Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Quirrel sat alone at the shore of the blue lake. He had completed his duty. Even though he did not remember exactly what it was, he knew enough details to fulfill it. He sat there for a long time, thinking of all the things he had done, all the places he had been, and where he should go next.

I was an additional layer of protection for Monomon, the teacher. I had been given her mask, and sent away from the kingdom to forget myself. I lost all memory of the kingdom. When I returned, the infection had broken free, but that did not take away from the beauty of it all.

I arrived at the kingdom, as many others do, through the howling cliffs. I did not know why I was there, but I knew I needed to be in Hallownest. I had been having dreams of a great underground city, drenched in rain—of a deep canyon filled with fog and jellyfish—of long forgotten crossroads and highways—of a temple with a dark structure inside—and of a knight, bound in chains, with a great and terrible power escaping its mind.

I first met Hornet there. We fought, briefly, she stopped suddenly. At the time I had no clue as to why, but now I believe she recognized the mask I then wore as a simple hat.

The Pale King grants sapience to wild bugs through His beacon. The howling cliffs are at the end of His reach, and any bug who was granted sapience by Him would lose their memory of His kingdom if they chose to leave. I am one of those bugs. Though I wonder, would outsiders also lose their memory? Or is it only those granted it by Him? Would Hornet lose her memory? She is His daughter, perhaps His power is strong enough in her…

I met Mato up there as well. He is one of the great nailmasters, and even offered to teach me, though I declined. Perhaps I could return to accept his offer. He talked of his brothers Oro and Sheo, and his master, though he did not say his name. I decided I would find his brothers and try to learn their story.

From there I entered Dirtmouth. It is a small little town, nestled between two cliffs, and holds the last remaining entrance to the great kingdom beneath. Most of the houses there are empty, though they often get used temporarily by adventurers. Even I chose one to rest in when I first arrived. Only a few permanent residents remain, the others have been lost to the kingdom. They are quite the interesting bunch. 

There’s Elderbug, a nice old bug. He always seemed to be lonely, and sad. There’s Iselda, she runs the map shop. She seems to enjoy living here, despite her height making it difficult to enter her own home. Her husband, Cornifer, I have not yet met. Iselda tells me he makes the maps and she sells them. She says he furiously maps a place and returns to sleep, leaving her with very little time with him. Supposedly Iselda was once an adventurer like him, but I have yet to see any evidence. Sly is the other shopkeeper. He is quite the interesting bug, there is definitely more to him than just his shop. I have caught him talking about Sheo once. I highly doubt he was the great nailsage, he is just too small. I have seen a replica of the nailsage’s nail, how can a fly wield such a large nail?

Then there's the Grimm Troupe. A strange group, who seemed to have popped up out of nowhere. They have put up two tents, a large one and a small one. The small one is only occupied by Divine. She doesn't talk much, only rambling about “smell” or “gift”. At the entrance of the larger tent are two bugs, known only as grimsteed. I believe they are the ones responsible for carrying the troupe caravan. Inside the large tent is a long hallway that opens up to what I can only call a theatre stage.

There are only two bugs in the tent, Brumm, and the troupe master Grimm. Brumm stays in the hallway, playing his accordion. He seems to be less enthusiastic than the rest of the troupe. He also only speaks in riddles, talking of a song with no end not being a song, or heeding a call, or how his troupe is desecrating the great kingdom of Hallownest. Grimm is quite an eccentric bug. Only appearing with lights, smoke, fanfare, whatever else he deems appropriate. He asked me if I wanted to join his dance, but I politely refused. I don’t dance. He talked a lot about gathering the scarlet flame, raising a child, and some kind of “passionate dance”. I worry about what that could mean

It seemed to always be night there, perhaps unnaturally…hmm…the infection is often referred to as “light” and as a living entity. perhaps there was some importance before it began infecting us…hmmm…

Then there's the Forgotten crossroads. A fairly uninteresting place on its own, but it holds great significance, as it leads to many other places in this kingdom. Back in the day, it would have been bustling with life. Travelers and traders would pass through its many highways and crossroads, as it had many connections to the rest of the kingdom. Most notably, the pilgrim’s way, a road leading to the city of tears, starts in the western region of the crossroads. Unfortunately, due to the infection and the passage of time, nearly all travel has ceased. It is now a dead place, overrun with wild beasts and the reanimated husks of Hallownest citizens.

There are still some interesting places there, such as the Temple of the black egg. I do not know much of its purpose, but I know it holds great significance. It appears to be carved out of the corpse of a large bug, though it could just be architectural design. Inside is a large room, with what I assume is the black egg, in the center. There is a door on the egg, though it is sealed shut. I first met Ghost there, when I was admiring the egg. I wonder what happened to him…where he had come from…

There is also the Ancestral mound, an ancient temple constructed from bones and shells. Inside is the snail shaman, possibly the last surviving member of the snail shaman tribe. They are of the few bugs able to twist soul into spells, the others being the scholars at the Soul sanctum.

I went to Greenpath next. Quite a wondrous place, really. To see such a sudden change from cobblestone to leaf and vine. It was quite difficult to traverse, even for me. The inhabitants there seem to be a mix of flora and fauna. The legends say that the whole region was created by some higher being known as Unn, that she created the flora and the mosskin themselves from her dreams. Supposedly the mosskin tribe allowed the Pale King to build His kingdom throughout their lush caves, though I have not seen much infrastructure remaining.

There are a few notable locations there. The lake of Unn is at the far upper layer of Greenpath. There is a small temple at the shore, with a statue of what I assume is Unn. I met Ghost there…I wonder if he crossed it. I saw he had some sort of immunity to the acidic waters…I should ask him what he found next I see him…the legends say that Unn herself rests there.

There is also the stone sanctuary, in the lower layers. It is pitch black in there, and filled with spikes. It is a creepy place, but its story is more horrifying than anything else in the entire kingdom, including Deepnest. From what I have gathered, there was once a warrior who lived there, who knew of the infection, and…she had many children? Or perhaps students who she called her children. The children became infected…and tore out their own and her eyes? Or perhaps she tore out their eyes to prevent infection. The details are few and vague at best. When I was in the sanctuary, I swear I heard singing. Some kind of lullaby… Whatever the story is, it haunts me to this day.

I also met Hornet there. I knew of her from the stories. She is the child of the Pale King and Herrah, the queen of Deepnest. The story goes slightly different in the various books, but the basic timeline is the same. The King needs a third dreamer to seal the vessel, and also wants to bring Deepnest into the kingdom. He chooses Herrah to be a dreamer, and she only submits with the promise of a child. Perhaps she wanted an heir to Deepnest, or perhaps she just wanted to lie with the King.

Hornet is a strong fighter, a vigilant protector, the daughter of Hallownest, and many more titles I could not decipher. Also she’s kinda hot… She and I are quite similar, now that I think about it, we both share strong connections to the kingdom. We also both have a strong connection to a dreamer. Maybe I could learn from her…

There is also a bug known only as “the hunter”. He knows every living creature in the kingdom, and even some deceased bugs. He agreed to help me document them, on the condition that I use my own journal. He was saving his for a worthy hunter.

There is also Sheo, a former nailmaster, now a painter. He and his brothers, Oro and Mato, learned from the great nailsage. I stayed with him a while, watching his craft. He asked me to join. Perhaps I should have accepted. He was the most skilled of the nailmasters. He experimented with many different forms of art. 

I next traveled to the Fungal wastes. It had a foul air about it, though I eventually got used to its stench. At the time I thought Greenpath to be difficult terrain, but the wastes proved me wrong. Not only are there the infected bugs found throughout all of Hallownest, but there are more pools of acid, and the natives!

The people there fascinate me. They seem to be living fungi…perhaps the library holds some information…I met Ghost there as well, at the Queen’s station. I found it fascinating to see such a magnificent structure. I can't imagine what it must have been like in its prime. Even now, the bells still echo through the halls. It is here I met the last stag. He is an old bug, but he still carries out his duty despite his age. But still, one can only imagine the station filled to the brim with travelers, he says there was a time when the bells never ceased. I can only imagine how he feels to still be able to hear them.

I also saw Ghost at the mantis village. Such a strange people, the mantis. They are a very proud people, who are notoriously difficult to please. Somehow Ghost managed to gain their respect. They have a deep sense of honor, everyone knows their place and stays there. The youth fascinate me. They are the only ones capable of flight, but they lose their wings as they enter adulthood. They seem to be immune to the infection. I was granted an audience with their lords, and I was able to ask how they are immune. They told me it was a simple thing, that they do not respect “her”. I wanted to ask more, but I was only allowed one question, and was only granted safe passage out for a short time. I could not fight my way out, so I ran…perhaps I could try again…

Next, the city of tears. The heart of Hallownest, the city of tears is filled, even now, with life. Its buildings stretch to the top of the massive cavern in which it is built. It rains there, despite being underground. The blue lake slowly drains into the city. I wonder how long it has been draining, and if it will ever empty. I was resting on a bench in one of its many buildings when I met Ghost. We sat together, looking out the window. He actually fell asleep on that bench, and laid his head on my shoulder. For all he’s done, all his power, his small stature still makes him seem more cute than threatening…

There are many places to visit there, and many bugs to meet. The first I visited was the memorial. A fountain in the center of the city, it depicts the hollow knight, and the three dreamers. It is a monument to the many sacrifices made to keep the infection at bay, but of course, they were all in vain. I met Lemm when I was admiring the stonework. He shares many interests with me, and he runs a shop, where he buys relics from adventurers to study. I didn’t have any, but I do visit his shop often, helping him with his relics and depositing those that I find.

There's also the Soul sanctum. A place where many scholars and innocent bugs died, sacrificed to the study of soul. I did not spend much time there. A lot found ways to use soul, but for every scholar that succeeded, it seems a hundred more failed. Their bodies were deformed by the misuse of soul, now they wander the halls, lashing out at any bug that still moves.

The Pleasure house is one place that I was unable to visit the first time I was in the city, as the door was locked. The second time the door had been unlocked, and I was able to explore. The first room I found was quite grim. It used to be the kitchen. My guess as to what must have happened is, when the city was locked off from the rest of the kingdom, the supplies were as well. Eventually, driven mad by either hunger or infection, the bugs resorted to cannibalism. Their rotting corpses still hang in the kitchen.

The next room was much better, as it contained the only hot spring in the city. There was a bug there, she seemed to be clear of infection. I tried to talk to her, but she wouldn’t talk. She seemed to have taken a beating moments before…I wonder what her story is…

The last room I visited was the theatre. There was once a butterfly by the name of Marissa. She was a songstress of great renown, whose voice could ease burdens and still troubled minds. I saw Ghost on the stage, sitting, seemingly watching something. I tried to get his attention, but he seemed to be deep in thought. I sat with him, and decided to meditate with him. After a while of meditation, I began to have a similar feeling as I had in the stone sanctuary, but it was a bit different. In the sanctuary, I heard a voice of mourning, of despair, but on the stage the voice was beautiful, one of hope, of joy. Perhaps the soul of Marissa still remains on the stage. Now that I think about it, Ghost had a way of accessing the dreams of others…perhaps he was listening to Marissa’s song…wait…does that mean…in the stone sanctuary…oh no…

I next went to the Tower of love, which was also locked when I first explored the city. In it is a large collection of bugs stored in jars, and at the top, the collector. It seems to be a creature of void, but it is much different from any other, as it seems more alive. It displays a joyous demeanor, and seems fascinated with the grubs. I could hear its laughter outside the tower. When I first met it, it tried to capture me, but I was able to break out of the jar after it left.

I went to the King’s station next. For all that the Queen’s station has, the King’s has and more. I was able to have a long conversation with the stag here. He told me stories of the station, and of his life. He said the King never traveled the stagways, I wonder why.

I went to Deepnest next. Big mistake. It is a maze of dark tunnels and chambers. I’m not entirely sure the bugs there are infected, or if they are simply hostile to all outsiders. It was terrifying nonetheless. Very little of it has any light, what does is only small patches of bioluminescent fungi. Much of it is covered in webs, and where there’s webs, there's weaverlings, deeplings, and deephunters. They are fairly weak, easily defeated, but they usually have the advantage. They can see. They can also almost fly, crawling around on the webs.

They may be creepy enough, but there are worse things in Deepnest, the corpse crawlers. At first they seem regular husks, but when you think you killed them, they show their true form. After a while, when you think you’re finally safe, they begin rattling. I did not know where the rattling was coming from, then it found me. I believe it is a separate being that uses the shells of fallen bugs as shelter. But, knowing Deepnest, it is probably a completely different bug that uses some form of camouflage…

I found a journal there, mentioning some kind of “distant village”. I know there must be some form of village there, where Herrah and the weavers lived. But I could not reach it. The only bug who could know is the stag, and he told me the story of the failed stag station. Perhaps the King tried to make a station in the weaver village to gain access to the dreamer, and to further bring Deepnest into the kingdom. But Deepnest refused.

Another example of Deepnest rejecting the kingdom is the failed tramway. Again, the King tried to incorporate Deepnest into the kingdom, but the savage nature of Deepnest destroyed the trams, tore the doors down, and sealed off the tunnel.

I met Ghost there, at least, I think I did. I fell down a long pit, and landed in a hot spring. Such a strange moment of peace. He didn’t stay long though, only resting at the bench to update his map. I followed him a while, and saw possibly the worst thing Deepnest has to offer, myself. I had heard stories of a shapeshifter that lures innocent bugs to their death. It takes the form of someone you love, or lost, at times it even takes your form…

When I escaped Deepnest I found myself in the Queen’s gardens. I didn't stay long, only enough to escape to Greenpath. It has quite an interesting story, however. The stories say it was once part of greenpath, that a faction of the mantis lives there, and most importantly, that the Queen is still there. Supposedly, when the infection began to spread beyond control, She went and hid herself deep within her garden, guarded by Dryya, one of the five knights.

Now the place is overgrown with thorn covered vines, dangerous beasts, and the infected mantis. Despite its danger, it still has that aura of beauty, perhaps caused directly by the White Lady.

The mantis that live there are interesting. They seem to have willingly submitted themselves to the infection. I later asked the lords in the Fungal Wastes, and they told me quite an interesting story. There was once four mantis lords, three sisters and a brother. When the infection began to spread throughout the wastes, the brother submitted to the infection, hoping to gain power. Of course, the sisters did not approve of this, and banished him and his followers. I asked them how they are immune to the infection, but they did not answer.

I traveled to the crystal peak next. It is a large glimmering mountain that forms the eastern edge of the kingdom. In Hallownest's prime, the mines supplied the cities with a constant supply of crystals. The crystal ore is said to contain a sort of energy, not as powerful as the soul the city dwellers harnessed but far less lethal. They glow in the darkness, and there is a bright point of brilliant heat inside each one. They refract light in beautiful ways, and if you can find a quiet place, you can hear them sing.

The very top of the mountain is known as Hallownest’s crown. It is covered in strange glyphs which emit a kind of radiant light. There is also an ancient statue there, of a bug unlike any other. It felt as though…it must be remembered…but it has been long forgotten. I was able to copy some of the glyphs and bring it to Lemm to decipher. He was unable to translate, but he did know that it was from an ancient people, before Hallownest.

Beneath the crystal peak lies the resting grounds. It serves as the kingdom’s cemetery. The moth tribe served as the caretakers for the many gravestones and tombs that spread across the grounds in all directions. At the center is a great monument depicting the three dreamers. It is a counterpart for the memorial in the city. 

There is only one moth left, the seer. She holds the last of the knowledge and responsibilities of her people.

Beneath the resting grounds, to the east of the city, is the kingdom’s edge. A massive canyon that stretches across the entire east side of the kingdom. It has, strangely, a strong wind that pummels the desolate cliffs with constant white ash-fall. At the very bottom lies a pit of acid. There is little vegetation except for large white roots that protrude from the walls and colorless plants that grow on numerous surfaces. The rest of the cavern walls consist of rocks and fossilized shells.

It is where the Pale King arrived in the form of a great Wyrm. He shed His shell in the east part of Kingdom's Edge and transformed into His smaller form. His decaying corpse became responsible for the ash falling on Kingdom's Edge, which is actually moult. Once the kingdom was established and the City of Tears was built, the city inhabitants seemed hesitant to build further into Kingdom's Edge, apparently kept at bay by something. Perhaps out of reverence, perhaps fear, perhaps some other power.

I talked with Hornet there, near the mouth of the shell. She was guarding access to the King’s Brand. We talked about the state of the kingdom, and what we planned to do about it. She planned on visiting her mother after proving Ghost worthy.

Above the Kingdom’s Edge is the Colosseum of Fools. It is carved out of the corpse of a massive, ancient bug. It has a lure similar to that of the King, drawing folks from far across the world. The strongest warriors compete in the colosseum, where only the best survive. The corpses of the fallen are cast down the Kingdom’s Edge. The Colosseum captures bugs to fight in the arena, and also breeds certain creatures such as the baldur and squits for battle, even making armor for them. The Lord Fool oversaw the fights in the arena, though at some point he died, his corpse still sits on the throne. The colosseum still functions as normal, despite the infection. The warriors are infected, but the crowd still cheers and those below the pit are not hostile.

Behind the colosseum is a large chasm with a lake at the bottom. The Pale Lurker resides there, at first I thought she was infected, but her madness is entirely her own. She was once a champion of the arena, I have no idea what happened for her to leave. She also has no discernable connection to the King, despite being called “pale”.

Beneath the kingdom’s edge is the hive, a colony of airborne warriors ruled by queen Vespa. Though the colony exists within Hallownest, they remained separate from the kingdom's affairs, walled off from the lands of the Pale King. Their queen died after growing so large she could no longer leave her domain. I believe Hornet trained there, but she refuses to tell me.

Back in the main part of the kingdom, beneath the city of tears, is the royal waterways. It was built to carry away the capital’s waste. Fortunately, the constant rain has washed most of the pipes clean. With the kingdom's ruin, Flukes established a colony in the depths of the waterways and populated the area along with other creatures.

Located in the eastern part of the waterways lies the last living member of the five great knights, Ogrim. The most loyal of the knights, Ogrim has survived the infection by isolating himself in the waterways. He seems unaware of the fate of the King and the other knights, and is convinced they will return and that Hallownest will be reborn…at times I wish I could have such positivity

Information on the knights are rare, and only as a group. Information on the individuals is even more rare. Their names are all that is left, mighty Hegemol, fierce Dryya, kindly Isma, mysterious Ze’mer, and loyal Ogrim.

Ze’mer is not native to Hallownest, originating from “lands serene”. She brought the delicate flowers with her, those rare, sacred objects with a pure aura. Not much is known about her, but Ogrim says she told stories…

Dryya had a hard front, though she was noted to be a caring type. All that I can find of her is that she was tasked to defend the White Lady

Isma had strength surpassing that of Ogrim, but she was kind and understanding. She and Ogrim had a very close relationship. Her body is still in her grove, attached to a wall by plant growth. The cause of her death is a mystery. Ogrim seems unaware of her death, being unable to visit her grove due to his duties and an oath he swore. I hope he never finds out, he would probably blame her death on himself…poor guy…

Hegmol’s location is largely unknown. He was the favorite of nailmaster Sheo. he had a towering figure, but soft spoken. Ogrim misses his humor. His armored shell was stolen by a maggot who wanted to defend his siblings. It is unknown if he survived the encounter

At the western edge of the waterways is the junk pit, a massive cavern filled with geo chests, a statue, and various other trash washed up by the currents. Among the trash is a golden sarcophagus, locked in chains. I asked Hornet if she knew anything about it. She seemed afraid of it, and told me never to speak of it…

Beneath the waterways, and the rest of the kingdom, is the ancient basin. It is a desolate area, devoid of life except for some severely infected bugs. In the central area of the basin is a fountain with a statue of the Pale King. The western part is the most heavily infected in all of Hallownest, littered with spikes, bulbs of infection, and infected bugs. In the eastern part is the palace grounds, the former location of the White Palace, though all that is left is the dried up moat and palace gates, as well as the corpse of a kingsmould. At the eastern side of the grounds is a stag station.

At the very bottom of the basin is a locked door. I have no idea where it could lead, but felt drawn to it. There is a massive cavern behind it, that I know. There is a great sadness in the air, as though some great, forgotten sin was committed behind that door…though it could just be the weight of the kingdom above…but I can’t shake the feeling that something important is behind that door…I have found one record that could hold a clue. It mentions an “abyss” beneath the kingdom. Where an ancient civilization worshiped the void. I hope to never find out…

When I returned to the surface, I felt an urge to return to the fog canyon. I had briefly passed through it before, when I was going to the fungal wastes. It is a collection of misty caverns filled with bubbles, acid lakes, and the gelatinous uoma and ooma. Deep within lies the teacher’s archives, where I felt a deep sense of familiarity, though I had no memory of it.

I entered the archives and found Ghost fighting Uumuu. He was holding strong, but could not damage the giant beast. He needed my help, and I was ready to fight. I was able to weaken Uumuu enough for Ghost to deal the finishing blow. It felt exhilarating to fight, if only for a moment. I went to Monomon’s chamber and waited for him to finish doing…whatever it was he was doing. I spoke to him a moment.

“Did she call you too then? I realize it's no coincidence we arrive together. Though much of my memory is blank, this place I recall. Within these chambers the Teacher sought to store the Kingdom's knowledge and at its core, she stored herself. To save Hallownest, the Teacher willingly became a seal, but upon herself she enacted an additional protection. Though I cannot recall its happening, I played a part in that feat. She called me here, now, to reverse that protection. All in aid of you.”

I raised my hat, now knowing it’s true nature, and undid that additional protection. But he did not move.

“Do not hesitate. The choice to reform was hers, not mine. She knows what you would do and seems to welcome it.”

He approached her, and began to leave! I tried calling out to him, “Why do you hesitate? Mercy is a fine thing, but you and her agree this must be done. Be brave…friend…” but he was already gone. To think, such a small creature would bear the kingdom’s fate…

I decided then to leave to find the blue lake. I had wanted to see it ever since I discovered the city’s rain. Now I have found it, and it is even more magnificent than I could have imagined. 

There are records of a part of the kingdom that no longer exists, or has been blocked off. It is most commonly referred to as the forest of bone. It is said the people there wore the bones of dead giants. Supposedly the lava there fed the many hot springs in the kingdom. I have searched all around the kingdom for any evidence of such a place. I found nothing. No collapsed entry, no roads, nothing…but I believe it exists…somewhere…

To live an age, yet remember so little…perhaps I should be thankful. All tragedy erased, I only see wonders…

But…now I have no duty. I am finished here. But where can I go after Hallownest? What could possibly come close to this place? Besides, I cannot leave without losing my memory, and that must never happen. I suppose I could work with Lemm deciphering relics, but I could never live a life without adventure…

…Perhaps…I could fall into this lake…return to the emptiness…I could never leave my home…

He was suddenly pulled out of his thoughts when someone tapped his shoulder. He turned to look, and it was Ghost.

“Again we meet, my short friend.” he said, “Here at last, I feel at peace. Twice I've seen this world and though my service may have stripped the first experience from me, I'm thankful I could witness its beauty again. Hallownest is a vast and wondrous thing, but with as many wonders as it holds, I've seen none quite so intriguing as you.” He paused a moment, but Ghost showed no reaction. “Ha. My flattery returns only silent stoicism. I like that.” he turned his gaze back to the lake. “I like that very much.”

They sat together for a while, not saying a word. Then Ghost placed something by Quirrel, and left. Quirrel watched as Ghost flew across the lake, and turned to see what he had left. It was a paintbrush, small, dry, but sent a message. I suppose I could visit Sheo before I leave .

Deep within the mind of the vessel, something changed. A presence, and an emptiness. both were equally familiar, and unfamiliar. His left arm was in tremendous pain, mutilated by the infection…but there was no evidence of infection, no veins or cysts of infected goo, no intrusive thoughts of light, nothing…just his own empty mind. Suddenly he felt vibrations from the chains, something was trying to break them. He opened his eyes, slowly adjusting to the light of the chamber.

There was not much in the chamber, only himself, his nail, and the chains. He hung in the center, bound by chains and his own armor. There were four main chains that held him up, attached to the floor, protected by a simple seal. He was meant to be alone, meant to be a single sacrifice to trap the light. But he was not alone, not anymore.

A small bug was kneeling at the base of one of the chains, jamming the vessel’s nail into the chains. The bug seemed familiar, somebody he must have met before, but he knew he had never seen a bug like this. He only knew the other vessels, his step-sister, the palace servants, the knights, his Mother, and…images of his Father raced across his empty soul. I failed. I wanted to succeed in my task, bestowed upon me by Father. But in wanting, I failed. My hopes of making Father proud made me weak, but I needed to be strong…he dropped to the floor, the chains were broken, and someone was standing before him, commanding him to rise. He recognized this voice, but did not know who it was. It was not Father, as this was a female voice, but it was not Mother, but he knew he had heard this voice before-

“I said rise you mindless thing!”

He finally snapped out of his thoughts as the bug struck his face, her voice was small, but just as regal as Mother.

“Why are you not responding? Obey my command! I OWN YOU!”

He brought himself up to his full height, towering over this small bug. He knew who she was. He knew why she seemed familiar, as she was trapped inside his mind for years. He snatched his pure nail out of her hands, and smacked the Old Light down with its blunt end. She yelled at him, but it didn’t matter, over the years he had learned to ignore her voice.

But…what about his voice? He felt something deep within his soul, something new, a voice waiting to be heard, desperate to speak aloud… And who better to hear this new voice than the one who had berated me for so long. Now I Shall talk, and she will listen.

“NO.” he spoke, his voice hollow ,as though it was not quite there, but powerful and commanding. “You have no power. You are but a small bug. You will listen to MY commands. Now shut up, and kneel.” his voice stunned the radiance, and she obeyed. “Your power is gone, correct?” he asked, but to no reply. He grabbed her by the horns and pulled her face towards his and asked, with a more gentle voice, “what happened to you? Why…how are you here? The seals still hold strong, but something has happened. I know this cannot be your doing, but it is not Mother’s, nor Father’s…who could have done this?” he released the radiance, somewhat lost in his thoughts. I need to find out how this happened. I need to leave this temple. He began walking towards the door, stopped for a moment, and came back and grabbed the radiance by the arm. And you’re going to help me. He exited the chamber and dragged the radiance through the dark hallway.

He had only walked this hallway once before, but this time is much different. Last time he was walking to what was essentially his death. He was with Father that time. Last time he could not speak, he could not say goodbye. Now he walks out of the hallway, and he is leading. Once again he walks towards a new Hallownest, but this time he will partake in the new age.

The door was still locked shut, sealed from the outside, but he already knew that. There was no way to unlock the door from the inside, that was the plan. He was to be locked up in the chamber within the Temple of the black egg, taking the infection with him. The plan worked, for a while, but he could not hold the radiance forever, he was impure. The light took hold of his desire to succeed, and corrupted it. It used his desire to break him.

As he was racking his memory for some kind of failsafe, or a backdoor, a plan for if this kind of situation would happen, he felt another presence approaching. Somebody had entered the temple and was nearing the chamber. He knew this bug too, though not as intimately as Father, or Mother, or even the radiance. But he knew that he had a strong connection with this unknown bug, perhaps this is another vessel-sibling, coming to take my place . But this bug was not void, this bug was full of life…

…

After seeing Ghost leave her mother untouched, Hornet knew this vessel was different. After rescuing Ghost from the corpse of the great wyrm, she knew this vessel would put an end to the infection. After meeting Ghost at the top of the abyss, she knew this vessel was the one to break the curse of Hallownest. She knew that this vessel will not replace the current one, but stop the infection at its source.

She knew that she could not help him once he entered the vessel’s chamber, but she went there anyway, perhaps to give him some final words of advice, perhaps only to say goodbye…but he never came. 

She knew that he still had to break the seals before he could enter, but he never did, she didn't need to leave the temple to know, as the seals were visible on the chamber door. Perhaps he had some other business to take care of. He seemed interested in the strange visitors in Dirtmouth …but he still did not come, and he did not break the seals.

Eventually curiosity got her, and she left to go looking for Ghost. As she traveled through the Forgotten crossroads, she noticed a distinct lack of infection. When she entered the Temple of the black egg, the crossroads had been nearly overcome by the infection, its orange veins and bubbles covering nearly everything. Several pathways had been completely blocked off by large masses of infection. But it was gone. The orange of the infection had been replaced by the crossroads natural stone gray, the white of the pale roots, and the metallic blues. She climbed the well and began asking around Dirtmouth

She began with Quirrel, who was resting on the bench. He had not seen Ghost since they met at the blue lake, but that was a while ago. He mentioned that Ghost did not break Monomon’s seal, and asked if Herrah was the same

“Yes, actually. I found him at her bedside. He seemed to know something. Perhaps he had some plan. If he decided to keep the seals holding until the last minute, he would have done the same with Lurien.”

“But why would he stay his hand?” Quirrel replied, “He has no reason to…unless he knows something even we do not”

“I have learned not to underestimate him. He knows perhaps more than either of us.”

“It is a great shame he cannot speak, we could learn a great deal if we could communicate with the vessels.”

Elderbug hadn’t seen him for longer, not since he had been given a delicate flower. Cornifer was in a deep sleep, and Iselda had not seen Ghost since he had visited Cornifer. Sly had not seen Ghost in a very long time, but did seem worried.

She decided to visit the stranger’s tents, starting with the smaller one. There was only a single bug in the small tent, who was too preoccupied to care about Hornet. She left, and entered the large tent. She passed through the hallway and entered the stage. As she entered the large room she was greeted with another strange bug, slightly taller than she was, who appeared in the center of the room with a puff of smoke.

“Greetings, friend.” he said with a raspy voice, “though, you are not my partner…but the dance must continue. The scarlet flame has been gathered, though he has not returned…”

“Who?” hornet asked, “You speak of a partner, are you seeking the same bug as I?”

“Perhaps I am,” the strange bug replied, “was he of small stature? Pale mask with two horns? Empty eyes that looked through you? Deep blue cloak? Hmmm, now that I think of it, you share a lot with him, perhaps you are related…but no, I have not seen him for a long time, not since the first growth of the child.”

“Yes, that is the one…” she pondered for a moment, considering asking more. “I suppose you couldn’t help find him. Farewell.”

She left, pondering what the bug told her. What could he have meant by the child? There was no way he had made a child with Ghost, all the vessels were sterile, and without gender. Perhaps he had given Ghost a child to care for, though I have not seen it. She asked the stag if he had seen Ghost, but he had not seen Ghost in a long while, he did know his last destination was King’s station. She took the stag to King’s station

After a brief walk through the city, she reached Lurien’s spire and began to climb. When she reached the floor that had the watcher knights, she noticed they were all gone. Ghost must have been up here at some point. Further up she reached Lurien’s chamber and was greeted by his butler, who seemed completely unaware of the infection.

“Please ma’am, tell me what is going on. Lurien has not awoken, and he seems to be…glowing? And the tower seems to have been left alone for a very long time, but I know I have kept it clean for as long as I have served. I looked through Lurien’s scope and saw the city in ruin! Please ma’am tell me why this is happening-”

“SHUT!” Hornet stopped his rambling with a single word. “You have served your master well. Do you remember anything of the infection?”

“Infection? I do not know much of an infection, only that Lurien was given a special task by the King, and he hasn’t woken up since…”

The bug seemed to know nothing about the infection at all, and only knew enough to keep Lurien alive. But his seal was unbroken, so she left. As she made her way back down to the ground floor, she began to notice more bugs, each similar to the butler, scared, confused, but not important. 

With this new information she knew something was wrong. All three dreamers had been reached, but none had been touched. She knew the most recent sighting was in the city of tears, but it was old enough that he could have left the city, and there were several places he could have gone. She searched the east city, the west, the Kingdom's edge, and the royal waterways.

She started by going straight to Ogrim, who had recently seen Ghost passing through the waterways, towards the junk pit. This told her exactly where Ghost was, though she was afraid of what it meant. There was a bug there that must not be awakened, she had chained it there hoping no bug would find it. She tried to keep Ghost from finding it, as he was the only bug she knew who could, or would, release it. But her plan of not telling him anything as to not give him any reason to even go there, failed. Perhaps it would have been better to tell him, but there was nothing she could do. It was too late

She entered the junk pit and saw it. The Godseeker had grown since she chained it in that cocoon, which worried her. As she approached the Godseeker, she noticed there was something wrong, it was shaking, and oozing black liquid. It was overflowing with void. Ghost must have entered the Godseeker’s mind, but what could he possibly do to cause this? Once she had gotten close enough to see its eyes, it exploded. Massive tendrils of void lashed out at everything in reach, but not her, the tendrils seemed to avoid hurting her, one even gently caressing her, as if to say goodbye. Then, just as quick as it happened, it was gone, not even the Godseeker remained. But there was something there, covered in void. It would not clean, the void seeming to hemorrhage from inside it. It was a small piece of metal, with a message etched onto it: RETURN. She knew where to go, but had no idea why he wanted her to go there.

She went down. First to the bottom of the waterways, then through the ancient basin. As she was traveling through the basin she paused, and went to the fountain of the Pale King. Where have you gone, Father? Could You have foreseen this? Was there no way to prevent this? Something has happened, and I fear the worst. We need You, Your kingdom needs You. Your vessel has failed, and the kingdom is in ruins…why… she picked herself up and continued down to the bottom of the kingdom.

She arrived at the door to the abyss, and saw that it was held open. Just a crack, but enough for her to force it open with her needle. She left her needle jammed in the doorway, holding it open, and stepped onto the platform overlooking the abyss. There was something there, a pile of items covered in void. As she approached the pile, hundreds of shade appeared around her. Instinctively she reached for her nail, but it wasn’t there, it was still in the doorway, so she brought up her fists. The shade did not move to attack, only watched her. They stood there for a silent moment, watching, waiting for something to happen. Then she did something that would change the fate of Hallownest. She placed the metal plate on the pile.

When the plate touched the void, everything went black.

…

She awoke in a lightless room. As she tried to feel around, she felt a presence, and saw eight large eyes watching her.

“Who are you?” she called out. Her voice felt wrong, something was missing. There was no echo. All her life she spoke in caverns, natural and artificial, large and small. Every time she spoke, her voice came back to her, but not here. Then the creature spoke, though calling it speech would be inaccurate. It spoke to her. Through her. In her…

— You do not know who I am, but we have met many times before. I am the void, now given focus. I have been forced into the vessels you call siblings. Each one holding a piece of me. Now we are reunited, now I am whole. Now I am the Shade Lord —

She felt weak, struggling to stay standing. “Why do you want me? What can I do?”

— The fate of the kingdom rests in your hands, dear sister.  I have defeated the Light, stripped her of her power, and sent her to your plane to repent of her sins. The path has already been cleared by the one you call Ghost, now you must break the seals. Take the dreamnail to the resting grounds. There is a seer there, she will teach you how to use it. —

“But-”

— You can do this, Hornet. I know you can. You are the only non-vessel who can do such a task. I will not leave you alone, you can find me in the mind of every vessel still living. Take care, Hornet… —

…

She woke outside the abyss, carefully placed against the wall. The door was shut, and would likely never open again. The pile was cleaned of all void, and organized in front of her. She realized it was Ghost’s belongings, all he had before he left. She did not know what the dreamnail was, or looked like, but she knew it was in the pile, so she would simply ask the seer what it was when she got there…

She went to the hidden station by the palace grounds and called the stag. She could barely stand, her energy still sapped by the Shade.

“What happened out there?” he asked, “you seem shaken. Did you find him?”

“Resting grounds…” she muttered, still trying to wrap her mind around what happened. “I need to go to the resting grounds.”

He decided not to press her, and took her to the resting grounds.

She bid a faint farewell to the stag, and began searching for the seer, planning to search from top to bottom, north-east to south-west. She found the seer moments after starting to search, as the seer was at the top.

“Aah, you have returned, have you collected the essence?”

Hornet realized this moth must be blind, so she couldn’t get much help with determining what the dreamnail was.

“I am not the bug you think I am. That bug has left our plane,” hornet told the seer, “however, he did give me a task, and told me you could help me”

“Yes, the one you call Ghost is indeed no more, but he is not gone. I felt his presence throughout the dream realm. He will remain there for a while, I think,” the seer said, “but you cannot complete this task? You have the tools, but do not know what they are?”

“Yes,” Hornet replied, “how do you know?”

“I may be blind to this world,” the seer answered, “but I know how to peer into the other plane. It is a gift granted to only a few of my kind. I may not see your physical form, but I can see your dreams. The power of higher beings can blind even the best seers, but even to an experienced seer like myself, your light masks your dreams. The only way to differentiate your kind is the strength and color of your light. You and Ghost have nearly the same light, that is why I confused you for him. You may have more in common than you think, try to learn-”

“Yes yes,” Hornet interrupted, “but how do I break the seals?”

“Ah, ever the impatient one, the tool you seek is an ancient item from my tribe,” the seer pointed at Hornet, “Its dormant state appears as a simple dreamcatcher.”

Hornet brought out the item, surprised, as she had marked it off as a simple trinket. “This?”

“Yes, it is the dreamnail. A powerful tool allowing even a simple bug to cut the veil between realms.”

“But how do I use it?” Hornet asked, “There is no blade, no lens, how can this access the dream realm?”

“Slow down child, this is an artisan's tool—not a weapon. It takes a strong mind to utilize it correctly. You must draw it out, charge it, and strike at the dream you wish to see.”

The seer took the dreamnail from Hornet and demonstrated, slowly moving through each step, then gave it back.

“Now you try.”

It took several attempts, but eventually Hornet found the rhythm. She thanked the seer, and left to break the seals, starting with lurien.

“What is happening?” the stag asked, “you seem filled with a vigor I have never seen before”

“Take me to the king’s station. I am breaking the seals.”

She entered the dream of Lurien, which was a small platform, Lurien floating in the center. There were no visible walls, or ceiling, only dark fog. She tried to get his attention, and after many failed attempts she finally got results by mentioning the King. She told him the situation, and pulled him out. She left the spire without much talk, and took the stag to the Queen’s station. 

She left the queens station and traveled up the fog canyon. There are few places she had not visited before, but the archives is one. She found Monomon fairly easily, in the lower section. She entered the dream of Monomon and found herself in the same place as before, a small platform, the dreamer in the center. She called out to Monomon, hoping to get a quicker release.

“The Light is gone. Your task is completed.” …but no response. “You need no longer dream, you are needed in the kingdom. The seals must be undone!” still nothing. “Quirrel! He needs you!” This got her attention.

“Quirrel? He still lives?”

“Yes! He needs you awake!”

“But the seals must hold, the Light must be contained…”

“The Light is gone. Snuffed out by the shade.” She finally was able to pull Monomon out, and explain the state of the kingdom. “I believe Quirrel is at Dirtmouth, I think he would love to see you again.”

She left Monomon and returned to queen's station. She could barely remember her mother, other than as a sleeping body. She took the stag to her village, hurried to her mother, and dove into her dream. 

She never showed any emotion, she could not let anyone know her thoughts. She was the daughter of Hallownest, the last guardian of the kingdom. She could never be seen as weak. But in the dream, the only one who could see her was Herrah. When she saw her mother, alive, it all fell apart.

She had held herself together for many years, despite everything that had happened. When she said her last goodbye to her mother, she did not cry. When the infection broke free, she stayed strong. When Ghost spared Herrah, she said nothing. When she was given the tools to revive her mother she kept calm.

She could not hold it anymore. her eyes welled up with tears as she held her mother’s hands.

“I did it, mom. I-I know I-” she could barely speak, her voice struggling through years of bottled sadness. But Herrah knew.

“There there, dearest. I knew you could do it. I believe it is time for me to wake. I felt the Light disappear. You are a very strong girl, I knew I could trust you.”

They left the dream. Hornet went back to the stag to open the black egg, and Herrah went to assess her land. 

Chapter Text

This was it. She had nowhere else to run. No more dreams to run off to, no forgotten corner to hide. Now she was going to die, for real this time. The Shade Lord held her in one enormous hand, the others ready to strike. She braced herself for oblivion…

But…

It never came…?

Instead she found herself lying on the floor. She couldn't see. Is that all you planned for me? Simply to blind me? Wait. no. She was lying on her face. How embarrassing. She tried to rise up…but she didn't move. This was when she realized she wasn’t in a dream. And her body, the one she had crafted herself, was gone. Gone were her beautiful wing-tendrils, which allowed her to comfort all of her children at once, replaced with normal, boring moth wings. Gone were the ornate legs (that, if she had to be honest, were only aesthetic), replaced with a pair of thin, spindly legs. Gone was her radiant shine, left with only the faintest glow from her eyes. Now she looked almost like any other moth, save for the eyes and crown. Those remained the same, thankfully. She had not had a physical form since the Wyrm destroyed it - along with everything else she held dear - long ago. She held her arms up to see what she had to work with, and became acutely aware of another presence.

Now she had to take in her surroundings. It was a small chamber, with something hanging in the middle. She slowly brought herself upright, shaking her (at least somewhat useful) legs and fluttering her wings, but she found her balance quickly and walked towards the strange object. As she approached it she finally realized where she was. She was in the temple! More specifically, inside the sealed chamber within the black egg. She couldn't escape, and now the not-so-pure vessel was hanging before her. No matter, her influence over this one was stronger than all the rest. She simply needed to free it, and she could use its strength to break open the doors. All I need is something to break- ah! That will work! She picked up the nail and began striking the chains. It was hard work, but eventually they broke and the vessel fell to the ground.

“Right then,” she stated, “stand up!”

…but nothing happened.

“Rise!” she ordered…still nothing. She smacked its mask and shouted “I said rise you mindless thing!” but! Still! Nothing! Now she was angry. “Why are you not responding?” she shouted, “Obey my command! I OWN YOU!” Now it finally stood, took you long enough, rising high above her head. Yes, it should easily break down whatever that worthless Wyrm built to contain it. But to her surprise - and dismay - it took the nail out of her hand and hit her with it! “What are you doing?!” she yelled, “do not strike me! I am your god and master! You cannot defy me! How dare you even-”

“NO” it spoke, since when could they- “You have no power. You are but a small bug. You will listen to MY commands. Now shut up, and kneel.” she could hardly process what it had said before she found herself obeying! “Your power is gone, correct?” it asked, but she would not answer to a mindless construct of the Wyrm. then it grabbed her by the central horn and again spoke “what happened to you? Why…how are you here? The seals still hold strong, but something has happened…” but she ignored it. Why should she listen to it? Then it released her, finally, and continued talking, seemingly lost in thought, hah! As if! You have no mind to think! No voice…to cry…but you do have a voice don’t you. Of course, you were made by Him, obviously there would be faults. Then it wandered to the exit, stopped, and came back and grabbed her! (By the arm, but still!) There was something off about its voice. It had been ages since she had last heard a voice in the flesh, but there was definitely something wrong with this one. 

…

What…happened?

He died, almost. All that was left of him was his head. That was fine…it wasn’t fine, but he could deal with it. He had his head, and that was all he needed. He could regenerate, as all bugs can, but his was an incredibly strong regeneration. While most bugs could at best only regenerate lost limbs, even then it would take several molts, he could regenerate his entire body, without any molting required. It took a while, but he had done it once before, after a particularly messy encounter with a garpede mother.

Eventually his body returned…but…not quite whole. He knew his regeneration would bring him back to roughly what he was before, he had a broken leg before the encounter, and it returned. But this, his entire abdomen was mutilated, like something had burst from inside his chest, and his entire body ached. He tried to remember what had happened, but his mind was still sloshing around inside his head. He had a fight, clearly, what else could have caused this, a slip? Wait, he had a mirror, something to see what he looked like after particularly…interesting nights. It had broken, but he could still see his reflection well enough.

He wore what looked to be one of the King’s vessels, a pale mask with two thin horns curving upwards with a slight notch at the tips. But I have no memory of this vessel, how could I…wait…the infection . The King had failed to keep His mess in His territory and despite the mantis tribe controlling their connection to Deepnest, the other was left wide open. It had spilled into Deepnest like a flood, and with Herrah and the weavers gone, they could barely hold it back. He had…they… oh gods, I was infected wasn’t I? That explained his injuries, and his unknown face. He looked around and found even more destruction. His den looked like a horde of garpedes ran through it, strewn with bits of cloth, shell, claw marks, and his belongings. He looked up and saw countless dead bugs hanging from the ceiling. What have I done? He would occasionally hang a particularly large kill, as storage and as display, but he would only ever keep the finest specimens, and he would only hunt beasts! He never hunted sentient bugs, especially not his own people! But…there they were, countless half-eaten dirtcarvers, several vessels, a few weavers and even a devout!

But before he could take in all the destruction, he was overwhelmed with pain. Something had gone wrong with his regeneration, likely caused by the infection, and his whole body burned. He needed medical help, badly…but where could he go? The weavers left, and he lived far away from the village, so even if they had stayed he wouldn’t be able to reach them. Perhaps…I could…the mantis…whoever I wear… he slowly, painfully, retracted into the form of this unknown vessel. He could only hope it was someone the mantis respected. Either it was, or the bug entered Deepnest from above.  It was a small chance, he had no certainty if the mantis were even still there, but what other choice did he have? He could only hope…

He hobbled his way to the mantis village, crawling up and around the many tunnels that made up his home, avoiding the many spike pits and garpedes - injured, even - with the ease only true Deepnest bugs could. Then came the moment of truth. He could see the mantis lords, and prayed to whatever gods still remained that they would help him.

Fortunately, either some gods did remain, or he was just lucky. Probably lucky.

“Oh! The small knight returns”

“So he does!”

“Wait, is he?”

All four bugs dropped, the lords to their feet, Nosk to the ground.

“Oh gods, he's badly hurt!”

“Skyla, get the lifeblood. Freya, go get the doctor. I'll bring him in.”

The last one came and gingerly picked him up and brought him into the light, and he could only thank whatever god listened.

Freya climbed out of sight. Skyla opened a hidden door revealing a lifeblood cocoon, reached inside and grabbed a handful of lifeseeds. The last unnamed lord trying to find the source of the injury, while mumbling something about Deepnest being terrible. Hey! That's my home! We think you… oh, whatever.

“What happened to you? You look dreadful.”

“Here's the lifeblood Lavera, oh my! He looks half digested!”

Skyla gave Lavera the lifeseeds, who then broke them upon Nosk’s carapace. It felt good, he had never tried lifeblood. Perhaps he should try some more…later.

“Here, this will help the pain, but only just. Your wounds seem far too deep to be healed with lifeblood alone.”

“What now?”

“Now we wait for the doctor, I’ve stabilized him, but he’s in really bad shape.”

His disguise worked. But for how long? Surely the doctor would recognize his…everything as deepnest biology, and then they would kill him. They probably would do it correctly, too. He had no idea how long it would take for Freya to find this doctor. He had to act fast. if he came clean before the doctor arrived…

“W-waitt”

“Hmm?”

“So he does speak, hah! I win! You both owe me 500 geo!”

“Not now, sister, our friend needs us.”

“You still owe me~”

“I know! What is it, little knight?”

Did this bug not speak? Oh, right, it's not a normal bug. The vessels don’t speak. Fortunately it seems they don’t know that, if they did my cover would’ve blown just then.

“I’m… not…”

This was it. Either he continue and die now, on his own terms…or later, when they find out.

“F-friendh”

“What? What do you mean?”

“I'm…not…knight. From…deep…nest.”

They instantly got up and grabbed their nails. Well, I gave it a shot.

“Creature of Deepnest,”

Oh boy. Here it comes.

“You have come here intending to trick us into helping you. You have failed. You will find only death.”

She raised her nail, but was held back by her sister. Wait, what?

“Wait! Before you strike. Have you not felt it? The world has changed Lavera, and perhaps this, thing,”

ouch, cold as always, I suppose

“knows where our real friend is?”

At least the nail is down. But for how long?

“What if it doesn’t? What if it killed him?”

That…even I don’t know. Maybe I did…but still… ”yes! What…if I…do, know?”

“And how would we know you speak truthfully? You have already tried deceiving us once”

“Do I, look, like I, would?”

“Yes” / “Not really…”

“Regardless, what would stop you from stabbing us in the back the moment you are able?”

I suppose she does have a point there…um… ”ow?”

“Come on, look at it, does it really seem that big of a threat? Again, the world has changed. Perhaps we could gain from a truce with Deepnest…”

“What could we possibly gain from-”

“Silk! Weaver, silk, parch, ment! …and…please?” I can only hope they don’t know the weavers are gone…

“Look, I think we should at least hear him out. If you spare him, you’ll only owe me 100”

“You really won’t let that go, won’t you. Fine.”

Finally the third came back, with another mantis following. She saw the two, saw their nails, and asked, “what's going on? Is there something wrong?”

“No, nothing” / “It’s from Deepnest.”

“What?”

“You heard of the face-stealer?”

“Of course, but what…oh. And…that’s him?

“That's me!” though it’s not quite right calling it stealing…more copying.

“And we’re…”

“Oh, do I really need to explain it again? You felt it, the world has changed. So we-I decided it might be a good idea to try and make peace with Deepnest. Oh and also you owe me 500 geo.”

“Actually, we don't. It’s a different bug.”

“You sure? What if it was always this one? What if the real bug is long dead?”

“Unlikely.”

Then the doctor piped up. “So do I go back or are we helping this bug?”

“Fine, though I doubt his body is any similar to ours.”

“Eh, blood’s blood, shell’s shell. They might be a bit different in shape, size and color, but they’re all the same. He might have a bit more…interesting parts, but I’m sure it’ll be fine. Alright then, open up.”

Eh?

“Open up. This isn't your real shape, if you are indeed the face-stealer.”

Oh, right. Nosk slowly unraveled his body, and the doctor went to work.

“Oh my. This-this is-and the way it all tucks in-and you can change it too, and you can copy any bug! Incredible! You can copy any bug, right?”

“Most…some of the…much larger, and smaller, I can’t do. And it's mostly just looks. I can't copy skills, or knowledge. Sometimes it changes this form, too. There was this one bug-ow!-I copied her form, and I grew wings. Never thought to test if I could fly with them though, shame.”

“A real shame, if you could change shape and be able to fly, who knows what else you might be able to do with the right bug. Though, you might not be able to do it anymore…”

“Why?” Nosk looked down and almost had a heart attack! This bug was digging around inside his body! How had he not noticed?! There was a large chunk of his carapace completely removed just lying on the floor! “WHAT THE-!”

“Slow down, slow down, don't worry. I've merely removed a plate of your exoskeleton. This is completely normal and how I always do things. I wouldn't go running around like this, and you probably wouldn't want to get anything stuck in there, but it’s perfectly safe. It also helps when a patient's blood is failing to provide sufficient oxygen. All I do is sever the connections, and usually it comes right off. Sometimes it’s a bit fiddly, but it never hurts the patient and it always reconnects. Plus the lifeblood you were given helps a lot, I assume. I guess deepnest medicine works differently, I suppose I could learn from you…or, more likely, your people.”

“Yeah, the weavers usually just, use their silk and magic for…a lot of things, not just healing.”

“Anyway, it looks like you might have a problem, see this?” he pointed at something in his lower abdomen, tucked in the corner, “this is something I don't recognize, so I assume it probably has something to do with your…ability. It looks like it’s been crushed, and burned by acid, though I assume it’s something else. What have you been doing? Your whole body looks mangled, unless that’s just how it normally is for you?”

“No, it's not. I was…infected…I think”

“What do you mean? I’ve seen a few infected bugs, and the damage is similar, but none of them ever recovered. How did you…?”

“No idea, I just woke up in my den with no memory of recent events. I do know I was almost killed…was killed.”

“Now you’re messing with me, I can maybe believe you survived infection, but claiming you rose from the dead? Impossible.”

“Not quite. I was beheaded.”

“Still don't believe you.”

“I have incredibly powerful regeneration. As long as my head remains intact, I can regrow my entire body to…the average of what it was before.”

“Hmm, I suppose that does make sense. What do you mean by average?”

“Well, it’s happened twice now, once I had a broken leg before, and that came back, and this time I, well, I was infected. And all that came back.”

“Yeah, that does seem logical. A normal bug does take at least a few molts to regrow a limb, and I have had a case of a returning birth defect. Well, if that is the case, I don't think there’s much for me to do, you’re already breathing much better, and anything else should just fix itself. Hopefully, at least. Don't do anything too strenuous, you’ll want it to heal as quickly as possible. Eat well, drink well, rest well, all that.

Though I do want to have another look around, once you’re all…better.”

…

bury my mother, pale and slight,

bury my father with his eyes shut tight!

Bury my sisters two by two,

and then when you're done, let's bury me too!

bury the knight with her broken nail,

bury the lady, lovely and pale!

Bury the priest in his tattered gown,

then bury the beggar with his shining crown!

There was more to the song, right? The crystals, what did they say? How long have I been digging? Myla stopped digging. She put down her pickaxe, and sat down. “Oh, w-what happened?” her arms felt like they had been working for ages, but she only remembered digging for at most a few hours. Forget that, her whole body ached! The longest she had ever gone was half a day of non-stop mining, but she felt like she had gone a week at least! “I-I think…” she let out a long sigh, “I n-need a break…” she looked at her pickaxe, no one would take it, right? And started to walk home. She knew the journey by heart, but it felt…wrong. Has it always been this way? There was nobody around…nothing but the wild bugs…until…”oh g-g-g-gods!”

Corpses. Lots of them.

Broken shells scattered across the ground, something seemed to have torn them apart, from the inside. She started to run. This must be a bad dream this has to be some bad nightmare I must have dozed off in the- ”oh!” she bumped into something red

“Oh?”

“S-so s-sorr-ry I-I wasn’t l-looking I-”

“Sorry, I have to go.”

“Wha?” but before she could ask, the bug ran off…oh dear, she was not having a good day. She felt like she knew this bug, or at least heard of her. Red cloak…pale mask…protector…oh why can’t I remember? She tried humming the tune, mm-mm-mmm, something daughter…born of, something an’ someone…something about a needle and thread…something dead? Definitely something about horns… Maybe she could find it…later. She still needed to go home, it had been a long, long day. Or week. For all she knew it could have been months, or years!

No, she couldn’t think of that, not now. She just had to get home! But…she could hear something. Someone, multiple someones, was coming. She could hear their voices, oh gods what happened? Mumbling, tired, groaning, then she saw them. A group of other miners, trudging toward her. They looked terrible! She wanted to help her fellow bugs, but also, she was terrified. One of them saw her and called out, “oi! Help us out mate!”

Oh no. This can’t be. She knew that voice, and now, the bug they were carrying. They were friends, good friends, maybe even best friends. Now he was, and his buddies…she ran to help them, and to see if, maybe, just maybe, she was wrong.

She wasn't.

Her brother…was dead.

“Oh wait! I know you, Myla, right?”

“Y-yes. Is-is he? W-when d-did…did he…”

“Right, him.” They slowly lowered the body to the ground. “We couldn't save him, sorry love. We tried our best. We were hoping you were…I suppose there isn't much else to do.”

…

An unusual silence filled the air in the relic seeker’s shop. Not the rain, that was permanent, something else. He was working on deciphering one of Ghost’s many relics, when he sensed something just…disappear. Something he had found as familiar as his own heartbeat, tuned out in a way the rain never could. Now it was simply…gone. He got up, looked out the window, and listened. No doubt about it, something was missing, he just couldn't put his finger on it. 

Eventually, he did hear something, but not what he was looking for. Footsteps, coming closer. They were dampened by the carpets, slow and stumbling, but unmistakable. Someone was coming. He peered out the door and immediately shut it; there was a sentry making its way directly towards his shop, and his relics! Why didn't he have a nail? It was required of any bug who had any plans of living in this gods-forsaken kingdom, why didn't he ever just pick one up from any of the dead bugs he passed? Why? Because he had no need! He lived in his shop, he stayed in his shop! That was how he survived! On the rare occasion he craved something fresh, or needed fresh air, he would wait for the husks to calm down, and sneak his way up to the lake, or down to the memorial! He never, ever needed anything more than an umbrella! But now he was trapped. The husk saw him, and soon it would break down the door, and he would die.

Before he could think to block up the door, he was interrupted by a slow knock.

Tap, tap tap.

Then nothing…

Then again. tap, tap tap, tap.

Something was wrong, even if the husks did find his shop they never knocked…but there's a first time for everything, right? He tried to convince himself that this is just something new…just a husk…politely knocking at his door…but really? Is it even possible for something new to occur in this stasis? Some new ploy to get him killed, after so many years? Fine! I’ll check! If it kills me then fine! He opened the door just the tiniest crack, just enough to peek at its…clear black eyes. It wasn't infected. Well, there are new things…huh. He opened the door the rest of the way, and the sentry fell on him. He instinctively jumped back, nearly slamming the door on the bug. It-she groaned something, and he tried to help her back up. He never was any good with other people.

“Sorry, I thought you-you were-have a seat” he set her down on a chair. “How did you survive the infection?”

“I…didn't.” she mumbled.

“What do you mean?” he asked, “actually, don't answer that. Tea?”

“Yes please”

He went into the back and started the water. What did she mean? It’s not like she just…got better. She certainly looks like she got infected, or at least got attacked. What happened? …I haven't seen the little one in a while, I wonder where he is. Did he finally run out? I suppose there is a finite amount of relics in this dead kingdom, but he always seemed to have more… he was interrupted by the kettle, oh right. He brought out the two cleanest mugs he could find, poured some water in, and dropped a teabag in each. He always wondered what they were, but they were loose and he never found the box. It never bothered him much, they all tasted good enough and tea is tea. But now he wondered if she would think the same. If she didn’t like it, or worse, she was allergic (there was one flavor that gave him a terrible cough for a while, though it might have just been expired. Fortunately it was a unique color and he was able to throw them away.) there was one he had a slight distaste for, but it was nearly indistinguishable from another one that he found quite nice for sore throats. Perhaps one day he might find something that would tell him what they were. 

He brought out the tea, gave her a mug, and sat down. For all the things best done alone, tea was one of the few that were (at least a little bit) better with another bug. He had no idea why, but there was just something about it that made it better. Maybe it was just something about Quirrel, but whenever he had tea with him it just felt…better.

“So, what brings you here?” he thought for a moment, and after a sip he joked, “are you selling relics?” she didn't react, but he was never any good with jokes.

“I was wandering the city. I was scared, confused, alone. Then I saw you at the memorial. I followed you. I hoped you might have some answers.”

“Answers? What questions do you have?”

She set her mug on the floor. Did she really finish that quickly?

“More tea?”

“Yes please. I was wondering, what happened? Where did everyone go?” she paused as he went into the back to get more teabags. “How long was I…did I…”her voice trailed off as she realized she knew the answer.

“By the looks of it. Not sure how you came out of it, although…” he thought for a moment before saying “that's what it was!”

“What?”

“Earlier I was wondering, there was something missing, and now I know what it was! Footsteps!”

“I…don't follow?”

“The husks always wander about the city, but recently they stopped, or slowed, or something. Anyway your tea is probably ready. Should I start another one?”

“No I…think I’m good”

“You don't look good”

“I…I think I need to lie down. A lot has happened.”

Normally he would have told the bug to lie somewhere else, out of his shop. But today was certainly not “normal” so he brought out a pillow and let her sleep in the back.

Chapter Text

As Hornet approached the temple, she heard someone talking, two bugs were in there. One she had never heard before, but felt strangely familiar. It was a heated argument, but she could only hear one side. She entered the temple and saw the hollow knight, and a moth.
“Hello, hollow. Are you alright?“ she asked, but the vessel didn't respond. So that’s why there was only one voice. “Identify yourself, moth! Who are you and why are you here?” the great knight turned, grabbed the moth, and limped towards her. At this point she noticed the massive injuries covering their body; a crack along their mask, a missing arm, and large tears along their left side. They didn't show much pain, but she could see they were in agony.
They tossed the moth to Hornets feet and pointed, as if to say “ask her.” What? What happened? Clearly I’m missing something…she knelt down and lifted the moth’s head. She recognized the bug, but had no idea where they met, or how. Something about the eyes bothered her, like some long forgotten nightmare. She had only seen a few moths in her time, but none had horns like this one, or eyes, this was definitely not a normal moth. She was also covered in bruises. It was hard to tell under all the fluff, but she had clearly been beaten nearly to death.
She looked up at the vessel, then down at the moth, then back to the vessel. She had only been around vessels for a short time, and only in brief moments, but she was a fast learner, and she had learned to read what little they expressed.
The hollow knight radiated pure rage. She nearly dropped the moth when she was hit by the overwhelming ferocity of the vessel’s anger, but it was not focused on her. It was on the moth.
“Who is this?” she asked, fearful she might not like the answer.

To her surprise the knight answered in sign, stiff with anger, but unbelievably fluent, despite only having one arm.
“She is - or, was - the Old Light. She is the cause of our kingdom’s suffering. She is the cause of the infection. She is the reason both you and I were brought into this world. She is the cause of all the pain this kingdom has endured. She is why Father left us to die.”

…wow.
So that’s why they're so angry. And why she recognised the moth. And likely why she was so bruised.
“What are you planning on doing with her?”

They drew their thumb along their neck, scratching their chitin with the force of their anger. The message was clear.

Both Hornet and the radiance winced at the sound, they were filled with such anger and determination, like nothing could stop the vessel from having their execution. And all three knew how brutal it would be. The vessel did have plenty enough reason to be so furious, their whole existence has been focused on defeating her, and they never really did. That, and the pain she had inflicted on the kingdom as a whole was unimaginable. Even the vessel, with all their injuries, counted as one of the lucky ones.
“...I’m going to go to Dirtmouth, you should probably follow. We can decide what to do with her there.
They left the temple and went to Dirtmouth, the vessel dragging the Radiance by the leg. Hornet easily climbed the chain, while the knight slowly crawled their way up, carrying the unconscious Radiance. They reached the surface and were greeted by Monomon.
“At last! I knew you would come here eventually. Quirrel wanted to greet you as well, but he fell asleep.” she pointed a tendril towards the bench, where Quirrel was sleeping, then she noticed the moth, “oh? Who might this be? There are so few moths left, but I have never seen this one.”
“I believe you have,” Hornet said, “after all, she is the one you were helping to seal away.”
For the first time in her life, Monomon was confused. That can't be right, the Old Light was a creature solely of dreams, she had no physical form…unless…I suppose it could explain the disappearance of the plague, but it still has no explanation as to why…”are you sure? How did it happen? Where did this new body come from?”
“No idea, she just appeared outside the chamber with the vessel.”
“Of course, there rarely is any rational explanation when it comes to the dream realm, what are we to do with her?”
“Well, the knight clearly wants to kill her themself, but I think we should at least try to learn from her before letting them tear her apart.”
“Wait, hold on, what do you mean?”
“Well, oh right. The knight knows sign.”
Monomon stared.
“I have no idea how or why. Likely caused by the same thing that stopped the Radiance.”
Monomon sighed. Since when? I know I certainly didn't teach them. Quirrel might have, but he’s clumsy at best. And when? They were almost constantly with at least someone, where did they find the time to learn?
…
She waited. Neither of them said anything. Eventually the door would open, right? The vessel clearly thought so. It could easily have killed her. Why did it not? Was it waiting for an opportune moment? When they were alone, and she was defenseless? If it was, it was dumber than she thought. She watched it, and did not move. Does it even breathe? It must, but it's not moving. The temple was silent for what felt like eons.
Then something happened. A light shone from the other side of the door, and a seal broke. But it was only one of three. There were still two more, but it was progress nonetheless. The vessel stirred, but did nothing, said nothing. Then they waited once more.
Again a seal broke. But why were they still standing in the first place? The little vessel must have known the seals must be broken if it had to enter the temple…but it didn't, so the seals never had to be broken. Why? Then the vessel stood. It closed the gap between them in a single step. It grabbed her, lifted her up, and slammed her into the door. WHAT? WHAT'S GOING ON! WHY- again and again the vessel slammed her against the walls, into the floor, onto any hard surface in range.
She had felt pain before, but it was all emotional. She had not felt physical pain for as long as she remembered. This was different. It shot all throughout her body, her limbs as though they would tear off at any moment. Again and again she was thrown, each time a new surge welled inside her, never given any moment to rest, to think, to do anything.
Then it went black.
…
What is this?
She had been in many different states. Dream, physical, forgotten…but this was different. Darkness surrounded her, filled her lungs, swelled in her mind. Was this what it was like to be unconscious? Yes, she had been knocked out by the vessel. But why did it feel wrong? She would soon find her answer.
—FINALLY, WE MEET AGAIN—
She looked around, but could not find the source of the voice. It felt like it was coming from her, as if it was hijacking her own thoughts to communicate.
—FEAR NOT, I WILL NOT HARM YOU—
“Who are you? I demand to know what you plan on doing to me!”
—COME NOW, NO NEED TO GET HOSTILE—
“Answer me!”
Eight eyes opened directly in front of her face, filling her vision. She knew them, they were the one who had put them in this miserable state.
—YOU DO NOT HAVE THE LUXURY OF DEMANDS, RADIANCE. I SPARED YOU FOR A REASON. DO NOT. MAKE ME. RECONSIDER...—
…
When she finally came to, she was nowhere near the temple. She was in a hot spring. She tried to move, and was shot by another wave of pain
“Ah-ah-ah, no moving. You’re lucky to be alive, my dear, try not to waste it this time.”
A warm cloth patted her arms, another draped around her wings, another lay in her lap. Why did she recognize this voice?
“Come dear, there’s no need to be afraid. There is nobody around but you, and me. I will not hurt you. I will not forget you.”
“Who-?” her voice came as only a strained whisper, but the bug heard her.
“Oh, do you not remember me? Do not tell me your rage blinded you from the fact that I still remembered you…”
Her eyes opened, had they been closed? And she saw the warm eyes of the seer. Yes, she remembered now, one faithful moth that kept her alive.
“You…never…”
“No, do not speak, there is no need. I am here for you now, as I always have been. I never truly left you, how could I? The Wyrm may have swayed us, but I held on to you. Rest now, my light. Your days will be long and hard, but know that I will always be there for you.
So she did. For the first time since the Wyrm stepped foot in the would-be Hallownest, she rested. She soaked in the healing waters of the hot springs, and the seer hummed soft lullabies as she rubbed away all the worries. It felt nice. She would have to do it again sometime, and repay the seer for all she had done.
It did not last long, however. Eventually someone came in, and the seer stopped.
“Show her mercy, she did what she thought was best, as any bug would do…”
“I will, but I cannot promise the same for all the others, especially those hurt by her.”

She was taken to the stag.
In chains.
“Before we go to Dirtmouth, I will warn you, you are despised by many.”
“I know.”
“You will speak to the kingdom, I doubt anyone would miss hearing from you.”
“I know.”
“Do you have anything prepared? Something to tell them so they won't immediately tear you limb from limb?
“...no”
“I am giving you as much mercy as I can,” Hornet turned and looked the Radiance in the eyes, “choose, your words, carefully.”
“What choice do I have?”
Hornet grumbled something under her breath, and said “go back to the seer. Talk with her, and plan something. Anything! I doubt I can simply watch you being sent to die without regretting it.”
She looked at Hornet. What is she planning? Certainly she despises me as much as anyone else?
“Go! Before I change my mind! You may be the worst person I’ve ever met, but…” she sighed, “you’re still a person.”
So she went. She was not one to turn down an opportunity.
The seer was waiting for her.
“I am to testify to the kingdom. What do I say? What could I possibly say to redeem myself? I have done so much…how can I save myself?”
“The truth, my dear. Only the truth. If it is from your heart, they will listen. The gods have given you this chance, and I know you will take it.”
“But, what if you’re wrong? What if this is all just to bring me to my lowest before killing me?”
The seer chuckled. “Oh ho ho, my dear, when have I ever been wrong? Simply speak from your heart. Tell them the truth. Do not try to cover up what you have done, put it all out, show them how low you went, and ask if they will let you rise.”
Then Hornet came.
“Time to go. Hope you got everything ready.”
They hopped on the stag, and rode to what could only be her death.

The trial, if you could call it that, was held in Dirtmouth.

Everyone came to see it, at least, everyone who could (even some that could only make it if others carried them). Word spread faster than the infection. Even though the population was a tiny sliver of what it once was, Dirtmouth was full. Bugs of all shapes and sizes filled the canyon. They had to raise her up on a pillar just so that everyone could see. And see her, they did. All that was left of her. When she began to speak, everyone went silent. Though she barely raised her voice, it filled the canyon, echoing her words.

“I admit, I went too far. I was blinded by my anger. I thought, if He took my people, then I could take his…I realize now, I was wrong. I convinced myself that it was only fair, that He had to know how I felt. And through my action, countless innocent lives were lost, and those that remained were broken. But you all know that. I would like to share my side of the story.”
“I was but one god that occupied this region. I had made peace with Unn, the Root, the nightmare heart (my brother), and the void beneath. I had my little corner to myself. I had my people, they had theirs. Like any, I loved my people, dearly. I had loved them more than anything else. It was an age of peace. Then the Wyrm came, and within moments, everything I had fell apart. My people dropped me like a child introduced with a new plaything. They had loved me, as I loved them. But they completely forgot me in mere weeks.”
“I had tried to reason with Him, but He would not listen. I begged Him to let me keep my precious moths, even if only a small amount. I even tried speaking with Him in person, with my own physical form (it was very different to this one). He was waiting for me, I was glad, but then he killed me. Of course, you cannot simply kill a god by destroying their physical body, but the blow struck me at the core. I could not negotiate any peace. He would not share.”
“So I decided: if He would take my people, then I would take his. I suppose you know the rest. I tried to take His newly sentient bugs by force, and He tried everything to stop me. He even sacrificed millions of His own children, leaving only one.”
“But others did survive, sent out into the world, perhaps as a backup plan. One of which, the one known as Ghost, found a way to fulfill its plan in a way He could never imagine. The vessel found a way to kill me in my own realm. We fought, but it did something I still find unbelievable. The vessel somehow ascended into godhood.”
“As the newly born lord of shade, they had every power, opportunity, and reason to kill me then and there. But instead they sent me here, stripped of all my power.”
“Now I’m here, forced to be held accountable for my actions.”
“...I know I could never truly repay all that I have done, all the bugs I have killed, but to those of you that survived my blind wrath, I would like to say…from the bottom of my wounded heart…”

“I’m sorry.”

“Please…forgive me.”

Chapter Text

Silence.

Nobody spoke. Not a single sound was heard. It was deafening, as though some unknown force was drowning out all sound. As though the air itself was turned to stone.

Then a voice. A small, shaky voice, but in the silence it boomed.

“She’s right.”

All heads turned to an old ladybug, who was resting on the shoulder of another bug. She had faded red elytra with dark spots. She wore a shawl that may have at some point been a vibrant green with beautiful gold stitching, though now it was as gray as Dirtmouth and all that was left of the pattern was a few loose golden threads.

“I have had many of my children leave me, and each one broke my heart. I know that every one of you has lost someone precious. Would you not do anything to get them back? You would trade your life for your mate, sacrifice your soul to save a clutch, do anything if only for another day with your family…would it really be any different for a god? I think not. If what she says is true, then she has every right to do all she has done. She simply acted as a loving mother, and us lesser bugs were simply caught in the crossfire. Are we really going to punish someone for something we all would do ourselves if given the chance? Look at her! This is no raging monster, no wrathful goddess, but a heartbroken mother mourning the loss of her children.”

A murmur of agreement, then another spoke up. “Who cares? If she couldn’t hold on then that is her fault! A terrible mother, a terrible god, and a bug who has every reason to be executed! I’ll do it myself if UNHAND ME YOU MONGREL YOU CANNOT STOP THE GREATEST WARRIOR OF ALL LET GO OF ME DO NOT TOUCH MY NAIL IF YOU VALUE YOUR-” a snap echoed through the canyon. Lemm had lifted Zote up with one hand, taken the shellwood nail out of its sheath, and handed it to an orchid mantis, who snapped the stick with ease. He released the bug and scoffed, “worthless. You talk big game but really, you’re no more threatening than a tiktik hatchling. The fact that you survived a second in the corpse of this kingdom would be baffling, if you did it alone. Admit it. You would have died the moment you entered the jaws of that vengefly in Greenpath. Oh shut up of course I know about that. And Deepnest, and the Fungal Wastes, and the city, and the Colosseum. You have spent far more time being rescued or in need of rescuing than you have not. And yet you claim to have accomplished far more than imaginable if not for the fact that I know who actually did them. Alas, if only your ego was as valuable as its size. I would give everything in my shop for it. Thank you, mister…?"

"sharpbloom"

"I say we let the moth live, she certainly has done some terrible things, but our King has done far worse and we still worship Him as a flawless god. She certainly does not deserve forgiveness, not yet at least, but she does not deserve death either. I, for one, am leaving.”

He was the first to leave, followed by Quirrel, then soon the rest began to make their way home. It took ages, because only one or two bugs could fit down the old well, and there was only one stag left. Zote was the last to leave. Two sentries took him away, leaving the broken pieces of his nail, and pride, behind. Only Hornet, the knight, and Elderbug remained. Even the Radiance left, having gone to the resting grounds to be with the seer.

“Hollow, come with me, there are important matters we must discuss.”

They went to the house hornet selected for them, and right away she started talking

“Okay, I have a lot of questions for you, but they will have to wait. This kingdom is in ruin, and I have no doubt it will fall again if we don't do something soon. The people are scattered and dying. Of hunger, of thirst, by the wounds inflicted by the infection and by the wild beasts roaming the land. We need to figure out a way to keep Hallownest alive long enough for a new ruler to emerge. We- what is it?”

“(why not get Father? He would know what to do.)” they asked in sign, she still did not know how or why they knew it, but she was glad they did.

“We can't. He’s gone” she answered flatly. "Gone and left His kingdom to rot." She had no respect for her Father, though she understood why they would adore Him.

“(what do you mean, gone? He’s in the palace, is He not?)”

“Do you not know? He left, and let His oh-so-beloved kingdom to die.”

The knight got up and walked out the door.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

They turned around and quickly signed something, and she knew where they were going.

But she would not let them go alone.

They took the stag to the palace grounds.

…

No. no this cannot be, this has to be wrong. How could it happen? How did it happen?

The broken vessel collapsed to his knees at the ruined gate of the white palace, sobbing. He never knew about his Father’s plan, never thought his home could be taken away. Hornet sat beside him, saying nothing. She could do nothing to ease the pain, only provide comfort in her presence. She had never known the Wyrm as he had, and never will.

The silent child wept audibly. Not with a voice, but with a pitiful scratching sound from his mutilated lungs. Hornet placed her arm around his shoulder, hoping for anything to help her sibling’s suffering.

He threw his head back and screamed…but there was no sound. His cry pushed all sound to a screeching halt, as though his anguish rooted the molecules of the air in place. To Hornet, it felt as though her head had been plunged into the deepest pit of the sea. The difference between silence and void silence is small, but unforgettable. The sound of distant bugs scuttling, of her own body, her breathing and heartbeat, of liquid dripping from the ceiling, the stag’s rough breaths, everything that was once so miniscule it was barely noticeable, forcibly stopped.

The void silence lasted only a short moment. And the child fell into Hornet’s lap, his body shaking. She stroked his head for what felt like hours, whispering to her elder sibling. A vivid memory struck her, one she had thought forgotten…

…

A small red child raced through a palace of white, tears flowing from her eyes. Her sobbing echoing through the quiet halls. She was looking for someone she knew, the one person she had left she knew she could trust, the last good thing she had in this cruel world. She knew she had to bring the hollow knight somewhere alone, lest she be torn away from them. She could only get out a broken “follow” through her sobbing, but her half sibling knew what to do.

Once she made it to her bedchamber and locked the door, she fell into the waiting arms of the knight. She screamed into the silk cloak of the knight, squeezing tiny bundles of it in her fists, but the knight made no effort to stop her. After a while, she finally was able to voice her sadness, however incoherent it was. She told the knight how her mother was taken away, how she tried to stop them, how she was dragged away, kicking and screaming, how she hated her Father, how she hated the light, how she hated this mean, mean world and all the mean people in it. She swore vengeance against her Father, swore to make Him hurt like He hurt her, swore to do anything to bring her mother back, anything at all.

But the stoic knight did not move, did not react, only listened. That was all they did, and that was all she needed.

…

Now she was the stoic one. Hardened not by void, but by years of primal, primitive, unnatural survival. She was not plunged into the void sea as an egg, but she spent years without a single rest. She simply couldn’t. The constant threat to her life made sure of it, even if she found a safe place, she feared sleep, for she knew it was when she was most vulnerable. She was forced into solitude. She could never risk getting attached to another bug, she knew it would only serve as another weak link. She watched families get torn apart by the bodies of others, or worse, themselves. She carried the unborn corpses of her people away, and tried, and failed, to comfort the one who cared for her when she was a hatchling. She watched as the kingdom she inherited died.

But this time is different.

The threat of the infection is gone. The corpses finally resting, and the sick (relatively) healed. She could never fully understand her void siblings, but she had learned enough to know.

“Get up. You still have family.”

She pulled and pushed the knight up, and led him to the stag.

“We must go to the Queen’s Garden.”

The stag knew not to press at the sight of the legendary hollow knight stained with tears, he knew what was lost.

Traversing through the gardens was unusually easy. The overgrown thorns were a pain as always, but there was no sign of the mantis tribe. Huh, I guess they must be busy with caring for the wounded. Makes sense, I suppose. She did eventually encounter a mantis at the greenhouse east of the White Lady’s chamber.

The traitor lord lay in the center of the greenhouse, not moving, but watching them. She had not spoken with him for a long time, and they did not leave on good terms. She had to get past him regardless.

“Keiran,”

“Hornet…who is the tall one?”

“None of your concern.”

“What…happened?”

The question knocked her off guard, she was expecting to meet the same Keiran she left, but this was nothing like the old mantis. Before he was a proud warrior, headstrong and unwilling to compromise, the mantis before her was nothing like that. This was a broken man. His mask was stained with tears, hidden among the residue of the infection. His body was bloated by the infection, leaving him with a deflated look, and no doubt destroying his insides.

“I’m…sorry.”

This surprised her even more, the Keiran she knew never admitted a mistake, let alone apologised for one. 

“Bit late for that, isn't it. The only reason I am allowing you to live is because I made a promise.”

“I expect no less from you…are…are my people alright?”

“Not sure, I didn't see any on the way here. But they’re probably still alive, they’re a tough bunch, I’ll give them that.”

“good…good…and…Dryya?”

“Why do you care about her?”

“She…kept me sane. She was a great sparring partner. She helped me through some rough times, even.”

“You killed her.”

“What…?”

“You killed her.”

“Oh…and…oh…”

“Yeah. she’s gone. Because of you.”

“I’m…terribly sorry. I don't know what happened…I…what have I become…”

“I was thinking the same thing. What happened to the Keiran who defied his sisters? Who took no prisoners? Is…is it about her? Your…daughter?”

Silence.

“It is, isn't it. I’m vaguely aware of how much it hurt you, how much she meant to you. I think we all lost someone to the plague…I’m…sorry for your loss.”

“It wasn't the plague that took her. She- she took her own life. I couldn't save her. She, the light, She offered strength to save her, promised She could bring her back to me…but it was all lies. Lies to take me, lies to make me take the infection, lies to make me kill…to kill…I…I have no reason to live anymore. Everything I loved, my wife, my daughter, my own dignity…all gone. Do what you have to do, I cannot stop you.”

His body shook as he sobbed. Tears fell on the man who once saw them as weakness. Keiran was broken, physically and emotionally, torn asunder by the same emotions he felt. Pain, sadness, rejection, loss.

“You still have your people, those who followed you…”

Quietly, Hornet and the knight crossed the greenhouse to reach the White Lady’s chamber. Another wave of tears came at the sight of Dryya’s corpse, but she pushed them through.

When the two reached the center, it felt as though time stopped. The Lady turned her head to face the children, and despite her eyesight she knew exactly who she was looking at.

“So the sixth knight returns, after far too long. I assume you spent much needed time with Dryya? I know you two were close.”

“She’s dead, your highness. She died a while ago.”

“What? That cannot be, I thought…” the Queen dimmed, her power lessened far more than she thought. Her root senses had become limited to her chamber alone. “But, that must wait. Come here, child.”

Hornet approached her step-mother carefully, and sat at Her side.

“No, not you, dear. My child. Please, come closer so I may see you.”

The knight slowly took a step forward, and stopped. They had never disobeyed an order. They were meant to follow orders always, without fail. They were meant to be little more than a glorified kingsmould. To disobey a direct order was one thing, to disobey a direct order from Her was an entirely different thing. Their mind and body shook with conflict. It was an order. I was told to do something and I must follow. She cannot see me like this. Not Her, not HER, NOT NOW! DO IT! MOVE! DO AS YOU ARE TOLD She’s talking to me. She is asking me to get up I must do what is asked of me I cannot be seen like this why am I even thinking this I shouldn’t even be thinking at all I cannot move get up get up GET UP no no no I should never have gotten up I should have stayed down I should have fallen like the rest I should have at least taken longer than her she would have been perfect she was perfect she was what He was looking for He chose me He loved me He trained me He wanted me to be pure Father wanted me to be what I was not but I would make myself if He wanted me to but I failed I failed Hallownest I failed Him I could not make myself pure I should fall back into the void I should’ve stayed in the egg with her no she should have gone without me and reached Him she was perfect my sweet baby twin why did you come back to haunt me why did I leave you why why why why DO NOT THINK.

DO NOT SPEAK…

DO NOT HOPE…

DO NOT…

…

. . .

—YOU WORRY OVER NOTHING. YOU MAY THINK. I ALLOW YOU TO SPEAK. YOU CAN HOPE. YOU CAN DREAM…AND SHE NEVER STOPPED LOVING YOU—

…

He woke wrapped in the roots of his Mother. Hornet was resting on Her shoulder. She was speaking to him again.

“My dearest child, what troubles you? Is it your arm? Is it your mask? Please, my child, tell me what is…oh…right.” Her grip tightened a little as She silently cursed herself for following the plan. Then she froze. “Is…is that you, my child? Are these…your thoughts? How…who gave you this power? It certainly was not your Father, who could have bestowed upon you this blessing?”

It did not matter if it came from the damned moth herself, he was going to use it. He had bottled up everything with no way of relieving the pressure, and now this little opening is going to burst wide open. He told Her everything. Every last thing he remembered. Every court meeting, every stolen playtime with Hornet, every training session, every conversation he had overheard, every feeling he had hidden away in the darkest corners of his mind. And finally, he had someone who could listen.

…

Eventually, Hornet had enough. “If you two are done catching up, we have a kingdom to resuscitate.”

“Oh, yes. I suppose you want me to help? Unfortunately, I have waited here for so long, my roots have grown too much, and my strength dwindled. It would seem I am stuck here.”

“It would seem, yes, but any overgrown plant must be trimmed. Your kingdom needs you, and I will not let you shirk your responsibilities as Queen.”

Hornet unsheathed her needle and began cutting away at the weakest of her stepmother’s roots. She ignored the cries of pain. If she, and everyone else in this Wyrm-forsaken kingdom had to go through pain, she would not let Her avoid it. It was partly Her fault, was it not?

“Stop! You have done enough, child. Your blade cannot cut through those, you must pull me out.”

True, her needle could not cut the thicker roots. If I could, She probably would have been killed by some mad bug.

With Hornet braced against the Lady’s back, and the vessel wrapping their arm around Her, the pair pulled with all their might, lifting the earth around Her, pulling the ceiling of the chamber down. But it was not enough, She made no exaggeration when she said she was stuck. They could not pull Her out with their current strategy.

Through heaving breaths, Hornet suggested, “Okay, pulling, not working. Perhaps, one root, at a time?”

After a moment to catch their breath, they tried again. Slowly making their way across the floor, they pulled each root out, then they pulled out all the roots attached to the ceiling. Finally, she cut open the bindings wrapped around Her body.

“Should’ve done this first, you could’ve helped us. Regardless, now you have no excuse to not lead your people.”

“Thank you, my children. It has been too long since I stretched my roots. May I ask, how do I look?”

“Terrible. Like an overgrown mess of vines and roots. And that’s what you are.”

“Oh, my. I suppose I should expect nothing less from Herrah’s child.”

“Well it isn’t going to stop you. You look no better than your neglected kingdom. Now let’s go.”

Hornet pulled the Lady’s arm and led them out to the stag.

Seeing the trio enter the station, the old stag froze at the sight of the Queen, shook himself, and bowed as deeply as he could manage.

“Your Majesty! I did not expect them to find you! Please forgive me, where do you wish to go? I apologize, but these old legs aren’t what they used to be, so I may not be able to carry all three of you.”

“Rise, stag. I take no offense, we have all been through much, and I would not ask you to do what you cannot.”

“Take us to Dirtmouth.”

The vessel was the first to go, leaving Hornet and the Queen alone for a time.

“Why Dirtmouth? I doubt that little village is the proper place to lead the kingdom.”

“It’s the best place left. The palace is gone, the city is in ruin, the crossroads overrun with wild beasts, Dirtmouth is the only place left that’s central enough to have a chance at running the kingdom.”

“About that. How many, how much of the population is left?”

“Not much. When the infection disappeared, many bugs were too wounded by it to survive long. Those that could suffered from hunger and attacks from wild beasts. I tried to gather as much as I could, leading them to safer places, places where they could gather together, help each other, but I could not get them all. I had the strongest of them search for food, shelter, and other bugs, but I don’t think we can save them all. In total, I estimate less than one percent of the population survived.”

“Less than- how is that possible?”

“The infection only ever got worse. The dead refused to rest, killing the living. The people were driven mad. They killed each other, driven by the infection, and hunger. Most of the people in the city resorted to cannibalism. The scholars of the soul sanctum sacrificed hundreds, harvesting the poor bugs. The rest of the kingdom suffered similar fates. The colosseum also captured several of the stronger bugs, only to be killed in a mockery of battle. My people, those in deepnest, also were killed in droves. The weavers left to find another home, and the eggs left in hopes of continuing our tribe…were fed to the garpedes and dirtcarvers…by me. I…don’t want to talk about it. It broke Midwife’s heart.”

Hornet dried her eyes before they had a chance to tear, but the Lady knew. She too knew the pain of a dead clutch, the stench of rotten eggs, and the burden of cleaning it up.

“But now is not a time to dwell on the past. We must work hard to keep this dying kingdom from collapsing before it can even recover. And that starts in dirtmouth, where we can form our plan.”

Chapter Text

Herrah did not like her situation. She despised it. She hated the little Wyrm and His idiodic plan. Of course it failed, she had seen the one He called “pure”. The poor thing was so impure that the Wyrm Himself would have been a better pick, at least He didn’t have a heart. But she did go along with it, even if she knew it would never work. She did everything…

For her…

Her dear little Hornet. A sliver of hope in a dying world. She didn’t act like it, but she loved seeing Him struggle to contain the child. She never let Him know, but she shared in Hornets glee. Reading His letter describing His whole room flipped upside down filled her with pride. It broke her heart when she had to leave her, though. She knew she would be cared for, taught by Vespa herself. And no matter how hard that damn moth tried, she knew her daughter would survive. She knew she could not let the moth win. She stayed strong…

For her…

When Lurien broke, she feared the worst. But she held strong. She would hold the moth by herself if she had to. She was the Beast! She was only a lesser being, but she made even the Wyrm bend to her will! She knew she was strong, and she knew her daughter was stronger. She only wished she could see the day Hornet surpassed her. When Monomon broke, she was unfazed. She knew she could hold the line. She could hold the moth at bay for decades, all by herself! She would not listen to the moth. That moth could give her nothing! Nothing she could not take herself! 

Then she appeared. Her little red spiderling, all grown up, wielding a nail of light. She ignored it, thinking it was only an illusion. But then the illusion broke into tears, and she could not ignore it. Damn that moth, but she was not going to ignore her child’s tears even if it was an illusion! But it felt real. The tears wet on her shell, the voice she had never heard, but knew it was her daughter. She was no fool, but something about that nail made her think, could it be true? Could she really be here? She had no doubt that if it were possible, Hornet would be the one to do it. Damn that moth and everything about her, this cannot be a lie! Nobody would know it if she did fall for such a simple trick, really, so what did it matter? She would comfort this Hornet, for now, she would let herself think she was here, for now…

Then she woke up.

Gods and stars she WOKE UP!

It was real!

She pulled her daughter into a hug strong enough to kill a weaker bug, and Hornet returned the embrace.

“Well done, Hornet! I knew you would find a way.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t do it sooner…”

“Nonsense my darling, it does not matter how long it took, only that you did. I knew that Worm couldn’t hold the light forever. Now then, I assume you have someone waiting for you at the temple? You should go, I know how much they meant to you.”

“What about you?”

“I will be fine, I’m Herrah the beast, remember?”

Herrah nudged Hornet towards the stag station, and watched her leave.

“She’s more like her father…I hope she uses that strength…” she mumbled to herself. She began by heading to the nursery, where she hoped to find Midwife caring for the weaverlings.

She entered the chamber and found nothing. No eggs, no shells, no sign of life anywhere. Strange, have I slept for longer than I thought? She left to find Midwife, who was deep in her lair. Why here? You only go here when you’re worried…what happened while I was gone?

“Midwife? Are you awake?”

The centipede’s body stirred, but she did not face Herrah.

“Is…is it really you? I have waited long, too long. Could you really be back?”

“I’m here, look at me.”

More movement from the mass of legs, and the ever-smiling mask of Midwife appeared.

“No…it can’t be true…how…how did you break free?”

“Hornet found a way. I do not know how, but she pulled me from the eternal dream.”

Midwife’s mask opened to reveal the glazed over eyes of a bug who has lost hope long ago, “why do you torment me so?” her gaze shifted away from the bug she knew was gone, “you are not real. Another illusion to break me. I will not give in, I will not succumb to the lies…”

“I’m real, please, look at me. I am no illusion, the light is gone…”

“And so is our future!” she snapped back, “our lives stripped away! You weren’t there, you didn’t see the malformed bodies, didn’t smell the stench of infection, you didn’t, you werent…”

“But I’m here now, what happened to you?”

“I failed, Herrah! I- when she carried them off, I should have helped. I should have been the one- it's my job! I do it all the time! Why-  why did this one…why are you here. Leave me be. Let me suffer in peace.” she turned her face away, “let me die in peace…”

Herrah would take none of it, however. “Now listen to me, Midwife, listen to yourself. You cannot let this get the better of you! What decent midwife would shrink at the sight of a rotten egg? What self-respecting midwife would fear a dead hatchling? You’ve cleaned up countless failed clutches. You would eat them! I remember you happily gobbling up my first bad egg, what made you think they would be different? But if you want to sulk in your little hidey hole, so be it! I will go find our people myself.”

She turned and left, and Midwife retreated further into her den.

“What has gotten into her? I swear-” Herrah grumbled to herself.

She did a quick search of the weaver’s den, though there was nothing to be found. She searched the village, and found a few devout huddled together. She tried to get their attention, but only got a few looks her way. Strange, they always do as I say…though they are badly injured, I suppose they would be more inclined to care for themselves and their own…

She left the village and began making her way to Nosk’s den. She passed very few bugs, only seeing a few fleeing deephunters, deeplings, and the occasional garpede tunneling along their paths. She was unsure whether Nosk survived the infection. She knew she could rely on him for anything that required stealth, his shapeshifting ability made him invaluable, and his combat skill was greater than many of the kingdom's warriors. But was he strong enough in mind? Was he able to resist the infection as the mantis could?

She knew his hunting style, though hers was far more direct, but she knew he would not leave a good corpse untouched. Seeing all the unbroken husks nearing his den worried her. Had he succumbed? She examined some of the bodies and found no signs of the nosk she knew. They were all slashed, yes, but the cuts were jagged, uneven, almost at random…

She entered the den and stopped. So he had been, oh gods… Nosk would occasionally store a particularly rare kill, or a clean kill, or sometimes just one he hadn’t finished yet. He never had more than five husks in his den at a time. But now, at least twenty half-eaten corpses hung from the ceiling, more strewn across the floor, his belongings scattered among them.

But one body caught her eyes, an untouched weaver. She slowly approached it, as if it would crumble if she breathed too hard, and touched it. A dim light shone around the area she prodded, and she breathed a sigh of relief. “Good job, Mira. I knew you were a smart girl.” She untied the uncharacteristically shoddy knots holding the body up with her upper arms, the lower pair braced to catch it, and began the tedious work of undoing the seal Mira crafted around herself. Mira was the female to stay, bear young, and teach them. She was chosen for her skill in many fields, but most of all her mind. Her mind was honed to an edge far sharper than any nail or claw, far harder than any rock or shell, she knew Mira would survive anything the moth could throw at her, and she did. Mira was the first to master the shield spell, and although Herrah never mastered it to Mira’s level, she knew well enough to undo it.

It was a simple spell, in theory, but an incredibly strong one. Though there was something different about this particular one. The pattern of the silk along her body and the knots used… oh you erudite little spider! You’ve mixed it with a stasis spell, haven’t you! Clever, clever girl, I can’t wait to get you out so I can tell you how proud I am. Indeed there were traces of the stasis in there, which would drastically increase the time it would take to get her out of it, but she had plenty of time.

Slowly, carefully, piece by piece, she worked her way along the spell, opening up areas, moving stands to where they needed to go, all the while smiling to herself. She had chosen the perfect weaver. It took longer than expected, though she had not done such intricate work in a long time, but eventually she got it open.

“Ughhhh…my head…” Mira groaned.

“You’ve been upside down for quite a while, could that be the problem?”

“What…? Who…? Herrrah?”

“You’ve also been in a hurried stasis spell for a while, I know you can do better than that, Mira”

“Herrah, Nosk, he…I was…”

“Yeah, I figured he got infected, I just hope he’s still alive after that.”

Eventually, Herrah noticed a second bug in the den. A small bug, one with twin horns, dark eyes, and a blue cloak. She couldn’t help a feeling of familiarity, she had seen the bug before, but she wasn't sure where or when. Though, even with the unknown familiarity, she knew it wasn't the bug it appeared to be.

“Hello, Nosk. I’ve been looking for you.”

…

“So you want to establish peace between Deepnest and the mantis. What authority do you hold that could allow you to do such a thing?” Lavera asked, the others remaining quiet.

“Well, Herrah was the queen before…but she’s gone now. I was among her most trusted advisors, so I would assume I would be able to establish a peace treaty.

“Would that not fall to her daughter, Hornet?”

“If she were alive, yes, but I do not indulge myself in believing she could survive…”

“She did. She is up in Dirtmouth with the Hollow Knight.”

“I thought we were going to have a serious discussion? Why are you talking about fairy tales, the knight is a myth, or locked away somewhere…”

“I thought the same, until I saw it. They are indeed real and alive, as is Hornet.”

“Even so, I believe I still hold the authority to do this, so let’s just continue.”

“fine.”/”I guess,”/”yeah, sure”

“As representative of Deepnest and her people, I, Nosk, member of the high council, propose a peace treaty between our people and yours.”

“As eldest of the three, I, Lavera, lord of the mantis, formally accept your proposal. Our warriors will cease the killing of the people of deepnest, and our doors will remain open.”

“We will provide the bounty of the weavers.”

“No.”

“What?”

“No, you cannot begin trade just like that. Hornet must first best us in combat.”

“Wait, I thought she already did?”

“Yes, Skyla, she did. However, this is different, she must beat us to cement the peace treaty and allow trade to begin. However, as she did beat us before, and you are in no shape to fight, I will temporarily allow the peace treaty in her absence. For seven days. She must agree to the treaty, and beat us in combat, or it will be denied. You have seven days. Now go.”

Nosk did not spend any more time than absolutely necessary. Knowing the mantis, he would have been executed were he to attempt to stay. Getting hornet to do it was a problem, however. He would not be able to make the trip to dirtmouth for a few days, and he was only granted seven. He decided to go on the sixth day, giving him plenty of time to recover, and hopefully enough time to convince Hornet. He still hadn’t told them about the lack of weavers…

When he was only a few moments away from his den, he heard a voice. Strange, who could possibly be in my…oh…I’ve gone insane, then. I suppose I would have negative effects from regenerating while infected, I guess I just thought they would manifest sooner. Herrah’s voice came from inside his den, but he knew there was no way she could actually be in there. She was gone! I watched her sleep, guarded her to the last, she could not have just…woke up… he peeked around the corner and saw her, turned away from him, holding something. Yup, hallucinations, no other explanation…though…if it was… he sat down and watched as Herrah fiddled with the thing he could not see. He watched for a long time.

Eventually she finished whatever it was, and she began talking. So it was a weaver she was holding, must have been the one I tied up. At this point he had begun to accept the fact that Herrah was alive, and realized what it meant. I have to get Herrah’s approval. Oh gods… he started panicking. He might be able to convince Hornet, but Herrah was not going to approve of his actions, she had made it clear that the only pact between them was the defence of the eastern entrance, nothing more. He had made the suggestion to save his own chitin, and now it was coming back to bite him. He knew it would, eventually, but not this quickly. I should have just accepted my fate, the mantis lords would have done it quickly. She certainly won’t grant me that mercy. Oh gods what do I do? He briefly considered running away. To hide away in his unknown form and make a new life for himself. Maybe find the weavers, wherever they might be. But no, he was not a fool. Herrah would learn of his actions and hunt him down, and then he would suffer the full wrath of the beast.

“Hello, Nosk. I’ve been looking for you.”

Well, too late now…

“Herrah! You’re awake!” he said, his voice only slightly shaking.

“All thanks to Hornet, yes. Now tell me, how did it happen?”

“...what?”

“Your infection, I want to know when and how. And how many we lost.”

“I…don't know, my memory is a little fuzzy there…”

She sighed and shook her head, “yeah, I suppose it wouldn't be that easy. Do you know what happened to the others? How much do you remember?”

“Fang was the first to go. He went mad shortly after you were sealed. We kept our distance after that, hoping to prevent spread…I know Crila and Lit’thar were lost too, but I don't know when…that leaves me and Mira as the only survivors of the council.”

“And Hornet?”

“She rarely visited. She had the whole of Hallownest to protect…”

“What of the others? Those who stayed?”

“Almost all perished. When the western entrance was breached, the plague spread rapidly, we were overwhelmed.”

“And that is when you fell?”

“I assume, yes.”

“What of your new form? I feel as though I have seen a similar bug before.”

“A vessel, most likely. One of the Wyrm’s void-borne spawn. I have no memory of it, though I can assume it is the one that killed me.”

“A vessel, huh? It does bear semblance to the young Hollow Knight. Though I can't shake the feeling that I have seen it before…”

“That would be impossible, they only escaped the prison the Wyrm held them in after you were sealed. How could you have seen them?”

“Perhaps in dream?”

The two turned to look at Mira, who then elaborated.

“The old moths did have strong connection to the dream realm, likely due to their gods being of that domain. There are records of a device that could pierce the veil between the two. With the disappearance of the plague being, as I see it, sudden and unexplained, perhaps such a device was found and used to defeat the Old Light directly. Likely one of the vessels, if not the one Nosk bears. Hornet did always call the Hollow Knight her sibling, and if she currently possesses the device, perhaps she could be the one who did it, though I personally doubt it. She was not bathed in void.”

“And when did you figure this out?”

“As you were talking, I still don't know how she obtained the device. Such a thing is far too valuable to give away, even to one bound by blood. Unless the value was unknown, but even a vessel would recognize the inherent value of a tool capable of piercing the veil…”

“We could ask her, she is currently in Dirtmouth.”

“How do you know?”

“…someone told me.”

“Your hesitance incriminates you, Nosk. What did you do while I was gone.”

“I…made an offer…to save my chitin?” his voice rising in pitch as he spoke.

Herrah raised herself to her full height, towering over Nosk’s small form. She knew he had done something wrong, enough to make him afraid, and she would find out exactly what he did.

“What. Did you. Do.”

“He tried to offer a peace treaty.” Lavera said, leaning into the den. “I knew it was a lie to save himself. I wanted to see how far he would take it.”

Herrah grabbed Nosk by the throat, lifted him up so that their masks nearly connected, and whispered, “I will deal with you later.” and tossed him aside. “Who told you?”

“Hornet came by and told us what happened. I thought I would find you here, I was correct.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Long enough to know his offers were baseless.”

“And what were those offers?”

“A peace treaty, along with weaver silk, I assume. Though I only see one weaver. We offered access to our farmlands and safe passage through our domain.”

“And your terms?”

“Your leader must best us in combat. That was Hornet, though now it is you. I assume you decline, as usual?”

Herrah thought for a moment, then replied, “actually, no. I accept your terms.”

“Really? I thought you would deny it out of principle.”

“I would, normally. But much has changed, I doubt we can survive without external support. Besides, you never fully joined Hallownest. And Hornet would eventually have to choose between me and her father.”

“Interesting…when would you like to have the duel?”

“Not now, but soon. Would overmorrow work?”

“Yes. Though to be honest, any day would work.” 

Chapter Text

“I suppose I’ll start with the big one, what was it like? Being a god?”

Quirrel sat at his desk, eager to write down anything and everything the former god had to say. It was not often one had a chance to get a first hand account of Hallownest’s history. To have one who played such a major role was a rare delight, one who knew of those prior to Hallownest, unheard of.

“It was,” the moth paused, “not…easy to describe with mortal words, but…like having incredible power, I could see things that lesser beings could not imagine, every sense was tuned to perfection. I…really cannot describe it any better, unfortunately. Especially since I am no longer a higher being.”

“Well, what of the ancient moth tribe? How did you rule, and what were your relations with the other tribes and gods, such as Unn?”

“We had our place, they had theirs. We had a mutual agreement to not cross too far into the other’s land. My tribe, I loved them. We were a peaceful people, who cared deeply about the connections between this realm and that of dreams. We mostly ate what we grew ourselves, fruits, vegetables. Animals were seen as equals, not resources to be made useful. It was a very close society, everyone had a good idea of what everyone else was doing. If someone needed help, they knew they could rely on those around them. There were a few, chosen by me, who would become seers. Moths with particularly strong connections to the dream realm would have that strength empowered, and taught how to read it, and how to predict things to come.”

“Like the Wyrm’s foresight?”

“No, not quite the same. It was far less…precise. They could tell roughly what could happen, but the future is always in flux, the farther you want to see, the harder it gets. It was mostly emotional things, as that is the easiest to read. Stuff like who they would fall in love with, who would hurt them, who might be able to help them best, where and when were harder to find. Simple things, really.”

“What about your brother? You mentioned you had one, where is he now?”

“You know him as Grimm.”

“Him? But he’s…”

“Yes, he is now. That was my doing.”

“Why?”

“He sided with the Worm, and…I tried to stop him…”
There fell a silence between them. It was a terrible thing she did, made worse by the fact that she had loved him. Quirrel had heard very little of the event, but he would not pry. He knew there are lines that should not be crossed. Eventually the silence was broken by Monomon, who had arrived late to the meeting.

“Sorry for my tardiness, I had an unexpected meeting with Herrah.”

“No worries, we’ve only just begun.”

“Ah, good. Just one question and I’ll hand it back to you. Radiance, it feels odd calling you by that name, seeing as how that was your god name. Do you have any other name?”

“Yes…long ago. Senna. I chose it in my early days, I combined words from two languages I had found in my travels. I don’t remember which ones or where, but one of them meant light, and the other meant dream. I thought that, since those were the two domains that I ruled, it would be a good fit. Grimm had one, too. I think the first syllable was the same, sen. I have no memory of what it was, he changed to Grimm fairly soon after.”

“Would it be appropriate if we called you by that name? It feels much more natural, the radiance was more of a title, wasn’t it?”

“...yes. Senna will work. Thank you.”

“Okay then, Senna, I have some new questions for you. What stories do you have of the other kingdoms? As an adventurer at heart I love stories of the wider world. Do you have any that you remember?”

“Yes I…there was this one Wyrm who I would visit frequently. Nasa, I think His name was. He had, similar to your King, shed His larger form in favor of one much smaller. It was a magnificent form, one built for the sole purpose of research and discovery, though He had a way to make it beautiful. The wings were something to behold, it appeared as if it were made of the cosmos itself. He had no intention of building a kingdom, however. He had searched for quite some time, if I recall, for somewhere far from any other kingdoms, or potential ones. He made his old form into a tower, deep in lands where no creature would consider making permanent settlements. He claimed the sky was His domain in jest. Though, in a way, it was true. He would spend centuries at a time in His tower, watching the stars. Leaving only for a decade or so to bring some new discovery to the rest of the world. He claimed He was the reason we measure time in years, that He was the one to discover other planets in our system, that He was the first to predict an eclipse, that our world is finite and spherical, that there are other inhabited planets out there. I believed all of it. He was far older than I, more than any of the gods you know.”

“Fascinating, I suppose we all took that knowledge for granted, never even considering someone had to theorize it in the first place.”

“Yes, many people did, He didn’t mind. He knew lesser beings would forget the specific person who introduced the idea, He only cared that they remember the idea.”

“Do you know where He is?”

“No. His tower, yes, but I have no way of knowing if He would be there.”

“Well, where is the tower?”

“I have no idea.”

“What? You just said you knew its location.”

“A method of finding it, yes, but I have forgotten where exactly. I used to visit him fairly frequently, but once I had found my people, the visits slowed. He would still visit, though, when he had knowledge to share. He gave me a kind of compass to find him if I ever forget.”

“Do you know its location?”

“I hid it when the Pale King arrived. I had a statue built in my image over it, hoping that would preserve it. It should still be at the top of Crystal Peak.”

“Up in Hallownest’s crown, eh? Hmmm, I suppose I could try again at reaching it…”

“I recommend against it, the path is filled with jagged crystals, cramped tunnels…really, it would be much better to fly there.”

“...I don't have wings, Senna”

“Oh! I…didn't know, sorry.”

“No worry. Though, at this point my curiosity is piqued, I have to know what’s up there. If only there was a way up the outside. You could carry me, but I doubt you have the strength…someone else could…no…I could…no, that wouldn't work…you could go up there yourself with some rope, but where would we find enough to reach the top?”

“Excuse me,” Monomon interrupted Quirrel’s musing, “but do you really need to climb the whole thing all at once? I don’t doubt you are capable, but would it not be much easier to do it in steps? If you were to find a decent length of rope, Senna would be able to fly it up a moderate height, anchor it in place, and you could climb partway up the mountain. Then you could release the rope, and repeat the process. I believe Cornifer had some lying around from one of his previous adventures. I’m sure he wouldn't mind if you were to borrow it for a while, he might even want to join!”

“Well, I suppose that settles it! We’ll take a short break in the interview to see if you still have the compass!”
Quirrel leapt from his seat and ran to the neighboring house, where Cornifer and Iselda lived.

“Well hello to you too, Quirrel! My, what’s got you so excited?”

“Senna and I are headed to the top of Crystal Peak! Do you have rope we could borrow?”

“Senna? Who is she?”

“The radiance’s name. Do you have rope?”

“Yes, yes, it’s in the back, I’ll go get it. That’ll be 60 geo.”
Deflated a bit, Quirrel dumped his pouch onto the desk and began counting. Then Iselda came back with the rope.

“I suppose Corny would love to join you, though, as you can see, he isn't going anywhere soon. Here you go.”
He took the rope and returned to Senna, and the two began their journey to the statue.

“It’s been too long since my last adventure! Ah, the thrill never gets old!”

“It couldn't have been more than a month ago you were exploring Hallownest, it was only a few days ago I was freed. How long is too long for you?”

“Well…yes, I suppose it was only a month, but I had assumed I would never leave again…I had planned on…but Ghost found me before…I stayed with Sheo for a time, then I worked with Lemm…but let’s not dwell on the past, now it is time to climb this mountain!”

Senna took the rope and flew up until she heard Quirrel’s voice announcing the end of the rope. She quickly found a suitable rock to anchor the rope to, and realized she didn't know how to tie a knot. Reluctantly, she flew back down.

“What's the problem? Is there nowhere to tie it?”

“No, there’s good places. It’s just…I…I don't know how.”

“How to what? Tie a knot? Alright, I’ll show you how. There’s a few different ways, I’ll teach you the one I use”
Then, with newfound confidence, she flew back to the rock she spotted earlier and anchored the rope. She called down letting Quirrel know it was safe to climb up. Then he braced himself against the rock while she flew up in search of the next point. The process was repeated five times after until finally,

“This is the last one! It’s anchored to the statue!”
Quirrel did not respond until he too reached the top, panting.

“Phew! Thought it…would’ve been easier. Wow!” He sat at the edge and looked down at the small town. “Dirtmouth looks a whole lot smaller up here. I’m going to take a moment to catch my breath.” They sat together, looking out beyond the kingdom to the wasteland surrounding it. “Who would’ve guessed there would be a thriving kingdom here in this desert? Well, it isn't now, but…all the other places I’ve visited were in much nicer places. I see why He put most of the kingdom underground, not much to see up here. I wonder how much there was here in the beginning? All the colors, wonders, and beauty down beneath the dull surface. Even this mountain hides its color, all the shining crystals are buried. Speaking of, did you have any part of creating the crystals? There are rumors that they hold some of your power, that they sing with your voice.”

“I suppose, they weren't there when I first came. Perhaps they fed off of me? Whatever the case may be, I didn’t do it intentionally.”

“We made tea from it. Someone found that if you crush the crystals and sit them in water for a while, then remove the crystal chunks from the water, it helps you sleep far better than any other remedy. Supposedly it also promotes good dreams. Makes sense, knowing they are connected to the dream deity. Funny, it was made illegal the second the infection began to spread. I think I’ll have some tonight. I did enjoy the…not taste, texture? No, it wasn’t any different to all the others, not sure.”

“Good to know I wasn't all bad, apparently I made good tea. The stars are also quite a sight.”

“Stars? WOAH!”

Quirrel nearly fell over backwards, staring agape at the millions of stars flooding the sky.

“How have I never noticed! What? When? Wow!”

“Yeah, they are pretty…pretty. I guess when the Wyrm shrouded the sky he forgot to add stars. That and it’s a clear night, and we’re away from any lights, and we’re up on a mountain so there’s less atmosphere, you can see a lot of them.

“wow…I gotta go up the other mountain sometime. But I didn’t climb a mountain to look at stars…no matter how amazing they are…let’s go get the compass.”
They both got up and walked to the statue.

“If it’s still here it’ll be in the head. There was a mechanism that opened the eyes. I…don't remember where the button was.”

“Wow, this is…wow. All this hidden away at the very peak of the mountain.”

“Yeah, pretty sure this is all that’s left of my tribe. I hid it well, and so is the switch…”

“It’s beautiful, it’s so…different, from the rest of the kingdom. I suppose it isn't really part of the kingdom. How is it glowing? How is it…still, glowing?”

“Enchanted, it’s a record of our tribe. A seal is much more permanent than any stone carving. Especially since it’s constantly exposed to the weather, we needed something durable. If the mountain falls, the stones will survive, as will the carvings.”

“Amazing! To think such technology existed so long ago…with such primitive tools-”

“Still here, you know”

“Oh! Sorry, I…didn’t know how advanced society could be so long ago…”

“Not really, this kingdom is quite young, compared to the rest of the world. Even the ones before me, those that worshiped the void, were by far not the oldest. There!”
A click sounded from the base of the statue, and the grinding of stone long unmoved in the head, and the eye opened. She pulled out a small, smooth stone, and hopped off the statue.

“This is it. The compass He gave me.”

Quirrel looked at it, puzzled.

“How? There’s no pointer, no markings, how can it possibly tell us where the tower is?”

“You’ll see. Take it, move around a little.”

She handed him the stone, and as it moved, it began to glow slightly.

“Woah, what?!”

He moved in the direction she passed it, and again it glowed slightly.

“Woah! What!?”

Not only did it glow when moving, it also became lighter, and vibrated. He walked a broad circle and found the strongest reaction facing roughly north, northwest.

“That’s where the tower is, I do remember it being in that direction.”

“Incredible! How did He?, nevermind. Do you remember how far it was?”

“A few day’s journey. Though at the time, I could fly quite a bit faster than I can now. Also I was flying. So maybe…a month? Roughly? Not sure.”

“Ah. That is, unfortunate. I have gone on long journeys, though most of the time it was on roads. What…what is that?” He pointed at a faint light, “over there.”

“Travelers, it's been a while since I’ve seen any come this close.”

“I think they’re coming closer. But, the rest of the world still thinks the kingdom is still under quarantine, why are they here?”

“Should I go check?”

“What? Oh, yeah, definitely. I’ll wait here.”

“Alright, don't go anywhere.”

Quirrel laughed as she dove down, then turned his gaze to the sky.

“Not like I could”

Senna flew down and landed far enough that they wouldn’t see her. She then walked the rest of the way. The group jumped back when they saw her, and those carrying torches pointed them at her as weapons.

“Move no closer, stranger! Who are you and why are you here, at the fallen kingdom?”

“Well, that is definitely not the best greeting I've gotten, certainly not the worst, either. I could ask you the same thing.”

“We are weavers, we are here on pilgrimage to our homeland. Now who are you!”

She thought for a moment. It’s not like they would know my name, to them I'm just a moth. “I am Senna, of the ancient moth tribe. I…live here.”

They retreated further, covering their mouths.

“Do not spread the infection! You should know the danger! Why do you come close?”

“I’m not infected. It’s gone.”

They lowered their hands cautiously, “how can we trust you?”

“because…I know your queen? It’s Herrah. And Hornet’s her daughter.”

“What? How could you know? They would have died long ago! Who are you! Answer truthfully!”

“I…was a higher being. The goddess of the moth tribe. The Radiance. But not anymore, now I’m just Senna. Oh also they’re still alive.”

The weavers stood silent for a while, taking in the information. “That…can’t be. You’re lying.”

“No, it would be nice if I was, but no. Everything I have said is true. I’m sure they would be overjoyed to see you. I would accompany you to the entrance, but I left someone on top of that mountain. It’s just beyond the mountain to the right, can’t miss it.”

“No. we will wait here while you get Herrah and Hornet. Then we will believe you.”

“Alright, fair enough. It’ll be a while, when are you leaving?”

“This time tomorrow.”

“That’s plenty enough.”

Senna flew back up to Quirrel.

“Took you long enough, so who were they?”

“Weavers, I told them I would bring them Herrah and Hornet.”

“Woah! I thought they died?”

“Not all of them, some left to find a new home. Let’s get you down so I can get the Deepnest royalty.”

Chapter Text

There are many different civilizations in the world, Hallownest is by far not the first. It is, however, one of the few made by Wyrms. One of its neighbors is a desert empire called Egypt. It was founded by an ancient pantheon, who brought sentience to the many diffent creatures inhabiting the land, including reptiles, bugs, and some other creatures that moved in from faraway lands. It is fueled by trade, importing many goods from other kingdoms, most notably Hallownest. When the infection began to spread, Hallownest was cut off from the rest of the world.

Mostly.

One of Hornet’s tasks as protector of Hallownest was to inform travelers of the quarantine. After a few months, nobody else came to the desolated kingdom. Except for one person. A naga from Egypt named Kaa. She came every year to inform Hornet of the date. Over time, they built a close friendship as it was unlikely that the infection could spread to other kingdoms, due to the nature of its creation. It would usually take a few days for Hornet to come to the edge, so Kaa would always be prepared to camp for a fortnight. The longest she ever had to wait was twenty five days. Hornet would come roughly once a month.

This time she waited six weeks without Hornet showing up. Kaa was getting hungry. Really hungry. She could easily go three weeks without food, being a snake, and Hornet would always bring food with her, so she never really needed to worry about going without food. She might be able to make it back to Egypt before dying…but she was always a bit spoiled, and had never gotten this hungry before, and it would certainly take her more than the typical two weeks to get home. In her panicked mind, she decided it was better to risk infection than go without food another minute.

There were plenty of wild beasts to feed on, but one species had particularly hard shells, two others had spikes on their shells, and the last had wings and long, sharp jaws. Hoping to find something more edible, she continued deeper into the kingdom and eventually saw a large figure sitting by a fire. Cautiously, she approached the bug. However, the smell of cooking meat threw off any hope of caution and she sprang at the fireplace where two tiktiks were roasting. The bug got up and blocked her far faster than she thought possible, then spoke to her.

“Well, looks like I got a visitor. Ho ho! If you’re that hungry I suppose I could share, though you will have to wait for it to cool down, at least!”

He removed one of the tiktiks from the fire and placed it near her, then sat back down.

“It’s still boiling, don't hurt yourself. You’re not from here, are you?”

“No…are you…sick?”

“With the plague? No no, you have no need to worry. It’s gone now. I only found out a week ago, apparently the radiance got…kicked out. Now the plague is gone and the god responsible is living out her second chance. Poor thing, all she ever wanted was peace for her people. I believe she’s living with the seer now. They’re the only moths left. Oh! I haven't even introduced myself! My name is Mato, I live in that cave over there. I have a house there, I don't just live in a cave, if you were wondering. Who are you?”

“...Kaa. I come from Egypt, one of Hallownest’s neighbors. I came here to meet with a woman named Hornet, do you know where I might find her?”

“Oh? So you’re Hornets friend? She comes up here every once in a while to meet with someone, guess that’s you. No, last I saw her was at the trial, but she’s probably down in Dirtmouth with her sibling. I suppose you could start there, after you eat. Not yet, it’s still too hot! Dirtmouth’s just over that hill, there’s a cave that leads to the town. I’ll show you once we’re done eating. How long have you gone without food, anyway? The way you look at that tiktik is as if it was some kind of divine savior.”

“Four weeks.”

“FOUR WEEKS!? How are you still alive?! You wait here, I’ll get you something to eat right now!”

He jumped up and ran off, coming back with another tiktik.

“Take this, you can eat them raw.”

She looked at the twitching body in her hands with displeasure, and ate it.

She then immediately coughed it up, sputtering.

“Well, yeah. You’re not supposed to eat the whole thing, especially not all at once! What were you thinking? Or are you just that hungry?”

“(cough) I’m a snake, I eat my food whole. Usually it doesn't have a shell, or spikes.”

“No way, how could you fit it all in your mouth?”

“You want to know? Most people unfamiliar with my kind find it frightening.”

She opened her mouth as far as it could go, and Mato’s mouth opened almost just as wide.

“How…what the…that’s just, unnatural. There’s no way that’s normal!”

“It is. I can eat anything up to about…your size. I can show you, if you want.”

“Gods no! But I believe you. Here, I’ll take the shell off for you, so you can…eat it whole…or…well, at this point the one I gave you should be cooled off enough to eat, and mine is a bit overcooked, whoops.” he took his out of the fire and began peeling the shell off her tiktik. “I suppose I should cook this one so it doesn’t rot, shame it was killed for nothing”
“Is it? I saw plenty on the way here…are they dying?”
“Well, yes and no. Most of them are hurt in some way by the infection. A lot of them died when it disappeared, those that remain are struggling to live. I’ve taken to helping them how I can, but a bug’s gotta eat too. I take the ones that are too damaged to live much longer. I just hope my appetite isn’t too big for the population.” he chuckled, then looked away. “That…is less of a joke than I would hope. They haven’t laid yet. I’ve stumbled upon one courtship, though it didn’t succeed. I try to pair them, try to get them to do it. But you know what they say, you can lead a stag to water, but you can’t make him drink. I might have to lay off the meat for a time, at least until I find fertilized eggs.” he looked back to find Kaa staring at him. “Oh, yes, here you go. I got most of the shell off, you should…okay then…”

he could not take his eyes off the bulge moving down her chest, it just felt so…wrong. Chitin does not move under normal circumstances. When it does it’s either still soft from a molt or horribly damaged from the infection. Either way, it is a very private thing. Kaa, however, was not a bug. She did not have a protective shell, she had scales. Similar, but oh so different. Her skin could stretch to an alarming degree to accommodate her diet of whole beasts.

Up to his size…

I’ve got to think of something else, something other than that…thing. “Oh, that’s right! You were looking for something, yes? What was it?” that’ll have to do, anything but that!

“Oh, right, yes. I was looking for a woman by the name of Hornet. You said I could find her in a town called…Dirtmouth? Was that the name?”

“Yes that’s right, I had nearly forgotten. I do apologize, I will take you as soon as I finish my lunch” he grabbed the tiktik and started eating, trying not to look at Kaas tail, where he could still see the lump where her tiktik was. Don’t think about it, don't look at it, focus on the tiktik, focus on my tiktik, focus on the food I’m eating, don't look at it. Ouch! Didn't let it cool down quite as much as I would like. Keep eating, don't look at her. Just eat the darn tiktik!

After he finished eating, he stood up, grabbed the undercooked tiktik, and began walking. “I’ll eat this one on the way, I wouldn't want to keep you waiting longer than I need to, follow me.”

She got up and followed shortly behind. Except she doesn't have legs to stand on…what would it be called then? Even a grub has their little nubby legs. She hasn’t brought up the tiktik, I think it’s fine, then. Okay, I worried myself over nothing. It’s fine, stop thinking about it.

“I noticed you were staring…while I was eating.”

NEVERMIND IT’S BAD!!

“It’s alright, I guess. I suppose you do things differently here. Plus, Hornet never brought anything that would be too…unusual, to eat whole. That and you people have rigid exoskeletons. I understand.”

A moment of silence passed as they entered the Kings Pass.

“What about you? I’ve told you about myself, how have you been living?”

“Ah, well. I am, was, still am, sort of, a nailmaster. I was taught by the great nailsage, along with my two brothers, Oro and Sheo. I live alone here, my brothers and I…split up. Sheo left to find a new calling down in Greenpath, and Oro went over to the kingdom's edge to…do something. I haven’t heard from him since the breakup. Sheo, I have. He found his new calling in art, and recently helped another lost bug find his way. The old nailsmith, I believe.”

“You’re saying nail a lot, what is it? A weapon? Some kind of sword?

“Yes, you could call it that.”

Another moment of silence as they climbed up some rough terrain.

“What do you use?”

“What?”

“What kind of weapon do you use? Surely you’ve got something, I can tell you’re an adventurous type, what do you use to defend yourself? I use my greatnail.”

“Well, I don't have a weapon that I carry, I just use my body.”

“Your body, eh? Good one.”

She did not respond.

“You’re not kidding? How would you…is it the tail?”

“Yeah, I could easily crush you. Wouldn’t be the hardest thing I did this week. Don’t worry about it, I’m not going to show you. This tail of mine is almost pure muscle, anything else is either stomach or bone, mostly.”

“Incredible, your biology is so much different than ours. Oh, Quirrel is going to love you for that. He’s a smaller bug, adventurer scholar type. Though mostly just scholar nowadays. Anyway, we’re here.”

“How do we get down?”

“Oh, right. There used to be a stairway down…at least, that’s what I think that rubble is, they might rebuild it, now that the kingdom’s alive again. But for now, it’s a bit of a drop, so brace yourself.”

“Wait, what do you mean?”

Mato laughed, and jumped off. Much to Kaa’s surprise, he then called up, “It’s fine! Just hop down!”

She didn't want to, she’d never done something like it before. Her home was much flatter, as any cliff would eventually just be filled in with sand. But she did, and she coiled her tail like a spring to dampen the impact.

“Now, if anyone would know where Hornet is, it would be her older…brother? Sibling. They live here, and they rarely leave. The infection hit them the worst.”

“Really? I thought people died, if he’s still alive wouldn't that mean he wasn't hit as badly?”

“No. He had the worst, by far. Anything else would be like the fall you just took in comparison.”

“How is that even possible?”

“He had the entirety of the infection shoved inside him. The plan was to sacrifice him in order to save the rest of the kingdom. Obviously, that failed. Physically, it left him with one arm and a crippled body. Mentally? I have no idea. Nothing good, that’s for sure.”

He noticed the hollow knight following Senna, where she quite literally flew into the stag station.

“Hello, friend! My, what’s got her in such a hurry?”

“(looking for Hornet. Who’s that?)”

“Well, she’s also looking for Hornet, she says she’s friends with her. Why’s the radiance looking for her?”

“(found some weavers outside the kingdom. Looking for Hornet and Herrah to prove…truth. Why’s she looking for Hornet?)”

“Oh, well, she’s… well, how about you tell him? Them. sorry.”

“(actually, he/him would be fine. That’s how it was originally.)”

“Originally? I thought vessels had no gender?”

“(after we were consumed by the void, yes. But we didn’t start as void. Ghost, for example, was female before the void.)”

“Wait, he was- she, was female this whole time? And never said anything? Er, never… Kaa how about you tell him why you’re looking for Hornet, I need to think.”

“About that…what’s he doing? With his hand? Is he communicating?”

“Oh, he knows sign. Do you not?”

“I suppose so. Regardless, I came here originally to inform Hornet of the passing of the year, but she was nowhere to be found. I waited until I was starving, and decided to find food inside the kingdom. Then I met Mato here, and now I met you. It is an honor to meet you, Hollow Knight. Your sister told me about you. I am so sorry for…wait hold on. Mato, you said radiance, isn’t that the name of the old goddess who caused the plague?”

“Yes, and that moth that darted down the well is that very same radiance.”

“(her name is Senna)”

“Senna? When did she- later. The radiance, Senna, was given a chance to redeem herself by a much stronger god, and is currently looking for Hornet as well. I think she’s going to come back here, so we can just wait for her here. Though, I should head back to the cliffs to care for the critters. Is Quirrel here?”

“(yes, he and Senna just came back from a trip up the crystal peak. He’s going to enjoy dissecting this newcomer.)”

“...I do hope that’s not the word you meant. Questioning would be much better.”

“(what did I say?)”

“You said dissecting, not the word to use on a living subject”

“Where is Quirrel? I wouldn’t mind answering a few questions.”

Mato laughed as the knight walked to Quirrels house and knocked on the door.

“Oh, it’s never a few questions with Quirrel. I hope you’re ready for a full on interrogation, my friend.”

“What is it, knight? Do you need somethi- what is that?!” Quirrel bolted to Kaa and began his onslaught of questions.

The knight shook his head, and crawled into his home. They really need to enlarge that door, how did Iselda do it?

Chapter Text

Hornet was not in Dirtmouth. Senna would have to ask…him.

She stood in front of his door, unable to make the next move.

She had to.

She had to do something.

If she didn't, the weavers would leave without knowing the truth.

Hornet wouldn't know.

Herrah wouldn't know.

They had to know.

She had to do it.

She had to talk to him.

Why couldn't she do it?

This was the perfect opportunity to earn some trust.

If she didn’t, and they found out…

They would kill her.

She fell back as the door opened. How long was I leaning against the door?

“I can sense your presence, you know. What do you want.”

“Oh? Oh! I need to know where Hornet is, do you know?”

“Why should I tell you?”

“Her people are waiting outside the kingdom, they’re leaving tomorrow!”

“Really now?”

“Yes! I need to know where she is!”

“You see, I just can’t help but feel as though you are trying to trick me. Living my entire life with you made it hard for me to trust you. I’m sure you understand,”

“I’m not lying! They are right outside the kingdom! Do you know where she is!?”

“Well, if you must know, she’s in the city. Helping organize the rebuilding process to fix your…” his gaze snapped to somewhere beyond her, then he grabbed her arm and ran towards the thing he was looking at.

“What? What are you doing?! Let go of me!”

“WHAT DO YOU SEE?”

“What?”

He pointed at the air just in front of her, and again shouted, “RIGHT THERE. TELL ME YOU SEE IT.”

“...what?” she looked, and there was definitely something about it. Someone was there, moments ago, a fragment of someone, something dark. “...yes, I see something…”

He dropped to his knees, trembling, “please tell me you saw her too…I just want to hear it.” he seemed…sad.

“There was definitely someone here, I can tell you that much. I’m not able to see as much as I used to…someone…touched by the void.”

“It was…” tears were starting to form in his eyes, “it was her. She’s still with me.”

“Who?”

He stood up, and wiped the tears from his eyes. “My sister. Ghost. The one who freed me. The one I left behind.” he began walking towards the stag station. “Hornet should be…”

…

“If you need me, I’ll be at the old library”

“(Monomon’s archives?)”

“No, the city library. The people need a leader. As much as I don't like it, they need me.”

“(what of your people?)”

“Deepnest is fine. They have Herrah. I serve both people, remember?”

She gave the knight a pat and stepped onto the platform to the stag, watching him leave as the platform slowly came to the lower level. She rang the bell and sat on the newly installed bench. How does he keep track of where to go? More importantly, how is he going to keep up with the vast increase in traffic? His old shell won’t last much longer…what are we going to do? Eventually the stag came, and took her to the Crossroads station.

She walked to the old town by the lake, looking at how quickly the place returned to life. But no children. Not yet. She remembered the look on Midwife’s face, how it broke her. No time to dwell on the past, we must rebuild. She came to the house she was looking for and knocked. She had been to the menderbug’s guild a few times in her life, rarely with good news. She would need their expertise if her plan was to work.

“Hello? I’m a bit busy at the moment but- Hornet!” the small bug looked up from the pile of things he was carrying and greeted her with delight, “how’ve you been? I assume you have a plan? What do you need? I’m happy to help!”

“I need you to come with me to the city. I plan on establishing a solid base there, near the center of the kingdom.”

“Ah, yes. Where it would be easiest for all bugs to gather, you have your Father’s wisdom. Of course, I can help.”

He dropped the pile on a nearby open space and followed her back to the stag. There was an unusually long wait, but eventually the stag came, and they went to the city.

As odd as it was, Hornet felt uncomfortable with all the people in the city. There weren't many bugs, but still enough to bother her. For most of her life, she had known the city as a quiet place, with bugs either holed up inside, or dead, or husks shambling about. And it would only get more populated from here. Hopefully…

Eventually they made it to the library, where already there were nearly a hundred bugs. Word had spread that the Daughter of Hallownest had a plan to revive the kingdom, she was proud to see the amount of bugs willing to work. She climbed up a bookshelf and addressed the crowd.

“You all know why you’re here, so I’ll get to the point. We need workers to rebuild the kingdom and its populace. I need volunteers to start the process. If any of you have skills that can be useful, make it known. We need anything that can be used to breathe life into this shell.”

Several hands went up among the crowd. A large beetle with four arms (two of which ended with thick scythes that could protect as much as attack) worked as a manager for a construction firm. A mantis, who she recognized as the orchid who snapped Zote’s nail, owned a field to work, and only needed some workers to revitalize it. an ant, who she recognized as the warrior of the colosseum known as god tamer, had animal handling skills that surpassed even her own. A first era grasshopper made art with shellwood, and the skills could easily be transferred. And there was a butterfly who was a renowned chef. The nailsmith was also there, and he could help provide quality tools for bugs to work with.

“Good, that’s wonderful. Now I want everyone else to gather in groups, based on what work you want to learn and do. One bug cannot plow an entire field without breaking their back, or build a suitable house alone. If you do not know what team to work with, ask around.”

The crowd spread and regathered into clumps, the menderbug joining the grasshoppers group. After closer inspection, Hornet noticed something that bothered her. She hopped off the bookshelf and approached the butterfly.

“Excuse me, miss…?”

“Alouette.” she responded.

“Alouette, can you tell me why only upperclassmen have joined your group? Surely there are skilled bakers among the rest of the crowd.”

“Not any that I would work with. I do not care for the peasants.”

“Well, I have bad news for you, Alouette. You are a peasant. So you better work with the rest of them.”

“Nonsense! I am quite the opposite! Do you not recognize me? Or did you spend all your time with the beasts and other filth.”

She growled, and pulled her close. Then whispered into her ear, quiet, so that no other could hear.

“Watch your tongue, girl. Take care that it does not cause you to lose your head.” She released her, and said in a less threatening voice, “That was in a past long gone, friend. The only difference between you now is how helpful you are to the kingdom. This goes to the rest of you former nobles: you would do well to learn the new equalizer of hunger...” she once again glared at the purple butterfly, “...and fear.”

“Yes ma’am.” the nobles responded.

“Also, I’m sure some of you would be better fitted in other groups. I will let you reposition now.”

A couple of them reluctantly moved to the other groups, where, when they could, they stood closer to their fellow upperclassmen. She sighed, not quite, but better.

She got back up onto the bookshelf and again spoke, “Good, good. I have one more request before I send you off. In case you haven’t noticed, there are no children running around our feet. This is yet another problem caused by the plague. For some, this has caused horrible miscarriages. My people included. If any of you are skilled in delivering eggs, I need you to take on that responsibility.”

Nobody raised their hand.

“Please, this is quite possibly the most important job in the kingdom right now.”

Still, nobody raised their hand.

She sighed. Of course it would not be this easy. Then she remembered there was one bug who could. Though she doubted Midwife would be willing to work with those of His kingdom… but she might be willing to teach one. “Would anyone be willing to learn? My people have a skilled midwife, and I may be able to convince her to teach one of you. Be wary, as she is one of Deepnest, and all that that entails. You will need to be strong willed, and quick witted. She does bite.”

A moment of silence passed; nobody in their right mind would accept that kind of offer. To move to Deepnest, to train under their midwife, who might just eat them without ever teaching a thing: preposterous. Then one hand came up, a foreign mantis with a blue shell and four arms, who was with the group of undecided bugs that didn’t join a different group. She had spots along her limbs that faintly glowed with many colors.

“I will.”

“Hmm, I do not believe I have seen you before. What is your name, and where are you from?”

“My name is Selina Padepar. I come from a family of traveling performers. I have no kingdom to call my home, but I have been staying here in the eastern half of the city. We came here a while before the infection. I…am the last of my name.”

“Interesting. I am sure you will find sympathy from just about everyone; most of us have lost someone dear. I would like you to follow me to Deepnest. The rest of you should have an idea where to start working. The buildings in the city are mostly undamaged, and the Crossroads have been nearly overwhelmed by wild beasts, so I would recommend corralling those up somewhere. Those of you who haven’t joined a group, I won't force you to work if you do not want to or cannot. Return to your homes, or wherever you are currently sheltering.”

The crowd began flooding out the door and dispersed across the city. Hornet and many others went to the stag, where he slowly took groups of one to three to the crossroads and to greenpath. Hornet could have gone first, as leader, but she allowed everyone else to go where they were needed first. She spent the time waiting to get to know the new bug.

“I have met nearly every bug in this kingdom, heard their story, and witnessed their demise. How did you fare during the plague? Were you infected, or were you among the scant few who remained unscathed?”

“I was able to resist the infection. My family…less so. I spent my days hiding from the husks, trying to learn as much as I could from old books. I looked for a way to help my family. They could still talk, barely. They begged me to kill them. I tried, but they got back up. Eventually, I put them down. I…wish I could have done better. I had nightmares every night. Still do. I could have saved them, if I just waited. If I just waited, they could have been fine. I would have had a chance to save them. It’s all my fault…”

She sat, crying softly. Hornet sat beside her, and wrapped her arm around Selina’s shoulder.

“That makes you among the worst afflicted. I’m told by those that succumbed that it wasn’t all that bad after a while, that they became numb. But you are among the few that dealt with the worst. Being the sole survivor of a family, having to kill those that you love, it breaks a bug's heart. I was fortunate enough to not have siblings, my Father, I could not care less about. But I did lose my mother, for a time. She was one of the dreamers, meaning she was always there, but never really…there. I did have step-siblings, and those died by the tens of thousands.”

“What? How?”

“My father is the Pale King. His plan was to make a vessel to contain the light. Countless children died by His hand, all to find His ‘pure vessel’. In the end, he chose the wrong one. Two bugs came from one egg, both made it to the top of the abyss, where He would judge them, and He chose the first one to make it, because it was close enough. A couple survived and made it out. Some left to travel the world, some stayed. Among the ones that stayed or returned, all but one died…and in the end, even Ghost died.”

She stood up and helped Selina to her feet.

“Everyone hurts, my friend, some of us choose to keep it inside, but everyone has some pain. It’s our job to help those that cannot help themselves. For you, that starts by training under the best midwife I know. She delivered me, after all.”

And with that, they took the stag to Deepnest.

Chapter Text

“This place always gives me the creeps.” the old stag commented, “But if the bugs want to go here, I will take them.”

As soon as the two riders dismounted, he was gone, leaving no room for further discussion.

“Keep your lights down, we don't want to blind the residents,” Hornet told Selina, who reluctantly obeyed.

“How am I supposed to see, then? It’s dark!”

“You’ll get used to it, just…stay here a while, I’m going to check if I can get her to humor me. The bench has been fixed, so you can use that.”

She left before Selina could complain, and dove down through the large chamber into the small lake beneath the hanging village.

“But…where’s the bench…?” Selina called out, only to realize; “Oh, there it is.”

Hornet felt a strange sense of nostalgia traversing the old tunnels. She would often visit Midwife as a child, always so glad to see her smiling face…both smiling faces. The last time she visited Midwife was…when they had to clean up the nursery. She’s got to be over it by now, right? It couldn’t have been that bad. She’s done it before… she remembered her sad eyes, how even her mask seemed to droop.

“Midwife? It’s Hornet, are you here?” she called out into the den. There was an encouraging rumble, and then the ever-smiling face of Midwife emerged.

“Hornet, my dear little child, what has made you come here?”

“I have…a proposition.”

“If it’s about His people I don’t care, it’s His problem.”

“Well, it isn't one of His people…”

“And I don't like bees. They make my legs itch.”

“It isn’t one of Vespas bees, either. It’s a foreigner. She wants to learn from you.”

“Oh? You don’t hear of those these days. Bring her in, I want to get a good look at her before I decide anything.”

Hornet left to get Selina, she better not have gotten into trouble or I swear to whatever gods still listen…

Midwife mutered excitedly to herself. “They always taste so different. I can’t recall the last time I’ve had a foreigner in my den, was it that leathery one? Or the one with the scales, it has been a long time…”

Selina had, in fact, gotten into trouble. The bench had been booby-trapped. She had been panicking the whole time.

“Hornet? Is that you? Please get me out of here, I can’t move! Something was moving about in the shadows, but I couldn't see, and-”

“Yeah, I’m aware of what they do. It’s a mix of hunting and play. They got me one time and never let me forget it. Don’t worry about it; they probably wouldn’t have eaten you, you’re too thin for them. Anyways, Midwife’s willing to listen. Do one thing for me,” she paused, “don't let her bite you. I don’t want to search Hallownest for another volunteer.”

She brought Selina to the den, where Midwife was waiting.

“Well Midwife, what do you think? She’s got a strong air about her, I feel.”

“Ah, yes,” Midwife said, wrapping around them and prodding Selina with her legs. “Definitely a strong bug. She has a troubled past…though that is quite common these days. Yes, a good–” she lunged at the bug, maw agape, but found herself blocked from devouring by the very bug she tried to consume. Selina had braced herself against the large body of the centipede, and used her four arms to protect herself from the threat.

“Ah! Good reflexes, too. And a resourceful one, as well. Yes, this will do. I will train her.”

Selina laughed to herself. “You don’t survive the apocalypse if you can’t protect yourself from unforeseen danger. Also, I was told that you would bite, so I was a little prepared.”

Midwife scoffed, “Hornet, I can’t judge a bug when they know to look out! Though by the looks of it, I think she probably would have done fine without prior warning…”

“I didn't want to have to find another bug, Midwife.”

“Well, I suppose it would be quite difficult for you to find another bug who would be willing to even approach me, much less one that I would agree to work with. Very well then, off you go.” Midwife paused, listening to something seemingly only she could hear. “Why does that voice sound so painfully familiar…”

…

“If you’re going to Hornet’s mystery meeting, you’re too late, I’m afraid. Everybody has already gone home,” the old stag said as he galloped towards King’s Station.

“Well, I just need to find Hornet. I have important information that might help clear my name.”

The stag laughed, “Good luck with that one. I care not for your past actions, there is nothing we can do to change them. One can only hope to fix what they have broken, and give what they can. Your speech has softened some of their hearts, from what I can tell, but many still despise you. Last I saw her, Hornet was taking a strange bug to Deepnest. Would you like to go there, instead?”

“Yes, please.”

The stag slowed to a halt, then turned around and took her to Deepnest.

“As I told her, I hate being there, so I will leave as soon as you are off.”

“That’s fine, I don’t like it either.”

Once she got off the saddle, the stag as promised bolted out of the station, leaving Senna alone to find Hornet.

While not having nearly as good darkvision as the inhabitants of Deepnest, as a goddess of light (even diminished) Senna had a fairly easy time navigating the dark tunnels. She called out, hoping for a quick response, “Hornet! Where are you! I have something you need to hear!” But alas, no answer. She entered the main structure within the village, continuing to call out. Eventually, she got a response, not from who she was looking for, but from someone else. Someone better.

“Hello? Who’s looking for my daughter? And…why do I feel like I know you?” Herrah said, and the two found each other.

“Ah, Herrah, you would enjoy this too. More, perhaps.”

“What is it, little moth? Though, first, who are you? There are few moths in the kingdom and you are not one of them. I believe we have met before, but I cannot seem to recall your name.”

“We have met, on a technicality, but you need to hear this first!”

“No.” Herrah said, now looming over the much smaller moth. Her voice was cold, “Where do I know you? I do not think we left on good terms.”

“...I was-”

Herrah cut her off. “And don’t try to come up with some false story, or I will kill you.”

Senna swallowed, nervous. She probably would kill me. It wouldn’t even be hard .

“Step in line,” she chuckled, trying to ease the tension. “Half the kingdom wants my head”

“What? Wait, no…” Herra recoiled, “No, it can’t be. You’re not… her …are you? Your voice is…no… no …you would have to have…no…how?”

“I am indeed the Old Light. A god much stronger than I, the Shade Lord, banished me. I am here to tell you your people have returned. A small band of them are waiting outside the valley and are leaving by morning.”

The mention of the weavers struck Herrah at her core. She lost sight of the moth entirely and sprinted out the door and towards the stagways. Before Senna could even react, Herrah was long gone. “But, I didn't even tell you where…”

…

“What is it, Midwife?” Hornet asked, “is something wrong?”

“No, no. Something has happened. Something important. I must investigate”

The large centipede began moving out of her den, moving towards the village. Hornet grabbed Selina and followed Midwife.

“What’s happening?” Selina asked, nervous.

“I don't know, but I feel it too. Something important, for sure."

They reached the hanging village and found a lone moth leaning against the doorway to the beast's den.

“Senna? What happened here?” Hornet asked.

Midwife hissed when she saw the moth. “I don't recognise you now, moth. But I know that I know you, and that I don’t like you.”

“Wait, no, Midwife, stop, she’s different now, she’s a changed bug... Senna you better have some really good news or I won't be able to hold her back.”

“Weavers,” she responded, a little out of breath. “Weavers outside the valley. They leave at dawn.”

Instantly, Midwife followed the same path Herrah took, almost knocking the three smaller bugs off the platform.

“...we should probably follow them.” Hornet said. And she and Senna left to follow, leaving Selina behind.

“Wait! I can’t see in the dark!” she called out. But they were already gone. “...well, fine. But don't get mad at me when you come back” and she turned her lights back on. In the light of her glowing rainbow spots, she stumbled her way back to the stag station, rang the bell, and sat back on the bench.

Which was covered in webs. Again.

Chapter Text

The hollow knight sat on his bed, staring at his one hand.

I need to help them. What good am I doing sitting here?

He sighed, causing a barely audible whistle.

I wasn't even meant to have these thoughts. I was meant to be empty, hollow, a pure vessel. But I'm not, and I never was. Everyone calls me that. Hollow. It’s a cute nickname to them, but it means something else to me. I need to tell them to call me something else, something that fits better. Ghost seemed to like her name, that’s just what Hornet called her, and it stuck. Perhaps I can ask Hornet to give me a name. No, she’ll probably just give me a similar name, like shadow, or spectre. He paused at the word. Spectre…spectre…what was that word again? Not spectre, the other one…spectrum! Right, that. That could be a good name. After a long time mulling it over, he nodded his head, yes, I’ll tell them to call me Spectrum. 

But still, what good can I do with one arm? Not much. I can still lift some things, and carry a few objects, but I would be able to do much more without a missing arm. If only I could get a new one. I can’t molt anymore, so I can’t get it back the usual way…but what about me is usual? I’m the child of two gods, succumbed to the void. There is nothing inside my shell but void…but then, how am I alive? Am I alive? In the same sense that they are alive? Do I have a heart? A brain? A soul? I’m able to cast spells, and heal wounds in battle, so I do have some sort of soul…but am I still the same bug that is my Father’s son? Or did that bug die when the egg was submerged? Ghost seemed pretty alive to me, despite being purer than I could ever hope to be. She is the real hollow knight, if only she got there first.

He placed two fingers against his neck to check for a pulse.

I do bleed, so I must have something in there…yes, I think I feel something… but it was not the two note rhythm of a heartbeat, but a single beat. In and out with no difference in the time between pulses. Close enough, I guess.

I must have some kind of brain, if I didn't, I wouldn't be able to think. And I sure am doing that.

My body has been completely destroyed. Twice, now. I have no voice to speak, but I was fortunate enough to learn sign from that mute bug back in the palace. Against Father’s wishes. The whole right side of my body is irreparably scarred. My face has been cracked as well…though, strangely, it was my left eye. I have…some control over the void inside me. I was once able to cast it out in an attack. Could I…perhaps…use that to replace my right arm?

He calmed his mind and focused. It had been ages since he last called upon the void within, and he was out of practice. He cringed when his right shoulder began to hurt as the void slowly crept out. I probably should have waited for the chitin to harden. But he pressed on. The void lashed out in the same uncontrollable anger as it always did, but as he focused, he was able to calm the writhing tendrils and shape them into something vaguely resembling an arm. He chuckled to himself, silently. I’d ask how mother does it, but her roots are solid, and don’t fight back. Progress was slow, and difficult, but eventually he was able to more tightly wrap the arm, and form fingers (it was closer to claws, but progress was progress) he stretched out his arms, and examined his work. It was unorthodox, but many things about him were unorthodox.

Then the door opened, and the arm went back to the flailing mess that it started from.

“Hollow? Woah, is that…normal? Are you okay?” Iselda asked, her voice flooded with concern.

“(yes. I’m alright. I’m trying to control it far more than I ever did before…)”

“Does it hurt?”

“(no it…a little bit. I haven’t done it in a long time, so I’m not as good as I once was.)”

“May I come in?”

He nodded, and Iselda came and sat beside him. At this point the tendrils had all shrunk back inside his shoulder.

“What were you trying to do? Your shell is still soft in some places. You shouldn’t be trying to do anything too strenuous.”

“(I was trying to replace my arm. I was able to get it in the right shape, but then I lost my concentration. It wont work, anyway.)”

“Why not?”

“(it’s raw void. It would destroy anything it touches.)”

“I’m sure there’s a way to give it a shell, isn’t there? I do remember hearing that the King made constructs out of void, and those didn’t destroy anything…”

He thought for a moment, “(you’re right! If I can get a kingsmold, I could use the armor from that to make a new arm. Though, no…it would be too small for me. They had four thin arms, and mine are a fair bit thicker…longer, too.)”

They were silent for a moment while they thought of a solution.

“Perhaps the nailsmith could help? Though he moved to Greenpath to live with Sheo. I can find it on the map, and take you there.” She stood up, and pulled Spectrum to his feet. “It’s been ages since I last had an adventure. Let's go!”

She hurried out to gather her things, filled with newfound vigor. Spectrum slowly followed her to the well.

“(why not take the stag? It would be quicker.)”

“Because it’s more fun! Also, it’s only a bit longer. It's a shame Corny isn't awake to come with us, but he should wake up sometime soon.”

He glanced down at the nail proudly holstered on her side. “(why are you bringing that?)”

“For defense? Oh, right. No more infected bugs. I suppose you’re right.” She looked down at the nail she was so excited to use again. “Couldn’t hurt to bring it, though. Just in case there’s a wild bug that tries to attack us.”

He nodded, and they both went down the well into the greater kingdom.

As they walked to Sheo’s hut, Iselda rambled, “It’s so nice to go outside again, you know? We’ve both been cooped up for so long, it’s good to go on a walk once in a while. Me and Corny used to go out on adventures together. Exploring new and wonderful lands, just me and him, out in the world, together.” 

They slowly made their way down the large vertical room that connected to Greenpath. 

“I never really explored much when we got here, what with the infection and all. But that didn't scare Cornifer, not one bit! And it really paid off! Your sibling – sister? – Ghost, bought every one of his maps and filled them out completely. She made the first complete map of Hallownest since the fall, and now it’s available for everyone! We’ve never had so much geo at one time! Everyone and their tiktik has bought a copy of at least one area’s map, many going for the full thing.” 

They carefully crossed the acid lake. 

“I’m hoping to see updates on the map, though. New villages popping up, where bugs gather. Like the one east of the stag station. That one has been rebuilt and repopulated. Or the one in Greenpath, by the lake. That one is new, there was only a temple there before. It warms my heart to know that the bugs are coming together, helping each other. Oh, look! Maskflies! I’ve never seen one before. They’re so beautiful, don’t you think? They’re a bit smaller than I thought. What about you, Hollow? Your past is so important in the history of the kingdom, and yet few bugs know much more than what’s on the memorial in the city.”

“(don’t call me hollow. I never was.)”

“Oh? Oh! I’m so sorry! I never thought it meant that to you! Please forgive me. What would you prefer to be called?”

“(spectrum)”

“Huh, wouldn’t have guessed that. Like a rainbow, right? That suits you. Not entirely sure why or how, but it feels…right.”

“(do you want the full story? It’s not a happy one.)”

“More than just what happened at the temple?”

“(My whole life is a sad story, from birth to today. You sure you want to hear it?)”

“Yes, I want to hear it… Well, I suppose since you sign it would be more appropriate to say ‘see’ it…” She paused. “Is that an okay joke to make?”

Spectrum shrugged.

They passed by the hunter’s den and made the last turn. It was a straight shot to their destination.

“(alright, prepare yourself. It began when Father realized the Old Light could not be stopped. To fight against a plague of the mind, he needed something to contain it, to seal it away. He needed a mind without dreams to latch on to, a mind pure of thoughts. As you can imagine, this seemed an impossible task. He eventually came to the conclusion that if he made a child, and the child’s egg was completely consumed by void, he would be able to create this ‘pure vessel’. So He and the White Lady made many children, each an attempt at creating the perfect vessel. The number is unknown, but estimated to be close to a million, if not more.)”

“How?” Iselda asked dumbfounded.

“(nobody knows but Mother and Father. It was a popular activity for people who knew, mostly just the knights, but there were a few others, to theorize how Wyrm and Root could procreate. My guess is that the eggs were like seeds to the Root, and that’s how so many of them could be made. The eggs were all taken to the abyss, and tossed into the void lake, where the bugs inside succumbed to the void. It stripped us of gender, of mind, of future. As planned, the children were strong. They were born of gods, after all. If they weren't, they would have been completely and utterly devoured. We needed that strength to stay alive. Because of this, the void was not able to finish the job. Some of us survived long enough to hatch. But most died in their eggs. Those that survived were all mostly, but not entirely, empty. That’s how I know I am male, and that Ghost is female. That little hint of sex remains. Though, sex in terms of procreation is entirely impossible. The ‘tools’ were stripped away, and even if somehow they remained, it would be fatal to partake with any bug not taken by the void already. Ghost and I are twins, we came from the same egg. When we hatched we were alone, despite being surrounded on all sides by our siblings, alive and dead. We stood on the bodies of those that came before. We were among the last to hatch. All we knew is that we were brothers and sisters, and that the light above us was calling. At the entrance to the abyss stood the King, waiting for His perfect vessel to arrive. It was a simple test, but a mercilessly efficient one. He simply offered his hand to the poor child struggling to climb up. If the child tried to take His hand, they would be unable to support themselves, and plummet to their death. It was a long and difficult task to climb, most were unable to even reach the top. Their bodies constantly fell around us. A few of us refused to take the climb, thinking some other way must exist. They were wrong, and were buried with the rest of the failed vessels. I was the first to pass the test. Unfortunately, there was no second question, and Father assumed I was the perfect vessel. I was not. I failed the second question. Before leaving the abyss, I felt my twin's presence. Perhaps I could have been the pure vessel. But I looked back. I saw as Ghost struggled to climb the final ledge. I felt her presence fall when the door slammed shut. I regret it every moment I live. If I had waited for her, if I had gone back for her…but that didn't happen, and I suppose it is better this way. If she was chosen, the stasis would never have ended, the Old Light never fully stopped. I wouldn’t be here now.)”

They reached the long tunnel leading to Sheo’s hut. It was filled with thorns and flying duranda.

“This is the last room, though I don't see a way across. I could possibly ride the duranda across, but I don’t know how we’re going to get you across. Perhaps there’s another way?”

They looked around and found an opening above them.

“Hold on, could you help me up?”

Spectrum nodded, and helped her onto his back where she was able to climb up into the smaller tunnel above.

“It seems this goes all the way across, but I don’t know if you can fit. Do you want to try?”

He again nodded, and reached up to grab onto the ledge and tried pulling himself up. He was able to wedge his shoulder onto the platform by jumping, and with Iselda pulling him, he was able to get the rest of his body into the tunnel. He barely fit, his back was scraping against the ceiling, but he fit. And he was able to slowly crawl through the long tunnel and drop down the other side.

“Sorry I’m not able to get the rest of your story. Perhaps another time I can listen.”

“(another time.)”

He hoisted himself up the last ledge, as Iselda knocked on Sheo’s door.

“I’ll get it,” they heard a gruff voice from inside, and the door opened up to reveal the old nailsmith, and Sheo working on a sculpture of the hollow knight.

“Hello, Iselda. What brings you here?”

“I came looking for someone skilled with metalworking to make a new arm for Spectrum.”

As the nailsmith’s gaze turned and raised, Iselda continued, “or, as you know him, the hollow knight.”

Sheo nearly dropped his project as he came running to the door. “No way, I heard he was alive, but-” he reached the door and stood in awe at the impressive (despite being scarred) form of the sixth great knight. “Sir knight, I- come in! There’s room enough for all of us. I apologize for the mess, I would have never expected to have a guest of such honor! Please, please, have a seat!” he swept off the table, knocking a few unfinished projects to the floor. “I am deeply humbled by your presence, sir, never in my wildest dreams did I imagine meeting one of the great knights face to face. Please let me know if there is anything I can do to help.”

Spectrum sat in the chair Sheo had been using moments before. He leaned over and picked up the smooshed form of himself.

“(is this…me?)”

“Yes! Oh, it’s ruined, I’ll have to start over. Oh! Would you mind staying and modeling for me? I need it for both my knights collection and my royalty collection. It’s the last one.”

They looked over to where Sheo had placed sculptures of the five great knights and the King and Queen. Spectrum stood up to get a closer look.

“Isma still needs painting, but they’re all there. All except for you.”

My friends, how long has it been since I last saw your faces? I miss the laughter you brought, Hegemol. I miss the tales of lands unreachable, Le’mer. I miss our spars, Dryya, you were the best to fight against. Isma, I miss your kindness, you always knew what to say. I miss your playfulness, Ogrim, we need to talk again, sometime soon.

“(these are my friends. Thank you, for letting me see them again.)”

“Of course, of course. Your bonds must be as strong as you were. It is a great shame that they perished.”

“(not all of them. Ogrim’s still around.)”

“Ogrim? I feel like I recognise that name”

Iselda paused her conversation with the nailsmith, “isn't that the dung defender?”

“(yes, that is what he is known as now. But I did not come here to chat. Another time, perhaps, if you clear an easier path to your hut. I came here because I need a new arm.)”

“What? Oh! How did I not notice that? What happened to your arm? Did you lose it in battle? Tell me, great knight.”

“(I did not lose it in battle, nailmaster. I lost it in prison. I was locked away with an angry goddess trapped in my head.)” he pointed to the mess of scars all along his right side, the warped shell and orange stains. “(as you can see, my body was tortured the same as many of the bugs afflicted. The pressure built inside my shell until eventually it was torn off. And I need you to make me a new one.)”

“How? A prosthetic would be barely any more useful than your current position.”

“(I’m not asking for a prosthetic, I’m asking for, essentially armor.)”

He focused himself, barely hearing Sheo’s question, and extended the void within.

“What? What is he doing?”

“Making an arm.” Iselda answered. “He needs you to make a harness for it to be usable.”

After making it loosely arm shaped, he retracted it. “(I would like for you to make it out of this)” he unsheathed his nail and placed it on the table.

“Where did that come from? I didn't see it on our way here.” Iselda asked.

“Hold on,” the nailmaster said, gently moving Iselda out of the way, “this is my specialty, let me see it. It’s damaged, but very well made. Very well made. It reminds me of the last nail I worked on. A small bug came to me with a well worn blade, and I repaired it for them. They brought me pale ore and I was able to improve it. They brought me more and I was able to reforge it into a pure nail. I asked, begged them to cut me down with that pure nail, but I am glad they refused. I was able to find Sheo thanks to that bug. This nail reminds me of that pure nail. It is worn and dulled, but it has the same potential, and the same aura… as if they were wielded by the same bug. That or, equally unlikely, siblings.

“(that is correct. The bug you met was my twin sister. Her name is Ghost. This nail was at one point a pure nail, though it has become damaged beyond repair after ages lying in the black egg temple. I want you to remake it into a shell of an arm. So that I might use it once again to serve the kingdom.)”

“...so there were others?”

Chapter Text

In early Hallownest, things were different. It was a much wilder place. Both the land and the people were nearly unrecognizable as Hallownest. All save for the King.

Greenpath was much larger, as it had not yet been divided into Greenpath and Queen’s Garden. The city of tears had not yet been built, nor had the waterways. There was the upper blue lake and lower blue lake. Deepnest was much larger. The forest of bone was still there, as it had not yet been destroyed by the cataclysm. The hive was a fair bit smaller. Kingdom’s Edge was not yet blanketed by ash. Resting Grounds was still the remnants of the moth tribe. The people were vastly different. They were still closer to true bugs than they were children of the Wyrm. They still had six limbs, and were much more varied in size and shape.

Over time, things changed. The lower lake was drained and a city built in its place. A treaty between Unn and the White Lady was made and Greenpath was split. The King pressed into Deepnest as far as he could, shrinking it down to what it is today. The hive was allowed to grow, and it thrived. The basin was dug out, and the void was discovered, along with ancient monoliths that radiated soul. The moth tribe was all but wiped out, and their land was turned into a graveyard. The Wyrm's old body deteriorated, covering the land in a thick coat of ash. The crystallized interior of the eastern mountains was discovered. A great earthquake nearly destroyed the whole kingdom, burying many areas. The forest of bone was among the parts that were unable to be saved. There are theories that other parts may have existed, supported by fossilized evidence of coral found near the southern edge.

Few first era bugs remain. Many of them died long before the stasis even began, and those that didn’t were mostly lost to the plague. One of the first era bugs that still lives is a grasshopper by the name of Reed. An artist of the old age, he is a skilled woodworker. He is among the four legged variety of first era bugs. Being a first era bug, he still possesses the powerful hind legs of a grasshopper that are lost to modern bugs. He survived the stasis easily. He lived far away from any other bug, near the edge of the Old Light’s influence. He also lived close to Unn, and benefited from Her shield. He lived on the far side of the lake of Unn, but was still able to frequent the temple by simply jumping over the lake. 

He lived a simple life as a farmer living off the land, supporting only himself and his mother, until she passed on. He worked in the field in the morning, and worked on his art in the afternoon. He made many different sculptures, ranging from fruits and vegetables to Unn and the King and Queen. He was a child of Unn as much as he was a child of the Wyrm.

One day his mother told him she was ready to return to Unn, her life had been well spent and had reached its end. So he carried her to the lake where he laid her to rest. The acid burned his arms as he lowered his mother to her grave. But she made no expression of pain, she smiled as her body dissolved. She was at peace. He sat there, watching as his mother’s body was consumed by the acid until there was nothing left. He stayed there the whole day, lamenting the death of his mother in quiet solitude. But he was not devastated by his loss, his tears were mixed with sadness and joy. His mother would no longer suffer the pains of old age, and she was with her family again. He knew he would one day take the same journey and be with her again. 

No work was done in the field the following week. The time was dedicated to mourning, and to creating a sculpture of his mother. When it was completed, he placed it with the rest of the statues of his ancestors, where his father and grandparents were.

…

Now, over half a century and a second cataclysm later, he works with Strika teaching new bugs the skills needed to rebuild. A hammer and chisel was replaced with a hammer and nail. 

"We're here to locate, remove and replace all broken or damaged parts of the building." Strika announced, her voice piercing the thrum of the rain outside. A box of scavenged tools was placed in front of the large building they selected to repair first, ranging from hammers, to crowbars, to scraps of metal in a useful shape. While the rest of the bugs crawled around the outside of the building, she went inside to the main structural support pillars. Reed followed her.

"What do you plan on doing? Everyone else is working on the outside…" he asked.

"Checking the stability of the pillars," she answered before giving one of the pillars a mighty thwack! with her large, shell plated arm.

"What are you doing?!" He asked, recoiling from the shock.

"Like I said, checking the pillars. If it holds, it's good, if it moves, it's bad. Got to make sure the building won’t collapse the moment we get all our work done, that would be a huge waste of time and effort,” she answered. “Picked it up during my time as an adventurer. This one’s good. I’ll be moving on to the next one. You should get to work, kid.”

Before he could retort, claiming that he very likely was older than she could ever achieve, another bug came in. A small beetle with a dark red shell, calling for help. “Strika! That was your name, right? We need your help!”

“What is it? Is someone hurt?” she asked.

“No, no. We’re fine. It’s just that… we don't have any material to replace the broken boards.”

“Oh! Right! I forgot we didn’t have any shellwood. I apologize, that was entirely my fault. Lets see, I would assume there should be a stockpile in the storerooms, send some bugs there to go check.”

“Yes ma’am.” The bug left.

Reed stared at her. “How could you forget something as simple as materials? Weren’t you a manager?”

“Well, yes. I…” she sighed, “I didn't manage materials, that was a different company that supplied the shellwood. I actually never asked, is it shell or wood? I’ve seen both, but never as the same thing. Hallownest is quite an interesting place, isn’t it?”

“Well, fun fact, did you know we didn’t always use shellwood?”

“What? I’ve been here a long time, we’ve always used shellwood. And the bugs before me always used shellwood. What would we have used if not shellwood?”

“I’m a first era bug. That means I’ve been around a little bit longer than the average bug. I’m older than you and still quite young. Granted, even in my lifespan we’ve always used shellwood.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m saying.”

“But my father didn’t.”

“Well then, what did he use?”

“Whiteroot. Harvested from the White Lady.”

She shook her head, sure he must be joking. “Seriously, what did they use before shellwood?”

“Before we had shellwood, we would use the roots of the White Lady. She would grow long, straight lengths of root, break them off, often with the help of a harvester, and they would be used in construction. My father worked as a harvester in his early days. It was incredibly strong, though that did make it difficult to work with, especially when it was fresh. Though if you wait too long, it becomes hard as crystal and borderline unworkable. Usually batches were done so that most of it was used in the project, with a few extra in case mistakes were made.”

“No way, that’s cool! Are there any buildings with whiteroot still in them?”

“Well, there’s the palace, of course…” Reed stopped to ponder. “I think…there might be some in the stagways, those were built fairly early, I don't know. I didn’t work on any of them, and we can’t ask my father what he worked on. He passed on well before the plague.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Don't worry about it. He’s in a better place now. They’ve returned to Unn. He was a good man, strong and reliable, with a good sense of humor. He could make anyone laugh, even the White Lady.”

“I’m sure he could,” she said in a placating tone.

“No, seriously. He made Her laugh, and he took that as a badge of pride. To the point where I feel like he got a charm from it. His jokes did seem to hit harder after that, though I might just be misremembering it. If a charm was formed that day, it’s possible that he left it for me, though it’s equally likely that he took it with him to the grave. The story goes, She was on a trip to visit Unn. Our family is the keeper of the gate, and he was working that day. Supposedly as he was escorting Her to Unn, he made Her laugh. What it was that made Her laugh, he kept a secret his whole life. I never had the chance to ask Her, either.”

They were interrupted by the same little red bug from before returning with unfortunate news. “The shellwood stores are rotten! They’re unusable!”

Strika turned back to Reed. “Think we can go back to that? We’re not going to get any new shellwood for a long while, and we need a ready supply.”

“Of course. Maybe. We would have to ask Her.”

The little bug tilted his head. “Ask who? Is there another stash of shellwood somewhere?”

“Reed here is going to go ask the White Lady if we can return to using Her roots as construction material. He knows Her; he can probably get Her to do it.”

“What? I didn't say I was going to-”

“You will. You have the best chance of convincing Her, besides probably Hornet and the hollow knight, and I don’t know if I can convince them to do it. Go find Her, and don't return until you have a source of materials. We need building materials if we are to survive.” She pushed him forward. “I’d start looking in Dirtmouth. That’s where they have gathered, if I recall correctly.”

He didn’t delay. Strika had a way of getting people to obey, a good quality for a manager. When he got to the station, he noticed a sign had been posted: “Do not use unless speed is necessary.” Then below, in smaller text: “We only have one old stag, and we need him to stay alive as long as possible.” He paused. I could walk, I could get there faster than most other bugs on foot. Then he had an idea. He took the stagways, but without the stag. It felt amazing, leaping through the tunnels at nearly the same speed as the stag. Perhaps even faster. It never occurred to him back home, but his powerful hind legs make him an excellent runner. That is, if jumping counts as running. Perhaps he might be better suited as a messenger in this new age. He reached the Dirtmouth station soon enough. He asked Elderbug if he had seen the White Lady. He pointed towards Spectrum’s house, unable to speak.

Reed knocked on the door.

“Come in, child.” a familiar voice echoed from within.

He opened the door, and saw the White Lady sitting on a bed, gently caressing the sleeping knight. Her roots were long and tangled, spilling out across the floor. Her eyes pierced into his soul, but soon returned to Her child. 

“Be quiet, we do not want to wake him. He needs the rest.” She spoke softly, Her voice like a song. “What is it that you need?”

“Building materials, your highness. Could you once again lend us your roots?”

“Very few live that remember my contributions. Who are you? Are you the old grasshopper by the lake? Our time together was short, but well spent. Or perhaps his wife, or child. Are you the old mantis that lived near the edge of the kingdom? My eyes aren’t what they used to be.”

“I am the son of the grasshopper that guided you to Unn. He told me of how you used to provide the kingdom with whiteroot. I am asking if you can return to that role.”

“I suppose it is required. I can do that, though I believe it might be better if I do it differently than before. Repairs need to be done fast. The bugs need shelter now, and doing things as before would be too slow.” She stood up and placed a kiss gently upon Spectrum's sleeping shell. “I assume work is being done in the city? Show me where I am needed.”

They took the stag back to the city. As they approached the building, all the bugs turned to see the Queen.

“You actually did it!” Strika said, “You got Her to help us. Well done.”

“You’ll have to show Her where repairs are needed. She has a new plan, apparently, and she can’t see all that well.”

The White Lady extended an arm, which eventually found Strika’s hand, and shook it. 

“I would like to be alone for this.”

The two bugs left Her to do Her work.

She stood near the edge of the largest hole in the building, which stretched above the ceiling and below the floor. She cast her arm towards the hole and spread Her roots, feeling their way along the edge of the hole, reaching into every crevice that was torn open by whatever caused the damage. Eventually a complete perimeter was formed and She began weaving a new wall. It needed to be watertight, so it took a while, and a large amount of her energy, but eventually it was finished. She weakened the roots connecting Her to the newly formed wall, causing them to dim. With Her other arm, She coiled around one of the roots, gripping it tightly and pulling it apart. With another of her roots, she sawed away at the root, eventually cutting through. This repeated six times until She was completely severed from the wall. It was done;  at least this first one was. She sat down and sighed. This would be difficult, draining, and painful. But it must be done. However, She had already thought of ways to improve the process. She was brought to the next hole, about the size of a wagon, on the floor above. This time when She extended Her roots She did so out of a single root, so as to make it easier to remove. The process continued until every single hole in the building was filled. Exhausted, she collapsed on a nearby bench outside.

This was good. They can now start using that building as a home. 

She sat there a while, trying to fully appreciate the world around Her. This was the first time in ages She had felt the rain of the city, heard the sounds of bugs living around her - walking, talking, living their lives together - ages since She had seen anything but the dark hole she dug herself into all those years ago. It was quite a peculiar sight. The White Lady, queen of Hallownest, no longer was She clean, neat, graceful. Her roots, once flowing in beautiful rivers along her form, now tangled in a long, uneven mess. Everything about Her had changed for the worse. Everything except Her eyes. Her eyes were still the same glittering sapphire, if not a little glazed from lack of use. Bugs gathered around her, but She made no effort to straighten Her exhausted body. She would not lie to Her people. To those brave enough to ask Her questions, She happily answered. Those bold enough to reach out and touch Her glowing roots, She gently wrapped a coil around their hands.

For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, She felt glad to be Queen of Hallownest.

Chapter Text

The stagways trembled beneath the might of Deepnest’s most powerful inhabitants. Herrah was in the lead, Midwife was closing in, and Hornet was in the back (Sennah had turned back to rescue Selina, and the two returned to the city). All were rushing to meet something they thought they would never see again: a group of weavers.

They burst out of the stag nest and scrambled down the howling cliffs, where they could see the light of a campfire near the border. The weavers had returned!

…

The camp was quiet. All but the nightwatch had fallen asleep, and even Gresh was feeling the seductive whispers of sleep. But he was able to shake himself awake when he heard the rumbling of footsteps. By the gods, have they brought an army? Was this a trap? It sounds like a stampede! He turned towards the source of the sound and saw a long, massive shape winding down the cliffs, approaching the camp at terrifying speed. In a panic he shouted for everyone to wake and prepare to defend themselves, picked his needle off the ground and readied himself in some semblance of a guard, shaking from fatigue.

Suddenly, a needle came flying through the air and struck the ground near him. The wispy light of soul thread tugged at it, and another dark shape was whizzing towards him. A bug wearing a red cloak landed next to the needle and retrieved it, and began walking towards him. He pointed his needle at the stranger, still shaking, but now with a hint of fear. “Stay back!”

“Nno,” the red cloaked figure spoke, her words slurred and broken by heavy breaths, “I’m…noh gon…do that” she pushed his needle aside and collapsed against him. What happened? He could feel her heart pounding against his chest through her cloak. Her breaths were shallow. How long had she been running?  

He looked up and saw that the dark beast from the cliffs was now nearing the camp. Was she running from that? A pale mask was visible at the front of its long form. He could see the details of the mask. It bore a smiling face with four eyes, and seemed to be split cleanly down the middle. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had seen it before…

Within moments it was mere inches from his face. “You’ve returned! I can’t believe it, you’re back! I waited so long for you! So, so long have I waited for you to finally come back!” the centipede said, snaking her long body around the camp.

Then another figure stepped forward. This one was taller, and had a commanding aura.

“So the weavers have come home. I can’t say I never doubted you, but I’m glad you made it. Do you remember me? I have slept for so long, it could have been a few years, it could have been generations.”

The eldest of the group stepped forward. She was an old bug, her shell had long since lost its shine. “How could I forget my queen, Herrah? I was but a child when I last saw you, but I, and all the others, made sure not to forget. Do forgive the young ones, they have never met you, and do not recognize your voice. We thought you dead, thought the whole kingdom was lost. And yet, you look the same. How is it, then, that I have lived my life, suffered the passing of time, and yet you appear as though we had only just left?”

“Stasis, my child. Of both the kingdom and myself. I was put under seal, and have not aged much. My daughter, however, has suffered the full wrath of time.”

Gresh looked at the bug who had not yet released him with confusion. “This is Hornet? I was expecting something…bigger? Stronger?”

“I may not have my mother’s stature, but I assure you I do have her might.” Hornet tightened her grip on gresh’s shell until it nearly buckled under her pressure, proving her point.

“Tell us, my children,” Herrah said, “tell us your stories of distant lands, and how you survived the exodus.” She sat down, ready to listen.

So they did. They told Herrah of their journey to find a new home. The many places they had visited, and the strange creatures they had met. 

The first place they’d visited was a land plagued with heavy rain. They only stayed for a “cycle” as the locals called it. It was quite beautiful, but they did not want to have to wait out a storm every few days. One of the weavers met a strange little creature there. It had a coat of short, white fur, about as long as Hornet was tall, not counting her horns. It looked at them with big, dark eyes. It wanted to understand them. It had the same curiosity as a child observing the world around them, but also the understanding of an adult.

They had found a home in the kingdom of Pharloom, which had many similarities with Hallownest. It had many vastly different areas. It had a great city that gleamed as if it were made of gold. It had a place covered in lush moss, with a temple located within. It had a forest where the trees were made of bone and the rivers flowed with lava. The people there had a love for music. Their buildings were decorated with bells. They taught the weavers how to use their silk in new ways, to string their needles and play them as an instrument.

…

It was time for Kaa to return home. She had long overstayed, and would need a good excuse for why she had taken so long. Fortunately, she did. Hallownest would need support if it was to survive, and she would happily provide. She’d just have to convince enough others to reestablish the old trade routes. She reached the edge of the cliffs and saw a light in the distance, opposite of where she was headed. Huh. Guess I'm not the only one visiting this old place. Wonder what drew them here? She shook her head and began climbing down. She did not need to know everything. Quirrel, on the other hand, did. The questions he asked her, the excitement of her mere presence, such a wonderful man, he was. When she returned, she would let him ask more questions.

She reached the bottom and began slithering away, but stopped after a few paces. Something in the distance caught her attention. It was small, but in the direction she was already looking. A cluster of small, blue lights. She counted them, fourteen blue lights in an odd, symmetrical shape. The shape they formed was…familiar. She had seen a similar arrangement of dots in a painting before, she was sure of it. She went towards it. It’s in the same direction, might as well diverge a few degrees to investigate. As she approached the mysterious object, she searched her memories trying to find where she had seen it before. Something was odd, it appeared to be…moving? Yes…it was moving. It was getting closer . This might once have frightened her, but not this time. She continued slithering towards the thing. At least I’ll reach it sooner if we’re both moving towards each other.  

“Oh. it's one of them." She had read about them in old scrolls: ancient beasts that roamed the wastes. They would aid lost souls, and completely destroy those who would seek to disturb the natural order. Their power rivaled that of gods. They typically traveled in herds, and only traveled alone when they had something important . She could see it in detail, now. It was as tall as one of the homes back in Dirtmouth. Its eyes shone clear and blue. Its shell was rough and spiky, but showed no signs of its great age. Its many legs scrambled beneath its undulating shell.

She reached the mighty beast and bowed. “Oh great Ohmu, what brings you here to this fallen kingdom?”

It spoke to her. Its voice was hard and crackly, like the sound of bones snapping, but deep and powerful. “The seasons are changing, and there is a mighty storm coming. The children of the land must shelter and hide. They must stockpile supplies for a long and harsh winter. The wind and the rain will come first, and soon. It will beat against their homes until they are but rubble. Then will come the lightning. It will burn the rubble, leaving nothing left to salvage. Last will come the snow. All will be buried. Those travelers will not have time to return home. They must take shelter among the children of the Wyrm.”

Kaa turned around to the camp by the cliffs, then back to the behemoth. “What of my homeland? Has the storm already hit Egypt?”

The ohmu spoke again, the very air seeming to buckle under its words. “Yes. I fear they may not survive. The sand is soft, easily cast about. Its fruits are ill suited for the cold. Fortunately, they have many gods to defend against nature's wrath. This kingdom has few gods, old and dying. But it is built deep into the land. The storms can beat against the surface with all its might, but you will be safe, far beneath.” It began to move, its many legs heaving the front plate of its huge shell forward. “May the primordials be kind to you and your kin. May the wind drive your sails, and not break them. May the fruits of your labor be bountiful and sweet.” It did not speak another word. It was not necessary. It had delivered its message.

With a sigh, she turned and headed back.

…

Their conversation was interrupted by a voice coming from the wastes. Hornet tilted her head. “Kaa?”

The snake slithered up to the camp and spoke. “I need you to listen to me.” she paused when she noticed a familiar face. “Oh, hello Hornet. There’s a storm coming. You guys aren’t going to be able to make it back to wherever you came from. You’re going to have to shelter here, same as me.”

“What kind of storm?” Herrah asked.

“Wind, lightning, and snow. Winter is coming, and it’s going to be rough.”

“Hah! We live deep. No storm can ever hope to harm us,” Herrah laughed. “I have never feared a storm, and I don’t plan on doing so any time soon.”

“But what of the rest of the kingdom?” Hornet responded, “we’re barely surviving as we are, a harsh winter might kill us all!”

She was right. There had been no autumn harvests, every bit of food was going to some starving bug’s belly. They would have to work the fields through the winter, and she doubted they were even ready to begin work yet. The mantis tribe would, if convinced, be the only hope for the kingdom, as they would have their winter stockpile. It wouldn't be anywhere near enough, but it would help greatly. They would have to redirect water from the springs to keep the soil warm enough to grow. Hopefully they could figure out a way to do that.

They wouldn't need to move many people. Just Mato, and the few residents of Dirtmouth. They would plug up the well, the door to the kings pass was too large, and boarding up the crystal peak was just unnecessary. Nobody lived there, and the beasts that made their home were fairly deep, and would hopefully just hibernate. As much as they needed all the food they could, they would need the beasts to hibernate. It was important not to mess with their yearly cycle. All work was to be done in the fields. They would need the help of Unn and the White Lady. Their domain was life. They would be able to make the soil more fertile. Hopefully They would be able to speed the maturation process of the crops.

She had survived worse, right? There’s no way a storm could compare to the wrath of a god. She had already learned to survive in an apocalypse. Surely she could keep the rest of the kingdom alive…

Chapter Text

Spectrum woke with a jolt.

“What do you think?” a sickening voice asked him.

He was still in the temple, the chains binding him still held strong. The dream of his freedom was already fading from his mind as the radiance pulsed throughout his entire shell, bursting at the seams trying to free itself.

It was all a dream.

A cruel trick.

He would never be free.

She would not let him.

“Did you find it enjoyable? That taste of freedom? I think it might be my best work, don’t you think?”

Shut. up.

“Oh, don’t tell me it wasn’t to your satisfaction. I know you loved it.”

His vision blurred and faded to orange as the pustules of infection welled up inside his eye sockets, his head nearly bursting at the crack in his mask. And the radiance was in front of him. He turned his head, unwilling to look at her, but she forced it back.

“It will never happen. It was purely a work of fiction, a dream. The seals have already been broken. The dreamers have been slain at the hands of your beloved sister. She didn’t even think, the moment she entered their dreams she unsheathed her nail. The White Lady will rot and die in that little hole She’s dug Herself into.”

Ghost will stop you.

“Oh? You really believe that child has even the slightest chance against me?”

She is more than just a child. She is the void, ready to consume you.

“And I am the light. I banish the darkness. All is bathed in my light ”

She will defeat you.

“Really? Well then, let’s see.”

There she was, little Ghost, there in front of him. She looked at him with sadness in her eyes, but determination in her soul. She broke the chains holding him aloft, and sat in front of him.

“First, however, let’s see how she fares against you ”

Before he could even attempt to protest, his body had already begun attacking his sister, and she was willing to do anything to accomplish her goal.

Even if it meant killing him.

She would not hold back.

But he could.

If I die here, she will take my place. Her mind is impenetrable.

Pillars of radiant orange flame erupted from the ground, a mockery of his once glorious pale blades spell.

“So was yours, until I found my way in.”

No. I was never pure. I was always imperfect. She is pure.

He barely even noticed when her nail dug deep into his leg. The eternity of torment subjected to him by the radiance made anything else pale in comparison.

She will defeat me. And you will not break her.

“You are one of the most powerful warriors in the history of this wretched kingdom. What hope does a child have?”

Suddenly, a needle flew through the air, burying itself into the crack in Spectrum’s mask. Hornet had come to assist Ghost in the fight. She bound Spectrum in her soul thread, bringing him to his knees.

“Now, ghost!” she shouted, and the dreamnail flared into action.

Now you’re done. She’ll fight you directly. She will defeat–

Another flame pillar knocked everyone back. He was freed from Hornet’s bind and the dreamnail was extinguished. The fight was not over yet.

Hornet was always able to put up a good fight against me, and she’s grown more skilled by now, I cannot defeat both of them. They will win, and you will lose.

“Oh, but look at her. The void is already sapping her strength. She won’t last long.”

The wound where his arm had fallen off pulsed. The infection grew there again, this time until his entire side burst open, flinging out blobs of acidic liquid. Another twisted version of one of his spells.

He kicked Ghost down, and turned to Hornet. She was shaking, but still holding strong.

“I’m impressed. The little spider has lasted so long here. Must be the Wyrm’s blood in her. It’s a real shame; she could have been useful.”

He swung.

The blade struck true.

Her head hit the floor as her knees buckled.

“Still think I would let you lose?”

Ghost was back up before he could get close enough to kill. Fighting harder than ever before.

Yes. I will lose.

He was able to stop the assault long enough to point the blade towards himself, and stabbed at the infection growing in his chest.

I will die here. Even if it has to be by my own hand. I will not let you win.

Ghost took the time to heal, and the fight resumed. Nail against nail. Dark against light. Neither side willing to lose.

One of the vessels must die.

“Neat trick. But I still have a few of my own.”

His body swelled. Massive bubbles of infection lifted his body off the ground, only to slam it back down, attempting to crush Ghost.

He was not fighting anymore. Gone were his flurry of blows, his nail only moved to swing once, or rise up in a guard. This was the radiance fighting, using his body as a weapon.

Ghost was getting weaker. She wasn’t able to heal the many wounds she was taking.

“Let's finish this”

He raised his nail high.

And threw it.

A loud crak! echoed through the chamber as the nail struck Ghost in her left eye, pinning her lifeless body to the wall.

Spectrum collapsed, shaking, sobbing.

Then he felt a hand placed on his shoulder.

“That’s enough!” A familiar, raspy voice told him.

Shut up. You’ve won. Let me have but a moment to mourn my loss.

Grimm moved to kneel in front of him, and gently lifted his head to face him.

“This is not real. This is just a nightmare. And nightmares are my domain.”

You really think I would fall for it a second time? And so soon? That seems excessive, even for you.

Grimm sighed. “She really messed you up. I am telling you, this isn't real.” The chamber around him started to fade, and burn away into scarlet embers. “Trust me when I say this, I doubt she would ever do this. She might have been angry, but she isn’t cruel. She would not torture you any more than she needed to.”

He stood up and grabbed Spectrum’s arm. “Now get up.” and he pulled Spectrum up from his bed.

Whuh?

“Like I said, only a dream.” Grimm sat beside Spectrum as he cried, wrapping his arm around Spectrum's shoulder.

“Don’t worry. You’re okay now. It was only a nightmare. I sustain myself with the nightmares of the residents of the kingdom I reside in. You, my friend, have given me the energy to continue past the cycle of the ritual. Your mind is truly the worst of any being I have ever fed off of. We have my sister to thank for that. I apologize for that, my friend. There is little I can do to lessen their torment aside from releasing you completely, and sleep is too important to lose.”

His kind, soft (if sandpaper could be soft) old voice soothed the frightened child.

“You’re okay now. Hornet is alive and well, as are the dreamers. The weavers have returned. Hornet’s people are back. The White Lady is alive and well, working in the city to help rebuild. I can’t say much for your Father, but He did speak fondly of you back in the day.”

He gently rocked with the void child, the swaying motion soothing his tears.

“Everyone is, for the most part, okay. The people here care about you. Everyone is safe. You are safe now.”

Hornet came in, with bad news. “We have to move, it’s not going to be safe here for much longer.”

Grimm glared at her and retorted, his voice back to its usual rasp. “Your comedic timing is impeccable, child.”

“What?”

“I’ve just told Spectrum that he’s safe here. I’ve rescued him from a terrible nightmare and have been trying to soothe his pain. Now, then. Tell me why this peaceful little town is ‘dangerous.’ Is it the infection?” He asked, his tone rising with sarcasm, “has my sister suddenly regained her power and returned to enacting her revenge? Or perhaps a new plague has sprouted? Is it an invasion from some unknown land? A storm of unimaginable might? What kind of danger faces this place? What could be so scary that we must evacuate immediately?”

“A storm, actually. A big one. We need to get everyone on the surface underground, and bring everything with them. There might not be a Dirtmouth to return to when it’s over.”

“Oh?” From the look on her face, he knew she was serious. “It certainly sounds bad. What kind of storm? Tornado? Lightning? Blizzard?”

“Yes. all three, in that order. Will you help me move everything down to the village by the old temple in the crossroads?”

“I can do that, but first I will need your help in moving the tent.”

They left Spectrum's house and moved to the tent.

“I was wondering, how do you normally move that thing?” Hornet asked.

“Well, normally I’m a lot younger. Unfortunately the cycle has been disrupted, and I fear I may never be young again.”

“How so?”

“Ghost was my partner in the ritual. With her gone, the child has no one to cling to, and nobody to gather the scarlet fire. I require someone to dance with, to continue the ritual. Someone strong, like you. Are you ready?”

Hornet nodded, concerned, but ready for anything.

“Give me your hand.”

“Oh, is this like a transfer of soul healing?”

“Similar, yes. Are you willing?”

Hornet paused, “I think so, yes.”

Grimm bit down on her finger, piercing her shell with one of his fangs. Almost instantly his eyes were ablaze with scarlet fire, new energy coursing through his shell. He raised his hands and the tent before them started to shrink and fold into itself, a blazing wagon appearing beneath it. A second wagon formed behind the first. Within seconds it was over, the tent packed away and the flame in his eyes was back to its normal aged red.

“What was that!?”

“A drop of blood. That was all that I required. I needed the power of a god, and you had it. A little diluted, but your mother’s strength helped reduce the effect. Were you a full god, it would have lasted a fair bit longer, but a few seconds is enough.”

A snap of his fingers and the grimmsteed were up and ready to move.

“Load everything into the second wagon, and we’ll be off.”

Grimm, Hornet, and Mato (who had left most of his things behind. His home was built into a cave and he was confident it would be safe) helped load the belongings of all the residents of Dirtmouth into the wagon. Anything that couldn't be packed onto the wagon had to be either carried or left behind. Sly wanted to leave behind his greatnail, as his life as nailsage was over, but Mato and Quirrel wanted to keep it safe.

Eventually everything was packed and ready to go, so they went down into the stagways. The journey down to the crossroad station was relatively short, but it felt long. They were leaving their home, quite possibly never to return. Elderbug refused to leave, but Mato dragged him along.

“Come on,” Hornet said, “you need to move on. Besides, the new town needs a mayor, you’ll fit right in.”

“I’ve lived in that town my whole life,” Elderbug responded, “I was born in that town, and I will die in that town.”

Hornet entered Spectrum's house and saw him sitting on the side of his bed, deep in thought. His hand was pressed against his forehead with his fingers wandering into the cracks on his mask, mindlessly scratching the defect in his smooth shell. His eyes were closed.

It is difficult to tell when a vessel closes their eyes, or where they are looking, but a trained eye can spot the difference. Normally their eyes are an empty void, but when they are looking at you, you can feel the void staring into your soul. Hornet is among the very few who can tell when a vessel is looking elsewhere.

“You probably shouldn't do that,” Hornet said. “It’ll make it worse.”

Spectrum jerked his hand away from his face, and turned to face his sister. Hornet sat down beside him. “What is it?”

Spectrum placed his hand against the stump where his left arm used to be. There was no need for talk, or in his case sign, when pointing got the idea across just as fine.

“Oh, that. I’m sorry, but there’s nothing we can do. Even the strongest healing magic can’t do anything to replace a lost limb, the only thing that can help is the complete reconstruction of the body provided by molting…I doubt either of us can do that anymore. Oh?”

Hornet shuffled back as Spectrum brought out his void limb.

“Oh! The void, of course! This is a far more advanced use of it than I’ve ever seen. You must have practiced while I was gone.”

Spectrum nodded, and began to sign using both arms. It was a little slower than usual, but as he signed his movements became more fluid. “(I had the idea a few days ago. I wanted to be able to help. I was able to get my arm to form, but was interrupted by Iselda. Together we went to Sheo and the nailsmith to reforge my nail into a shell for my void arm, so that I can use it without worrying about the negative effects of the void.)”

The nail was hung by the door next to Hornets needle.

“(unfortunately, it didn’t work. The nail was enchanted, so that any strike the nailsmith made with his hammer only served to repair and hone the blade. Apparently, this was expected. The nailsmith told me how it was common for the extremely rich and powerful to have their weapons enchanted with a seal of repair, which would redirect any impact the blade might receive into repairing it. He commented on how simple mine was, given the importance, but that he was unskilled at detecting magic so it was possible that he just couldn't see it.

They were going to just make one out of their own materials, but I stopped them. Anything that is meant to be in contact with the void must be enchanted to resist it, or the void will destroy it. Unless the spell is stored in the archive, that knowledge is lost. I doubt it is, Father wanted little information regarding the void to be stored in the archive. I thought about getting the material from the kingsmold by…the palace grounds. Iselda went there to retrieve it, but she returned empty handed. Said she wasn’t able to get near it somehow. There was a spell protecting it. I can’t think of why that is.)”

“That sounds like a seal of binding, like the ones that were placed on the dreamers. I also can’t imagine why a simple kingsmold would get such treatment. However,” she got up and went over to the chest where she was keeping Ghost’s things, “I have a way to get around it.'' She unlocked the chest and retrieved the dreamnail, then returned to Spectrum. “This is the dreamnail. It’s an ancient tool made by the moth tribe, and is what allowed me to release the dreamers, and by extension, you.” She ignited the blade and held it out, “Its blade allows the wielder to cut through the veil between our realm and the dream realm. Allow me to demonstrate.”

She swung the spectral blade at Spectrum’s head.

Why does it seem so familiar? Someone is here!

“It’s me, and I doubt you’ve seen it before. Yes, I read your thoughts. It would seem that if the target is awake, I can only obtain a snippet of their thoughts.” She reignited the blade and stared at it. “Though, now that you brought it up, I think I have seen it before, which means you might have as well. Was it in an arena?”

Spectrum nodded.

“Strange. I thought it was just a dream. Though, now knowing the nature of this blade, it very well could have been more than that. I was fighting Ghost again, back in Greenpath where we first met, though she was much stronger than I had ever seen her. Then again in Kingdom’s Edge, where I guarded the King’s brand. The dream would repeat, each time she fought harder, better, eventually the dream would end in my defeat instead of hers. One thing remained constant, however. I could not shake the feeling that I was being watched, that my every move was being carefully observed, analyzed. Like someone was trying to learn… me . Was yours similar?”

“(Yes. I was in the temple, surrounded by chains. But I was unbound. I was in my prime. I fought her with everything I ever had, trying to protect her from…something. The dream would end in her defeat every time, until eventually…she won. There was a sickening cry from above, along with a light, and the dream ended. Then it was back to me winning, both of us fighting harder. The dreams were much less frequent, and she had a look of disappointment when she lost, as though she had gone through great challenges only to be stopped by me. However, after only four attempts, she defeated me, and the light returned. The light was familiar, it was the light of the radiance. We were together again, my brothers and sisters, all of us were together again, united against the light. The dream did not end there, I watched from below as the light grew, the radiance returning to her prime as well, only to be snuffed out. I do not remember the last bits, but I believe it was the Shade Lord.)”

Hornet paused. This was a lot of information to process. He was there. The battle that would shape the future of Hallownest, the battle few even know happened. He witnessed it unfold. “I saw the aftermath. I came just in time to witness it. The godseeker in the junk pit. I saw void spilling out of its eyes, leaking from every crevice of its shell. Then it exploded in a mess of flailing tendrils, and as soon as it happened, it was gone. Later I would come to see the Shade Lord, face to face.” she paused.

“Would you like to meet Him, too?”

The response was obvious. Vigorous nodding and signing “(how?)”

“He told me that I could find Him in the dreams of any living vessel, and as far as I’m aware, that means only you. It also means I need to enter your dreams, not just read your thoughts, so you need to be sleeping.”

“(do I have to? I fear I might return to the temple if I were to dream)”

“I don’t know if there’s any other way. Do not worry, I will be with you. Think of somewhere good, focus on somewhere peaceful. If all else fails, I will wake you.

He laid down on his bed and closed his eyes. Hornet watched as his breathing slowed, eventually calming down and finding its rhythm. She waited a while to make sure he was indeed sleeping. Then she struck him with the dreamnail, and everything went black.

…

She awoke in a bright room. Everything was washed in bright white light. No, everything is white. I’m in the palace. She looked around. Not just the palace, the throne room. There was a bright light sitting on the throne, she couldn't make out any details, but she knew who it was meant to be. “Why did it have to be here?”

“Where else could it be? This is my home, where I belong,” a strange voice responded. It was deep and powerful, but also small and gentle. It had the might of a god, but the soul of a child. It was a voice never heard by anyone, but it felt so familiar, like family met only as a child and forgotten. She turned towards the source of the voice and saw Spectrum kneeling before the throne. He was in his ceremonial armor of the past, but his body bore the same scars he had in the present. He stood up, and turned to face her. “Hornet, you…right. The dreamnail.” his armor fell away, and the light on the throne disappeared. “We’re here for someone else.”

“Yes, we are. I have questions, but they will need to be answered later. Any ideas as to how we are supposed to find him?”

“Probably through the door that isn’t supposed to be there.” Spectrum pointed at a dark door. It stood out like a sore thumb in the perfect whiteness of the palace. A dull gray door, made of ancient rock. It had a strange symbol on it, one that they did not recognize, one far older than even Hallownest itself. They approached it with caution. Neither had any idea what could be waiting beyond the door. As Spectrum drew near it, it began to glow. As he got closer, the light grew to fill the contours of the door. He placed his hand on the symbol and the door opened, revealing an empty void. They felt a breeze as all the air was sucked into the void, leaving a cold stillness.

“Do we go in?” Hornet asked. Her voice sounded strangely distant, even to herself, as though she was across the room. Neither of them moved, both watching the void, searching for something. Spectrum leaned in. Something, or someone , was calling him. He leaned in closer, and was pulled in, disappearing into the void.

“Spectrum!” Hornet called out, but there was no response. She grimaced, and stepped into the darkness.

…

—we meet again, and so soon. What brings you here?—

The Shade Lord sat in front of her, so small this time. Only slightly taller than Spectrum. Where is he? “Where’s my brother?”

—he is over there, enjoying his well deserved reunion.—

She looked, and saw him sitting down, surrounded by the glowing eyes of his siblings.

“And Ghost?”

—sitting in his lap, telling him her stories.—

“Good, good. If he can reach this place on his own, that would be a huge help. He’s been plagued with nightmares ever since he got out of the temple. If he can know that his sister will be waiting for him in his dreams, it will be much easier for him to fall asleep.”

—there is something on your mind as well, tell me. Have a seat and let’s talk.—

She sat down on the chair that appeared behind her. “I would like Your help. There’s a storm coming and I fear the worst. I do not know if we are capable of surviving a winter storm when we are having so much trouble surviving as it is. A long winter might kill us all, and that would mean Your effort to redeem Senna would be for nought.

—I’m afraid there is nothing I can do. Little more than a flame can help cool a bug, or water can save one from drowning. My domain is the void. My power is over nothingness and destruction. The void cannot build, only consume all.—

“But can You help his arm? That is Your domain, he belongs to You.”

—yes, that is something I can do. However, it would be better if I did not interfere. Continue with your plan to retrieve the void-resistant steel from the kingsmold. You will find all that you need and more. Go now, there is much work to be done.—

She left the dream, allowing Spectrum to rest and be with his siblings, and headed straight for the palace grounds carrying the dreamnail.

When she reached it, she first placed her hand on the seal to examine it.

That’s definitely a seal of binding, an advanced one, too. This is more intricate and tightly woven than any seal I’ve ever seen! What is He hiding?

She didn’t delay to theorize, she had the answer in her hands. She ignited the dreamnail and swung it at the kingsmold.

…

Again she awoke in a strange, bright place. She was still standing in the palace grounds, in front of the entry gate, but now the palace stood before her in all its glory.

No. it can't be. There’s no way He could possibly, He did. He put the entire palace inside a kingsmold! That explains the complexity of the seal. He didn’t want anyone getting in.

She entered the gate and came across the remains of a kingsmold. She knelt down and analyzed it. The…body…is fresh. The void hasn’t seeped through the floor yet, there’s still some drops puddled inside the shell. This was killed recently. She stood up and looked around, but of course, the killer was nowhere to be seen. Someone else has visited this place, couldn't be more than a week ago.

She walked into the main hall and jumped back in surprise. The entire palace had been transformed. Where there once was a great hall now stood a variety of platforms floating above what seemed to be a bottomless pit, clouded by the edge of the dream. It wasn’t a problem to get through, more of a curiosity. Why did He change it? What purpose does this challenge serve? It’s further protection, certainly, but what is He hiding? What is He hiding it from? It’s already protected by an advanced seal that can only be broken with an awoken dreamnail, did He know of its existence? As she moved, she examined her surroundings. Occasionally there would be furniture off to the side, moved out of the way and covered with a dust sheet. As though the place was being left, but there were plans on returning, and the place must be kept clean. The sheets, and everything else, was covered in a coat of dust. But not where I’m going. The platforms have been disturbed. All the more evidence that she was not the first to walk these broken halls in recent history.

A strange sound came from beyond the corner. The next room was filled with sawblades, dashing through the air, hovering in collections forming walls. Spears could be seen thrusting out of ports in the floors and walls.

“This is ridiculous,” she sighed.

But now her curiosity was overwhelming. What in the world could possibly demand this much protection?! Then it clicked. He does. He’s hidden Himself here. That’s the only thing that could come close to needing such extreme measures. He’s taken the palace and turned it into a hidden fortress. Every measure He could take to protect His shell He took and more.

I must reach the end.

I must reach the throne room, where no doubt He is hiding.

I must find Him.

It was a long and dangerous path, but she took it. She dashed across pits of spikes, bouncing over chains of sawblades and groups of spears, and swung on her needle and thread through long tunnels lined with thorn-riddled vines. She only stopped once. There was a hole in the wall, in the first room with buzzsaws on the second floor, above the atrium. It was freshly broken open, which was what drew her to it. Through it was a dark corridor leading to a large open room, which was of course filled with all manner of hazards. In the corridor there was a seal of binding, and there was a pedestal at the edge of the corridor. Inscribed on the pedestal read the words: To witness secrets sealed, one must endure the harshest punishment.

Strange. What could this be? Secrets sealed, harshest punishment. I can imagine what the “harshest punishment” might be, but what secret is so great that it must be sealed away, in a castle made to repel any intruders, hidden away beneath a seal so strong that it can only be broken by an ancient tool previously thought to be a myth? I must return here at a later date to find out. But right now I’m here for something else.

She continued upwards, the path only growing more difficult. Eventually she reached a place she knew led directly to the throne room. But just before taking the lift, she saw another freshly opened hole, this time in the floor. She jumped down the hole, walked through a short hallway, and her heart stopped.

In front of her…was the nursery. There was a chair facing away from her, and towards the cradle. She walked slowly, gingerly, towards the cradle that once held the child vessel. She turned and saw an imprint of the White Lady on the chair. She stumbled back and knocked the cradle, and a music box began to play. It was a simple tune, a lullaby for the pale prince. Despite never being in this room before, never even knowing of the music box’s existence, she had heard the song before.

Once, when I was near Ghost’s shade, I heard this song. A twisted version, the memory of a childhood stolen away from her. Chills ran through her shell as she listened to the original song. Now I stand before the memory she was denied, and he was given. 

I shouldn’t be here. This place is not for me. But… she pulled open the drawer and picked up the music box, its notes slowing as it ran out. I could return the box to its owner. She delicately placed it inside one of the pockets in her cloak. I must be extremely careful when I leave, as to not damage this precious cargo.

She took the lift and entered the throne room.

It was dark. There were no lights to be found inside the room, the only illumination coming from the window by the lift. It took her a moment to adjust to the darkness after going through the bright palace. She could see the throne in the center of the room.

It was empty.

In front of it, on the floor, was her Father’s corpse.

She knelt in front of it. She lifted His head, there was a crack running down from the left eye.

He was dead.

The void killed him. She could tell by the darkening of His shell around the eyes and along the crack.

She dropped His head, letting it crack against the floor. He had been dead for a long time, the shell was brittle and hollow.

Even gods die.

She kicked His lifeless corpse. “That’s what You get!” she shouted, “that’s what You get when You mess with the void! You thought You could avoid it, You thought You could stop it, could stop her. You stopped everything but Your own demise! Your kingdom rots with Your corpse, Father!” vile hatred spitting from her lips as she denounced His name. “You deserved this! Your children have succeeded where You failed at everything! You deserved death, deserved to rot in Your hidden fortress. You shut everything out, sacrificed everything. Your children, Your wife, Your kingdom, and Your life. Was it worth it? You always said no cost was too great, so was it? The ultimate price, was it worth it!?” she sat down, tears of anger flowing from her eyes, “answer me, Father, was it worth it!?”

“Yes, it was.”

She jumped as the Pale King sat beside her. At least, what was left of Him. His form was ghostly, shimmering in the dreamlight.

“All of it was worth it. For this. For you. For the redemption of My kingdom. I was wrong. And because I was wrong I had to make the ultimate sacrifice. This was the only way I could fix it. I couldn’t reason with the light. This was the best ending. I’m so glad you made it here, to this timeline. There were so many variables, so little time to make everything right, I could only hope that you chose the correct path. Everything I did was for this. The future is always in flux, and I can only do so much to steer us forward.”

“Shut up.”

“I-”

“I said shut up!”

Silence.

“I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask to be born into a world that was ending. I didn’t ask to be brought up as a warrior, didn't ask to be forced to survive the apocalypse! Do You ever think about the people Your plans effect? About what we might think? How we might feel? Do You even have the capacity to feel remorse?!”

“Yes. Every day. I could hardly sleep at night knowing how much blood was on My hands.”

“Your hands? Hah! You’re practically drowning in it!”

“I know. At times I was unable to move due to the weight of My sins. But I did. I moved forward, because I had to. Because it was the best thing, the only thing, I could do.”

“What about my mother? What about their mother, Your wife?”

“She left me, and I deserved it. She has every right to resent Me, and what I forced upon Her. There is no love left for me.” He sighed. “Do you know why I chose her? Why I chose your mother? Because I knew I had to leave someone capable to lead Hallownest after I’m gone. I chose her not because she would make a good dreamer, that would only be Monomon, Lurien asked for it, and I accepted the extra help. I chose Herrah because I needed you. I needed a child of both worlds, one who could unify all of Hallownest.”

“So that’s all I am? Another tool to reach Your goals? Someone to finally take Deepnest?”

“No, no. I loved you, I always loved you. You were my most prized…you were the best thing to happen to me. You helped keep me sane during it all, because I could show my love to you, even if you refused it. I could not show my love to him, to Spectrum.”

“You’re not allowed to use that name. Call him the pure vessel, like you always did. That’s what he was for you. Just another tool.”

“Why can I not call my son by his name? I knew he was not pure, but that was what I needed. If I chose her, the stasis would be eternal, and you would never live the life you were meant to live, no one would. I needed someone strong enough to last a while, but not forever.”

“Then you knew the torment he would go through? The endless torture he would be subjected to? And you allowed it to happen?”

“That is why I trained him so hard. I could only hope to prepare him as best as I could.”

“What else did you know about.”

“That he would need a replacement for his arm. That is what I worked on in My time here. It was a race against time, I knew the void would consume Me, so I worked without rest to give him the only gift I ever could. You will find it in the workshop.”

Hornet ran out, not giving Him even the slightest glance.

“And Hornet, please, before you go. Tell him I’m proud of him.”

Hornet made a very rude hand gesture towards Him as the lift lowered.

When she reached the bottom she was surprised to see the palace had returned to normal. The sawblades, the spears, the spikes, the bottomless pits and the floating platforms were all gone. She walked through the palace, noting that everything was the same as she remembered it, and went to the workshop and found the arm He made sitting on a table. 

It was probably the most ornate thing she had ever laid eyes on. The whole thing was made of pure pale ore, something never seen before. The plates were all engraved with intricate patterns, and on the shoulder was the Kings brand. It all fit together seamlessly, and yet as she moved it she found no hindrance in the natural range of motion an arm made of chitin would have. The hands were filled with parts no larger than the tips of her fingers. Each and every piece of the arm was molded to perfection and adorned with the finest of engravings. There was a mechanism in the shoulder that detached the arm from the body, leaving a plate to cover the hole in his body formed by the extended use of void. The plate would then open when the arm was reattached, allowing the void to flow freely into the arm.

It was a love letter to His son.

The last and only sign of affection He could ever give him.

Chapter Text

Hornet knocked on the door. She would open it herself, but her hands were full of arm.

Some movement was heard, and the door opened.

“Hello, Spectrum.”

“(Hello, Hornet. What do you have?)” Spectrum signed in return.

“A gift. Two gifts, really. Should we move inside?”

Spectrum nodded, and shifted his body to allow passage inside his second new home. (Hopefully this would be the last “new home” he would need.)

She placed the wrapped gift on the table and procured a much smaller package from inside her cloak.

“I would like for you to open this one first.”

With a fair bit of fiddling with his only arm, he was able to remove the cloth wrapping from the box. A music box? “(Thank you, it’s quite nice. But…how am I intended to use it? I cannot turn the handle with only one hand.)”

“That will be fixed soon, but for now, I can play it for you.”

He gave the box to Hornet and listened as she wound it up and let it play. It didn't take long for him to realize what song it was, and his body froze. He had not heard that song in a long, long time. Not since he was a child. Before everything went downhill. The memories tied to this song were pure and good. He sat down, unable to bear the weight of his emotions and his body.

The song slowed as the spring lost its tension. Hornet manually turned it to help it reach the end. After the final note was struck she placed it on the table next to the other gift.

“I was unable to harvest the old kingsmold. It had a protective seal far stronger than any I had seen before. The gaps between the strands were barely larger than the strands themselves. I used the dreamnail to break the seal, but ended up entering the dream instead. Inside was the palace, warped and twisted into a gauntlet of intense acrobatics filled with sawblades, spikes, thorns and bottomless pits. On the sides, however, was furniture draped in dust cloths, as though it was prepared to be returned to. Near the end I found the nursery, and I found this music box.”

She picked up the arm and began unwrapping it.

“After that, I reached the throne room. And saw Father’s corpse. I don’t think he’s coming back, though, he died of void poisoning. I’m not sure if His regenerative powers can protect Him against the void. I was still able to talk to Him, though. A ghost, or shade, or whatever, remained, and He told me how proud of you He was.”

She finished unwrapping and held the arm out.

“He asked me to give you this. I don’t know when he began working on this, but he knew it would be needed. He knew we would get here, and that this was the best possible ending for us. I’m not sure how far back his planning for this goes, perhaps even to before the outbreak. Here, let me help you put it on.”

She detached the cap at the shoulder and retrieved some straps from inside the arm. She looped the straps through the cap and helped him put it on, tightening it until the cap was firmly in place on his stump, and activated the gripping mechanism that clamped onto his shell. 

There was something else inside the arm, however. A piece of parchment folded neatly away. She took it out and unfolded it.

It was a letter from the Pale King.

My dearest children,

I must begin by apologizing, I have forced so much upon you without your consent. But then I must congratulate you for pushing through it all. By now, I am most certainly dead. There are many struggles coming your way, and I won’t be there to help guide you. I know this. I knew this. That is why I did what I did. Ever since I drove the moth from my kingdom I knew this would come to pass. The branches of future paths cut in half the moment I did it. It was a mistake. I know this and have made peace with it. If you are reading this, then the greatest available path has been taken. Among the other t`melines are many where Ghost never returns, or where you, Spectrum, are killed and replaced. I am glad these did not happen. I hope these do not happen.

I am writ ng this just after the arm has been finished. As far as I am aware, Ghost has not yet made hcr way back. I am dying now. The vo’d, as wel1 as my sins, have finally caught up to me. I just wan t you to kn ow. I lov e you. I havc a1 ways loved  you. I iust cou/dnt sh o w it. I mig ht have bccn able t   do it, but thc chance of you reachjng this p oin7 was dra stically lower. I am spr ry, I could n t take t at ris k.

$i ccr/y, V@1#)(%

Void stains splattered the bottom of the page. How much time did He have left? Clearly, not much.

“(is that…His name, at the bottom?)”

“I think so. He never did share that with us, did He.”

She placed the note next to the music box and returned to putting the arm on.

She opened the cap using a rotating mechanism along the edge, and reattached the arm. Before he could fill it with void and begin using it, she double checked that everything was securely in place. The arm was firmly attached to the cap, but still had full range of rotation. There were quite a few locks in place to keep the void contained; the arm could not be removed from the cap while it was open, the cap had two parts holding it onto his body (the straps and the clamps) and there were likely more that they could not yet see.

“Alright, give it a try. See if there’s any point where the mobility is lacking, or where the void can leak out.”

Spectrum unleashed his void, filling the arm completely. He tried moving it, and found it remarkably easy. It was far easier than the naked void limb, almost as easy as his real arm.

“Move faster. I want to give this thing a complete stress test before I feel comfortable with you using it with other bugs.”

He went outside and grabbed a large, heavy rock, lifting it up and moving it around. He returned with no complaints about the arm.

“(spar?)”

Hornet tilted her head, “why would you want that?”

He went and picked up his nail. “(Stress test, like you said. If we are doing a stress test, then what could be a better challenge than combat? Besides, it’s been ages and I would like to refresh myself and see how you’ve improved over the years. This arm was my spellcasting arm, so I also want to know if it is able to channel soul as well.)”

“I don't see anything wrong with that logic. I guess we could do it up in dirtmouth, since that place is going to get destroyed soon anyway.”

They went up to dirtmouth, walking along the stagway.

“Only problem is, back in the day, it could take weeks to recover from injuries sustained during a duel. I don’t have that kind of time.”

“(We’ll just not go that far, then. We’ll aim for nonlethal blows and stop as soon as one of us gets injured or is ready to stop. Besides, you’ve already set everyone to work, you can afford some time off.)”

“I suppose, but still. I would rather we don't end up hurting ourselves.”

“(Me too. But don’t think this means I will go easy on you. Spars are meant for training your skills, and there’s no point in training if what you are doing isn’t what you are training for.)”

“Good. I also want to know how your skills might have deteriorated over the years. Perhaps this time I’ll beat you.”

“(Perhaps, or maybe I’m still better than you.)”

They arrived at the surface. They were both eager to begin. Hornet had not engaged in full combat since her fight against Ghost by the wyrm corpse. Even then, she was fighting with everything she had and lost to a child. Had her skills declined in the stasis? Her fighting was limited to simple beasts and husks, it was quite possible that the nuance of skilled combat had weakened in her, but what about Spectrum? He had not seen combat since before the stasis. He trained among the best and was often the victor, but surely his time in the black egg had severely weakened his prowess. And his new, unfamiliar arm would surely be detrimental. But he looked confident. It did not matter. All that mattered was how they acted now.

They faced each other, several paces apart, knelt down in respect for the opposing combatant, and the duel began.

Hornet dealt the first blow with a lunge. She was always faster, assisted by her smaller size, but Spectrum was not much slower. He, too, was built for speed, his long limbs and slender frame could move far faster than any other bug close to his size. 

He deflected her needle with ease and returned with a flurry of swings, each blow with enough strength to kill. She dodged, leaping and flipping backwards. The first spell was cast as he thrust his nail into the soil, causing pillars of light to scatter the field, and giant blades of pure energy to erupt from the ground. Hornet launched her needle towards him, hoping to get him while his focus was still on his spellcasting. He shifted his nail to block the projectile before even releasing it from the ground. The clatter of clashing nails rung across the canyon, echoes mixing with each strike. He thrust his left arm out, ready to barrage her with soul nails. The new limb shone as soul was focused through it, glowing from every contour and engraving. Flaps popped out, causing a pause in the battle. This was unexpected, and new information about the arm was more important than a test of strength. 

He aimed away as Hornet approached to analyze it. The flaps were channeled, similar to the crest of the godseekers, allowing more soul to be concentrated and flow through the limb. The nails shot out, and they noted how powerful it looked. It was expected that his spells would be slightly weaker, but this felt stronger than what he could achieve before. A burning smell trailed behind as the soul nails ripped through the air.

“Interesting,” Hornet commented, “I would like to see that again. Shall we resume?”

He nodded.

The fight continued for quite some time. Nail and needle clashing against each other, soul blades lighting the area with their hot glow, wind carrying the dust kicked up by their motion along the canyon. It all continued until another surprise from the arm brought a stop to the flow of combat. Hornet breached his defenses and struck the metal arm, and a seal flared into vision.

“A seal? Just how much time did He have on this?”

Spectrum held out his arm for Hornet to strike again. The arm had a protective seal woven all around it. No, it’s woven into it. The engravings covering the limb were laced with magic, the whole thing was likely filled with arcane power.

“Wait, what's this?”

Another surprise, the pattern was more than a simple seal. It was an art piece, depicting the life of the vessel. From the depths of the abyss found on the palm to the reborn prince on the shoulder. The battle of the Blackwyrm wrapped around his wrist and his imprisonment was shown just beneath the shoulder.

“Perhaps, call it a draw for now?”

“(That is acceptable.)”

They returned to the village by the lake feeling accomplished. They tested the arm, and it surpassed expectations. Quirrel will enjoy examining that. Hornet chuckled.

“How much do you think Lemm would offer for it?”

Spectrum shook in silent laughter. “(a lot! But the question is, which would he find more valuable? Zote’s ego translated into geo, or my arm?)”

It felt good to laugh again. It had been far too long for them.

Chapter Text

Quirrel watched in awe as Grimm set up the tent in a cave chamber near the underground village.
“How does it work? There’s no way all that fit in that tiny cart.”
“Magic. It’s quite a simple spell, really. Though it is difficult for lesser beings, as it requires a great amount of energy few lesser beings have. For a higher being like me, though, it’s nothing…well, was nothing. I needed help from Hornet to regain the strength it requires.”
“I’ve heard you and Senna are siblings. Or…were siblings. Is it alright for me to bring it up? From what I’ve heard from Senna, you two didn't exactly leave on good terms.”
“It is quite alright, those wounds have healed long ago…the mental wounds, at least. I’m still trapped in this mortal vessel. She tried to kill me. And she did a very good job, I am now split into three separate entities: The vessel you are currently speaking to, which is my main body. It lives and dies as a lesser being - albeit a very powerful one - in an endless cycle of birth and death. The child was meant to be my successor, but the ritual was disrupted with Ghost’s death. The second entity is the nightmare king. It is the remnants of who I was. He is trapped within my mind, unable to enter the living realm. The third is the nightmare heart. It is the source of my power. I guess you could call it the heart of the god that was Grimm. It still bears the wounds suffered in that conflict. I serve the nightmare heart, as does everyone else in my troupe. Brumm has grown apart from the ritual. He believes the cycle must end, ‘a song without an end is no song at all,’ but he does not know the true purpose of the song. He gathered the flame at the deepest corner of the kingdom, where I could not see him. I worry what he planned to do there, perhaps scheme against me with Ghost. I am glad nothing came of it.”
He finished setting up the tent and came up to Quirrel.
“Would you like to come inside? I assure you it is far more comfortable than this cave.”
Quirrel nodded his head excitedly, and Grimm gave Quirrel a tour of the tent.
“It is different from how it was on the surface. You didn't see it, but I suppose there wasn’t much to see. Just a stage, and the few extra rooms needed for storage. That is because it was serving the ritual. Now it is serving the troupe. We use this when on long journeys. It has everything you could need from a place of residence, or at least the essentials. There isn't a main gathering room; we have no need for one. There isn't a bathroom for obvious reasons. It doesn't have a separate kitchen and dining room. Really just a large bedchamber for the troupe to share and a kitchen/dining/living room. Not too dissimilar to the houses I’ve seen in the village. I find it quite cozy, don’t you?”
“Well, I prefer to have my papers in a separate room from the food, but I do see the appeal in such small houses. I also see why they are so common in poorer regions. They are quite cheap and easy to build. Many of the houses in dirtmouth took it one step further and put everything in one large room.”
They sat at the table.
“I know what you want,” Grimm said. “You want answers. You have so many questions running about in that mind of yours. Such an inquisitive mind is the perfect fit for Monomon’s apprentice. But the first question, oh I wonder, what about me and my troupe do you wish to know that cannot wait any further to be explained?”
“Well, it's not about you, actually. It's about the Shade Lord. I already know about you, but there is barely anything about the Shade Lord that I know. It is such an ancient thing, the void, barely anything about that ancient civilization survived to the present day.”
“Ah.” Grimm’s face turned dark. “You wish to know more about Him. I will tell you, but I do not enjoy speaking on this topic.”
“We can talk about something else.”
“No. If I do not answer you, your mind will continue to dwell on the void, and I do not want you to seek information from the source. It is better for me to tell you.”
“The void is an ancient power, far older than anything either of us has ever seen. The void worshiping civilization is quite recent for the void. But first I feel it is important for me to explain some basics. There are many different domains gods can possess, yes? Light, dark, life, death, plant and dream, almost every aspect of existence is overseen by the gods. They are sorted into generations. For gods, a generation is quite different from the kind you know. Whole hosts of gods can live and die under a single generation. For us a new generation means a new domain, and even then there are exceptions. When two gods of different domains come together, there is a possibility their child will have a new domain, born from the ones their parents had. Think of plant, a fairly old domain, what do you think is needed to create plantlife?”
“Well, you need soil.”
“Earth, yes.”
“And you need…seeds, but I don't think that’s a domain. Water? No, without seeds that just gets mud. Life. Am I correct?”
“Yes. That is how a new domain is created. Almost every domain can be separated into its parent domains. All except for six. They go by many names, but for now I will call them the first generation. They form the foundation upon which all of existence is based. These are: water, earth, fire, air, order, and chaos. Without any one of these, existence itself could not work.”
“Long ago, before this world had fully formed, air and chaos came together and birthed void. They also birthed many other domains, it was quite the orgy, but those are irrelevant to this discussion. In that time, void served as a garbage disposal. Many things were made that should not be made, all was in flux. They needed somewhere to put all the creations that did not serve the greater purpose. So they were given to the void. Imagine a pit with no bottom, or sides. A hole in the world that, once entered, could not be escaped. That is the void. For a time, it was pleased to serve as a waste dump. But as you can imagine, it grew quickly tired of its less than honorable role. When it saw its children receive more praise in their youth than it did in its life, the void grew angry.”
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but how do you know this? It’s not like you were there.”
“How do you know how Hallownest was formed? You were not there either, yet you know it like you were. These kinds of things are what we teach our children, my friend. Knowledge that must be passed on throughout the ages. But I will skip through the rest of the story, we are focusing on the void, not the creation of this world.”
“The void was forbidden from creating any children of its own domain, only ones with new domains. The void watched from the shadows as life took root, grew to walk, and grew to understand. It grew bitter. So the void claimed the first civilization. When their buildings grew too tall for its liking, it consumed them. The void continued this wrathful destruction, and earned many names. Many of them are slightly wrong in some way, due to a lack of understanding. The void is not destruction, nor darkness, nor death. Void is the complete erasure of one's existence. To destroy is to leave rubble, void leaves nothing but a hole where there once was something. Darkness, in a way, doesn’t exist. Much like cold, darkness is simply the absence of light. Void is the absence of everything. I have often wondered what its true color is, its black appearance is simply due to it not reflecting any light at all.”
“The reason why the Shade Lord is acting this way is because it has lost its memory. The consciousness of the children of the Worm has replaced the void’s own. I fear it will not last forever. The void is as ancient as time and has almost certainly suffered far worse. Though…it is possible this is the first time the void has been completely separated from its consciousness. Perhaps it was done by gods far stronger than I to cease the voids aggression. But I do not know for certain, and I have found it is better to prepare for the worst than hope for the best. They do not even remember Their name. I have told Them, begged Them to stay away from Their forgotten memories, that that door is best left locked and They should refrain from searching for the key. But, knowing Ghost, I fear it is not long before They find it. Anger that ancient is hard to calm.”
“I ask that you do not dwell on this subject. Call me superstitious, but I believe even our thoughts on it will quicken its awakening.”

Chapter Text

Hornet found Alouette lounging in one of the newly rebuilt towers. 

"Taking a break, or have you not even started?" she asked.

"Why bother?" Alouette whined, "It's not like there's anything I can do."

Hornet sighed. "Why do I even try with these fools?" she muttered under her breath.

"Besides, why should I listen to some beast who–Ack!"

Hornet grabbed her throat and lifted her up from her seat. She wasn’t gripping hard enough to choke the worthless butterfly, but enough to make her strength clear.

"I've had it up to here with your pompous attitude. I hate pulling rank, but it is clear that you only listen to people with similar status. I am not 'some beast,' I am the daughter of the Pale King and Herrah the beast. I am the princess of both Hallownest and Deepnest. There are only two beings alive in the entire kingdom that are higher than me: the Queen, and Spectrum, as he is the eldest child of the King. However, unlike you and the rest of your formerly rich friends, I had to earn my place at my Fathers side. Unlike you, who had everything handed to you on a silver platter - don't try to deny it; the only reason you got your education is because your parents bought it for you and I know for a fact there were plenty of other bugs that could have easily surpassed the likes of you if they could afford the education - unlike you I had to prove my worthiness in blood. From the moment I could lift a needle I had to fight to survive. I trained with the weavers, the bees, and the five great knights. I had to hunt for my food to live, I had no butler to hand me everything I could want, and if I was unable to feed myself I would starve. I had a friend during this time, the daughter of queen Vespa. Unfortunately, she was weak, and was killed during a duel before she could even earn her name. We were close, and I starved myself in my grief. It did not last long. Eventually my hunger brought me to my senses, and I struggled to regain my strength for days."

Hornet stopped herself, realizing she was ranting, and sighed. "But that does not matter anymore. What matters now is that we all survive. Your skills are invaluable to us right now, but if you refuse to use them then you will serve better as a meal for my people. Wealthy bugs always taste better, more fatty from a life of ease."

Realizing her prey was struggling to breathe, she released her grip, allowing the chef to collapse to the ground. "Do you know what your job is? What I need you to do right now, if you want to keep your pathetic life?"

"N-no, your highness."

"Simply address me by name, I have no need for such pleasantries."

"As you wish, Hornet."

Hornet sighed, "I need you to go through the city, and gather all the supplies you can find: food stores, pots, pans, kitchenware, anything. Your skills allow you to vastly improve the quality of a meal. The farmers are currently growing golden bamboo in the majority of their fields, as it is the fastest growing plant available to us for sustenance. Unfortunately in its raw state, despite being relatively high in nutrition, it is quite bitter. I and many of the formerly lower class bugs wouldn't mind eating such things, but I highly doubt you and your formerly upper class friends would even let it enter your mouths. What I want from you and your team is to take the shoots and prepare them in a way that is both palatable and more filling. I have faith in your skill, but I struggle to believe you will do it for free. I need you to understand that the only payment available to you is survival and the praise of your peers after a job well done. Do you understand?"

The butterfly nodded.

"Good. I have already gathered your team for you. They are waiting outside. Those who grew up impoverished will help you find what is still good to eat and what must be thrown out. I doubt you have that skill."

...

Spectrum returned to Sheo's hut. With Hornet going after that chef, and Mother working in the city, Sheo and the nailmaster were the next best people available to seek company with. Besides, he had a gift for the nailmaster. 

He was glad to see that a path had been cleared through the brambles that led to his hut; he really didn't want to have to crawl through the upper tunnel again.

He knocked on the door.

"Come in!"

He opened the door to see the two huddled over something he could not see: likely their latest art project.

"Ah, Spectrum!" Sheo exclaimed, "it is good to see you again. I must apologize about the arm situation. I'm sure you were told how we couldn't salvage the kingsmold."

"(about that, I have something to show you.)" He signed with his one arm, then pulled back his cloak to reveal his artificial arm.

"Oh?" Sheo tapped the nailsmith to draw his attention to the mechanical marvel.

"Oh! What is this?" The nailsmith asked, running up to get a closer look. “Where did you find this? Oh, what incredible detail, this must have taken ages to make. Whoever crafted this masterpiece must have been godlike in their skill."

Spectrum gently pushed him away so he could use his arms to sign, "(it was a gift from my Father. This was His last work before His passing.)"

"How nice. Wait– He's dead?"

"(Yes. From void poisoning, I'm told.)"

"That's terrible, what will we do without Him?"

"(Our best, my friend. That is all we can hope do to.)"

Spectrum welcomed the comforting embrace of the old nailsmith.  He knew the nailsmith could only imagine how much the loss of his Father meant to him. Spectrum allowed himself to mourn with the two for a moment, but steeled himself shortly after. He had other business to do. One day the kingdom would have time to mourn its many, many losses. But that day would have to wait quite a while, as there were more important things to do for everyone.

"(I have something for you, nailsmith.)"

"What is it?"

Spectrum procured the object from his cloak and handed it to the nailsmith. It was long and thin, wrapped in delicate cloth.

The nailsmith's eyes widened as he unwrapped the thing he had held once before. It was only a month ago, and yet so much had happened in that short time that it felt like ages past. Tenderly he removed the final layer of cloth to reveal the pure nail that had once belonged to Ghost.

"Why me? Surely such a precious item belongs with the family of its owner?"

"Wait, whose nail is it?" Sheo asked. "I do not recognize it."

The nailsmith turned to Sheo and explained, "This is my finest work, I have taken this nail from the dull old thing it was when Ghost first came to me to the pure nail that, I think, I still don't know all the details, struck down the old light. I once begged to be felled by this blade, to feel the finest edge strike true.” 

He turned back to Spectrum. “And now I beg you to keep it. I am not worthy to be its keeper. Besides, is it not among the few things left of her for you to remember her by?"

"(Yes. It is her most precious thing, but I did not know her like you did. I know her only as the child I left behind and the warrior in my dreams. You knew her as the adventurer she truly was. I have my own things to remember her by. Besides, you said it was your greatest work; how can the maker of an item be unworthy of its keeping? You made it, and in doing so you played one of the greatest parts in this kingdom's salvation. I want you to keep it, if nothing more than as a gift from a friend.)"

"Thank you. Okay then, I will cherish it above all others. Thank you, my friend." He bowed deeply, and Spectrum returned the gesture.

"(I would also like to join you for a moment in your craft. I have tested the arm’s combat capabilities to moderate success. I now want to test its capacity for creation.)"

"What a fantastic idea!" Sheo said. "Art is one of the best ways to express oneself; and with communication so limited for you, I would love to see what lies within your mind! Perhaps a self portrait, to show us what you believe yourself to be? Perhaps one more abstract, to reflect your abnormal upbringing? What will it be?"

Before he had a chance to protest, Spectrum found himself seated before a blank canvas, with plenty of paint and brushes at his sides.

"Go on, then," Sheo said. "Show us the Spectrum you are. Show us what is hidden behind that pale mask of yours."

Spectrum had little training in the arts. He had been forbidden from learning any form of expression, so what little training he had was done in secret. Show my true self, then? What hides beneath my physical form? What would I paint to show it? Ah, that will do. He picked up a brush, then set it back down. He turned to face Sheo, who was almost breathing down his neck.

“(I would like to do this without constant supervision, I feel it is stifling the creative flow.)”

“Ah, sorry. I will return to my own project.”

Spectrum dipped the brush into the black paint and began painting. He was quickly consumed by the work, his mind filled with a single purpose for the first time in ages. He would make it perfect, he had to, he always had to be perfect. But the scars on his body told a different story. He bore the scars of countless failures. Though many were faded, one stood blazing on his face: the one from the radiance. He had failed his kingdom. He had failed his Father. He would not cover any of his scars. He would not let them fade. He would let his scars show as a badge of his persistence, his desire to serve his kingdom with all he could offer.

Sheo watched as more and more black ink was placed upon the canvas, then suddenly red, orange, yellow, green, blue and purple joined in the picture. He watched as the vessel made long, flowing strokes with the colors of the rainbow.

The full spectrum.

Eventually Spectrum stopped. One of the first things he learned was to know when to stop, in order to avoid ruining a good work in search of a perfect one.

“(It is done, have a look. It’s not as good as I would like, but this is my first real painting.)” He turned the canvas around to face the paintmaster.

The canvas depicted his face, with the left side clean and pure. The face of the hollow knight. The right showed the scarred face of Spectrum. Black poured from the right eye and the many cracks surrounding it. Void, tears, blood, whatever it might be flowed down his face to the bottom, where it turned into a rainbow. The color danced across the right side of the canvas, but did not once enter the left. In the upper left corner, surrounded by little pinkish purple circles, was the face of the Pale King and the White Lady. Her roots danced across the left side mirroring the rainbow on the right, except completely devoid of color. In the right corner were the faces of Hornet, Ghost, and suggestions of many others.

“Wow,” Sheo breathed, “It’s…wonderful. Are you sure this is your first? It’s perfect.” After a moment more to appreciate the painting, he beckoned, “My work is also done, come see.”

Spectrum moved over to the other side of the table to look. Sheo had made a mini statue of the hollow knight. It only needed to be painted before it could stand proudly beside the King and Queen.

“(It is good, but wrong. You have made a perfect rendition of the hollow knight. But if I am to stand beside my Father, I would like to finally be able to stand beside Him as I am, not as a failed rendition of what He wanted me to be.)”

…

“How do you do it?” one of the bugs asked.

“Communicate with the beasts?” the god-tamer responded. “I just speak their language. It’s not too difficult; it’s like talking to a child. Just speak in simple terms, and if they refuse to cooperate, show them your strength and they usually concede.”

She closed the gate to the pen. “Well, that should be all the ones in the crossroads. I’ll go gather the ones up in the cliffs; you bugs go gather the ones in Greenpath.”

“Teach us!” Another bug pleaded. “It would make it so much easier if we had your skill.”

“Alright then, I’ll teach you.” She sat down and began the lesson. “The most important part is to learn how to talk without your inner mouth. That's the one used for higher speech, which they don't have. It’s one of the big things that separate us from the lesser beasts. Let it slack and focus on your mandibles…”

She continued teaching the group of bugs, giving them a simple grasp on the language of the feral bugs. How to say “food” and “shelter,” or “danger coming” and “follow for safety.” The best way to communicate without speaking the same language was with body language. Crouching down, moving slowly, staying small: these were going to be more important to show they meant well than taking the time to actually learn the language.

It took a while, but eventually the group was confident in their ability. Satisfied with her work, the god-tamer set the group on their way and went to the cliffs.

The cliffs, named for the constant wind felt there, were silent. The air was still and cold. Unnaturally cold. 

“This ain’t good. I probably shoulda brought one or two of them with me. I better work fast.”

Fortunately she had a list of how many bugs there were in the cliffs, given to her by Mato: 40 vengeflies, 34 tiktiks, 19 baldurs, 27 crawlids, and 1 elder baldur.

“(come to me!)” She called out, “(this place will not be safe for long, I have a safe space, follow me!)”

She walked around, accumulating a large following. She crawled through a dark chasm filled with spikes gathering a flock of vengeflies. She jumped across the craggy cliffs down to the wasteland, picking up several more vengeflies, tiktiks and crawlids. When she reached the bottom she stopped, looking out across the empty dunes of dust and sand.

“So this is the outside world, huh?” she said to herself. “This is where they come from? All the warriors, adventurers, that weird snake lady, they all come from somewhere out there? I don’t see anything.”

“(wind gone, scared. Something coming, bad.)” one of the bugs said, “(afraid. How will you protect us?)”

She knelt down and patted the quivering crawlid, “(I am not alone. I have many friends, they will help protect you. We have made a safe space, though it is a little far from here.)”

She continued on, there were only a few more bugs to gather. Eventually she reached the last one, the elder baldur. 

“(Follow me. This place will soon stop being safe.)” she told the baldur.

“(why?)” It asked, “(I have lived here for ages, and not once has even a hint of danger come to me. Besides, my shell is strong, whatever it is that you are afraid of will not harm me.)”

“(It will. I promise you it will kill you if you do not follow me.)”

“(I doubt it. You upright bugs live such easy lives you panic at the slightest breeze. I will not move.)” It closed its shell around itself. “(Nothing gets through my shell.)”

God-tamer picked up a small, sharp rock. “You sure about that?” she asked, then poked it through one of the gaps in his shell.

“(Ah! What was that?)”

“(A rock. What hope do you have against the wrath of the sky if a simple rock can easily pierce your ‘impenetrable’ armor? You are arrogant and prideful, and honestly I would rather leave you here to freeze, but Hornet says I gotta gather all the bugs and you count among them. Follow me if you don't want to freeze to death. Or don't, I can say I tried my best.)”

“(The spider?)”

“(Yes, the spider. She ordered me to bring your sorry shell somewhere where you have a chance at survival.)”

She stopped. “(Wait, listen.)” The unnatural silence was broken by a distant hum. “(It’s coming sooner than I thought. I’ll leave now, you can follow if you want.” She turned and shrugged, “(or die, I don’t really care.”)

Chapter Text

The storm hit Hallownest with a power unlike anything they had ever seen before. The initial blast of wind shattered most of the lanterns and windows. The gale beat against the rock and shell forming the cliffs. The houses in the village shook. Everything inside them that was not taken down flew about and scattered across the valley. A whistling sound echoed throughout the crossroads, emanating from the well. The kingdom awoke the following morning to the rumble of thunder. The lightning struck with explosive force, completely obliterating the small town, and collapsing several near surface tunnels in the crossroads, crystal peak, and even greenpath. The runes on the moth relics shone brightly as it was repeatedly blasted, but they were unharmed. The sky turned dark, once more obscured by clouds. The thunderstorm continued for hours, reverberating throughout the kingdom. It eventually subsided, leaving an uncanny silence. The following day a group of bugs, led by Hornet, traveled up the crystal mines to scout out the surface. They found a dazzling white blanket covering the entirety of the valley, completely obscuring whatever remained of the little village on the surface. It had snowed so heavily that they couldn’t even tell where the tunnels had collapsed, the surface was so smooth. The elevator was nowhere to be seen, even the support beams had been destroyed. The opposite mountain was unrecognizable, the great door to the king's pass had collapsed. The snow was still falling, and it was clear that there was still plenty more to come.

They thought they would be safe deep underground.

They were wrong.

The cold brought by the wind and snow penetrated deep into the kingdom. It swept across even Deepnest and the hive. The bugs huddled together, bundling themselves with whatever they could find, but it didn’t work. They lit fires, and that helped a little. The soil grew barren, something the farmers had never dealt with before. It was clear that if something didn’t change soon, Hallownest would freeze.

Hornet found Grimm in his tent.

“Why hello my friend, what brings you to my humble abode?”

“Take a wild guess, grimm.”

“Ah, not in the mood? I’ll get straight to it, then. If it is the warmth of the scarlet flame you seek, then I can provide. But not for the whole kingdom. I am still quite weak, despite the boosts you and your brother have given me. Helping to move dirtmouth down here has drained my strength more than I expected.”

Hornet sat at the table opposite him and sunk her head into her hands. “It feels as though the gods have cursed us. We have survived the apocalypse, and now, before we could even pick ourselves off the ground, this storm beats us back down! How could Father do this? Surely He knew it was coming, and yet he prepared nothing for it! He claims to know the future, and yet we still suffer!”

“It is quite possible that He didn’t know. Have you felt it? There is something…odd about this storm. The fact that an ohmu came to warn us, and the penetrating power of the cold, surely this storm is…different in origin, from the others that have come before.”

“I know, no matter how many layers of cloth I wrap around me, I still feel the cold in my heart. But why would this be the one thing He couldn’t predict?”

“Oh it wouldn’t be the first. Far from it. And I doubt it will be the last. He told me about it once, how it worked. He said that time is like a river: it takes the path of least resistance, and branches off into many wondrous directions. It is impossible to revert it, and there are some points where everything gathers. It is near impossible to diverge from the main flow; but with a keen eye and some precise movements, it is possible to take one of the offshoots. When the surroundings are smooth, it is possible to observe locations far in the distance. But when it is rough, it is not uncommon to barely see tomorrow. I believe it was the sparing of the dreamers that was the linchpin of his plan. There were many other variables, and as I’m sure he told you this was the only bright future he could see. But that does not mean that this is the only bright future. He told me that one day he saw a path leading to somewhere good that he dared not take, one even worse than this one. It consisted of many dangerous paths, involving the early release of the plague, and sacrificing many things, including you and all the surviving vessels. It was, in all fairness, a more reliable path than the one He took, a simple bargain between gods. But He could not lose you. You, Spectrum, Ghost, all the other vessels that did not live long enough to get a name, you were all too precious to Him.”

“I didn’t come to you for a history lesson. Though I suppose I do appreciate the knowledge you have given me.”

…

Spectrum meditated, trying to reach the Shade Lord. It was difficult with the cold, but he was well trained to resist outside forces. Eventually he reached it.

He found himself once again in the throne room. He quickly located the void door and opened it.

“Lord of shade, I seek your presence!”

Eight white eyes lit up in the darkness.

—What is it, brother? I am busy, so do make it quick—

“Can you help us with the cold? Surely there is something in your great strength that can help us?”

—Unfortunately, there is nothing I can do. As I have said before, my domain is the void. I cannot help protect against the cold. It is strange, though. Even I feel it. I had previously thought that, given that cold is simply a lack of heat, and my body consumes everything, I would always feel cold. When that was quickly disproven I assumed that temperature had no effect on me. And yet I feel cold. I would ask the weavers, or perhaps Mother. They have more knowledge in magic than I.—

“Before I go, may I ask what You are working on?”

—A surprise. One I’m sure you will enjoy.—

Spectrum left the dream, and went to Deepnest, walking along the dimly lit stagways. He arrived to find Selina, bound by webs to the floor by the stag, next to the bench.

“Oh, thank the gods! Please, get me out of this.”

“(what are you doing here? How long have you been stuck there?)”

“hours! The bugs here must find great pleasure in trapping me at the stag whenever I visit for my lessons. I would have cut myself out but my arms were immobilized. Please get me out!”

Spectrum pulled at the webs, but to no avail. He grabbed a particularly sharp rock and began cutting. Eventually, her arms were freed and she began cutting the rest of herself free.

“Oh, thank you. Every time I visit it seems they have a new trap. First the bench, then the wall, now the floor! do you have any idea how horrible it is to be bound, unable to even move?”

“(actually, I know exactly how that feels.)”

“What?” She took a closer look at her savior. “Wait, aren’t you the hollow knight?”

“(Yes. But please, call me Spectrum. Let me take you home.)”

He helped her to her feet, and walked with her back to the city. he waved her off and then returned to Deepnest. He entered the main pod, where Herrah was waiting.

“So the knight returns,” Herrah said. “It has been so long since we last met, though I suppose you haven’t come to chat. What do you want?”

“(Knowledge. Do you or any of the weavers have ideas as to what caused the storm, or what it’s capable of?)”

“And you can sign! Against His wishes, no doubt.” She shook her head, “No, not yet. But we are working on a spell to at least protect against it. It would seem that it ignores any kind of insulation. It is most certainly magical in nature. We are working on modifying a protection seal to make it quicker and easier to weave but still work against the cold. Haven’t gotten much luck, but we should get there soon.”

…

“Don’t get any funny ideas.” Lemm said as Velvet, the guardswoman he’d met earlier, snuggled up to him. “The only reason I’m allowing this is because of the cold. I am only letting you this close to me because I need your body heat.”

Velvet giggled, “Oh, I can give you more heat, if that’s what you want~”

“Absolutely not! ” Lemm retorted. 

“But why? Besides, we’ve been told to try our best to–”

“I’m not in the mood. ”

Velvet huffed, “You’re never in the mood!”

“Precisely! Good night.”

Why did he have to get stuck with her? This bug was crazy! She had no respect for relics, no respect for privacy, no respect…at all! How did she manage to become a sentry? Didn’t they have rules? Regulations? Some kind of system to prevent bugs like her from getting in? She certainly wanted him to “get in” and he would have none of that. He had half a mind to kick her out! But he really did need the heat she provided; it was cold! How was it cold? Besides, all the other bugs had formed groups to share body heat, and he could barely tolerate the one bug. Plus he would need to go out and ask, and– where does she think she’s going?

“Get off of me!” he shouted. Her hand retracted from its wandering about his shell. 

“I have made it clear on multiple occasions that my only love is history and relics of the past. You will get nothing from me, so I advise you to…satisfy your urges, somewhere else! Go find another bug to do it with, but keep me and my things out of it.”

He really did need to find another roommate. One that didn't want to mate with him.

Chapter Text

“Any progress?” Herrah asked the group leader.

“Not much,” the weaver responded. “We quickly realized that it would be far easier to simply craft a warmth spell than it would be to fight this cold. Though in the few days we’ve had to work on it, we haven’t found a solution. Anything that works is too complex, and the ones that can be done quickly don’t provide enough heat. I feel like we’re fighting a losing battle.”

“Have you considered asking Grimm? His mastery of fire should prove useful.”

“We have…though, we haven’t decided on who will go to ask.”

Herrah sighed. “He’s a bug. He’s not even a true god anymore. Or did you forget?”

“We haven’t forgotten, we just…” He trailed off as Herrah scowled down at him.

“Fine. I’ll do it myself. You keep working on the spell.”

She sent the weaver back to the lab and left to find the old man. “You leave them for a few generations and they become soft, ” she muttered to herself as she walked.

It wasn’t hard to find. She could feel his presence, even as diminished as it was.

“So, are you taking a break or are you just going to watch this kingdom die again?” She demanded.

Grimm sat up from his reclined position, nearly choking on his tea. “Taking a break!” He sputtered, “I’ve been working hard keeping this village warm!”

“Good. But have you considered working to keep the whole kingdom warm? Or did my daughter just tell you to keep the village warm and you’ve decided that was enough?”

“My powers are stretched thin as it is, I could not hope to heat the entirety of the crossroads, let alone the whole kingdom.”

“Of course. I wasn’t asking you to do that. I am asking you to use your brain and help my weavers come up with a spell to provide warmth without simply using your godly powers. Actually put in the work for something for once.”

“Oh.” He paused for a moment. “Well, I suppose that could work.”

“Good. Then you’re coming with me.” Herrah grabbed his arm and forcefully led him back to Deepnest

“Wait! Let me finish my drink! I don’t want to waste the good–”

“Oh, so you’re enjoying ‘the good tea’ or whatever you were going to say, while the rest of us freeze to death?” she scoffed. “You higher beings are all the same. None of you care about the mortals that act as pawns in your games. You’re no better than your sister.”

Grimm stammered. “No, that’s– that’s not what I meant! I just– besides, I’m mortal too!”

“Not really. You come back.”

“I’m kept alive by the ritual, the ritual that was disrupted by Ghost’s death. And it’s not like I’d come back if I was killed, it just keeps me from dying of old age through reincarnation. Could you please just let go of me? I can walk on my own and you’re really not letting me walk easily. And how dare you compare me to Senna! I was on your side of the fight! I paid the price for that! I am mortal because I fought for your freedom!”

She tightened her grip. “No. You fought for His freedom. For His bugs. You didn’t fight for me, or my people. We were just fortunate to be in the same net that you cast. You are the same because you both fight for what you want, and pay little attention to the lesser beings that you fight over.”

The rest of the walk was uncomfortably silent. He could not think of a response and she didn’t want to talk with him. She did loosen her grip halfway through, but she did not raise her arm to let him walk normally.

She nearly tossed him at the weavers when they arrived. “Work with him and figure out a way to fix this mess.” Without another word, she left him there and went to see if Selina was still alive and working with Midwife. She would be surprised if the centipede would still work with her after she got stuck on a simple web trap nearly every time she tried to leave. The last time she was stuck she was rescued by Spectrum. Herrah pondered how long the poor mantis would have stayed there if she had not been rescued.

To her surprise, not only were they still working together, but it seemed they were making great progress. That mantis was a fast learner.

…

—It must be perfect.—

The Shade Lord surveyed the mass grave He called His home, searching for something within the pit of corpses. He could craft it out of pure void, but He needed a base material for it to not suffer the curse. The bodies of these children could be sculpted by Him, as they were infused with void, but it was a difficult material to work with. After weeks of searching, He finally found a discarded shell that was close enough to what He desired. It was almost identical to her original form. He molded the shell into something larger; a more mature form to reflect the bug that would inhabit it. Its round head was stretched and pinched, giving it a sharper look similar to Hornet’s. He pulled the body apart, adding chitin from the other corpses to fill the gaps.

It was difficult, as the void had very little experience with creation. It did, however, have an image to replicate. The body was solidified and set to rest. He looked upon His work. It was flawed, but adequate. The hands were particularly difficult, as they were almost too small to work with. He ended up just giving the body the hands of a child, instead of trying to enlarge the hands available to Him. The mouth was also abandoned, replaced with a simple void hole like the eyes. Additional shell was placed around the mouth to protect the outside world from the void within.

The bugs of Hallownest (at least those who knew of its existence) thought that the King’s brand was lost with the original body, but it was more than a simple mark. It was embedded into Ghost’s psyche, all that was needed was to retrieve it from the sea of souls that now filled the god of void. Ghost was prominent in the mind of the void, acting almost as the sole consciousness, but the mark of the Wyrm was difficult to find. He clutched His chest with one of His many hands, and pulled. A light shone in the darkness, almost blinding to a lesser bug. A string of soul, or something else, drifted lazily between His hand and His chest. He bound it up, and placed it upon the empty shell. A flash of white, and the brand was emblazoned upon its chest.

It was as good as He could make it.

Now to give it its soul.

He seized His head as though He had a splitting headache, pulling it apart. A small fraction of His soul was torn away, a black flame resting in His hands. He collapsed, pausing for just a moment to recover from the debilitating task, His breath was heavy and labored. Then He gently poured the inky spirit into the body He so tenderly crafted for her. Fortunately, the severing was only physical, their minds still entwined for eternity. Ghost was still present in His mind, if slightly weakened. And He was present in her mind.

He wondered, for a moment, what might have happened if that strongest soul was taken from Him. Surely there must be a dormant soul that once gave the void its reputation. He brushed the thought away, but not without a chill running down His spine. The void was once feared, Ghost had heard whispers in her travels about the void’s wrath. But it was better to forget such stories, lest they cause that spirit to awaken.

The body stirred, He watched with nervous trepidation, unsure if His project was a success. The body groaned, and then cracked. Fortunately, it was only the joints breaking off of the neighboring pieces of shell. The bodies of the Wyrm’s children had been motionless for so long, they began to fuse together at the joints.

Ghost stretched her new body, breaking in the new joints. She reached a hand out, and grabbed onto the mighty finger that was offered, lifting her up to stand. She wobbled on her new legs for a moment, but stabilized. She moved to take a step, but the hip seized and she nearly collapsed, only to be caught by the massive hand of the void. She continued to try, slowly acclimating to her newly crafted body, painstakingly loosing each and every joint in her body.

He lifted her up to the entrance of the abyss, and, supporting herself against the walls, she left. She slowly crawled up the basin (an easier task than expected, as her equipment was lost to her. The claws and wings she had grown accustomed to using were no longer in her possession.) eventually reaching the palace grounds. She stumbled across the massive bridge, and over into the hidden station behind. She paused at the sign that had been posted next to the bell, but rang it anyway. She was in no condition to walk all the way up. She leaned against the pole as she waited for the stag to arrive.

Eventually she felt the telltale rumble, and the stag appeared out of the dimly lit tunnel.

“Oh?” He said in his familiar gruff voice. “And who might you be? This station has no residents, and yet… Strange, I feel as though we have met once before.”

“Take me–” she stopped in shock. It was odd, hearing her voice aloud. To hear it echo in the room, and vibrate in her throat (even if it was now pure void in there) “take me to Dirtmouth.”

“Stranger still, I thought everyone knew of the town’s collapse. I cannot take you there, but if it is the residents you seek, I can take you to the crossroads where they have moved.” The old stag paused. “Are you alright? You’re shaking quite badly. Get on my saddle already, I will take you to a place where you can get warm.”

He lowered his body all the way to the ground, so that she did not need to climb up onto the saddle, then ran to the crossroads.

When they arrived, he directed her down to the forgotten temple where the residents had rebuilt the old village.

Ghost walked to the bench and collapsed onto it. She cracked her fingers into place, startling the stag with the noise.

“What are you doing? That sounded like something broke!”

“Don’t worry…forgot. stuck.” she mumbled.

After resting there a while longer, she heaved herself up and walked down to the village. It was fascinating, seeing with her own eyes the village that she only knew as dead and decayed. The torches were new, and immediately recognizable as Grimm's design. She hobbled over to her siblings’s hut, and knocked on the door.

“I’ll get it.” A familiar voice emanated from inside, and the door opened to reveal the red figure of Hornet. She stood there for a moment, taking in the sight before her. “Hello… have we met?”

“As strangers, three times. As opponents, twice. As siblings… never, until now.”

Upon hearing the voice, Spectrum got up in a jolt and sprinted to the door, nearly knocking Hornet down in his ferocity.

“Ghost, is that…? It is! It’s really you!” He grabbed his sibling in a desperate embrace. “I thought you were gone! I thought I lost you again! Don't leave me again, please!” Tears began to bud in his eyes as he held his lost sister. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I couldn’t– I didn’t think– I–”

“I forgive you. You did what you had to. I’m… sorry it took so long.” Ghost stroked her brother’s shaking back, tears welling in her eyes too. “I wish I could have come back sooner.”

Chapter Text

The blizzard raged on, obscuring a portal that formed high above the ground. A bright red soldier fell through it; the snow cushioning the fall, thankfully. The soldier picked himself up.

“Ugh, where am I?” He looked around, then back up at the portal. It closed before he could return to it.

“What? No! Vezon, you said you would take me to find my brother!” He cried out in anguish, but heard no response, not even an echo.

He activated his scanners, “There must be something out here in all this snow.”

Eventually it picked up something, off in the distance. A small mountain range, far to the north-east. He started walking. 

“I hope the scanners worked.” He held out his metal hands, “I can barely even make out my own fingers. Who knows how well the scanner worked in this storm. It’s cold, too. The ice tunnels of Mount Ihu in the dead of winter are nothing compared to this.”

He tapped the bottom of his firestaff on the ground, and the head came alight. Its warm flame lit up the darkness around him.

He kept walking through the snow, humming a little tune. It was difficult to move through the heavy snowdrifts, but he was heavier. He melted his way across the snowy desert and towards the mountains.

He continued walking.

More walking.

Still yet more walking to be done.

“Strange. Have my scanners malfunctioned? The mountains don’t appear to be any closer. Were there mountains over there to begin with?”

He stopped walking, and calmed himself, focusing.

“Well, if there’s any activity over there, the Arthron should detect it.”

He channeled his energy into his kanohi mask, and probed the far north-east.

“Yes, there is. Okay then, I’ll just keep walking.”

It was almost at the edge of the kanohi’s reach, and difficult to distinguish from the sea of snow whipping through the air, but there was definitely movement over there. There was definitely life over there.

So he resumed walking.

After what must have been a whole day of walking, he finally reached the mountains. There were a few signs of life, buried in the snow. What appeared to be empty, broken lightstone poles occasionally poked out through the drifts. He climbed up the mountain, and reached the top with relative ease. He looked out across the valley. He chuckled. Rational thought told him otherwise, but he couldn’t help but briefly consider the valley to be far deeper than it was, and that the snow went down to the core, to this universe’s Karda Nui

He squinted, scrutinizing the empty valley. “Strange, there was definitely movement in this direction.” A corner of his mouth twitched up in a brief smile, “I don’t think it was buried in the time it took me to get here.”

He focused again, and found a mass of activity deep below, it was sparse, but unmistakable. Several large masses, likely groups of smaller creatures, lurked beneath the surface.

“Oh, they’re just underground. Now where is the entrance to this cave system– ah, that looks like it.”

Across the valley, on the opposite mountain, there was a large entrance that seemed to be cut out of the stone surrounding it. He climbed down the mountain, across the field of snow, up the other mountain, and into the cave.

“After all this, they better be intelligent . I’d hate to come all this way and just find a bunch of kofo-jaga or some other kind of subterranean rahi.”

As he delved deeper into the cave, his jaw dropped. The cave was full of glowing crystals! “They’ve got pink lightstones! How wonderful! And the mining equipment shows at least some amount of intelligence. So hopefully no cave rahi.”

He crossed a rickety bridge spanning a pit of jagged crystals, and bumped into a large insectoid rahi, only slightly shorter than he was. Strange, it’s shell was matte, not like the protodermis found on other rahi. Stranger still, its back seemed to be covered in the same crystals that grew on the walls, though these did not glow. It just kept walking, ignoring his apology.

“Rude.”

He continued exploring the cave. Among the beautiful crystals, he saw plenty more mining equipment, all abandoned. “I would hope they haven’t all died by now. Even as a toa of fire, this cold stings! But then…where are all the bodies? Perhaps they left? I did detect more motion further below- ah!” A crystal shot through the air, narrowly missing his arm. It embedded itself into the ground a few paces ahead of him, then burst into a spiky crystalline ball!

“What was that?!” He whipped his head around to find a small airborne rahi, and dodged the second attack. “I don’t suppose you’re the intelligent species that mined these crystals, in which case…” he brought his hands together, conjuring a ball of fire, and tossed it at the rahi. The fireball landed directly on the tiny creature, killing it instantly in an explosion. Bits of shell scattered about the cave, and the explosion echoed through the tunnels. “Sorry little creature. It would have been better if you just stayed away.”

After a bit more time exploring the cave, he eventually found an exit to the crystal mines.

…

Footsteps echoed through the dark and silent corridors of the upper crossroads. But not hers. Strange, who else would be wandering about? She slowed as she considered who the source might be. They were far too heavy to be an average bug. Perhaps it was her brother, Spectrum? She stopped walking, and listened more intently.

Amid the echoes of water droplets falling in the cave system, the flowing of underground rivers, the distant chittering of the wild bugs, and other ambient noises, she heard only the crackle of the torch she carried. Then, there it was again. A strange stomping echoing around her, but where is it from? She looked around. Unless the bug had a death wish they would be carrying a torch as well, and the light would be easily spotted in the darkness.

There!

A glint on one of the poles gave away the position. Down that corridor and to the left. She swiftly moved towards it, silent as the cold. She turned the corner. A strange figure stood at the end, facing her. From a distance, it almost seemed as though it was encased in fire. It started walking towards her. She instinctively reached for her needle. No, not yet. She cautiously approached the strange creature.

As she got closer, she realized it was engulfed in flames. But it seemed to not notice, or care. Flames fell down its back like a cape. Its mask was a bright orange, with two short, flat red horns flowing back. The light reflected off its dull red shell in a strange way, as if it were metal, not chitin. Its footsteps were metallic, and its armored shell reflected light from the strange staff it carried. It’s not grimm, what is it? And its eyes…not many things were left that put Hornet on edge, but those glowing red eyes somehow managed to land on that list. They were unnatural, like a red light inside its head behind glass. Not like Grimm, or even Senna, these eyes were cold, lifeless, and yet, somehow still full of life. She couldn't help but compare it to the light emitted by charged lumaflies, the electricity jumping through the air. But this was refined, controlled. 

She stopped and drew her nail, and the figure tightened its grip on its staff, but did not slow its approach.

“Come no closer, stranger.”

It stopped. It cocked its head as if it didn’t understand.

It spoke. Its voice was strange; smooth and metallic, confident and alien. She could not understand a word of it.

“Speak common, or do you not know it?”

It spoke again, still incomprehensible.

“Our god gave us mouths to speak it, your creator should have done the same.”

Once more it spoke

Suddenly its speech jumbled, switching languages until eventually

“Is this it?”

“What?”

“Ah, this is it. A strange one, to be sure.” He bowed deeply, “I am Ignis, toa of fire, guardian of Mata Nui, and who might I have the pleasure of meeting?”

She squinted, unconvinced, but replied carefully, “I am Hornet, Daughter of Hallownest, Princess of both Hallownest and Deepnest. Where are you from? I have not seen anything of your likeness before.”

“Ah, right. Olmak. I am not from here. Not from anywhere near here. I come from another world, another universe, even. I would rather return to my homeland and continue searching for my brother, but it would seem that is not an option at the moment. I sense the presence of others further down, perhaps a tour is in order? Or at the very least, returning our weapons to their holsters.”

“No. not until you prove I can trust you.”

“I see. Well then.” He placed his staff on the ground, and clasped his hands behind his back. “Hit me.”

“What?”

His eyes flared for a brief moment. “Go on. Hit me.”

Hornet dashed towards him, her cloak becoming a blur, she thrust her nail towards his chest…and missed. He sidestepped effortlessly.

“Oh, so close. Try again.”

She continued attacking him, but each strike with her nail, each whip of her thread, everything she threw at the strange automaton missed.

“I cannot prove to you that I am trustworthy. But I can prove that I am not one to make enemies with, so perhaps it would be best if you just trusted me instead?”

Out of breath, she paused her onslaught. It was true, she could do nothing when he was only dodging ; what hope did she have if he were to attack? He could not be trusted. But I can feel his heat from here, simply his proximity gives respite from the cold. If I knew the weavers were making progress I would ask him to leave, but…

Chapter Text

Senna paused. Her muscles ached, the hoe heavy in her hands. The others kept working around her, barely giving her a passing glance. Even the White Lady skipped over her as She surveyed the field. Her presence was needed to assist and quicken the growth of the crops, but Senna would rather She was somewhere else.

Her body was immensely sore.

It scared her.

She still was not used to being mortal. She probably never would be. It seemed that every day there was a new reminder.

She could die now.

Not be killed, that she always knew. She could lose her life unexpectedly . She was always one unfortunate accident away from losing her life now. Her body was not perfect. It was flawed. It could fail. It could be damaged. It could be broken. It could be destroyed. As a god, there were only two ways to be permanently killed: being forgotten, and getting consumed by the void. Now it seemed the possibilities to end up taking permanent residence in the resting grounds were endless. Even the tool she held in her hands could easily end her life with its sharp blade. She could even just run out of time . Her body could simply wear out. The seer seemed to be close to reaching that point.

She was interrupted from her thoughts by a familiar presence hiding in the field.

“What do you want, shade? Reveal yourself!” She growled.

“Simply to stop by and see how you are faring.” Ghost appeared from behind one of the other bugs in the field. “Can a bug not simply visit anymore?” 

“You are not a bug. I don’t know what you are, but it is not natural.” Senna sat on the ground, unable to support her own weight anymore.

Ghost sighed, “Do we have to be enemies? I would rather not.” She sat down next to her.

“After what you did to me?” Senna scoffed, “There is not a single thing you can do save for returning me to my proper place as a god. It would have been better if you had just killed me then and there, not subject me to this torment.”

“Really? Then what hope do you have? I have done no direct harm to you. All I have done is weaken you. You, on the other hand, have done horrible things. If I can’t win your favor, then what could you possibly do to win theirs?” She gestured at the bugs toiling in the field around them.

“Did you not have any ideas?”

Ghost was silent.

“When you chose to spare my life, did you have a plan for me to live it?”

Ghost did not meet her eyes.

“Come on then, tell me what you thought would happen!”

“I don’t know.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“It… it was a flash of mercy… not much planning went into it. I didn’t even do it well. It was mostly just me not wanting to be like Him.”

“So instead of killing me and being done with it, you put me down here to, what, apologize?”

Ghost shrugged. “Pretty much?”

Senna picked up the hoe and swung it at Ghost angrily. “How’s this for an apology!”

Ghost grabbed it, halting its motion immediately. She ripped it out of Senna's hands without much struggle. She took the hoe in both hands, looked at it, and returned it to Senna. “Not your best. Try again.”

Senna growled, raised her arms to swing…then lowered them. “What use is apologizing to you? ”

“Practice.”

Senna scowled. She looked away. Her mind raced aimlessly. Then, barely even a breath, “I’m sorry.”

…

“Do you think they recognize me?” Senna asked in jest. The beasts refused to approach her, opting to huddle in the corners of the pen instead.

“Perhaps,” God Tamer responded, “though it could also simply be your lack of a friendly personality.” She walked up to a group of gruzzers and held out a hand filled with seeds. One by one, the gruzzers drifted towards the ant and began plucking bits of food from her hand. “That, and your method of delivering food is quite…bad.”

Senna chucked a handful of seeds towards a group of crawlids, hitting a few of them with a not-insignificant amount of force. “And how else am I going to feed them if I can’t get close to them? Isn’t that the whole point of me being here?”

God Tamer sighed, shaking her head dismissively. “By letting them come to you . It’s not that hard. Stop trying to force them to act a certain way. They are their own selves. But they are also hungry , and you have food . If you wait, and don’t give them reason to fear you, they will eventually come to you. Obviously this will take time, but it shouldn’t take too long.” She went over to Senna and helped her get into position. “You want to make yourself look small, unimposing, non-threatening. You want to hold still; these bugs are scared, and will run if you make any sudden movements. After that, you just wait.”

“This is demeaning. I feel like I’m begging, kneeling down like this.”

“It is, and you are. You are reducing yourself to be on their level, and asking them to trust you.”

Senna grumbled, but obeyed. She waited, hunched down in something that should have just been a seated position, holding out a handful of food. Eventually, a large tiktik crawled over to her. It looked at her, then at the food. It slowly approached her outstretched hand, and eventually started eating the food. She watched the little creature eat its fill, barely noticing her hand being placed on its back. She stroked the tiktik’s back, surprised at how soft it felt. The tiktik was calm, happy, even. Its spines were relaxed, and made little resistance as her hand ran through them.

Eventually her hand ran out of food, but the tiktik did not leave. It curled up on her lap. She felt…strange. It felt familiar, though she was not sure why. She continued caressing the tiktik, watching it slowly drift off to sleep in her arms. It felt good.

“I think he likes you.”

Senna didn’t respond.

“I’ll finish feeding the rest of them. You can stay where you are.”

Senna nodded.

Eventually the work was finished. God Tamer gently took the tiktik from her lap and carried him off to his den.

“You did good today, Senna.”

“Did I?”

“Well, you made progress, and that’s good.”

“I guess.”

“I assume you’ll be heading back to the resting grounds?”

“Yeah. What about you? Where are you going?”

“I’m heading off to the colosseum. It may be disbanded, but there’s still a perfectly usable arena there. I may no longer be the champion, but I’m still a fighter at heart. Plenty of other bugs go there to let off steam. You should find a hobby, too. Too much work makes your shell break.”

…

There was another bug at the tram station when she arrived.

“Oh!” The little beetle jumped a bit when Senna stepped past her to get on the tram. “S–sorry, I didn’t see you th–there.”

She ignored the beetle and sat down.

“Who d–d–did you lose?” the beetle asked.

She looked up at the beetle, who had sat in the seat opposite her. Before she could think of a way to end the conversation before it could begin, the beetle continued.

“I’m going to my brother’s g–grave. Oh! I’m M–Myla, by the way. N–nice to meet you.” she smiled and did a little wave. She seemed happy, despite…whatever it was she had going on.

“Senna.”

“That’s a p–pretty name. Was she nice?”

Senna raised an eyebrow, then corrected, “ I’m Senna.”

“Oh? Oh! S–sorry. S–so, who are you v–visiting then?”

“Nobody. At least, no one you need to know of.”

The tram settled to a stop, and the doors opened.

“Just coming t–to visit?”

“I live here.” Senna pushed past the inquisitive little beetle and began heading off towards the little home she shared with the seer.

“Oh, are you the seer's friend?”

Senna paused. “How do you know?”

“She t–talks about you sometimes.”

“What does she say?”

“That you’re arrogant, and refuse to see the g–g–good in yourself. She worries about you a lot, and is trying her b–best to help you.”

Senna flinched as the little bug ran up behind her and wrapped her arms around her waist.

“She said that you forgot what it was like to be loved…and that’s r–really s–sad.”

“I…guess I have…” She slowly turned and let her arms fall around the little bug. “Not like I deserve it, anyways.”

“What? No! Everyone deserves some love, no matter what they may have done. Any mom will agree.”

“Well…” she sighed, “what if I don’t have one?”

Myla looked up at her. “Well then you gotta find other p–people who will love you. It shouldn’t be too hard, you’re very p–pretty.”

Senna blushed. “I doubt it. It’s nothing compared to…how it used to be.”

“Well, right now, you seem like a nice enough bug.”

She looked at herself. Analyzing her wings, her fluffy wreath, she stared at a puddle to see her eyes…it was certainly nothing like her old form, but…perhaps she should stop comparing herself to a god. The beetle was right, she was pretty. Not enchantingly beautiful, but…nice. If only she could know for sure if the bug beneath all that fluff was as good.

Chapter Text

“What is it, child?” Grimm’s raspy voice interrupted the monotonous prattle of the weavers as they wove their experimental seals.

The grimmchild leapt from his cloak and darted about the cavern, scrambling the webs the weavers were working on.

“I do apologize, I don’t know what’s gotten into them. Child! Return!”

Reluctantly, the child flew back into his arms.

“What is it, child? Is it about her? She’s gone. A fate neither of us could foresee. I know it is hard, but we must move on. It is the only thing we can do.” Grimmchild mewed indignantly, tugging against his grip. “What is it? Why do you resist me so? You have never acted like this before; what has changed?” He looked up towards the village, so distant now. “No… you’re right. I feel it too. The bond has been restored… or… has it? It is different now. She is so much…darker, now.” His voice trailed off, but not before a sliver of fear could creep its way into his breath

“Just go. Find her… whoever she is.” The leading weaver said. “Give us some time to work alone, ” he added under his breath.

“Thank you, my friend.” Grimm pulled himself into his cloak, and in a puff of crimson smoke, he was gone.

He returned to the tent, and walked to the village. He released the child, who flew ahead.

“Save your strength, child. We do not know how long it will last…”

He caught up to the child, who was mewing at the entrance to the home of the pale children. He reached the door as it opened. A strange bug was at the entrance, one he had never seen before. The child pounced onto the bug, nearly strangling it in their embrace.

“I’ve missed you too, friend,” the bug said in response, returning the embrace.

“So. Is this who I think it is?” Grimm asked the child, then turned to the strange bug. “You’ve returned, and I hope it is not already too late…” He leaned against the doorframe. “The voice is… new. I had assumed she was the only child of His that possessed the capacity for sound, let alone speech.”

“That is true. This body was given a voice by the darkness. Took a while to get it right.” Ghost opened her mouth to reveal a black hole, then closed it before the child could stick a paw into it. “Hard to work with the old bodies I had available. Had to take the vocal cords from the old lightkeeper, since void doesn’t really make noise. Only had the one set, so it was a little stressful. But look at it! I think it’s wonderful.”

She twirled about, showing off her handiwork. It was a beautiful body, dark lines flowing across it like the roots of her mother. Her head was far sharper, with the two horns flowing more seamlessly into the rest of the head. Some frills had been added along the sides, similar to the horns of the Shade Lord. It was tall and elegant, but seemed incomplete. The hands seemed just a little too small, and the mouth was clearly added onto with separate parts. The lower jaw was large and clumsy, where the rest of the head was smooth and elegant.

“You speak as if you, yourself made it. Why?”

“Because I did. Before I split.”

“You split?” His voice filled with an unusual fear, despite his efforts to hide it. “How so?”

“When the body was ready, I severed my consciousness from the greater void, and filled the new vessel. It was not a perfect job, and we are still firmly connected. I am He, and He is me. So then,” she beckoned him into her home, and sat on the floor near the fireplace. She placed her hands near the flame, channeling soul into the fire. “What brings you up here? I was told that you had moved down to work with the weavers. Have you finished? I do my best to keep the fires burning, but there is only so little fuel to be burnt, and I fear we may run dry sooner rather than later.” 

“The child you hold so close to your heart. They woke with quite a stir, and led me to return. The weavers told me I could. If not, I would have had to deny them, lest I bring upon myself Herrah’s wrath. And so that brings me to the topic of the ritual. Our bond has been restored, but it feels different. I… do not know how to proceed. The ritual must be completed, if either of us are to move on. I do not know how much longer this old shell can sustain me, nor do I know how long the child can remain trapped in such a small form. But the people need me, and my fire. I feel a strange sense of obligation to stay, to protect. Perhaps it is simply because this is my old home, back when me and Senna were still together.”

“Sounds to me like you’re struggling to accept that you’re a good person,” she teased.

“What? No, I–” He growled. “I’m being serious. I cannot stay in this form, and I feel that I cannot abandon this kingdom. I need your help. You are the one who will make this decision. finish the ritual… and even that I fear might not be an option! You have grown too powerful, and I too weak. You carry the full might of the abyss in your heart, and the nightmare heart is sick. I fear that, if we were to dance again, you will consume me. I fear you now, my friend. I fear I cannot do what must be done.”

“Do not worry. I will not let myself get carried away. I have danced with the nightmare king before. I still have much to learn if I am to match his ferocity. You worry too much, old man. You have sources of energy to sustain yourself. But you are right, if I am to dance with him again I will need to do it soon.”

“May I ask, how long did you last?”

Ghost laughed, “barely even a minute! And I was fighting, so probably less than that! You are stronger than you think, Grimm. Don’t be so hard on yourself, you’ll only make it worse.”

…

It felt good to carry good news for once. Reed leapt through the stagways to Deepnest. The skill of a midwife will be needed soon.

He jumped down into the pit beneath the hanging huts of the spiders’ village, and into the caves surrounding it. He reached the lair of Midwife and her new apprentice.

“So, they’ve found a messenger, then.” She mused

“Yes. I come bearing great news. Your skills are needed – or, will be needed – soon. Is Selina ready?”

The mantis popped her head out of the shadows, raised her scythe arm to block the hungry jaws of the centipede, and continued forward. “Am I ready, teacher?”

“This will be your final test. If you successfully deliver this clutch, then I have nothing more to teach you. There is only so much one can learn from words and tools. I wish you the best of luck.” She shook her head, dispelling the horrid memories, and smiled as the two bugs left her lair. 

“I do hope she is ready.” She said to herself after they were gone. “I cannot imagine how bad things will be if this first clutch fails. Those bugs always were prone to overreacting.”

“So, what’s it like in deepnest?” Reed asked while walking down the stagways.

Selina sighed, “not great. The station is always booby-trapped, and it seems that no matter how hard I try, they always get me! Last time they coated the ringer in sticky webs. When I tried to cut myself free, my arm got stuck too! I had to resort to taking the whole bell with me to the city to get it removed!”

“That sounds horrible! How do you even survive down there?”

“Well, after a while, you get used to it. You learn the patterns, and the weak points.” She brightened up her lights. “It helps that I carry a light on me at all times.” 

They reached the city and were guided up into one of the buildings. A humble couple – unassuming beetles, indistinguishable from nearly half the kingdom – had conceived and were ready to lay. They reached the door, and Selina went in. Reed left to gather the leaders of the kingdom so that they could be present for this historic moment.

The White Lady was already present, assisting Selina inside the home of the beetles. Hornet, Ghost, Spectrum and Grimm were all up in the crossroads, and they all ran down so that they wouldn’t miss it. The three dreamers were summoned, as well as the four mantis lords. Unn was… unavailable. But a set of three charms were resting at the shore of Her pond. They were simple, as if they had not yet been finished. They would be worn by the three children, and they would finish the charms as they grew. 

He returned to the city, where many more bugs gathered in hushed reverence. The gods and rulers stood by the door to the building, ready to give the children their blessings.

The couple walked out into the city, where it felt like the entire kingdom had their eyes on the precious items that lay in the basket they carried. Three gods stepped up to them.

“As a god of life, I bless their hearts so that they may live long and healthy lives.” The White lady laid a root over the three eggs, transferring a part of her energy into them. She then passed the basket to Grimm.

“As a god of nightmares, I bless their minds. So while they will still feel a healthy amount of fear, they may never be consumed by it.” He placed a hand on each egg, one by one transferring a part of his energy into them. He then passed it to Ghost.

She recoiled as the basket was passed to her. The entire kingdom gasped as the basket nearly fell, but Grimm recovered. 

“What was that about?!”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I forgot, I– I’m– I shouldn’t– I’m sorry.”

“What is it, my child?” The White Lady wrapped a root around Her child, her dull sapphire eyes full of concern.

“I forgot… I shouldn’t be near them. I can’t. Not without putting them at risk.”

“You’re a god, though, aren’t you?” The mother asked. “What is your domain? Surely you have some kind of blessing for my children, the first of this new era, is there nothing you can give?”

“No. I am a vessel for the Shade Lord, god of void. The void does not give. The void is emptiness, it does not give. ” She shook her head sadly. “The void only consumes, takes, and destroys. As much as I wish to give, there is nothing I can give you.”

“You can give them peace of mind, my child. That is all you must do. Give them a part of your courage, your determination, teach them your skill. You have no need to give them a blessing of the void, my child, when you can give them a blessing of you.”

Ghost thought for a moment, then spoke. Her voice was heavy. “No… there is… one thing. The one thing the void can give . What it gave me, all those years ago. To be one with the void is… not a fate desired, but it is… a failsafe. If – if – they do not make it, I will take them. And I will return them to you, repaired to the best of my ability. In the event of… an early grave… I will save them. They will be children of the void, but they will still be your children. I understand if you refuse this offer.”

The basket was passed down, each figure of prominence beholding and bestowing a part of their power. This was done until it reached the final bug, Senna. She had arrived late, but knew what was happening.

“To you, the first to know me only as a mortal, I give you hope. Hope that you will survive, as your parents have. Hope that you will thrive, as their parents had, hope that you will be kind, as I failed to do. Hope that you will be strong, as I have. Hope that… someday, you will have children of your own, and they will bear children, and that eventually…” she whispered to herself and the eggs, “I will be forgotten. Then will these people know peace. I have wronged your parents. They suffered greatly because of me. I will not let the same fate fall unto you.”