The sky above Ravenreach was the color of smoke and dying embers. The old city had long surrendered to ruin. Towers cracked open like skulls, roads split apart by roots and decay. A once-thriving hub for relic trade and Wielder strongholds, it now rotted under the weight of its own silence — broken only by the distant growl of something never quite seen, but always felt.
Kael moved like a shadow through the narrow alleys, his breath steady despite the biting wind. Every step was measured, every sense sharp. Even without the power others flaunted, he had survived this long — not through strength, but awareness.
His clothes were torn in places, patched with scavenged pieces of armor. A faded red scarf, once bright, now wrapped around his neck as both memory and mask. In his hand, a crude weapon — part rusted rebar, part blade. Homemade. Deadly enough, if aimed true.
The goal today was a cache. A forgotten ruin said to still contain supply crates from before the "Ash Collapse." It was located near the edge of the city, past Hollow Square — a cursed zone, most said. Kael didn't believe in curses.
But he did believe in the Hollowborn.
He ducked under a half-collapsed gate, stepping into the ruined administrative center of what was once the Guild Registry. The air was still. Too still. Papers fluttered across the floor like dry leaves. The place reeked of mildew and blood left too long.
Kael found the crate after fifteen minutes buried under desks and shattered glass. The lock had long rusted away. Inside: dried food packs, a roll of binding wire, a few batteries, and
A pulse.
He froze. A wave of nausea swept through him. Not from the crate, but from the air itself. As if something had shifted. Awakened.
The sound of bone scraping stone echoed behind him.
He turned.
A Hollowborn, but not a feral crawler or shadowling. This was a Sentinel-Class — tall, armor-like hide, bone mask fused with its skull, hollow glowing eyes. It stood still, tilting its head.
Kael's breath hitched.
It charged.
He rolled, barely avoiding the crushing swipe of its clawed hand. His rebar blade glanced off its shoulder. Too thick. Too strong. He ran, dashing through debris, dodging strikes that cracked marble and steel.
But the Hollowborn was tireless. And Kael was human.
A backhand sent him crashing into a wall. The impact stole his breath. His vision blurred.
The creature approached, slow now. Savoring it.
Kael's hand twitched. He reached for his blade. It was gone.
This is it, he thought.
But then — Burning.
Not in the body — but deep in the soul. A pain like fire licking through marrow. And on his forearm, glowing through torn sleeve, something awakened.
A glyph.
No. Not just a glyph.
A Hollowbrand.
It pulsed, pale and cold, casting light across the ruin. The air shifted. The Hollowborn stopped, confused. It let out a guttural hiss and lunged.
But Kael moved first.
He wasn't stronger. Not physically. But his perception had changed. Everything around him slowed. Not literally — but his understanding of motion, of pattern, of instinct deepened. He saw the creature's muscle shift before it moved. He anticipated its rhythm.
He struck — not with brute force, but with perfect precision.
The creature screamed, bones shattering as the rebar drove through a weak point in its mask.
Then silence.
Kael stood in the ruined office, panting. The glyph on his arm dimmed slightly, but remained.
He stared at it.
This was no ordinary Wielder's mark.
He wasn't born with it.
It chose him.
But what had he become?
He looked out at the dying city beyond the broken windows.
Somewhere, in the hidden systems of this world, something had changed.
And someone or something
was watching.
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HOLLOWBORN—
The Hollowborn are not monsters in the traditional sense. They are remnants — echoes of souls who have been stripped of memory, purpose, and voice. They exist between death and corruption, pulled back into form by the Hollowforce, a residual energy left behind after the collapse of several early-world Source Wells.
They are drawn to power, emotion, and especially to those with potential to evolve — like Kael.
Classes of HOLLOWBORN—
Tier I: The Ferals
Mindless, animalistic behavior
Weak and fast; operate in groups
Drawn to light, heat, and raw emotion
Can infect dead bodies to multiply
Threat Level: 🟥 Low (for trained soldiers)
Common Encounters: Outer ruins, abandoned settlements
Tier II: The Sentinels
Semi-intelligent; mimic previous humanoid forms
Wear natural armor grown from bone or shadowsteel
Capable of using corrupted weapons
Guard relics, glyph sites, old Source Wells
Can strategize in packs
Threat Level: 🟧 Medium to High
Kael's first true opponent was Sentinel-Class.
Tier III: The Echobound
Retain fragments of their original identity
Sometimes whisper names, perform old routines
Wield corrupted versions of their past powers
Each one is unique
Rare and dangerous
Threat Level: 🟨 High
Behavior: Unpredictable, often tragic to face
Tier IV: The Null-Ascended
"Born from disruption. Triggered by the Hollowbrand."
Very few observed
Believed to emerge when a person with high potential touches or alters the flow of Hollowforce — such as Kael awakening
Can manipulate space distortion, time echoes, or glyph disruptions
Often target Hollowbrand bearers
May evolve from lower forms when exposed to a "disruption event"
Threat Level: 🟦 Critical
Codename among scholars: "World-Watchers"