Tendril-like shadows poured out from the gnarled roots of the pale white tree, curling along the stone. They wrapped around the beast like armor forged of darkness before seeping into it. A tendril slid through its left eye like a needle. Another threaded through its barely open maw.
Eva quickly rose to her feet. "Ren…"
The wolf rose gradually, its back arching as if something inside it had been jolted awake. Blood fell from the wolf's jaws in thick ropes, oozing between yellowed teeth.
Eva stepped back, her hand flying to her mouth. "What's happening?!"
"The tree…" Ren's voice was quiet—strained.
And then—
Its head jerked up.
SNAP
The neck cracked in the wrong direction first, then snapped back into place, aligned with force. The wolf's jaw unhinged wider—far past anything natural. Blood spilled freely now, leaking from its empty eyes, black fluid mixing along with crimson. A grotesque mimicry of tears.
Ren stood rigid, fists clenched, as a voice filled the chamber.
It wasn't loud. It wasn't the tree. It wasn't the wolf.
It came from inside them.
'You ruin everything you touch.'
Eva staggered at the voice.
'I gave this poor soul peace, and you…' A pause. 'It was you who stole it. I smothered its torment. Made it forget. Cleansed suffering…And you—yes, it's you who reminded it of pain.'
Ren watched ahead, as the roots twitched—shifting into the faint outline of her.
The Mother, tall and veiled.
Behind her blackened figure, the beast's legs shuddered beneath it as its frame stabilized.
Her voice coiled into them again.
'Oh, Hollow.'
"What did you call me?" Ren questioned.
'That is what you are,' She replied calmly. 'A vessel cracked too many times to hold anything inside.' The silhouette drifted a fraction closer. 'You keep pretending you feel—but you don't.'
Eva looked at Ren, his eyes widening at The Mother's words.
She could no longer hear the voice. Yet, she knew it was still speaking to him.
"Ren," Eva pleaded, panic threading her voice. "Don't fall for it. Remember why we came here."
'You imitate pain…love…rage,' Mother continued. 'Habitual echoes flickering through what little remains of you. You've died too many times. Bled too much blood. You no longer know what it means to be human.'
Behind her, the beast hunched low to the floor, waiting to strike.
'You feel the emptiness, don't you?' Mother whispered. 'The blur. You walk through this forest like a soul that hasn't realized it no longer has a form...'
"I'm alive…" Ren muttered.
'Hmm…Empty words." She tilted her head, and though her face was unseen, he could feel her smile. "What good is it to lie to oneself?"
Behind her, the wolf took a shuddering step forward, claws breaking stone.
Its claws scraped against stone.
Eva gripped Ren's sleeve, her voice catching. "We have to go."
'She's your tether,' Mother said, lifting a shadowed arm to point at Eva. 'But even that will fray. Eventually, she'll look at you and see exactly what I see…A shell pretending to hold a soul.'
"Ren—" Eva pleaded.
His fingers twitched toward his hip.
Nothing, only the ghost of instinct—betrayed by the absence of steel.
'Hollow,' Mother repeated, savoring it like a long-forgotten name. 'A vessel with nothing inside. You no longer exist. You don't belong to yourself anymore.'
And then—
The wolf stepped through her, the shadowed form dissolving.
"You belong to me," Mother whispered—before vanishing entirely.
The beast stared them down, black tears weeping from empty eyes, lips flayed and twitching.
'Hollow?' Ren thought. 'I'm still…alive?'
Eva took Ren's hand and pulled, forcing him back to reality.
The stairway was ahead—only a dozen steps and a turn away.
Claws cracked against the stone behind them. Snarls echoed off the walls. That impossible weight slammed into the ground again and again like war drums—louder, faster, all so closer.
They were almost there. Just a few steps more.
Ren glanced over his shoulder. The beast was closing the distance far too quickly.
'We're not gonna make it…' Ren thought.
A roar tore through the chamber—low, deafening—as it leapt.
In one motion, Ren turned and shoved Eva forward, sending her toward the stairway entrance.
"Ren!" Eva pleaded.
Then came the blow.
CRACK
A swipe of pure force—shadow-wrapped claws tearing across his ribs like a reaper's hand.
Pain exploded down his side. His feet left the ground as he slammed into the wall, a gasp ripping from his throat. Blood sprayed out from his mouth. He collapsed in dead weight.
Through blurred vision, Ren saw Eva standing at the stairway entrance. Ink-like tears streaked down her cheeks. Her hands trembled at her sides—white-knuckled. She was torn at the idea.
To stay or to run…
Ren knew that look. He'd worn it before. And he wouldn't let her make the mistakes he did.
Ren planted his bloodied right palm against the stone and forced himself upright. His left arm hung limp at his side. The wolf stood between him and the stairway now—zombified, waiting.
"No more…" He muttered, then louder through a ragged breath. "Eva—go…"
She shook her head, stepping down a stair. "I'm not leaving you."
"I'm not—" Ren coughed up blood, "—asking. Please…just go!"
Hesitant, she stepped back up the stairs. Her fingers curled tight into her palms, trembling as she finally turned and fled. His chest heaved. He coughed—violent, raw. Blood splattered thickly against the stone. Groaning through clenched teeth, he looked toward the exit once more.
She was gone. But her image lingered—she was crying for him.
A small, broken smile pulled at his lips. "She cried for me…" He whispered, voice hoarse.
As if that truth—that single proof—outweighed the pain.
He turned back toward the beast, dragging himself forward. Blood smeared behind him in a dark trail. His left arm hung useless. His legs shook. But he moved. Because he was still alive now.