The light didn't burn.
It drowned.
Auron felt himself pulled down, not through space, but through memory. Not his own—but someone else's. Maybe… something else's.
He saw glimpses.
A crown of bone handed to a kneeling figure.
A city that floated above the clouds, now broken and bleeding shadow.
Screaming priests kneeling before a masked monarch.
A mirror cracking as a child with silver eyes shattered its surface.
Each vision struck like a hammer, and yet none of them were his.
Until the last.
He stood in a throne room again—just like the dream.
Only this time, it wasn't empty.
Hundreds of masked figures bowed low, whispering his name.
"All hail the Hollow King."
And he sat upon the throne.
Auron awoke gasping, flat on the stone floor.
Mira stood beside him, sword in hand, pointing at the shadowy figure that had risen from the monolith. But the creature didn't move. It had frozen, mid-step, the mouths across its face slowly closing.
The circle beneath Auron glowed bright white for the first time.
The system returned.
[Root Core Bound]
[Artifact Evolution: Whispering Mask → Mask of the Hollow King]
[New Skill Gained: Hollow Mantle – Cloak in shadow, nullify detection for 15 seconds]
[Corruption Stabilized – Level 50% (Temporarily Suppressed)]
[Title Unlocked: Heir of the Forgotten Line]
Auron stood.
His mask had changed.
What was once plain and gray was now laced with intricate veins of silver. Around the edges, faint markings moved like slow ink. In the center, just above the brow, a single eye symbol pulsed with light.
Mira stared at him.
She took a step back.
"Auron… your face—"
"I know," he said quietly.
He could feel it. Not just the power. But the weight. Like he had picked up a crown forged from memory and regret.
The creature before him moved at last.
But it didn't attack.
It bowed.
"You have remembered enough," it said. "The rest will come in pain."
Auron nodded once.
"Where do I find it?"
"The final shard lies above," the creature said. "With the one who sits upon your stolen throne."
Mira's brows furrowed. "What throne?"
But Auron already knew.
The Kingdom hadn't just turned on him.
They hadn't just buried his bloodline.
They had replaced it.
The real secret of the Abyss wasn't that it grew in the dark.
It was that it could be planted.
And someone had planted it in his place.
They returned to the pit two hours later, silent the whole way.
Guards didn't stop them. The torches didn't flicker. Even the air felt still, like the mine itself was waiting to see what Auron would do next.
Jace found them first.
He rushed up, eyes wide. "Are you okay—?"
He stopped mid-sentence when he saw the mask.
And the crown-shaped marking above Auron's head.
"...What happened down there?"
Auron didn't answer directly.
"Where's the boy?"
"In the lower hall," Jace said. "Still unconscious."
Auron turned to Mira. "Keep him alive. He's connected."
Mira nodded, still watching him carefully. "You look like something stepped out of a story."
"I think I did."
The next morning, the Black Judge summoned everyone to the central court of the pit.
Dozens gathered.
Slaves. Guards. Overseers. Even noble visitors.
The Judge stood atop the observation platform, scroll unraveling beside him in a windless breeze.
"The inspection is over," he announced. "Abyssal energy confirmed. Corruption spread contained."
His blindfolded gaze turned directly toward Auron.
"One entity remains beyond rule. Tainted. Dangerous. Unique."
A pause.
"Step forward."
Auron did.
Mira tensed. Jace moved toward him, but Auron shook his head once.
He stood before the Judge in full view, wearing the new mask.
The crowd murmured.
Gasps. Fear. Awe.
A few even knelt.
The Judge's voice was calm.
"You carry a crown you do not understand."
"I understand enough," Auron said. "And I remember more each day."
The Judge's lips tightened slightly. "And yet you breathe still."
"That should tell you something."
Behind the blindfold, something shimmered.
Then—
The Judge raised one hand.
The scroll beside him tore itself in half.
Gasps erupted around the pit.
Mira's eyes widened. "That's—!"
"The Judgment," Auron finished.
Nullified.
Canceled.
The Judge lowered his hand.
"Your presence is no longer within my reach. You belong to another trial now."
Auron nodded. "The throne above."
The Judge didn't speak again.
He simply turned.
And vanished in a blink of light.
Later, Jace approached Auron at the edge of the forge.
"You're leaving," he said.
"Yes."
"Going where?"
"To take back what was stolen."
Jace lowered his voice. "You're not the same, Auron."
"I'm not meant to be."
"I just hope," Jace said quietly, "you don't forget the people down here."
Auron placed a hand on his shoulder.
"I remember everything now."
He turned.
And looked toward the lift that led back to the surface.
To the kingdom that thought him dead.
To the false king who wore a crown soaked in lies.
To the war that was waiting.
He whispered to the mask.
"Let them feel the Hollow King's breath."
And the pit watched as its lost heir rose from the dark.