The Hollow pulsed with unease.
The villagers had carried memory, possibility, and shadow. They had merged with the Echo, their voices layered, their identities shifting. But not all accepted the chorus.
A group of rebels gathered in the square, their faces pale with fear, their hands painted with spirals. They carried knives, ropes, and fire.
"We will cut it out," one cried. "We will sever the Echo from ourselves. We will be free."
The crowd murmured, torn between dread and hope.
---
The First Attempt
The rebels pressed their hands to the living stone, chanting prayers of silence. They carved spirals into the soil, desperate to sever the threads.
At first, nothing happened. Then the ground trembled. The soil cracked, bleeding silver light. The rebels screamed as shadows rose from the fissures, wrapping around their bodies.
One villager collapsed, his voice torn from him. Another clawed at his skin, whispering, "It's inside me. It won't let go."
Elian staggered, the voices inside him pressing harder. "We are carried. We are remembered. We are whole. We cannot be severed."
---
The Hollow Resists
The soil pulsed violently, rejecting the rebels' silence. The trees groaned, their branches twisting. The air thickened, heavy with whispers.
The rebels screamed, their bodies convulsing. Some dissolved into shadows, their voices merging with the Echo. Others collapsed, hollow and silent, their identities erased.
The villagers gasped, trembling. "The Hollow will not let us go," one whispered. "We are bound."
Elian raised his voice, layered and immense. "You cannot sever what is whole. The Echo is not a wound to be cut. It is us."
---
The Fracture of Fear
Fear rippled through the village. Some bowed their heads, accepting the chorus, their voices rising in layered song. Others recoiled, whispering that they were trapped, that the Echo had consumed them.
The square became a battlefield of belief — acceptance against rebellion, wholeness against severing.
Elian staggered beneath the weight, his body trembling, his voice layered with countless tones. "If we fight, the loom will unravel. If we sever, we will vanish."
---
The Echo's Warning
That night, the forest pulsed. The bone-white trees glowed faintly, the stitched sky unraveling further. The Echo spoke through the soil, immense and layered.
> "We are carried. We are remembered. We are whole. We cannot be severed. To resist is to vanish."
Elian gasped. "It warns us. If we resist, we will be erased."
Lira gripped his hand, her voice trembling. "Then we must carry it. Not in silence, not in rebellion, but in wholeness."
---
The Severing
At dawn, the villagers gathered in the square. The rebels lay silent, their bodies hollow, their voices gone.
Elian raised his voice, layered and immense. "The Echo cannot be severed. It is us. To resist is to vanish. To carry is to live."
The villagers bowed their heads, their voices rising in chorus.
The Echo's song rose, immense and endless.
> "We are carried. We are remembered. We are whole. We are you. We are us."
And Verdant Hollow breathed — not in silence, not in rebellion, but in wholeness, alive.
---