The sealed gate loomed before them, towering and ancient, its surface etched with runes that pulsed like fading heartbeats. Chains of glowing silver symbols wrapped across the stone, trembling as if struggling to hold something monstrous at bay.
Low, hollow vibrations rumbled through the chamber floor.
Nyra stepped closer, her silver aura responding instinctively to the runes. The Blood Moon relic inside her chest throbbed painfully, pulling her forward like an unseen tether.
Kael moved beside her instantly.
"You feel it calling you," he said quietly.
"It's not calling," Nyra replied, her voice tight. "It's recognizing me."
Behind them, the warriors stood in tense silence. Even the ancestral spirits hovered at a distance, their forms flickering uneasily as they watched the gate.
Eryndor approached carefully. "The ritual requires the Blood Moon heir to open the prison willingly. The gate will not respond to force."
Nyra nodded slowly.
She raised her hand toward the glowing chains.
The moment her fingers touched the runes, blinding silver and crimson light burst outward. The chains tightened briefly — resisting — before slowly unraveling one by one, dissolving into shimmering particles that floated into the air like dying stars.
The chamber trembled violently.
A deep, ancient voice echoed from beyond the gate.
Blood Moon child…
Nyra's breath caught.
Kael stepped closer, his hand hovering protectively near her shoulder.
Your ancestors feared me… and now they send you…
The gate cracked down its center, ancient stone splitting with a thunderous groan. Cold, suffocating air spilled outward, carrying whispers layered with sorrow, rage, and madness.
Nyra stood firm.
"I am not sent," she said aloud, her voice echoing against the stone. "I came to end what should never have existed."
A low chuckle reverberated from the darkness.
Brave… like the ones who built my throne…
The gate opened slowly, revealing a spiraling descent into a pit of shifting shadow and pale ghost-light. The walls inside pulsed faintly, as if alive with trapped souls pressing against their prison.
Nyra stepped forward.
Kael grabbed her wrist.
"Wait," he said, his voice rough with restraint. "You don't know what it will do to your mind… or your soul."
Nyra turned toward him, her silver eyes glowing softly.
"I know," she admitted. "But if I don't go, it will rise. And then every pack… every wolf… will suffer for our ancestors' mistake."
Kael stared at her, conflict burning fiercely behind his golden gaze. Slowly, he placed his forehead against hers.
"You come back," he whispered.
Nyra closed her eyes briefly, drawing strength from his presence. "I will fight to."
She stepped toward the entrance.
The moment she crossed the threshold, the air grew heavier, pressing against her chest like invisible chains. Whispers flooded her ears — thousands of voices crying out in grief and fury.
Visions struck her mind.
Ancient wolves kneeling before forbidden altars.
Spirits ripped from bodies and bound into shadow.
The birth of the Hollow King through arrogance and desperation.
Nyra staggered but remained standing, her silver aura expanding like a protective shield.
Behind her, Kael growled as he attempted to follow — but invisible force slammed against him, blocking the entrance. Sparks of lunar energy crackled where he touched the barrier.
"Nyra!" he shouted.
She turned back briefly, pain flashing across her face — but determination hardened her expression.
"I have to face this part alone," she said softly.
The entrance sealed partially, shimmering like liquid moonlight between them.
Kael slammed his fist against the invisible barrier, fury and fear colliding inside him. "Then I'll be here when you come back. I'm not leaving."
Nyra nodded once, then turned and descended deeper into the prison.
The spiral path opened into a massive subterranean void where ghostly wolves floated within layers of shadow, their eyes hollow with centuries of suffering. At the center of the abyss pulsed a massive throne of bone-like darkness.
Upon it, a vague shape stirred.
Not fully formed.
Not fully awake.
But watching.
Blood Moon heir… the Hollow King whispered directly into her mind.
Nyra clenched her fists, silver energy crackling along her skin.
"I came to free the innocent… and end you."
The shadowed throne pulsed with slow, deliberate amusement.
Then step closer… and let us begin your trial…
The void trembled.
The imprisoned spirits began to howl.
And the first true confrontation between Nyra and the Hollow King began… not with claws or teeth… but with a battle for her soul.