"Madness does not begin with chaos… it begins with power that no longer answers to you."
The deeper Kael walked, the quieter the Hollow Depths became. Not the empty kind of silence that came from abandonment, but the kind that felt… deliberate. As if something in this part of the structure had learned to listen before it moved. The torches here were fewer, their flames weaker, leaving long stretches of darkness between patches of dim light. The walls narrowed again, but not in the same broken way as before. These were older. The stone was smoother, worn down not by footsteps, but by time itself. Faint scratches marked the surface—thin lines, uneven, scattered without pattern. Not tools. Not weapons. Something else.
Kael's steps slowed not from hesitation, but awareness being the reason. This part of the lower depths was avoided for a reason. The air felt different here, heavier. Not because of the moisture, not with decay—but with something harder to describe. A pressure that didn't sit on the body, but somewhere behind the mind, subtle and almost unnoticeable.
Almost.
Kael's gaze shifted slightly as he walked, not focusing on any single point, but taking in everything at once. The spacing of the torches, the shadows they created the absence of sound. Even the small things mattered, especially here.
A faint noise broke the silence. Kael heard a voice, low and uneven. Speaking without rhythm.
Kael stopped.
The sound came from ahead, deeper into the corridor, just beyond the reach of the nearest torch. Words overlapped each other, broken fragments of speech that didn't form a complete thought.
"…not enough… not yet… still there… I can feel it…"
Kael didn't move closer immediately. He listened first, the tone wasn't fear it wasn't anger either. It was something worse. A slow, consuming kind of need that didn't fade with time—it grew.
"…more… just a little more…"
Kael stepped forward.
The light shifted as he crossed into the darker section of the corridor. The source of the voice came into view.
A man.
Standing in the middle of the passage. His posture was wrong, it was not balanced and stable.
His body leaned slightly forward, as if being pulled by something invisible. His hands trembled—not from weakness, but from strain. His fingers twitched at irregular intervals, as if they weren't entirely under his control. His clothes were torn, stained dark in places where blood had dried and cracked into the fabric. Fresh marks layered over old ones, crossing his arms, his neck, even his face. None of them looked defensive.
They looked… self-inflicted. The man's head tilted slightly upward, his eyes unfocused, staring at nothing.
"…almost… I'm almost there…"
Kael observed him without speaking.
This was what Daren had meant.
Instability.
Not immediate.
Not obvious at first.
But when it showed—
It was already too late.
Kael stepped forward, the faint sound of his movement echoing lightly against the stone. The man reacted instantly, his head snapped toward Kael. Too fast, the motion wasn't natural. His eyes locked onto Kael's face—and for a brief second, clarity returned.
"You…" he whispered.
Then it broke again.
A grin spread across his face, too wide, too sudden, stretching in a way that didn't match the rest of him.
"You have it too… don't you?"
Kael didn't answer.
The man took a step forward, it was unsteady but fast.
"I can feel it," he continued, his voice rising slightly, excitement bleeding into it. "You've taken them… more than one… maybe more…"
His breathing grew heavier as he tries to talk staring with bloodshot eyes.
"You're still standing…" he said, almost in awe. "How?"
Kael tilted his head slightly.
"I control it," he said.
The man froze.
For a second—there was silence
Then—Laughter.
Broken, uneven. Too loud for the space around them.
"Control?" the man repeated, his voice shaking with something between amusement and disbelief. "No… no, that's not how it works…"
He took another step forward, then another. Each movement less stable than the last.
"It doesn't listen," he continued, tapping his head lightly with his fingers. "It never listens… it just grows… and grows…"
His expression twisted.
"…and then it takes everything."
Kael watched him, but his expression as always remained calm and unmoved.
"Then you failed," he said.
The words landed without force, but they hit harder than any attack. The man's laughter stopped instantly. His face went still.
Completely still.
Then—
His body moved, fast and faster than before. He lunged forward, his weapon appearing in his hand as if it had always been there. The strike came from an awkward angle, his body twisting unnaturally as the blade cut toward Kael's neck.
Kael stepped back. The edge missed by inches.
The man didn't stop, he moved again and again. Each attack faster than the last—but less controlled. The strikes came from unpredictable angles, his body bending in ways that didn't follow proper form. It wasn't technique rather it was his instinct a broken one.
Kael adjusted. His movements were small, precise but he didn't try to overpower, he didn't rush to counter but he watched.
The man's attacks became more erratic with each second. His breathing grew louder, uneven, his movements sharper—but sloppier. The power was there, but the control was gone.
Kael stepped in.
Timing, that was all it took. He caught the man's arm mid-swing. The impact sent a jolt through both of them—but Kael's grip held. The man struggled immediately, his strength surging in bursts, his muscles tightening unpredictably as he tried to pull free.
"You don't understand—" the man hissed, his voice breaking again. "It's not something you control—"
Kael twisted his wrist, a sharp crack cut him off. The man's arm bent violently, the joint snapping out of place. His weapon fell, clattering against the ground.
Kael didn't stop, he stepped forward, closing the distance completely. His blade moved, fast and precise. It cut across the man's chest—not deep enough to kill, but enough to break his rhythm. The man staggered but he didn't fall.
Instead—
He laughed.
Again.
Even louder.
Blood spilled from the wound, but he didn't react to it.
"See?" he said, his voice shaking. "It doesn't matter anymore…"
His eyes locked onto Kael's.
"But you…" he whispered, almost softly now. "You're still there… I can see it…"
A pause.
"…I wonder how long that will last."
Kael stepped forward.
This time—
He ended it. The blade drove straight through the man's throat. A clean and direct cut. The laughter stopped instantly, the body went still then collapsed.
Silence returned.
Kael stood there for a moment, his gaze steady on the fallen figure.
Then—
The glow appeared, brighter than before.
A fragment.
Kael reached out and took it. The moment it entered him, the sensation hit harder than any before. Not just thoughts and not just the feelings but something deeper this time.
For a brief second—
His vision shifted. A flash of memory that wasn't his. A voice.
"…more…"
Then—
It vanished.
Kael exhaled slowly ,his mind steadied.
But this time—
He noticed something, a faint pressure, small as if its barely there but its present..
Kael's gaze lowered slightly.
"…so it accumulates."
Kael looked at the body again.
"Control is not about resisting," he said quietly. "It's about deciding what stays… and what doesn't."
He turned and walked deeper into the Hollow Depths.
Because now—
The real danger had begun.