"Before there were kings, before there were gods, there was only the Ash."—Unknown Inscription, Forbidden Hollow
The air was colorless.
Not grey.
Not white.
Colorless.
Lucien stepped forward onto ground that crumbled into fine powder with every motion. No sun lit the sky—just a distant, dry shimmer where clouds tried to exist and failed. His footsteps made no sound.
The realm was dead, yet it hadn't decayed.
[You have entered: ASH DOMAIN // Exile Coordinate: E-0-0][Caution: Environmental Law Structure – Collapsed][Soul Integrity: Drifting – Apply Null Bindings immediately]
Lucien activated his stabilizers. Veyrion pulsed softly in his grip, the only thing that still felt real. His cloak flapped gently, though there was no wind.
He looked up.
Far in the distance, black spires clawed at the air—half-real, singing in pulses only his Hollow Core could feel. The final crown fragment was close. But something was wrong.
He was not alone.
The first ashform rose slowly from the ground—featureless, human-shaped, crawling on six limbs. It didn't attack. It stared.
Then another emerged.
And another.
Within moments, hundreds surrounded him.
[ENTITY TYPE: REMNANT // CLASS: PRE-REALM ECHO][NOTE: These are not living enemies. These are memories of death.]
Lucien raised his blade.
The ashforms didn't move.
Then they opened their mouths—and screamed in unison.
But no sound came out.
Just a blast of emptiness that hit harder than any blade.
Lucien dropped to a knee, coughing blood, vision warping.
"This place is... mourning."
He activated Null Domain.
Everything within ten meters collapsed—forms unraveling like dust in the wind.
But more came.
Endlessly.
From beneath the ashen ground.
From within the broken sky.
"Why do they keep coming?"
Then a voice echoed through him.
Not external. Internal.
Not foreign. His own.
"Because they remember you."
Suddenly, Lucien found himself standing in a throne room.
But not as he was.
As a king.
The same robe. The same broken crown. The same sword—only... cleaner. Untainted.
He sat upon a throne of ashes, and before him, the same ashforms knelt.
Then he heard his voice again—older, colder, regal.
"The world is broken. So I broke it further.""The Choir sang lies. The Realms believed.""So I erased belief."
"I made ash of everything. To build peace from ruin."
Lucien staggered.
This was no memory.
This was a warning.
The vision shattered.
He was back in the wasteland, the ashforms gone. A single figure now stood in the distance—watching.
Clad in silver-black armor made of fractured soulstone, with a helm shaped like a closed eye.
[New Entity Detected: THE WARDEN OF SILENCE][Status: Sovereign Choir Adjudicator // Guardian of Final Fragment]
Lucien approached.
The Warden raised no weapon.
Only a hand.
And the ash around them rose—forming thousands of blades, all hovering in the air.
Lucien whispered, "So that's how it is."
Then he charged.
The duel was soundless.
Each clash of Veyrion against the ash-blades shattered the horizon in silence.
The Warden was not fast—but absolute. His every movement carried the weight of celestial judgment.
Lucien twisted through patterns he didn't know he remembered. He blinked out of sync with time. He bled and rewound and bled again.
[Skill Activated: Hollowblood Surge – Duration 11 seconds][Domain Override: Ashbound Null Radius – Critical Resonance Achieved]
Lucien slammed his blade into the ground.
A shockwave exploded.
The ash twisted backward, and in that space of nothing—he moved.
Veyrion met the Warden's helm.
And cracked it.
Inside… was no face.
Just a burning crown fragment hovering above a hollow cavity.
The Warden dropped to his knees.
Then scattered into silence.
[CROWN FRAGMENT 3/3 ACQUIRED: THE FIRST SILENCE][CROWN COMPLETE – INITIATING ASCENSION PROTOCOL]
Lucien floated.
The air began to hum—distantly, then violently.
The ground ruptured.
The ash rose into the sky and began to spin.
The Crown of the Hollow Realms reformed piece by piece above his head, fusing with his soulframe.
[CROWN OF HOLLOW REALMS – COMPLETE]
"CROWN AUTHORITY LEVEL: SOVEREIGN NULL""You are now a law unto yourself."
Lucien fell to one knee.
His body changed.
Lightless runes etched across his arms. His heartbeat became the rhythm of the world.
He opened his eyes.
Everything could now be undone.
And remade.
Above the realm, in the Sovereign Choir's sanctum, alarms screamed across sung-glass halls.
Lyrenna knelt before the Chanter Lords.
"He's done it," she said.
Vaskharel snarled.
"Then the song ends here."
Back in the Ash Domain, Lucien rose slowly.
He felt… empty.
Whole.
Alone.
Powerful.
Broken.
"No gods left to trust," he whispered. "No kings left to kneel to."
He placed the Crown upon his head.
And walked into the storm.