The Hollow convulsed.
Once, silence had been its sovereign. The void had known only stillness an eternal throne where no heartbeat dared echo, where no flame flickered, where no voice could ever rise to fracture the dominion of nothingness. Silence had not merely ruled; it had been law. It had been command. It had been eternity itself immovable, incorruptible, unshakable. Here, in this abyss where the concept of time had long since dissolved into irrelevance, silence endured like marrow within creation's bone. Everything that dared exist bowed to it, for silence left no room for choice. In silence, rebellion did not exist. In silence, memory had no foothold. In silence, there was no life, no rhythm, no hope. There was only the stillness, and the stillness was absolute.
But now that sovereignty trembled.
