The second toll rolled through the cavern like thunder, rattling loose stones and dust from the cracked ceiling. Elara clutched Aelric's arm, eyes wide as the fractured hourglass split apart. Shards of glowing glass spun in midair, refusing to fall, suspended in a whirl of golden-black sand that moved as though it were alive.
Night Five had come.
And it hadn't waited for the surface.
---
Aelric staggered forward, the corruption in his arm raging, veins blackening his skin. He clenched his teeth, fighting the urge to drop as waves of whispers clawed at his skull. They weren't the distant murmurs of hollows—these voices were clearer, heavier, like the weight of entire centuries crushing into him.
"Run."
"Kneel."
"Die."
He snarled through the haze. "Shut up!"
Elara pulled him back, her dagger raised though she knew it wouldn't matter. "Aelric, look!"
From the shattered hourglass, the figure emerged. No longer caged in glass, it stepped onto the stone floor. Its body was made of fragments—slivers of mirror, shards of time, bleeding light and shadow at once. Where its face should have been was only shifting emptiness.
Elara's breath caught in her throat. "What is that?"
The figure tilted its fractured head, the sound like grinding stone. Its voice came layered, each word echoing in a thousand tones.
"You broke the seal. The night comes for you first."
---
The chamber warped.
Stone dissolved into darkness, then reformed again—walls flickering between cavern, city streets, empty plains, and places neither of them recognized. Elara felt her stomach twist as if reality itself was being shuffled like cards in a deck.
Aelric barely stayed upright, his corrupted arm glowing violently. "It's dragging us into its night…"
Elara tightened her grip on her dagger, whispering, "Then we fight our way out."
---
The first hollow appeared, clawing its way out of the flickering ground. Its form wasn't like the others—it shifted constantly, faces and limbs warping with each second, as though it didn't belong to a single moment in time.
Elara lunged before it could finish forming. Her dagger sank deep, the blade flaring as it cut across its unstable body. The creature shrieked, dissolving into dust that hung in the air like glowing ash.
Another rose behind her, but Aelric was already moving. He swung his pipe, the corrupted arm surging, tendrils lashing out to smash the hollow back into the shifting ground.
But for each one that fell, two more appeared.
The cavern was no longer a cavern. One moment it was a broken street, lanterns flickering on shattered posts. The next, it was a forest of twisted trees, branches reaching like skeletal hands. Then it shifted again, into a field of broken clocks, their ticking deafening.
Elara spun, slashing another hollow apart, her voice raw. "It's endless!"
Aelric grinned through the blood on his lips, swinging his pipe again. "Good. I hate easy fights."
---
The fragmented figure didn't move. It simply watched from the center, its form pulsing with each toll of the unseen bell. Every pulse sent another wave of hollows spilling out, bending reality around them.
Elara's lungs burned. Sweat and blood slicked her grip on the dagger. "We can't hold forever!"
Aelric's corrupted arm writhed, glowing hotter. He could feel the shard within him answering the figure, resonating with its fractured existence. His mind screamed against the pull, but he forced the words out.
"We don't need forever. Just long enough to—"
Another hollow lunged at him, knocking him to the ground. Its jaws snapped, inches from his throat, the smell of decay choking him.
Elara screamed his name, sprinting toward him.
Aelric shoved his corrupted arm into the hollow's chest. The tendrils erupted violently, tearing the creature apart from within. He rolled back to his feet, gasping, blood streaming from a cut across his cheek.
"—long enough to figure out what the hell it wants."
---
The figure's head tilted again, as though amused.
"You resist. Yet you carry me already."
Elara froze, eyes darting to Aelric's arm. "It's talking about the shard…"
The figure's voice layered through the chamber.
"The corruption is not corruption. It is inheritance."
Aelric's grin faltered, his heart lurching. Inheritance.
The tendrils in his arm flared brighter, almost hungrily.
Elara grabbed his shoulder, shaking him. "Don't listen! It's trying to pull you in!"
But the figure raised a hand, and the hollows froze mid-motion, their bodies twitching like broken marionettes. The fractured presence leaned closer, its empty face inches from Aelric's.
"You are mine already. Let go."
---
For a moment, the temptation was unbearable. Aelric felt the shard surging inside him, promising strength, release, an end to the endless struggle. His corrupted arm pulsed in rhythm with the tolling bell, each beat whispering surrender.
Elara's voice cut through the haze, raw and desperate. "Aelric, look at me!"
His vision swam—half filled with the fractured figure, half with Elara's bloodstained face, her dagger raised though her arms trembled from exhaustion.
"You're not theirs!" she shouted. "You're you! And I need you here, not swallowed by them!"
The whispers clawed deeper. "She will leave you. She cannot stop her timer."
But Aelric laughed, sharp and ragged. "Then I'll break her timer the same way I break everything else."
His corrupted arm erupted, tendrils lashing outward to strike the figure directly.
---
The impact shattered the silence. The figure staggered, its fractured form flickering as though dozens of versions of it were splintering apart at once.
The hollows shrieked and dissolved, the warped chamber stuttering violently—cavern, city, forest, clocks—then collapsing back into stone and ruin.
The hourglass, or what remained of it, lay in shards across the floor. The glow dimmed, the sand gone.
The figure hissed, its voice unraveling. "This… is not… the end…"
And with a final crack, it shattered like glass, fragments of light scattering into the darkness.
---
Silence fell.
Aelric dropped to his knees, chest heaving, blood soaking his torn shirt. His corrupted arm smoked, veins retreating slightly under his skin.
Elara rushed to him, dropping beside him and pulling his head against her shoulder. "You stupid, reckless idiot… you actually did it."
He smirked faintly, voice barely a whisper. "Told you… I don't lose to myself."
Her arms tightened around him, her tears falling into his bloodied hair. "Don't you dare leave me."
He didn't answer. His eyes were closed, but his breathing—shallow as it was—remained.
---
Far above, in the Council's chamber, the final hour mirror shattered.
Kaelen stood amidst the wreckage, glass crunching under his boots. His face was pale, his jaw tight.
"They've broken the seal," he murmured.
The councilors looked to him, fear etched into their eyes.
"What do we do now?"
Kaelen turned, his cloak trailing over broken glass. His voice was steady, cold as stone.
"We prepare for the Seventh Night."