The Scribe's Hollow pressed closer the deeper he went. The desks were broken, the quills still scratching, but the air felt thicker now — like ink had soaked into the stone itself.
Kael held the stolen page tight against his chest. Some pages are written before you arrive. The words dug at him like claws. His throat ached with every breath.
The Compass at his chest spun once, then locked hard to the left. The Key burned cold in his fist, urging. He followed.
The corridor opened into a low chamber. One desk stood whole, unlike the others. Upon it lay a page bound in iron clasps. Ink bled slowly across the surface even though no hand touched it.
Kael stepped closer. The words wrote themselves.
Hollow returns. Cycle repeats. Debt grows.
His jaw tightened. He rasped, voice rough as stone: "Not… this time."
The page twitched. New words bled: Not yet. But soon.
His hand shook. He wanted to tear it, burn it, anything. But the system whispered, cold and calm:
Unauthorized destruction forbidden. Penalty = Erasure.
He froze. Erasure. Not debt. Not burden. Gone.
Instead, he slipped the Key between the iron clasps. The page shuddered. Ink splattered, letters smearing into nonsense. The Compass quivered in his chest, needle rattling like it wanted to break.
The system hissed:
[Debt +2] Scrap obtained: Fragment of Cycle. Warning: Ledger awareness sharpened.
Kael yanked the page free. The scrap in his hand burned faint, letters shifting. He could only read pieces:
Walked before. Failed. Hollow always fails. Hollow always returns.
His breath caught. He pressed Seren's scrap against it — Not Hollow. Kael. The two papers touched, edges curling. For a moment, the shifting letters stilled.
A hiss rose. The scribes turned from their desks, ink dripping from their faces, quills stabbing the air. One pointed straight at him. Words scrawled across the wall, huge and sharp:
KAEL ARDENT HOLLOW.
The surname bled again, thicker this time. His vision swam.
He staggered back, twisting the Key hard. Stone cracked, a seam opening. He dove through as ink splattered across the wall behind him.
The seam sealed. He fell to his knees, gasping. The page fragment still burned in his hand.
The gong rolled faint through the stone, long and patient.
BOOOONG.
Kael pressed both scraps to his chest — Seren's note and the fragment of his own doom. His throat burned, but he forced the words out anyway.
"Not Hollow. Kael."
The stone didn't answer. But the echo of his voice stayed in his bones.