Dominion of the hollow king

The world inverted.

Lucien fell through the estate like a dagger through rotting fruit—past wine cellars where bottles pulsed with black liquid, through servant quarters frozen in mid-scream, down into foundations where stones bled ichor.

His silver mask-eyes burned as he tumbled into the Maw's chamber.

He should have shattered on impact.

Instead, he landed in a crouch—his hollowed-out muscles moving with alien precision. Before him stretched a cathedral of living flesh: rib-like arches pulsed above, the floor undulated like a sleeping beast's flank, and at the center—

Kael sat upon a throne of screaming faces.

"Lesson two," he said, fingers steepled. "How to properly wield what's been taken from you."

First Exchange: Silver vs. Void

Lucien moved before he could think.

[Martial Arts Mastery] surged—his spine straightened, hands formed the Crane's Beak strike. Unlimited mana roared through corrupted channels.

Kael didn't rise.

A flick of his wrist.

Black threads erupted from the floor, humming with anti-mana. Lucien's Skill Analyzation flared:

[Void Bindings]

• Composition: 78% corrupted saint-bone

• Weakness: Requires anchor points

Lucien twisted mid-air. Silver flames erupted from his palms, severing three threads—

The fourth wrapped around his ankle and yanked.

The floor met his face like a hammer.

Second Exchange: The Apostle Interrupts

Wax dripped from above.

Orlan reformed mid-fall—a molten marionette of burning eyes and slurred scripture. The third eye in his chest pulsed—

—and the chamber sang.

[Hymn of Unmaking] screamed through the air in waves. Where they passed, stone melted.

Lucien rolled, barely dodging a note that scorched the hair from his scalp.

His mask-eyes pulsed:

[Frequency Disruption]

Lucien clapped his palms together.

Silver mana detonated outward in a concussive burst, shattering the hymn's waveform. The backlash staggered Orlan.

Kael applauded, slow and steady.

Third Exchange: Throne Room Blitz

Lucien dashed forward.

[Enhanced Musculature] overloaded his body—mana-fed tendons howled as he blurred across the chamber.

First strike: A Crane's Beak aimed at Orlan's central eye. The apostle twisted, losing a chunk of shoulder.

Second strike: A spinning kick wreathed in silver fire. Kael's threads snapped like brittle bone.

Third—

Kael caught his fist.

"Predictable."

The crown pulsed.

The throne shrieked.

Final Exchange: The Hollowing

The blast launched Lucien across the chamber.

He crashed through three arches of pulsing flesh and skidded to a stop. Blood—thick and black—poured from his ears.

Mask-eyes flickered with damage reports:

[Right Arm: Fractured]

[Ribcage: 43% Compromised]

[Mana Channels: Overload Imminent]

Across the room, Orlan reformed again.

Kael rose.

His shadow stretched unnaturally across the organic stone.

Lucien stood. His body moved without consent.

Silver fire condensed into a blade-shaped mass—unstable, volatile.

A suicide technique.

Kael sighed.

"Still missing the point."

He snapped his fingers.

The Maw woke.

Final Line

Some weapons aren't meant to be held.

They're meant to be unleashed.