well for the first few seconds before he quickly lost his balance and fell to the ground again, but this time he was ready, having his arms in front of him to break the fall just before his head could hit the broken pavement.

“Improvement,” he muttered to himself as he slowly got up again. “But I still have a lot more work ahead of me if I’m to master this (again).” He muttered the last part bitterly as he dusted himself off once more before setting off to try again.

This went on for a while, a repeated process of moving before losing balance and falling to the floor, though there was improvement by how long he could last, the Pale King became more and more tired and irritated from the small progress he has made.

Though he has refused to give up. Failure will not be tolerated.

However, the constant sounds of something slithering through rocks followed by a small thump has not gone unnoticed by the larger knight. Though they were in a deeper sleep, they were still a seasonal knight that prided in their name-sake, and had their senses trained to be alert at all times—specifically for sleep since they were supposed to seal away an enemy that thrived in the dream realm, after all.

Hearing the sound for the first time brought the knight’s conscious back into the waking realm only to immediately notice the absence of the warmth in their arm. Luckily, they only needed to shift their large head slightly to find their father doing…something.

They didn’t understand what it was he was doing at first, but they were able to catch on quick, and it left them feeling disheartened. To think that their father had to relearn how to walk was a heartbreaking thought, but seeing the determination in his eyes made them inwardly smile. They were confident in his father’s ability to do anything through sheer perseverance alone, they were very proud of their father’s ingenuity and self-motivation.

Even so, they wished they could do more for their father. Anything to help him make things easier. Instead, all they can do was watch as their determined father kept falling to the ground over and over again.

Yet the Pale King hasn’t noticed his quiet audience. Not until he fell to the ground one last time. As he fell, one of the large, sharp rocks from the rubble punctured one of his palms, causing the monarch to cry out in pain as he held his bloody hand close to his chest.

The Hollow Knight jolted upright and sprung into action only to weakly collapse back to the ground, void of energy.

The Pale King whipped his head around in shock and noticed the knight struggling to stand back up again. Quickly as he could, the Pale King slithered over to them only to fall short again, but quickly stood back up again and raced to the collapsed knight. Just as he was about to fall once more, he caught himself on the knight’s large horns. They raised their head and helped the king to reconstitute himself.

The king looked down to find the knight staring up at him, their eyes locked for a brief moment before the pale king’s wounded hand pulsed and forced the king to flinch away and let go of the knight’s horns before grabbing at their bloody hand once more.

It oozed a combination of glowing, white and dark matter. The puncture itself was pretty deep but not enough to pierce through the entire hand. The sight made the king want to vomit. Never had he seen something so gruesome!

Just as he was about to faint from the ghastly sight, the knight placed their large hand over his and softly closed their fist around it. The king was so occupied from his hand he hadn’t noticed the knight crawling close to him until they were directly behind him.

They rested their head on one of his shoulders and softly squeezed his father’s hand, the air becoming dense as the air glowed faintly from both him and the knight, the light focusing onto the hand before it suddenly released, blobs of white light disintegrated into the air as the knight released their hold on the hand, revealing it to be completely healed.

The king gawked at the hand, raising it to his face as he studied it in disbelief, ignorant to the knight lifting their head from their shoulders.

“H-how, h-how did you do that?” The pale king said as he turned his head to face the tired knight. “How did you heal my hand?”

The hollow knight stared at the pale king in silence before turning around and pointing to the spot where they were sleeping earlier. Though the king understood, he was still begrudging to accept, until the knight offered its only hand to him.

Confused, the king took it only for him to be pulled to stand in front of them with their hand still grasping his, their form easily towering over his.

“What are you doing?” The Pale King asked.

The hollow knight gestured their head towards the same spot, their hand gently squeezing his.

The pale king’s head briefly flushed red in embarrassment when he realized what they were trying to do.

They wanted to help him walk.

He took a moment to calm himself and to shut the degrading thoughts out of his mind before turning away from the knight in a huff, though still clutching his hand.

“Just so you know I am capable of learning on my own.” He started. “But I will also gladly take up your offer if it means it will help.” He quickly finished.

The hollow knight glowed at the response allowing the king to set up the pace for the short walk ahead.

The dung defender, however, was completely oblivious to all that has happened, his senses still dulled from his years of exile.

Chapter Text

It was dark at first, he was surrounded by nothingness until he too became nothing.

Or at least, that’s what he thought at first.

Suddenly a heavy weight overcame Quirrel along with a familiar, stinging sensation in his chest. He could feel the aches and strains from his tired muscles in arms—and legs?!—along with the added familiarity of heavy eyelids. That’s when he realized that he was back; he was back in his body again.

Though he was so used to being weightless—being able to naturally levitate and be immune to the natural gravity of the world—the sudden weight made the exhausted scholar dizzy and nauseous. He couldn’t help but mutter a quiet moan as a sudden wave of pain stretched across his mind when he tried to blindly reiterate himself, hoping to stop the vertigo before it climaxed into a more passive-aggressive form of motion sickness.

His movement was stiff and robotic, the body still feeling a little alien and unwell from him being separated from it for so long. Quirrel went to subconsciously lean against the edge of the pool, resting his head on the hard, yet comfortable ledge.

Although his senses have yet to fully come back to him, he could hear the lapping and splashing of the water, followed by the feeling of his head being picked up and laid against something soft. Then he felt an arm wrap around his back and lay against his opposite side, pulling him closer to the now softer edge of the spring. He didn’t need to open his eyes to see who it was that he was leaning against.

As if he needed further proof, a familiar whisper lightly touched his conscious. QuirrelOkay QuirrelOkay?

Quirrel instinctively pressed his head harder against the soft cushion. “Y-yes…” He mumbled. “Just….tired…”

Quirrel could feel the shade lord relax at his weary answer, one of their hands stroking his head.

Metoo Metoo Sleep Sleep

Quirrel didn’t need to be convinced, he didn’t even last a minute.

******

The grimmchild was disheartened. And wet.

They hated wet!

But they’d rather be wet if it meant they could be with their caretaker again. If they were here that is.

The shade lord left them at the edge of the spring so they could snuggle make sure Quirrel was okay without also having to worry about the child falling in again.

Luckily, the water was much warmer than the water in the City of Tears so they weren’t as cold as before, but that wasn’t the problem.

Grimmchild still misses their Ghost.

They knows they’re close. They can practically taste the flame their charm beaconed. Yet it was nowhere to be found! No matter which we way they go it seems to always be the same; they were close but not close enough. As before, it felt like the flame was being muffled, as if something was trying to snuff out the flame from the charm.

They absentmindedly turned to look at the dark behemoth leaning against the scholar, if they knew better, they bet that that monster had something to do with it.

Maybe it ate ghost? The thought drained the color from the child’s face and they immediately scurried away from the edge of the spring over to the talking trio of bugs on the other side of the room that congregated to chat while others rested.

Without batting an eye, the wet grimmchild maneuvered in-between the triangle and hid in front of the large godseeker, making sure the child was out of sight and hidden from the shadelord’s perspective, even though the lord of shade was sound asleep.

The feeling of something wet nudging against her leg made the godseeker stop speaking to look down and notice the trembling child with a look of fright plastered on their pale face.

“God of nightmares, what troubles you so?” The godseeker said softly, taking extra care not to startle the already startled child.

The child only croaked in response before roughly nudging their head harder into her thigh.

Before the godseeker could do anything, Myla walked over and went to pet the grimmchild’s back. She couldn’t hear what the little round one was saying, but it was enough to catch the little one’s attention for them to remove their head against the godseeker’s leg to get a good look at her. She continued to talk very softly to the child, calming them down enough to allow her to hold the shivering child and hug them tightly.

Watching the cute exchange unfold, the shaman laughed. “Ho ho, poor thing. Myla you sure do have a way of helping others!”

Myla’s cheeks flushed at the compliment. “T-thank you. I’m just glad I was able to help…him?” Myla’s face turned two shades darker in embarrassment. “I-I don’t know their gender…”

“Most gods don’t have one.” The godseeker replied, offering to take the child into their own claws. Myla happily gave the child to her as she continued. “Though some prefer having a specific representation of themselves that falls into either/or. I know because I have met some that wanted to be seen as a Mother or a Father to all their children. This one,” she emphasized with her claw by lightly booping its nose, “their previous incarnations have always preferred being male.”

Myla gave the godseeker a blank stare but kept nodding her head, not understanding a word she said but not wanting to be rude either. Luckily the shaman at her side gave her the aide she needed. “Higher beings are very different from us Myla; emotionally, spiritually, and physically. The way they are defined is on a whole other field of understanding, most of which can’t even begin to understand let alone learn. So it’s okay if you don’t understand.”

“I can.” The godseeker mumbled quietly to herself.

“So…it’s a boy?” Myla asked.

“Yes.” He replied.

“Will they ever change their mind and decide to be a girl instead?”

The shaman chuckled. “Who knows.” He placed a comforting hand on her head. “You are a very sweet bug, to worry over something so trivial, but I’m sure they’ll let you know if he decides to change it.”

She smiled and nodded her head in understanding.

Meanwhile the godseeker’s attention went back to the less-frightened child that seemed to spare a glimpse at the shade lord and quirrel in the hot spring.

“Does the shade lord worry you?” She asked quietly, her head following the child’s gaze.

The child let out a noise that seemed to be a combination of a mew and growl.

She stroked the child’s head softly. “There is nothing to be afraid of. Though their power is great and their ability to consume any and everything is indeed frightening, they have shown no aggression towards us and only the foes that dared strike against it.”

The child didn’t seem to be convinced as he continued to growl softly in the shade lord’s direction; starting to convince himself that the monster did indeed eat little ghost and is feeding off h chisarm. How else did the feeling of the flames being extinguished arise then? Void obviously. Thankfully it’s a flame that acts as a summoning and not as a life force for the nightmare heart.

As the child continued to stew in his own mental cage they had made, the godseeker was in her own, the gears turning away the dust as her memories fluttered to life. Back when the god of gods was just a little vessel and she thought they were a filthy mongrel that somehow got passed her mental boundaries. She remembered now that there were a few times the god of nightmare’s offspring tagged along on some of the battles she had witnessed. It was clear they had a thriving companionship between the two, and yet right now the child acts as if the shade lord is not the same person.

Maybe the child didn’t know they were one and the same? Or perhaps believe they are a completely different entity altogether? The godseeker doubted the latter, it was very clear the moment She and the shade lord had awakened from the destruction of godhome that they were the same fighter, they could feel their vibrant core inside their new body just as it once inhabited its old one. On top of that, they’re unemotional mannerisms (though now they seemed to be full of emotion as if they were suddenly gifted with soul) and reaction to her when they met again after her home was destroyed showed they held all their memories.

And yet the child wasn’t with them when they had awakened, so maybe that was why? Whatever the case may be, the godseeker wasn’t going to let this stand. She must help her deity anyway she can, even if it was something as trivial as reuniting old companions.

“Child,” the godseeker began, nudging the child to look back up at her. It took a moment for him to realize she was trying to get their attention and looked up at her curiously. She then pointed her free claw to the shade lord. “Does not thou recognize them?”

The child was confused, of course he knew what it was. It’s the monster everyone keeps calling ‘shade lord’ or something. He tilted his head slightly and mrowed as if to say he didn’t understand.

The godseeker hummed in thought, looking back at the tired lord of shade when an idea surfaced. She turned back to the shaman and pill bug. “I’ll be right back.”

She then slowly shuffled over to the scholar and the small giant. The minute she started heading over to them though, the child tried to climb out of her claws only for her to squeeze him tighter in her hold. “Calm yourself O god of nightmares, I’m trying to help.”

When she finally reached close enough to be touching distance away from the sleepy bugs, she spoke softly to get their attention. “O great god of gods…”

The black figure holding the sleeping scholarly seemed to slump their shoulders in a ‘oh great what now’ motion before they slowly turned their head to witness the scene of a child throwing a mini tantrum in the godseeker’s arms as he wiggled and squirmed like mad to get out of her clutches. The calm, stoic face mask and the softer tone she had just spoke as well only added to the awkward scene in front of them.

“I apologize for disturbing you from your slumber but I believe this is important.” She continued.

The child continued to hiss loudly, almost too loud to actually listen to her speak, trying to retaliate by biting her but she spun him in a way so he couldn’t reach any part of her. They could even see the two bugs in the back watching, the shaman laughing while Myla looked worried.

Ghost didn’t want to move from their spot in case it woke Quirrel up, but at this point the loud hissing and growling might do that instead. Compromising, the shade lord left the upper pair of his arms holding Quirrel where they were and instead rotated their head and lower pair of arms 180 degrees to fully face the godseeker in a very unnerving fashion. The act made the godseeker flinch but otherwise fine, the grimmchild however immediately stopped what he was doing and gave them a horrified look  before scrunching himself up into a ball– Myla even let out a small shriek before shrinking on herself when she realized what she had done.

Ghost was taken aback. They didn’t mean to scare anyone, if they had known they wouldn’t have done it. How were they supposed to know rotating parts of their body would be unnerving? They could name a few bugs that did it. Though now that they think about it, it did unnerve Ghost a little when the bugs did it in front of them – and most of them did come from Deepnest of all places…

“I apologize for the reaction; your abilities are still able to impress us mortals.” She said, petting the now shivering ball in her claws. “But I came here to highlight something very important.” She knelt down and held the ball out for Ghost to hold. They hesitated at first before cradling the small child close to them. “I don’t think they know who you are- no, who you were.”

When Ghost realized what she was talking about they sadly nodded. They looked down to see Grimmchild tremble even more from the cold their body exhumed, not even the warm, hot spring vapors seemed to help. They wanted to convey to him this but they had no voice. Or at least not one the child could hear.

“I had a feeling so allow me to help.” The godseeker offered. “Allow me to tune with you so I can be your voice.”

They didn’t think letting the godseeker connect with their thoughts would be a good idea – they’re still trying to figure that out with Quirrel – but they were getting desperate and Quirrel was out of commission for the time being to help.

With no other option, Ghost finally nodded.

“Then allow me to access your mind.”

She began to hum, the god tuner on her mask glowing faintly as a piece of her essence immediately entered the shade lord’s mind. They were uncomfortable at first, the feeling of unease one would feel when a stranger enters your home and you don’t know if they’re going to leave you alone or hurt you. But they knew better, their mind was their domain and the godseeker was there to help not heed. He focused on what to say to grimmchild, allowing the essence to encircle that piece of their mind as an invisible thread raced back to connect with the godseeker’s mind. As they continued to focus, they suddenly noticed the godseeker was no longer in front of them but next to them, holding out her claw to them.

“Now, hold my claw so I can transfer your inner voice to mine.”

They did as she instructed and immediately, they felt the thread that connected them come to life and feel a piece of themselves transfer into the mind of the godseeker, giving them complete control of her. It felt odd but not enough to be disturbing.

They tried to say something. “Grimmchild.” Ghost was taken aback by how warped her voice became, but it did not deter them from continuing. The child immediately unfurled his head as he looked up at the godseeker with a horrified form of curiosity. “Look at me.”

He let out high pitched mrow, he was looking at her!

“Not her! Me!”

Ghost prodded the child with their snoot to grab Grimmchild’s attention. He nearly jumped out of Ghost’s claws when they did, the child visibly shaking as his pale face looked at Ghost’s.

Ghost was quick to apologize before nudging the child more softly. “I’m sorry, for everything. I didn’t mean to leave you there. I didn’t even realize I was still wearing your charm when I arrived back here from godhome.”

The child was confused. What were they talking about?

“I’m also sorry for scaring you. I’m still trying to figure my body and powers out, I never intended to lash out when I sensed that light or when I attacked the bugs that hurt Quirrel or when I caused all those earthquakes. I’m sorry!”

The shade lord’s eyes started to water as they continued to nudge the confused child. But when Ghost spared a glimpse at the godseeker they were horrified to see tears of void also stream down her face. They needed to hurry and finish what they had to say before the godseeker could get consumed by the void again.

“Listen,” they said as Ghost awkwardly paced their large forehead on the grimmchild’s. “It’s me, it’s Ghost. Remember when we first met and I helped you eat all your flames?” Realization started to shine in the child’s eyes. “Remember when you kept spewing those flames at the mantis’s even though I tried to make you stop?” The child’s eyes started to water as well, his tears a light, fiery red. “Or how about those times you shot those oomas in the fog canyon and almost killed me when they shot back at me?” Grimmchild looked at the shade lord, his eyes glistening as he mrrowed at them repeatedly, as if asking them if it was really them. Ghost nodded vigorously before letting go of the godseeker’s claw to fully embrace the child—their child.

Severing the connection brought the godseeker back to consciousness, coughing as if she hadn’t taken a breath of air the entire time Ghost connected to her. The shade lord and grimmchild broke their hug to look up at her with worry. The godseeker continued to cough but she waved them off and started back over to the other two bugs who were clapping as if they were watching a soap opera—Myla herself had tears in her eyes and the shaman showing a genuine smile instead of his usual, hidden smirk.

Figuring that the godseeker would be okay, Ghost and grimmchild went back to their hug. Happy that they officially reunited once again.

Chapter Text

Something felt wrong when she had finally awakened. The buzzing feeling in the back of her head was gone and she no longer felt the slight, but refreshing feeling of enlightenment that the pale light brought with it. Even so, her head still pulsed slightly from the sudden movement of her brash awakening and was met with blurred vision.

As if she needed more things to worry about, more things seem to just appear and disappear without a chance for her to figure how or why, and the princess was having enough of it.

Speaking of things disappearing…

The minute her head stopped spinning she got up and looked for her needle, disregarding the old cot and scratchy blanket she was just under.

She didn’t get far without a scruffy voice interrupting her. “I take it you’re looking for this?”

She turned her head to see the former blacksmith holding up the needle gently with both claws. She hesitated before she awkwardly walked up to the old man, her face a mix of irritation and embarrassment before she promptly yanked her deadly instrument out of his hands.

“Yes. Thank you.” She forced, not trying to look at the old bug in the eyes. She was overwhelmed enough about the fact that the two older bugs basically tried to force her to rest, however, the fiasco with Sheo stealing her needle…

She never liked the feeling of being messed with, even if it’s with good intentions.

“I’m sorry if Sheo made you mad.” He continued, eyeing the now poorly-fixed ogrim figure on the table. “He can be rather...forceful when he’s around people that are in pain.”

Hornet huffed and made her towards the door. “That so? Tell him he has skill and that I am thankful for his concern.” She paused to open the door only to finally look at the bug out of the corner of her eye. “But I don’t like being treated like a child.”

The former blacksmith smiled and chuckled. “I will. Good luck in your travels.”

Hornet walked out and shut the door behind her. How long was she out? Hours? Days? She didn’t know, it’s hard to tell time when you grew up in a kingdom that seemed to be frozen in time. Although, from the odd earthquakes and the instance of her fath- the pale king’s presence she knew something was going on. Luckily, after having such a long rest her head and shoulders feel much lighter and less…crowded? She couldn’t explain it, but she felt lighter than air. It was as if she was cleansed.

She guessed the painter was right, she needed to rest and she wasn’t given herself as much care as she should have.

She was burned out. From everything. And when she thought it was over a whole other set of problems suddenly appeared and she went into overload. She couldn’t take it anymore.

She spared a glance at her needle and stared at her reflection it gave. If her mother was here she probably would’ve scolded her for not taking proper care of herself. It didn’t matter if she had the weight of the kingdom on her shoulders, even protectors needed to stop and rest before they could continue their duty.

She wants to kick herself for not doing the most basic thing to do in survival, but she knew it wouldn’t solve anything. She needed to go back to watching over the kingdom; something is going and she needs to find out what!

She threw her needle in the direction of the main road in Greenpath and leapt off. Throwing her needle continuously, she maneuvered around the pillars of moss and rock as she moved room to room, cavern to cavern until she finally made her way to the entrance of Greenpath. When she reached the landing however, a familiar figure stood before her, leaning against the side of the entrance with a satchel of berries and seeds in his hand.

Before she could say anything he tossed the bag to her and, though caught off guard, she caught it with ease. The paintmaster walked up to her with his claws up in mock surrender, a gentle smile on his face. She returned with an annoyed grimace before pocketing the satchel.

“I take it you’re still mad?” He asked.

She did not answer him.

He chuckled. “Sometimes even the greatest warriors need to be reminded to do what’s best for themselves and not for just the best of others.”

She sighed. “You’re right. Though I wish you had chosen a better method to remind me.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “It was in the moment.”

She scoffed and walked up to him until they were a few feet apart. “I suppose…that’s a fair answer.”

She walked past him as she readied her thread and needle for another jump, bidding a silent goodbye to the odd paintmaster.

“Have you had a disagreement with one of your close friends?”

Hornet froze, causing the thread she made to miss the loophole in her needle entirely. She slowly turned her head to him. “What?”

“I know what’s it like.” He continued, turning around to face her fully. His face suddenly sulken and void of his regular cheer. “When you’re through something like that it’s easy to see the signs in others.” He took a few steps forward to close the gap. “And I saw it in you when we first met.”

The Hollow Knight immediately entered her mind, recalling the very few times she met them and the emotional connection they made at the hot springs. She felt betrayed when they were still loyal to the king after everything he did, but she never hated them. In fact, she missed them dearly.

She turned to face the paintmaster. “I have, but it’s not something that you can help with.”

“Not necessarily.” He said. “As I had said, I’ve been through that pain before and I was able to make amends, but…” He paused and looked away. “I was able to reconnect with one of my brothers but my other has yet to forgive himself and remains in isolation from either of us.” He looked back up at Hornet. “It’s easy to place blame on them or yourself but you must understand that no matter what you or they think, believe, or feel, it’s a natural part of a relationship. You are supposed to butt heads with some things, even with the extremities; there is no such thing as a perfect relationship, and that’s okay. You need to find your ground, their ground, and the middle ground.”

He walked before her and placed a comforting claw on her shoulder. “It’s okay to disagree on something but still be there to support them; you and whoever the bug you’re having a disagreement with, it’s okay to not believe in the same thing but still share the same love and support for each other.”

He moved his claw away and took a few steps back to give her some space. Hornet was at a loss for words, trying to take in all the sudden advice from the same paintmaster that played ‘keep away’ with her needle. However, even with such good advice something like this will take time to think over and come to her own conclusion on what she should do.

“Me and my partner will always be here.” He said. “Our home is open to you.”

Hornet slowly nodded as she was still absorbed in her own thoughts. “T-thank you.”

She turned and jumped off the platform and headed towards the city above ground.

Chapter Text

Lemm was beside himself; lost, forlorn. At least that’s what some of the bugs believed just from looking at  as he sat at the only bench in Dirtmouth. Even the Elderbug had his own thoughts as to why the bug looked so sad, normally he would be the first to ask, however…while the older, scruffy-looking bug held an air of remorse and their hunched over position didn’t need to be explained, it was the very aggressive-looking grimace on the bug’s face that held the Elderbug at bay.

Unbeknowst to the Elderbug or the rest of Dirtmouth’s citizens, that was just his default expression; but with the lack hope in the bug’s eyes made his expression all the more darker than it should.

And so, for now, Lemm was left alone to be in his own world. In any circumstance, some bug would tell him he could start over; create another workshop, find more relics and so on—time can help heal your wounds, right? They were wrong, he would say. Lemm doesn’t have the time, he’s an old bug, he’s spent most of his life doing what he loved in that shop, and telling him to start over would be more of an insult than advice. He knows he doesn’t have enough time in this world to start over let alone find somewhere else to start over.

He always thought Hallownest would be his tomb; the thought of dying with this lost city’s relics…maybe becoming another relic himself…the thought sounded so nice and fulfilling: a nice end to his life.

But now, if he were to die, there would be nothing to show what he had accomplished in his life—he’d be viewed as another stupid adventurer that bit the dust the minute he stepped on this foreign land.

The knowledge he learned would be lost, even more now that most of his possessions were lost to that travesty that led him to sulking in this sad little town. All recordings and precious relics, gone. Vanished. Destroyed!

At least if he died in his shop, he would have been destroyed along with his life’s work. A true collection of bittersweet cacophony. But now, without his ensemble, he’s just a puzzle piece without the puzzle to complete.

What he wouldn’t give to figure what to do now.

There was a flash of red that blew into his peripheral vision but he paid no mind to it, no matter how much it contrasted the gloomy blue of Dirtmouth, he preferred his isolated thoughts over the world right now.

Unfortunately, the red cloak didn’t give him that favor. “Aren’t you the so called “Relic Seeker” that lives down in the City of Tears?”

There was a delay in his response before his darkened eyes looked at the fiery ones of a bug that resembles too much like the statue that once stood tall in the plaza by his shop.

“I was.” He breathed.

“Why are you here? Did something happen in the city?”

A weak chuckle escaped his mandibles. “That’s an understatement.”

The bug before him gripped their weapon tightly before taking a commanding step to get close to his face. “What happened.”

He gave them an irritated look. “All hell broke loose. That’s what happened.”

That wasn’t enough apparently. The intimidating bug grabbed Lemm by the color of his outfit and forced him out of his seat. Though at full height Lemm was a little taller than the bug that grabbed him, he was still forced to arch his back a little so the bug could still look down on him. However, the tough act did nothing to break the already hopeless bug.

“Be more specific.”

“If you’re so damn curious why don’t you go down and see for yourself?”

Their gripped tightened, slowly choking him. “It’ll save me the trip and endeavor if you also know what caused it.”

“Then why don’t you ask the thing that caused it yourself.”

In an instant the fierce bug let go and Lemm fell on his bum. He rubbed the sore spot on his neck as he glared up at the aggressor. Though they were good at hiding it, Lemm knew they seemed distraught over the sudden revelation.

He gestured to the well they just came out of. “Blue Lake. Though they’re not hard to miss if they end up on the same path as you.”

The bug eyed them for a minute—as if trying to figure out if the information was trusting or not—before running off into the well.

Lemm slowly got back onto the bench, still rubbing the, now red, spot by his collar.

He looked to the well and shook his head. “Damn asshole.”

Lemm then turned to the only witness. The Elderbug flinched from the cold eyes Lemm gave him before huffing and returning back into his self-deprived state of mind.

The poor Elderbug was too frozen in fear to move during the entire scuffle; he didn’t have the courage to speak up either.

So, instead, he left the poor man alone. The rest of the day he decided to hole up in his house; he had had enough excitement for the day.

Chapter Text

When Ogrim finally stirred from his nap and unfurled himself into a sitting position he was met with quite a cute sight; the pale king being cradled by the hollow knight’s single arm and pulled close to their side as the large knight slept on its stomach.

Although the sight was very heartwarming to the knight, the pain from his body and the inability to feel his right arm reminded him of how serious the situation was.

When he hobbled over to the sleeping bugs, he lightly nudged the bigger knight carefully. The hollow knight’s response was to only tighten their hold on the smaller bug and curl into themselves tighter.

“Hey, we need to move. I don’t know how long our bodies can handle themselves without proper medical treatment.” Ogrim reasoned in a whisper.

It wasn’t until about a half a moment later did the hollow knight reluctantly stir itself awake, but all they could do was slowly shift their head to glance at the former white defender. Their body used up the last bit of adrenaline it had searching for their father, now their body felt too heavy to move, let alone sit up.

“I…can’t…move” They replied hoarsely.

“What? Are you in pain?”

They shook their head weakly. “No…just…too weak…too heavy…”

This was when the former Pale King finally stirred from his slumber to glance up at the round knight.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, rubbing his eyes.

Ogrim shifted his gaze to the small king. “The hollow knight can’t move. I think traveling down here took a toll on their body.”

“Hollow Knight?” This was the first time he heard such a title. He turned to get a better look at the bigger knight that was holding him to notice how slow and ragged their breathing was and their face seemed to be stricken with pain. “Will they be alright?”

The hollow knight turns to look at their father and, although very weakly, gave him what seem to be a small smile. “Do not…worry…father. I’m…just tired…”

The pale king frowned. This wasn’t caused by what they were doing when he was relearning how to walk again, right?

The pale king turned to look at Ogrim. “Is there something I can do?”

Ogrim put a claw to his head in thought. “Well, we were planning to head back up for medical assistance. Unfortunately, with the City of Tears being wiped out, and I haven’t left the waterways in so long, I don’t even know where to begin to look for a place that would help us.”

Much of what Ogrim said to the pale wyrm eluded him, but he did understand how injured they both were and the urgency of seeking help.

He remembered back when the hollow knight healed his hand, couldn’t they do the same to their body?

“They healed themselves before, can’t they do it again?” The pale wyrm asked.

Ogrim was taken aback by the question, wondering if the king remembered his past if not at least a piece of it, but the hollow knight shook their head. “I…don’t have…enough soul.”

“Can’t we find more of this…’soul’ then?”

Ogrim deflated. “I don’t remember this area very well. The best place to harness soul would be at a hot spring, but the only one I know of is in the City of Tears and I’m pretty sure it was destroyed.”

Hollow knight’s eyes widened for a moment, remembering the hot spring close to the black egg at the crossroads their sister took them to. He slowly shifted their head to the far end of the cavern, remembering the small stag station their father implemented for easy travel for his subjects and servants. Would there still be stags working now?

They looked back to Ogrim. “The stags…”

Ogrim’s eyes widened. “The stags…” He echoed. “That’s right! There’s a stag station at the end of this cavern, it might still be in service!”

“Stags?” The wyrm questioned.

“Transportation.” Ogrim clarified. “I forgot the palace had their own station here. If it still works, it’ll be much easier for us to get from one place to another.”

“There’s a…hot spring in…crossroads…” The hollow knight huffed, lowering their head back to the floor.

“Hot spring in the crossroads…” Ogrim echoed. “You mean, the roads close to the surface?”

“You said you didn’t know of any other springs, perhaps that’s our best option for now?” The pale wyrm reasoned, losing patience as he starts to get more worried for the bigger knight.

“It might be our only option for now.” Ogrim muttered. “Alright, let’s try and head to the station.”

“Alright then, we must move.” The pale wyrm said as he carefully slithered out from the hollow knight’s grasp and back into an upright position. “How do we get them there?”

“You let me worry about that.” Ogrim replied, his bravado starting to shine once more. “Why don’t you scout ahead to make sure there isn’t anything hazardous waiting for us.”

“Sounds like a plan.” The pale wyrm reflected, raising his head a little in confidence as he turned towards the far end of the cavern the hollow knight gestured to and went on his way.

He didn’t get too far before he fell headfirst into the gravel.

Ogrim jumped, his old years of knighthood instinctively wanting to run over and check on his former king when the pale wyrm immediately stood back up again. Unbeknownst to Ogrim, the pale wyrm could feel his face burn and hands shake as he forced himself to not look back, as if doing so would lessen Ogrim’s view on him.

“Are you al-“

“Yes. Yes. I am fine!” He replied hotly as he shuffled faster (albeit more carefully this time) towards the end of the cavern, feeling his face burn ever brighter he might start illuminating.

Ogrim sighed in relief. Although, the pale wyrm’s remark felt a little nostalgic to the old knight, remembering the rare times his king would become heated and lash out on his poor servants who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, was quite refreshing. He never did anything wrong when he was mad it was just…comical to watch. It made him more…real as a bug than a higher being.

Although it would sometimes be literally hard to watch considering every time he was worked up, his body would illuminate very brightly and cause everyone around him to become blind for a while.

While Ogrim proceeded to carefully hoist the hollow knight on their uninjured shoulder, the pale wyrm slithered into the small entrance of the cavern, revealing a hidden stag station devoid of any life. While the silence was deafening compared to the echoey chamber they were just in, he marveled at the intricate design of the walls and floors. Noting the small divots and illuminate shine that reflected off the stone. Such a contrast to the last chamber they were in.

When he continued inside, he noticed a bell hanging from one of the stands. It was roughly his height, if not a little taller than him; it was a curious little thing. He gazed at the golden bell a little longer, itching to ring it when Ogrim’s voice called him back to reality.

“Is it safe?” He called.

“Yes,” the pale wyrm turned and slithered back to the entrance, “the room is vacant.”

Answering the call, Ogrim slowly walked in, the Hollow Knight leaning against him heavily. Their breathing wasn’t any better, and the complexion on their face seemed even worse than before, although they seemed to be doing their best to remain stoic and unexpressive.

The pale wyrm knew they were only getting worse.

“Okay,” Ogrim huffed, straining from the weight, “I need you to ring that bell.”

The pale wyrm didn’t need to wait for any further clarification, he immediately turned and slithered further inside, fueled by the growing anxiety inside him.

He hit the bell with his hand and looked back. “Now what?”

“W-well, if the stags are still here, then one of them would-“

Suddenly, a small quake took hold of the room as a figure is seen running towards the station. Caught off guard by the shake, the pale wyrm held onto the bell staff while the combined weight and balance of the hollow knight kept Ogrim in check.

Then a large, older stag appeared through the entranceway of the track, and stopped beside the bell staff. Startled, the pale wyrm shuffled back towards Ogrim without sparing a glance away from the large creature.

Meanwhile, Ogrim muttered a thankful prayer and walked towards the stag. The pale wyrm, noticing the relief in Ogrim’s posture, quickly composed himself and went to walk alongside him and the hollow knight, but not without still being wary of the new occupant.

The stag turned to look at the new travelers, surprised to see quite a colorful group in such a remote part of the kingdom. But the one that interested him the most was the small one, noting the very familiar crown that made up his head.

“Hmm, it’s nice to see more bugs using the stagways. Although, something tells me you are no ordinary bugs.” He spoke, watching the little one curiously.

Noticing the stag weyeing him, the pale wyrm took shelter behind Ogrim and the hollow knight, though not without peaking from the round knight’s back.

“Heh, that would be quite the understatement.” Ogrim replied. “But unfortunately, we are running short on time. We need to reach the springs up in the crossroads, could you take us there?”

The stag eyed the round knight and the much bigger knight leaning against him, now noticing the grievous wounds and dried blood both share. The stag nodded his head. “I can take you there, but I am only limited to the stagways, I can’t take you directly to the springs unfortunately.”

Ogrim nodded in understanding. “That’s fine. Do you think you can handle taking all of us at once?”

The older stag chuckled. “I may be old, but I can handle the weight.”

Ogrim grinned at the willing stag and nodded his thanks. Carefully, Ogrim helped the hollow knight climb onto the front seat—following the stag’s added advice that their horns might hit the ceiling if they were in the back—and then helped the pale wyrm climb onto the back seat. Though not without quietly voicing his concerns in his regards if this was a good idea anymore or not. Ogrim constantly reassured him it would be fine.

Then, once everyone was settled, the stag took off. Upon the kickoff, the wyrm immediately clutched onto Ogrim while the round knight kept his uninjured claw on the hollow knight’s shoulder in case they lost their balance.

As they the stag continued his journey, silence befell the three on his back. After a while, The pale wyrm noticed how limp and unresponsive the hollow knight was and quickly prodded Ogrim if they were alright.

Ogrim smiled. “Don’t worry, I think they just dozed off. They tended to do that when they rode the stags before.”

The pale wyrm sighed in relief, but there was still bit of doubt persisting despite the assurance. He looked back to the hollow knight, remembering the last hours he had spent with them stemming from now to the time he crawled out of his egg; remembering their distraught face when they saw him, when they hugged him and apologized, calling them father…

“Um, round bug…” The pale wyrm began quietly. “I don’t know your name…”

“Oh! It’s Ogrim.” He replied.

The pale wyrm nodded. “Ogrim, I have a lot of questions.”

Ogrim’s face fell. He had a feeling at some point that he was going to have a discussion with the amnesiac king but he was hoping that they could discuss it at least until they found treatment first. “I know.”

“But I understand now might not be a good time to do it.” The pale wyrm continued.

Ogrim raised a brow, wondering if he was reading his mind. There have been many times his knights reminded him that he was quite easy to read sometimes, especially for the pale king, but for it to happen in this case? He started to wonder if pieces of the pale king pasts are starting to resurface now.

“But I do have one question that I want answered now.”

Ogrim nodded, he could at least give him that. “Of course.”

The pale wyrm placed a hand on the hollow knight’s horns. “Why do they call me ‘Father’?”

Ogrim was taken aback, he wasn’t expecting that question. He assumed he would say ‘who am i?’ or ‘why do you act like you know me when I just hatched?’, not ‘why does this bug call me father?’.

Ogrim looked to the hollow knight in thought, even he didn’t know the answer to that. But that didn’t mean the pale wyrm’s question would go unanswered.

“I’m afraid I’m not the one who has the answers for that, but I’m sure you know who does. They would be the one you would ask.”

The pale wyrm didn’t glance away from the hollow knight, their shell leaning into the wyrm’s touch. He slowly nodded, but he didn’t say anything more. Instead, he opted to continue petting the tired hollow knight’s head.

The rest of the trip was spent in silence.

Chapter Text

The black egg loomed before the group. Isma, Hegemol, Dryya, Zhe’mer, and Ogrim stood by the king’s side as he finished prepping the Hollow Knight’s chained armor.

This was it.

The five great knights kneeled at the king’s call before both he and the pure vessel entered the black egg. Alone.

As the two made their trek through the near-infinite path towards the chamber, the hollow knight could not help but glance at their father, who only stared down at the floor with his back hunched and his wings drooping. It was as if all the weight from holding his head high constantly in front of those who loved and trusted him came crashing down on him all at once. But he knew if he were to feign confidence, no one would fall into despair from the likeliness that this plan was going to fail.

All because he believed he would be cold-hearted enough to treat his carapace and blood to be nothing more than an object devoid of emotion.

But he was wrong.

Oh, so wrong.

He was not heartless, nor was his child.

The hollow knight hesitantly reached a hand towards him only to immediately take it back. ‘No, I’m not supposed to feel. I’m not supposed to think. I’m not supposed to speak…’

‘Do not…’

The pale king did not notice this, nor the inner conflict that stewed in the pure vessel’s mind.

Although it felt like an eternity for the king and the knight, they finally reached the entrance to the main chamber. They stood there for a moment, gazing at the large antechamber with mixed feelings. When the hollow one went to enter, however, the pale king did not follow. Noticing this, the hollow knight stopped and turned to their father-figure expectantly.

The pale king gazed up at them with empty eyes before finally shaking his head. “I’m afraid this is as far as I go.”

The hollow knight’s breath hitched, suddenly feeling a tight, strained sensation in their gut. They didn’t expect that they would enter the final phase alone.

‘Stop. You’re not supposed to feel!’

Their grip tightened on their blade, and they bowed their head in understanding. Waiting for the instructions that…would be the last they would hear from their king.

Their father.

“Listen to me,” The pale king sighed, “I cannot stay here for too long. This chamber was made out of void to further weaken the Radiance’s influence while you are here, and although we are made up from different light, I too am affected by its power.”

They tried so hard not to express their worry. ‘Then why are you here?!’ They wanted to ask.

The king lowered his head and a low chuckled escaped him. “You’re probably wondering why I’m here then, right?” The king sighed, looking upon his brand in deep thought. “I was always able to read the signs from bugs very easily, it’s easy to predict what they say, how they feel, how they think…”

The pale king trailed off and his eyes grew dark. “I don’t know if it was my fault after you came to the palace or before any of you were placed in the void but…I knew you weren’t pure.”

The hollow knight’s eyes widened as they completely lost their grip on their nail, letting it fall to floor with a lout clatter. They didn’t know what to say, what to expect, if they should do or say anything at all. Their purpose was to be pure and even though they weren’t, they tried so hard to be. They tried so hard to fit the role their father gave them.

To protect the kingdom. To protect Hallownest. To protect their loved ones.

Void started to leak out of the hollow knight’s eyes which they immediately started to rub away, hoping their father wouldn’t see, but they knew better than that.

The pale king’s eyes softened, as if in relief. “Don’t cry, my hollow knight. I’m not mad at you,” He paused as he leaned against the wall, starting to feel the full effects of the black egg consume him, “I’m mad at myself. I’m mad at what I had done to you and so many more.”

The hollow knight went to run to their father to help him when he raised his hand to stop them. “Don’t worry, once I finish what I have to say, I’ll begin the ritual to summon the Radiance and you will take it from there.”

The hollow knight was very reluctant, but not enough to disobey their father.

“You may not have been a pure vessel; devoid of thoughts or feelings.” The pale king smiled. It was a smile the hollow knight hadn’t seen in a very long time. “But you were still pure to me.”

The hollow knight blinked, feeling the void leak once again, but this time they just let it flow. They would rather focus on that smile a little longer before having to obscure their vision again, even if only for a moment—they were worried if they did, they would never see it again.

“I have nothing left to save Hallownest; I have no more plans, no more options…no more time. You are all Hallownest has left. You are our last hope, my hollow knight.” The king bowed his head. “I wish I could’ve found a better solution, but I have nothing left to give…except you. I’m so sorry.”

Glowing orbs of white gathered in the corners of the pale king’s eyes. “I told myself that there was ‘no cost too great’ for the protection and preservation of Hallownest, but I was wrong, so, so wrong.” They bowed their head. “As a king, my job was to give everything away for the sake of my kingdom. I’ve done all I ever could, my job is finished. But my role as a father has not…”

Soul-filled tears streamed down the king’s face. “I’m here because I wanted to say goodbye and to part you with my final gift.” He held out his hands to his chest and shaped his claws to form an orb. A bright, glowing orb of white surfaced from his chest and formed together in his claws before he projected the ball of light to the hollow knight. The small ball collided with the hollow knight’s head before absorbing into its shell.

At first, the hollow knight felt very uncomfortable as the light absorbed itself into its being, the void inside themselves writhing in agony until the light disappeared into the black, soothing the void inside once more.

They examined themselves, trying to see what changed when they turned their attention back to their father, who was wiping away the excess soul from their eyes with their sleeve. When the king looked back, the hollow knight suddenly noticed how weaker he looked.

“I gave you a piece of my foresight, with it you can be able to see anything and everything going on in the kingdom while you are locked away. Though, unfortunately, it may be limited, and it will take time to master, but I’m afraid that’s all I can give.”

The king sighed and weakly straightened himself again, pushing himself away from the wall. “It’s time, prepare yourself my pure vessel.”

The hollow knight couldn’t believe it, all this time it believed that if it were to act out, if it were to show itself as anything but void, the pale king would reject them—maybe even kill them—but over time it felt like it knew the king wasn’t capable of it. Despite this, however, it never thought that their father would not only accept their individualism, but also show enough love and care that he would impart such an important gift to them.

As much as they wanted to say ‘thank you’ or express their gratefulness in a hug, they knew they were out of time. They wiped the void from their face and grabbed their nail off the ground. They gave their father a determined look, ready to begin their final fight and fulfill their role as the infection’s containment.

The pale king returned the look, although much less ambitious than their child’s, before he gathered the last of his energy into another ball of light. But this time, he shot the ball of light into the air before exploding into what looked to be a white essence derived of symbols from many different types of dreamcatchers.

The entire chamber lit up as it was shrouded in a dream-like mist. Then white lines and etchings appeared all over the room until it converged onto the only exit of the chamber, a protective barrier appearing before the pale king. He placed his claw on it and looked into the chamber with a distant look in his eyes.

“The stage is set; I must now take my leave before the black egg completely drains me.”

The hollow knight only nodded in response, wielding their nail upright and shifting themselves into a battle-ready position.

The pale king weakly smiled a sad smile, muttering quietly to themselves as they turned away. “Goodbye my child.”

Everything faded to black then, but not before a piercing cry of the radiance echoed throughout the dream.

***

The hollow knight awoke with a start, only to realize it was still on the stag. It didn’t realize it fell asleep. They turned to look back at the other two passengers to find that the pale king had dozed off while Ogrim shared a quiet smile before making a ‘shh’ gesture. Although he immediately looked a little flustered upon realizing that asking the hollow knight to be quiet—even if it was a joke—might be a little insensitive.

The hollow knight gave them what looked to be comforting smile before turning back around to face forward. Fighting the urge to fall asleep again.

***

The radiance’s cry echoed in the pale king’s mind.

The king sat on his throne, surrounded by both dream essence and the void. They waited in silence, waiting for the source of the infection to fall for his crudely set trap. When she would come to the wyrm’s palace, he will purposiley aggravate the already loose void in his laboratory and have the void consume them both in a last-ditch effort to save Hallownest, his kingdom, and his child.

He waited and waited, but she never came.

The pale king was suddenly struck with a sense of horror, starting to doubt if she would come at all.

In an act of desperation, he screamed for her, calling for the Radiance to come and claim his palace and his life, but she didn’t answer.

This was bad. If he waited too long the void will consume him and only him. His sacrifice would be in vain, and the hollow knight will be forced to endure the pain for the rest of their lives.

He screamed again, flaring his wings as he mustered all the energy he could into his being. But his body spasmed as he was suddenly overcome by a gregarious coughing fit. He covered his mouth as he continued hack whatever his body was rejecting. After his coughing stopped, he gazed down into the palm of his hand to find black specks of void.

As if responding to the pale king’s call, void tendrils sprung up out of the gaps and cracks in the walls and floors. They circled around his throne and began to close in on him.

It was over.

He had failed.

He had failed his kingdom, and his family.

Tears of soul landed on the black vines, absorbing into the dark as the pale king’s light faded. He wrapped his ethereal wings around him in shame as tears cascaded his vision.

His world was being consumed by the darkness.

He couldn’t help but chuckle darkly, as he thought of his Root and his Pure Vessel, silently apologizing for his failures.

“No cost too great.” He mocked with an empty smile, before allowing the void to swallow him whole.

***

The pale wyrm awoke to find Ogrim helping the hollow knight down from the stag to the nearby bench. When Ogrim went to grab the sleeping wyrm he was surprised to find him awake.

“Ah, you’re awake! You must have been very tired!” Ogrim commented, offering his uninjured claw to the former king. “Have any good dreams?”

The wyrm felt like he was in a daze but accepted the round knight’s assistance. “Hmm.” He hummed, slowly slithering to the tall knight on the (very small) bench, opting to stand by their side for the moment until they fully regained their senses.

They subconsciously grabbed onto their cloak as Ogrim’s playful question finally resonated with them, though for some reason it left a bitter taste in their mouth. “A dream…?” He tried to remember what he dreamt about, but nothing resurfaced. “If I did, I certainly don’t remember it.”

Ogrim laughed it off. “Don’t worry, I’m sure it was nothing then.”

The hollow knight patted the wyrm’s crown in assurance. The wyrm felt flustered when the taller knight started petting him, making him feel like he was being babied, but nonetheless accepted the kind gesture, albeit in gruff silence.

Remembering what took place, before he fell asleep on the stag, he turned to look up at the tall knight, which made them stop petting him. They shared a glance. The pale king looked up at them as the hollow knight cocked their head to the side in question as the king felt overwhelmed and quickly looked away.

“W-we should get to the hot springs as soon as we can.” The pale king squeaked as he hurriedly slithered past the confused hollow knight and towards the exit. “Allow me to continue being the lookout.”

Sensing the trepidation from the king, Ogrim laughed and softly agreed, winking at the hollow knight—which only caused them to be even more confused.

While the knights prepared themselves, the pale wyrm walked out into the crossroads and glanced around, noting how very ‘blue’ the caverns were compared to the stark grey of the old basin they were at previously.

He walked to the edge of the platform and browsed around, searching for signs of possible danger when a flash of red cruised by him, a little too close. It happened so fast that he stumbled backwards and fell on his bottom.

Furious, he instinctively shouted. “Hey! Watch where you’re going!”

The red figure stopped mid-flight and landed against one of the platform’s sides. The figure, kind of resembling the hollow knight, gawked at the pale wyrm in stunned silence. The two locked eyes, both of their gazes stern yet confused.

However, as quick as his anger came, it was diminished, and he was left feeling anxious from the strange bug staring at him. “I-I mean, just…be careful.” He muttered as he broke eye contact.

Without warning, the red bug hopped the platforms at a lightning speed before landing directly in front of the wyrm, causing him to stumble backwards again as the bug brandished a needle.

The expression on their face changed greatly, from stunned shock to malicious intent as her gaze bore into his. The pale wyrm flinched from the sudden mood change.

Then she started charging.

The pale wyrm yelled, holding out his hands as if to block the attack.

The bug stopped in her tracks.

The wyrm spared a glance at the intruder who was surprised to see her staring at him in shock again. Maybe the bug noticed the knights behind him? But when he turned his head to look behind him, the knights were still not there. How long does it take to leave the room?

He turned back to the confused (and maybe malicious) bug who has now lowered their needle, a look of distraught and confusion masking her face.

“What in the world is…” She muttered.

Shaking her head, as if to clear her conscious from ridiculous ideas, she pointed her needle to the pale wyrm again, but didn’t move this time. She glared at him, as if she had a bone to pick with him.

His gut churned as he realized that this might be another bug that ‘knows him’ that he doesn’t remember, or something along those lines. He still wasn’t too sure himself.

“You…I thought you left.” She spat, her words filled with venom.

As a last-ditch effort to make sure he was the one she was talking to (and not some imaginary bug), he raiseed his brows and points to himself in question.

“Yes you!” Hornet yelled. “How can you not-“

Her eyes widened and her gaze was now fixed on something past the wyrm. The wyrm turned to find both knights finally making their appearance from the station.

“Sorry about the wait, we- Oh.” Ogrim stopped himself once he realized someone was pointing a weapon at the former king. Ogrim was about to move into action when he realized who it was. The hollow knight, however, went to immediately rush over to the pale wyrm only for Ogrim to stop them. “Woah, easy. You are no shape to make sudden moves right now, let me handle this.”

Hornet, ignoring the chatter and the pale wyrm, sheathed her needle and ran over to the very injured hollow knight. She cupped her hands under their mask and placed her head against theirs. “Dammit, I’m so sorry I. This is all my fault, I shouldn’t have-“

The hollow knight pushed their head against Hornet’s in assurance, void tears streaming down their face in relief that she was okay and that she wasn’t mad at them anymore.

They stayed like that for awhile, Ogrim allowing them their brief peace while the pale wyrm watched in helpless confusion.

When the two finally pulled away did Ogrim break the silence, “I’m sorry for interrupting, and I’m sure you would want an explanation for how injured we are princess, but we need to get to the nearby hot spring as soon as possible.”

Hornet nodded, though not without sparing a glare at the confused former king. “Agreed, I would really like an explanation for all of this.”

The pale wyrm winced, begrudgingly holding his hands up in surrender. “As long as this one does not skewer me, I’m fine with the arrangement.”

Hornet paused to share a bewildered look with the wyrm before shaking her head once more and settling by her siblings’ that wasn’t occupied.

With that, the group traveled collectively towards the hot spring.

Chapter Text

The shade lord stroked their child’s head softly as the little one curled into themselves in their arms, not wanting to leave their parent’s side just yet after the scare they experienced. His purrs and nya’s were soothing to the Ghost of Hallownest, so much that he was starting to put them to sleep. As much as they wanted to, they didn’t want to sleep just yet; they still wanted to savor this moment for as long as they could.

They don’t remember experiencing such a peaceful setting, where so many bugs were present and calm and…not shambling bodies puppeteered by the Radiance. Everyone is either sleeping or socializing with others, it’s almost like Dirtmouth in here. Ghost couldn’t help but smile to themselves.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Myla asked as she watched the godseeker rub the void out of her eyes.

“Yes,” She waved off, “the void can be quite the tricky substance, but as long as the god of gods is in control it will not harm me.”

“Oho ho ho, dangerous, maybe not. Infectious, yes.” The snail shaman commented, tapping their staff. “Though, there have been worse things to be infected of.” The godseeker gave him an irritated look at the idea that the shade lord was some kind of pestilence rather than an authority, but the shaman waved her off with his staff.  “Even so, as much as I would like to stay and continue to chat, I must return to my mound. It will not protect itself.”

“Aww.” Myla whined.

“Don’t fret little one,” he patted the miner bug’s head, “You are always welcome to visit my home. We can catch up anytime.”

“Promise?”

“Oho ho ho, I promise.” The shaman chuckled as he waved goodbye to the little one and the others in the spring before taking his leave.

“Quite an interesting bug.” The godseeker mumbled as she sat against the wall of the room.

Myla looked down at the floor in thought wondering what to do next. She figured she should go back home to Dirtmouth and get some rest, considering she’s been out of the house for…well, who knows how long? As much as she liked to stay and keep the other bugs company, even she had her limits.

“I gotta go home too!” She declared suddenly, catching the golden bug off guard. “I-I gotta get my beauty sleep, but we can hang out and play some more tomorrow if you want! I live in Dirtmouth above us.”

Grimmchild perked his head at the mention of “playing” and immediately nya’d in response. Ghost, too, liked the idea of playing—although how they’re going to figure that out with their body without causing any more trouble will be a whole new issue to tackle.

“Bye everyone!” Myla shouted, waving enthusiastically before skipping out of the room.

“NYA!” Grimmchild shouted back, waving his wing before tucking it back underneath him.

The shade lord also gave a small wave until the little pill bug’s form skipped out of sight. Now it was just them, Grimmchild, the godseeker, and Quirrel.

Wait.

Wasn’t Lemm supposed to be here too?

The shade lord straightened their back and immediately did a once-over in the room, to only just now realize Lemm has been absent. Ghost’s sudden movement startled the Grimmchild for a moment before cozying itself up again.

Godseeker noticed and straightened her back as well. “My shade lord, is there something wrong?”

Ghost hesitated, wondering how to explain their concerns to the godseeker. They decided on describing Lemm’s prominent features through hand gestures; the hair flick, the long beard, their slightly hunched posture, their constant “I’m-too-tired-for-this-crap” face…

“A-are you referring to that,” Her faced cringed, “that arrogant, former shop owner?”

Ghost nodded, cocking their head to the side in question.

She huffed and crossed her arms. “He left. He and the prophet had an argument, and it became very heated; then he stormed out.” She sighed. “Good riddance, honestly, I did not like how he slandered your name.”

Ghost gave her a bewildered look. When did this happen? Was the negative feeling he sensed from Quirrel surface because of this?

…Wait, what did he say about them? Now they’re a little curious.

They shook their head, now wasn’t the time to be hung up on what Lemm said about them, they should be more worried about where Lemm went, and if he would be alright. Quirrel seems fine now, whatever happened, and if there is an issue Ghost would be here to help him.

“If you’re wondering where he went, I have no clue. Even so, I believe it’s better that he is gone. He wouldn’t stop complaining about how his life was in shambles, and how his “precious” shop and all of his relics were destroyed and-“ Godseeker stopped herself. Realizing her error, she turned away to gaze at the very interesting entranceway, avoiding the sullen gaze of her master as her slip-up finally registered to them.

“H-he was a damper on your magnificence.” She muttered quietly. “It is better this way.”

The shade lord lowered their head until it rested gently just above Grimmchild’s. They knew they messed things up when they destroyed Lemm’s shop and home, but they never realized how significant of a mess-up it was until now. They destroyed his life’s work, after all, and he wasn’t a young bug anymore. Who knows how long he lived there, gathering relics and knowledge of the kingdom over years of study and careful excavation?

And now it’s gone, along with much of the original city of tears. They were happy to, somehow, rebuild it, but who’s to say how much more of the city’s treasured relics and memories he wiped from existence?

It seems like every time Ghost tries to move on and do better, something has to remind them of how devastating their past actions were.

They hated this. They hated being so big. They hated having all this power. They hated feeling!

Sometimes they wish they were just a hollow construct again.

When their gaze fell back onto the room again, they were startled to see the godseeker kneeling a few feet away from them, their forehead firmly planted onto the ground.

“Forgive me my shade lord,” she muttered, “I didn’t mean to share such negative incentives to you, nor I did I mean to dishearten you or your past actions.”

Now this is familiar, the shade lord chided himself as he looked at the godseeker with reluctant acceptance. It has been a while since she tried flaunting her high influence and pray to the gods for forgiveness and submission, right? The only thing missing was her annoying humming.

The shade lord sighed and removed one of their hands that was cradling the Grimmchild to pat the godseeker’s head in acceptance of her (dramatic) apology.

She slowly lifted her head and looked up at them in reverence. “You are a merciful god of gods.”

Ghost withheld a cringed as they lightly patted the top of the godseeker’s head.

That was one thing he actually liked about being bigger now; being able to pet everyone’s heads, especially the bigger bugs like godseeker. No one can escape their pets. Not anymore. Ghost couldn’t help but smile at this thought as they continued to pet godseeker’s head.

A flash of red out of the corner of their eyes, however, brought Ghost out of their thoughts. They stopped petting and the godseeker turned to look where the shade lord was looking, and her shoulders hitched in surprise.

The daughter of Hallownest appeared in the archway, landing graciously onto the ground from a higher point by her needle no doubt.

The two watched in quiet shock, as she held her needle close to her side and walked further into the room. Her head panned the room, possibly surveying the area since she was last here, and when her gaze locked with that of both of the bugs watching her did she finally stop in her tracks.

Frozen mid-step, Hornet stared at the two bugs staring back at her, eyes wide. She clenched her hands tighter around her needle as she continued to study the bugs she had never seen before, particularly the larger one that appeared to be naturally absorbing all the light in the room by how dark it looked.

Unexpectedly, the dark figure raised its free claw, causing Hornet flinch and step back into a defensive stance. She raised her needle, expecting the long wyrm-like creature to advance and pounce on her and…waved at her?

She gave the thing a questioning look, until her attention was brought to the golden bug who started…humming?

Hornet lowered her needle as she glowered at the two bugs in confusion.

She’s seen some weird things before, but…this takes the cake…

“Oh, we are finally here!”

The three bugs shift their attention to the archway as three figures slowly appeared, the middle one being the tallest while one was very round and the other was…comically small compared to the two, doing their best to help carry the middle one—who seems to be the most injured.

It wasn’t until their forms entered the light did godseeker and Ghost get a good look at them.

When they did, Ghost dropped their claw and the godseeker fell silent.

“Oho, yes. Now we can properly clean ourselves and start the…healing…process…” Ogrim’s voice fell as he finally noticed the familiar wyrm staring back him with wide, glowing eyes.

Noticing this, the hollow knight lifted their head to see what caused Ogrim’s relief to die away when they suddenly stiffened at the sight as well.

The atmosphere was thick as the bugs stared at each other. Ghost’s eyes couldn’t help but constantly shift between the bugs as they tried to take in the overwhelming stimulation they were feeling. So many faces at once, so many they haven’t seen in while, especially…especially…

…the one in the middle.

But for some reason…

Once they finally noticed the small one…

Did they feel the void churn.

The wyrm spoke. “What’s going on? I-I thought we were going to put the Hollow Knight in the spring so they can-“

“Don’t move.” Ogrim hushed, as he slowly lowered the Hollow Knight onto the ground without breaking eye contact with the black wyrm. The pale wyrm nervously followed suit and watched as Ogrim stood in front of them. “Let me do the talking.”

“Wait what-“

“Do you know these bugs?” Hornet whispered. Her grip on her needle tightened.

Ogrim nodded but refrained from acknowledging her. Instead, he took a step forward and held his claw in surrender. “We are not here to hurt you.”

Ogrim’s voice snapped Ghost out of their trance, and they stared at him in confusion. Their non-existent stomach turned when they finally noticed one of Ogrim’s claws sway numbly to the side, along with the coated blood and armor shards that covered the entirety of the Dung Defender. And the look in his eyes…he looked so scared.

What the hell happened to him?

“Please,” He pleaded, “what happened at the City of Tears was a misunderstanding.” He gestured to the hollow knight who was having issues keeping their head up, trying their hardest to keep their eyes open in case they needed to defend everyone from the aggressive wyrm. “My friend thought you were going to hurt someone; they didn’t mean anything by it.”

Hornet shifted closer to the Hollow Knight and the pale wyrm, her needle still at the ready. She leaned her head towards the wyrm. “What happened between these bugs?”

The wyrm shook his head in disbelief. “I have no clue. I wasn’t with them when they encountered them.” His eyes darkened as he focused on Ogrim’s mannerisms. “But if I had to guess…then…”

Hornet nodded her head, now understanding the gravity of the situation. Hornet watched the black wyrm, studying the wyrms movements and body language for any hints of hostility or aggression. But it seemed to be…just as confused and horrified of the other bugs.

Hornet gulped.

Something didn’t seem right.

Chapter Text

The air grew thick with tension as both sides watched each other closely, the sound of godseeker’s humming the only thing driving away the silence. The back of Ghost’s mind was burning as if something was trying to reach the forefront, something important. But they couldn’t figure out what.

Grimmchild’s scarlet eyes were watching the newcomers curiously now, the noise from earlier grabbing his full attention. It wasn’t until Grimmchild noticed the wounded Dung Defender did he fly out of Ghost’s grasp. Startled, Ghost instinctively went to grab the child but decided against it at the last second.

Warily, Ghost watched as Grimmchild circled around Ogrim before landing on his uninjured shoulder.

Ogrim was baffled by the sudden welcome from the flying child but did nothing except give him a small smile, keeping at least one eye on the black wyrm in the room. “Oh, it has been a while, my friend, I’m glad to see you’re okay.”

Grimmchild smiled a toothy smile. “Nya!”

Hornet, on the other hand, watched the exchange with an annoyed grimace, whilst the wyrm and the hollow knight only watched in wary confusion. Quirrel was the only one still unaware of the situation, sleep keeping a steady hold on him.

Not a moment later, the hollow knight appeared to have suddenly realized something as Ogrim’s words finally registered in them. With as much strength as they could pull, they lifted their head up and stared out at the end of the room where the black wyrm and the other familiar bug resided. The eyes that stared back—the familiarity, the horror, the guilt—gave their body a surge of adrenaline and, before anyone was aware, they toppled forward and hurriedly limped past Ogrim and Grimmchild.

Hornet followed quickly after while the pale wyrm and Ogrim hesitated. The hollow knight collapsed onto their knees, short of the spring’s edge. In reaction to this, the black wyrm suddenly lurched forward, mindful of the occupant that lied next to them, almost as if they were trying to catch the injured knight before they fell.

Hornet’s needle was ready, the silk dancing alongside her as she was ready to throw it at the black creature only a few feet from her injured sibling. Ogrim and the pale wyrm shouted for her but she ignored them. Aiming the shot between the eyes, she pulled her arm back and then she-

“I’m…s-sorry.”

Hornet froze, her needle still poised but her body stiff and awkward as she forced her momentum to stop midway.

The hollow knight’s head was angled against the ground, their breaths labored and their shell shaking, another rough cry escaped them. “I’m…sorry…for hurting…you. Both of…you.” Their words felt like sandpaper was being scraped against the air, yet they still continued to murmur the words over and over again.

The hollow knight knew better; they were trained to protect Hallownest, not to slay innocent bugs that had no intention of harm, intimidating appearance or not. Yet they still failed, just as they had with the sealing of the Radiance.

Between getting injured and realizing their father was not dead, the unforgivable act was shoved to the back of their underserved mind. Now, their victims are before them once again, and the hollow knight must make amends, damaged or not.

The black wyrm stared at them, perplexed by the sudden pleas of the injured knight in front of them. The knight’s body, the statue in the City of the Tears, Ghost remembers what they had originally come here for. This was no doubt the hollow knight, their sibling.

The burning feeling they felt when they first noticed the group suddenly surged to the forefront of their mind. Back in the City of Tears, when they brought back Quirrel’s nail, they were stabbed from the back. Then Quirrel charged them, and they attacked back. That’s right, the hollow knight did that, and then Ghost…

Ghost felt their throat tighten as a new heaviness sank into their chest. They remember now.

That’s how the City of Tears began to collapse.

Their rage caused that destruction.

They almost killed Ogrim and their sibling; how both of them survived, Ghost didn’t know but it must have taken a miracle, nonetheless.

A miracle they were grateful for, fore they don’t think they could ever forgive themselves for having such a violent reaction.

Ghost looked at them—really looked at them for the first time since the abyss—and did not feel any rage, only sorrow. Their sibling was badly injured, even back in the bathhouse they were very wounded. Having them attack out of nowhere makes no sense, they had to have a good reason for that.

“Please…my friend thought you were going to hurt someone…!”

They did, and Ghost doesn’t blame them for that. 

The black wyrm loomed over the hollow knight. It grabbed at the hollow knight’s head and raised it above the ground. Void streamed down the knight’s face as they stared back at the bug they had stabbed before. Another pair of the black wyrm’s arms grabbed at the hollow knight’s shoulders.

Hornet, Ogrim, and the pale wyrm gasped. Hornet recomposed herself and quickly threw her nail at the black wyrm.

Ogrim yelled. “Princess no!”

The black wyrm looked up and, using one of the claws holding their sibling’s head up, instinctively snatched the needle mid-flight. The group was stunned. Ghost eyed the needle before turning their attention towards their sister, their astonishment quickly turning into a mild form of irritation and disappointment.

Irritated herself, Hornet immediately tried to retract her nail with her silk, only for the black wyrm to continue holding onto the needle with an iron grip. The black wyrm shook its head, its mannerism reminiscent of a tired parent scolding an energetic toddler. Hornet scowled, but the black creature remained undeterred. Hornet was about to rush in with her silk when her gaze fell on her sibling. The hollow knight turned their head enough so they could look at their sister. They slowly shook their head, void still pouring from their eyes. Hornet halted her attempt, her body suddenly becoming very heavy, and begrudgingly let the silk attached to her needle fall from her lead-filled hands.

The black wyrm looked at Hornet before shifting their gaze to Ogrim and the pale wyrm.

The pale wyrm…no, Ghost isn’t going to focus on that right now. Their sibling is injured, and so is Ogrim; that takes priority. They can’t afford to focus on anything else right now.

Knowing that they (probably) weren’t going to be attacked again, they gently placed Hornet’s needle onto the ground and focused back on their sibling. They carefully gripped their sibling’s shoulders and slowly dragged them into the spring water.

The warm water flooded the hollow knight’s senses as they finally felt their weight and their pain ebb away, consciousness waning as the euphoria took hold of them. The black wyrm carefully maneuvered the limp knight against the edge of the spring in a similar fashion to Quirrel, hoping that this would prevent them from falling under the water.

Ogrim watched, completely baffled by the black wyrm’s care for the knight who stabbed them for the wrong reasons. He was expecting them to become enraged again—best case scenario, refusing them the spring they were currently occupying perhaps—yet here they treated the hollow knight like an injured friend in dire need of help.

Ghost lowered themselves in front of the half-lucid knight and gently pressed their forehead against their sibling’s together. Siblingsibling Itsokay You’reokay I’mokay

The sudden connection felt like cold water being splashed against their face. The hollow knight tensed, staring at the black wyrm in befuddlement. What “What…?”

The black wyrm gently patted the hollow knight, urging it back into a relaxed position to heal properly. The hollow knight complied, albeit with hesitation, and laid back against the rim of the spring. Their eyes continued to watch the black wyrm as it ‘stood’ back up to look towards the group.

When the four pairs of eyes landed on Ogrim, he winced. Those eyes, he remembered those eyes being full of rage; eight spotlights blazing down on him and the unconscious hollow knight. Frozen, defenseless, unable to move a muscle let alone speak a single word.

No! He can’t be afraid now! Even when he is no longer the white defender, no longer fit to properly fight with how injured he was, he is still the dung defender. He can’t lose composure, not again! Not when the princess and the king are here as well.

Ogrim looked directly back at the black wyrm, feeling a newfound fire burn in his chest. Despite this, his body was unable to remain unshaken from the heavy gaze that bore into him. So focused was he that he didn’t notice the black wyrm extending one of its claws towards him, their palm upward in a welcoming gesture, for a full minute.

Ogrim hesitated, unsure if he should stay on guard or accept the help from the former foe before them.

A sudden push from behind caused Ogrim to stumble closer to the spring. He turned to find Grimmchild hovering behind him, an encouraging (and mischievous) smile on its face. Ogrim blinked. That’s right, the child was there too, he saw what the black wyrm did. If Grimmchild believes Ogrim will be fine, surely, he could trust in his companion’s companion?

Ogrim looked back at the black wyrm, their claw still raised towards him. Ogrim felt another, gentler nudge from behind again, this time with several affirmative nyas. He sighed. He was finally convinced.

Turning back to the black wyrm, he slowly walked and accepted the claw. He lowered his head in apology. “I’m, I’m sorry for my inaction. I failed to protect you and your friend.”

Ghost softly squeezed Ogrim’s claw in response. There were no hard feelings. In fact, they were just as apologetic, if not more for how they reacted. They grabbed Ogrim’s uninjured shoulder and softly squeezed it as well to indicate that.

Ogrim looked up at them and smiled. “Thank you.”

Ghost helped Ogrim into the spring, careful of their sibling and Quirrel, and laid the dung beetle beside the hollow knight.

Hornet sighed, still uncertain if she should be relieved or cautious still. She looked at her needle several feet away and then at the black wyrm helping the occupants in the spring. For the most part, it appears the creature is not malicious. For now.

Hornet meticulously walked to her needle and reabsorbed the silk attached to it. The black wyrm eyed her for a moment but it didn’t do or say anything else. She turned around only to be face to face with a nervous pale wyrm, almost headbutting him in the process.

“What are you doing?” Hornet huffed.

The pale wyrm slithered beside her and pointed at the big, golden bug staring at them; no, him. The bug still made the odd humming sound ever since they walked into the room. Hornet looked between the former king and the golden bug.

“She’s been staring at me, and she won’t stop humming.” The pale wyrm harshly whispered, very disturbed by the strange bugs’ mannerisms.

Hornet agreed the golden bug gave off an uncomfortable aura, but not a dangerous one. The bug was too big to properly move around in combat, let alone use a weapon. The only danger Hornet sees would be if you were too close and the bug fell on top of you; you would be crushed, but other than that she didn’t pose a threat.

“Ignore her,” Hornet said, sheathing her needle. She turned back to the pale wyrm, as the cogs spun in her head. Now that the knights were being properly treated in the spring, it was just her and her father in the group. Granted, the weird bug and the Grimmchild were still in the vicinity, but with the Grimmchild hovering over by the black wyrm and the golden bug…standing there, she figured now would be a good time as any to spend some ‘quality time with her father.’

She turned and looked at him. Noticing the movement out of the corner of his eye, the pale wyrm turned and looked back at her.

“W-what?” He asked.

Before the pale wyrm could even react, she grabbed him by the scruff of his torn robe and pulled him towards the nearby bench. “While the two are healing, let’s have a chat.”

“N-no thank you!” The pale wyrm said as he wriggled in her grasp.

“It wasn’t a suggestion.”

The pale wyrm grunted as he was, practically, thrown onto the bench while Hornet casually grabbed the spot beside him. It was a miracle the bench wasn’t thrown aside from the pale wyrm’s momentum and weight, but something told him that she probably had lots of experience doing this.

The hollow knight looked ready to jump out of the water at the sound of their father’s voice, but Ghost was quick to shut that down. Ogrim was too lost in the euphoria of the spring’s water to notice.

Godseeker finally stopped humming, but she refused to look away from the pale wyrm. His light still shone brightly, a beacon to all who are attuned to it. But, seeing it up close now, she could tell this was no longer the original pale light she sensed when she first came here. No, it was heavily transfigured, giving off a much darker hue and a noticeable sense of emptiness that once gave others free will.

It appears the void made itself another home in the body of the former king; a thought she’s sure would please her shade lord.