Downtown – 03:47 Hours
The streets were a warzone.
Aaron, Father Matthias, and Echo Team moved through the chaos, guns blazing, knives cutting, and prayers whispered between screams. The civilians had long been evacuated, leaving behind only shadows and the monstrous things that had once been people.
The Hollowed Ones were unstoppable in their hunger. Their skin cracked and blackened, eyes void of all but endless night, their movements unnatural and erratic. But despite their ferocity, Aaron and the team held the line, their firepower keeping the creatures at bay.
Caldwell, the leader of Echo Team, barked orders into his radio. "We need heavier weapons! This isn't working!"
A demon lunged at him from the side, its hollowed face stretching into an impossible grin. Aaron spun, firing three rounds into its chest, but the thing didn't fall—not until Father Matthias crushed its skull with a swing of his iron rod, holy symbols burning into its rotting flesh.
Then—everything changed.
The air grew thick—like breathing through drowning lungs.
A pressure settled upon them. A weight. An unseen presence that made their skin crawl.
Aaron felt his stomach drop.
Something was coming.
Something bigger.
The soldiers stopped shooting. The demons stopped lunging. Even the Hollowed Ones froze, their heads tilting toward the sky, as if listening.
Then, from the smoke-choked darkness of the city streets—it appeared.
A figure, towering, cloaked in shadow, its face an abyss deeper than the void itself. Its mere presence swallowed sound, the wind, even the light. The other demons knelt as it approached, trembling in reverence, as if the king had finally arrived.
Aaron tried to steady his shaking hands. "Oh... my God."
The Hollow One had come.
It didn't move fast. It glided. Silent. Wrong.
Then, it spoke.
A voice like cracking bones and dying screams scraped through the night.
The Hollowed ones lurking in the distance shuddered, as if empowered by the mere utterance of their master. Aaron clenched his jaw, gripping his rifle so tightly his knuckles went white.
"Light it up!" Caldwell roared.
Gunfire erupted as the team unloaded everything they had on the Hollow One. Bullets tore through its shifting form, but it was like shooting through mist—nothing landed, nothing hurt it.
And then, it moved.
Not walked. Not ran.
One moment, it was standing in the center of the street. The next, it was behind them.
The first soldier didn't even have time to scream before his body imploded, flesh sucked into nothingness like he had never existed. The second was lifted into the air, his limbs twisting unnaturally as his hollowed eyes turned toward the others—right before his body burst apart in a spray of black mist.
"Fall back!" Matthias shouted. "We can't fight it like this!"
Aaron fired wildly, backing away, watching as the Hollow One absorbed the bullets into its body like they were never fired. He felt the weight of its gaze settle on him, pressing into his mind, whispering something only he could hear.
"Run."
And for the first time since entering this nightmare, Aaron obeyed.
They had to find another way. They had to end this—before there was nothing left to save.
The streets were drenched in blood and chaos, the night thick with the scent of gunpowder and burning flesh. The city, once a beacon of civilization, had become a battleground where the living fought against the consuming void.
Aaron ran, his boots pounding against the asphalt as his mind reeled from what they had just encountered. The Hollow One wasn't just a creature—it was something beyond death itself, a force that existed outside of time, beyond reason. It hadn't just killed those soldiers; it had erased them. Like they had never even existed.
Matthias was beside him, gripping his cross so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. Caldwell and Echo Team were right behind them, panting, cursing, reloading their weapons even though deep down, they knew bullets meant nothing against that thing.
They turned a corner and ducked into an alleyway, pressing themselves against the damp brick walls, their hearts pounding.
Caldwell slammed his hand against his radio. "Command, this is Echo-One! We have an Omega-level threat in the city! Repeat—Omega-level! Civilians need immediate evacuation! I need an airstrike on my position NOW!"
The radio crackled with static, then a distorted voice responded. "Negative, Echo-One. City-wide interference is blocking satellite targeting. You need to provide coordinates manually. What the hell are you dealing with?"
Caldwell's eyes were wide, the reality of the situation sinking in. "Something that shouldn't exist."
Then—
A sound.
Not a scream. Not a howl.
But laughter.
Aaron's blood ran cold. The Hollow One was mocking them.
The deep, guttural voice echoed through the streets, not coming from a singular point but from everywhere at once, as if the darkness itself had become sentient.
"Run."
Matthias clenched his teeth, stepping forward, gripping his iron rod in one hand and his cross in the other. "You cannot have this city!" he yelled into the night.
The laughter stopped.
Then, the shadows moved.
The Hollow One descended upon them.
It came as a wave of black mist, tendrils of living darkness slithering toward them with impossible speed. The streetlights flickered and died, the very air turning ice-cold.
"MOVE!" Caldwell barked.
They sprinted out of the alley, but the city itself had changed.
Buildings had become distorted, their angles unnatural, their windows like hollow eyes staring at them. The streets stretched longer than they should have, twisting in ways that defied logic.
Matthias gasped, realization dawning. "It's not just here. It's bending reality around us!"
Aaron skidded to a stop. "You mean this thing can control the city?!"
Matthias shook his head. "Not the city. It controls perception. It's warping our minds! If we don't find a way out now, we'll never leave!"
Caldwell grit his teeth. "We have to get to high ground, somewhere we can signal for an airstrike manually."
A loud, distorted screech tore through the streets. The Hollowed were coming.
Dozens of them.
They spilled from alleyways, crawled out of shattered windows, some dragging themselves on broken limbs, others moving with unnatural speed. Their hollow eyes were locked onto one target—them.
Caldwell aimed his rifle. "Hold the line!"
Gunfire erupted, bullets tearing through the Hollowed. But no matter how many fell, more kept coming.
Matthias raised his cross, chanting in Latin, trying to hold back the darkness that crawled toward them. His voice was steady, commanding. "Begone, creatures of the abyss! You have no dominion here!"
For a brief moment, the Hollowed hesitated. The ones closest to him convulsed, their bodies flickering like broken images, as if reality itself was rejecting them.
Aaron took the chance and emptied a full clip into the horde, dropping five, six, seven of them—but more replaced them instantly.
They had to move.
Caldwell pointed to a half-destroyed hotel in the distance as others rampled the dead soldier's ammunitions to replenish their owns."There! We make our stand on the rooftop!"
They ran after grabbing whatever weapons they could get.
The Hollowed pursued.