Chapter 11: The Hollow Garden
Billy woke up choking on air that wasn't air.
It was alive. Thick, damp, heavy with spores that moved when he breathed. He stumbled to his feet, blinking through a haze of green fog that curled and twisted like smoke. The ground beneath him pulsed with every heartbeat, and the vines glistened as though sweating blood.
He wasn't in New York anymore.
He wasn't even sure he was on Earth.
The Hollow Garden stretched endlessly, an impossible maze of roots thicker than skyscrapers, arching above him like the ribs of a beast. Strange shapes moved within the fog—humanoid silhouettes that melted back into the vines whenever he turned his head.
And the whispers…
They never stopped.
"He walks with the Seed… He carries the pain of the Green…"
Billy pressed his hands to his ears. "Shut up! Just shut up!"
The voices laughed softly. "You think you can silence us, vessel? We are the roots that dream beneath your feet."
He clenched his fists, his power flickering—a faint glow under his skin. "I'm not your vessel. I'm me."
"No… you are ours."
A vine shot up from the ground, wrapping around his ankle. Another lashed out from behind. Billy reacted instinctively—his own energy burst forth, and roots exploded outward in all directions. The attacking vines shrieked, curling into ash.
He was breathing hard. Sweat mixed with the mist.
Then he heard a voice—low, distorted, human.
"You've gotten stronger."
Billy froze.
The mist parted, and a figure stepped forward.
Black armor, segmented like scales. Tubes of pulsing crimson running across its frame. And that mask—metal fused to skin, veins crawling from beneath like dark lightning.
Maskborn.
Billy's stomach tightened.
"How—how are you here?"
Maskborn's voice was calm, mechanical, almost serene. "This is where it all began, boy. The Hollow Garden is the root of everything—the Green, the Black, even your gift. We're both connected to it."
Billy's fists tightened. "You killed people."
Maskborn tilted his head slightly. "And how many will you kill when you lose control again? Don't pretend you're any different from me. You just haven't accepted it yet."
Billy took a step forward. "I'll never be like you."
Maskborn raised a hand, and the vines around them stirred like soldiers awaiting command. "You already are."
The air trembled as the ground split open, revealing glowing tendrils that twisted like serpents. Billy reacted fast, sending out a wave of energy that blasted them back, but Maskborn moved faster—he was part of the Garden here. Every strike he made rippled through the roots, rebounding with monstrous force.
Billy ducked under a whip of thorns that sliced through the air, embedding itself in a nearby trunk.
He raised his arm, and a wall of vines shot up, blocking Maskborn's next attack. The impact shook the ground.
Maskborn's voice echoed from everywhere at once.
"Do you hear it? The Green doesn't trust you anymore."
Billy snarled, "Then I'll make it listen."
He slammed his hands into the earth.
Instantly, the world reacted—thousands of green tendrils shot out from below, spiraling upward like a cyclone. Maskborn countered, twisting his own dark vines into blades that sliced through Billy's defenses.
Their energies collided—green light versus black flame.
The explosion ripped through the Hollow Garden, tearing open a hole in reality itself.
Billy was thrown backward, crashing into a wall of roots. Pain ripped through his body, but he didn't stop. He pressed his hand against the wall, forcing the roots to obey.
They pulsed once, then parted—revealing what looked like a massive, beating heart made entirely of wood and glowing sap.
Billy stared in awe. "What the hell—"
Maskborn appeared behind him, his voice reverent.
"The Heart of the Garden. The source of all life and death."
He stepped closer, eyes glowing through the slits of his mask. "Do you understand now, boy? You and I are not enemies. We are halves of the same evolution."
Billy turned sharply. "You mean infection."
Maskborn tilted his head. "Evolution is never clean."
Billy raised his hand, vines coiling around his arm like armor. "If you think I'll let you near that heart—"
Maskborn lunged.
They clashed again, the impact echoing like thunder through the cavern. The roots screamed as they fought, feeding on the chaos.
Billy's strikes grew desperate. He moved with instinct, not skill—each hit powered by raw emotion. His grief, his anger, his guilt—they fueled the Green within him.
But Maskborn wasn't human anymore. He adapted to every attack, every pulse of energy. His armor began absorbing Billy's power, glowing brighter with each impact.
Billy realized too late—Maskborn wasn't fighting to win.
He was charging.
The villain smiled beneath his mask. "Thank you, Ironroot. You've just given me the key."
Billy's eyes widened. "What are you—"
Maskborn slammed his hands into the Heart.
The world screamed.
A shockwave erupted, and the entire Hollow Garden began to tremble. Roots twisted violently, turning black as the corruption spread like wildfire. The once-green glow faded into a pulsating crimson.
Billy staggered to his feet, shouting, "Stop! You'll destroy everything!"
Maskborn laughed, the sound metallic and hollow. "No… I'll rebuild everything. This world will no longer decay—it will obey."
The Heart pulsed once, then split open like a wound.
Black energy poured out, swallowing Maskborn whole.
Billy covered his eyes, but the darkness was alive—it seeped into his veins, whispering in his mind.
"You can't stop him. You are one of us."
He fell to his knees, gasping. The vines around him wrapped tighter, trying to hold him still. His power flared, but it was chaotic—fighting itself, burning both him and the Garden.
Then, through the chaos, a faint light appeared.
Not green.
Not black.
Golden.
It flickered in the distance, small but steady.
Billy forced himself toward it, each step a battle against the Garden itself. Thorns cut his skin, but he didn't stop. The light grew brighter, and with it came a voice—soft, feminine, and familiar.
"Billy... listen."
He froze. "Mom?"
The light shimmered, and for a moment, he saw her—his mother—standing among the vines, hand outstretched. She looked exactly as he remembered before the accident that took her life.
"You're not losing control," she said gently. "You're afraid. And fear feeds the dark root."
Tears blurred his vision. "You're not real."
"Maybe not," she whispered, "but your strength is. You don't fight the Green, Billy. You are the Green."
He looked down at his trembling hands. The black veins spreading through them began to fade, replaced by a fierce emerald glow.
Maskborn's laughter echoed in the distance, distorted now, deeper—less human.
"Too late, boy. The Black Root is awake!"
Billy turned toward the pulsing Heart. It was mutating, stretching, becoming something monstrous. Shapes formed from the blackness—faces screaming, bodies twisting into grotesque forms.
The Hollow Garden was becoming a nightmare.
He pressed his hand to his chest, whispering, "Then it's time to wake it up."
The ground erupted with light.
Billy's eyes blazed pure green, and the entire forest responded.
Every vine, every leaf, every root turned toward him.
He raised his arms, shouting over the storm, "I am not your vessel. I am your voice!"
The Garden roared—an ocean of sound and fury.
The black corruption recoiled, thrashing against his will, but the golden light from within him spread, merging with the Green.
Maskborn appeared again, his armor cracked, his body pulsing with darkness. "You think you can contain it? You'll burn yourself out!"
Billy stared at him, power radiating from his very heartbeat. "Maybe. But I'll take you with me."
He launched forward, every ounce of energy exploding outward. The collision was apocalyptic.
Light and shadow crashed, tearing through the Hollow Garden in a storm of life and death. The roots shattered. The ground split open. Time itself seemed to freeze.
When the light finally faded, only silence remained.
Billy lay motionless, surrounded by the remains of the Garden—half green, half black.
Maskborn was gone.
The Heart had stopped beating.
Billy tried to move but couldn't. His vision blurred. The last thing he saw was a faint figure walking toward him—Helena's voice, distant and breaking through static.
"Billy… we found you. Hold on."
Then everything went dark.