Echoes of Hollow

"Hye, hmm..."

"Yes? …Do you want me to stay here again until you fall asleep?"

"No!" Hilary exclaimed, turning her back to Hye and pulling the blanket close to her mouth. "I already told you, I'm fine… That girl..."

"Huh?"

"Can I see her again? I think I want to thank her one more time."

"Maybe, I’m not sure yet… But now’s not the time to talk about this. You need to sleep; it’s almost 10 p.m. If Aunt finds out you’re still awake at this hour, even I wouldn’t get away with it."

Hye walked to the door but stopped to look back at the girl on the bed in silence.

"And this time, no more videos, remember?" he stretched out his hand as if waiting for something. After a tongue click, a small smartphone flew out from under the blanket into his hand. "Hmm, the tablet too. And the laptop."

"Seriously?" the child asked, to which Hye replied with pure silence.

With the devices in hand, he walked out of the room, leaving behind a pouting Hilary with annoyed eyes that, with little choice, soon had to close.

***************

[Daily Missions

Running: 5 km / 20 km

Squats: 10,000 / 10,000

Push-ups: 10,000 / 9,994

Sit-ups: 10,000 / 10,000]

Balancing on a single finger, Hye continues to exercise his body in a calm and seemingly effortless manner, reaching the point where he brings his face close to the ceiling and returns to the starting position, arms extended, without showing any change in his expression.

[...995; ...996; ...997; ...998; ...999...]

[Congratulations]

[You have completed the daily missions]

[4 points have been earned]

[Name: Lucas Santos de Oliveira

Level: 309

Points required for the next level: 309 / 179

Status

Strength: 1,143

Stamina: 1,143

Agility: 1,143

Abilities

Void (??)

Invisible Steps (active)

Electrokinesis (active)

Pyrokinesis (active)

Fusion (active)

Poison Resistance (passive)

Complete Recovery (active??)

Absolute Mastery of Daggers (passive??)

+]

"A name...?"

Pushing off with the tip of his finger, Hye propelled himself into the air, flipping effortlessly to sit on the ridge of the roof, his balance immediately steady. His gaze shifted to the streets below, where a few people passed by—some of whom seemed to have been watching him just moments earlier.

"...Are you sure about this?"

Like a cloth being slowly wrung, his chest felt a faint, subtle squeeze, while a strange bitterness welled up in his mouth. The sound of wings slicing through the wind reached him, and cutting through the darkness of the night came the dark figure. Shrinking quickly as it approached, the creature landed on his shoulder, settling down in its usual resting place.

"Yes," the creature answered.

Looking to the sky, Hye appeared lost in thought for a moment. His eyes wandered over the stars again and again as memories surfaced—the reason why his name had been Lucas from the very beginning, something that left no room for debate or hesitation.

"My little source of light..." That was what his mother used to call him, even though, from birth, his face had remained unchanged—without tears, without cries.

*'...It seems that many hold similar thoughts about this—choosing a name. The meaning, though rarely mentioned, appears to carry immense weight. I remember my aunt spending hours poring over lists of names before Hilary was born. In the end, she chose the one that best reflected her feelings during most of that time: happiness...'*

"Hm..." Bringing his gaze back to his surroundings, Hye looked at the creature for a moment. "So... Liwmorr..., what do you think?"

"Liwmorr...?"

"Yes. In your native tongue: *Li* for 'light,' *w* for 'in,' *mo* for 'middle,' and *rr* for 'darkness.' It’s a simple combination of small parts from several words. I don’t think I’m capable of coming up with anything more elaborate than that."

"Liwmorr..." the creature murmured, its tone filled with admiration. "May I ask for one more thing?"

"...Go ahead."

"Can I... call you Father?"

Where had this question come from? Hye wondered, though he already knew the answer. The interactions with the wolves, the journey back home, the moments during his run, and even the flight just moments ago—all those instances offered opportunities for the creature to gather information. Listening and absorbing every word spoken within a probable radius of kilometers, it had pieced together something Hye himself could do if he so desired.

"...If you wish, yes."

The bitterness in his chest intensified. Looking toward the street, he saw Samantha approaching and leaped to the door in one swift motion.

"Tomorrow," he said, stopping silently by her side, "I assume you’re not going, right?"

"Oh, yes, good evening to you too, Hye."

"..."

Tossing her bag aside, Samantha let her body collapse onto the sofa. Her gaze wandered, alternating between the ceiling and the hallway leading to Hilary’s room.

"No, tell her I’m sorry, but... I’ll be quite busy for a few more days."

"Of course..." Hye murmured, seating himself on the sofa opposite hers. "I was thinking of something that might help the werewolves adapt more quickly to living here. Can you assist me?"

"Hmm?"

"...Some of them would need to spend time with you daily to familiarize themselves with the routines here."

"That wouldn’t be practical. Even if there were 50 in each group, you’d need almost 20 groups rotating through the days. It’s better to come up with something that involves all of them at once."

Hye remained silent for a moment, omitting the fact that the number of werewolves in the forest had already decreased compared to what Samantha imagined.

"I’ll handle it," he said. "But for now, this option is better than no option at all."

"...Fine," Samantha replied, yielding to his determined gaze. "But no more than 10. That’s the limit."

"I thought you said 50?"

"Don’t push it."

"Alright, understood. I’m heading out." As he walked toward the stairs, Hye paused and looked back. "Do you have the number for the principal of Hilary’s school?"

"...Whatever you’re planning, stop it. You’re not putting them in the same place she studies. Ever."

"...It’s not that. I need to inform him that, for now, she’s grounded and shouldn’t use any devices, even at school."

"Grounded...? Why?"

"It’s nothing serious, don’t worry. She just repeated some strange words she picked up from videos online."

"Hm... It should be in the planner inside the drawer by the stairs."

Reclining against the back of the sofa, Samantha slid down until she was lying flat, silently watching Hye’s figure retreat as he quickly ascended the dark brown stairs.

'No matter how reckless he can be, he wouldn’t do that... right?'

Closing her eyes and slowly succumbing to sleep, she sighed. At some point during the night, the discomfort of the hard surface beneath her head vanished, replaced by something soft and cushioned. The cold that enveloped her was also gone, substituted by a warm and comforting embrace.

Perhaps the recent events had been too stressful for all of them, because that night, everyone in the house shared a peculiar and unsettling dream.

In a dark, icy void where their bodies moved in an alien, disjointed manner, as though they were drifting through deep waters, they felt an intense, watchful gaze upon them. Their reactions were similar, yet varied in intensity. Hilary was the most frantic, tirelessly searching for the source of the gaze amidst the darkness, all while trying to escape and cry out for help—though, for some inexplicable reason, her voice failed her.

Samantha, despite the rising terror twisting in her gut, seemed to remind herself it was just a dream—a horrific one, yes, but still a dream. She searched for the observer, not as desperately, but ultimately failed as well.

Hye, on the other hand, adapted almost immediately to the strange conditions of his body. Turning around, he surveyed his surroundings, catching sight of something neither Samantha nor Hilary even came close to perceiving.

Glowing, enormous green eyes stared back at him, unblinking, studying him in silence. Around them, what appeared to be tendrils writhed and danced through the air, shrouding the oppressive void.

Upon waking, none of them remembered the dream in detail. Hilary couldn’t explain why her bed was soaked—a situation she hadn’t experienced in years. Nor could they recall the strange sounds that had reached their ears during their time in the darkness.

For Samantha, it was unsettling noises that made her shudder and almost break under the weight of her fear. But for Hye and Hilary, it was something else entirely: cryptic, alien words that they inexplicably understood.

"Gn'buibgn'nyuiyw pgl p'cnsplw," the entity had said.

"Motionless, I wait."

***************

"Mana...?" Arche questioned, standing amidst the crowd of werewolves. "He was here when that woman came. He should know we can’t use it."

Whispers spread throughout the forest, but this time they weren’t filled with disapproval or opposition. Instead, doubt and confusion lingered in the air. Especially among those who had previously tried under Alyia's guidance, none could understand why Hye would assign them a task that seemed utterly impossible.

For a moment, they debated amongst themselves, but an unsettling fear began to take hold. Perhaps—just perhaps—the assumption they’d all had at one point was correct. What if this was a request destined to fail, a test they were doomed to flunk? And worse, what if Hye was well aware of that?

"Please, calm down! Let me finish," Admetos implored, his soft voice struggling to be heard above the murmurs. But despite not being loud enough to drown him out, most of the werewolves were too distracted to truly listen.

"Hey! Enough!" Andreas bellowed from where he sat beneath a nearby tree. His abrupt outburst was odd enough to catch the attention of Lykos, who gave him a questioning glance. But despite the peculiarity, the interruption was effective in silencing the crowd and refocusing their attention. "Go on, kid."

"Uh, right..." Admetos gulped under the weight of their stares. "He said... He said we might be able to feel mana when we transform and that we should try to use it based on that."

"When transforming..." one of the werewolves murmured, echoing a thought that seemed to ripple through the crowd. Then came the sound of bones snapping and reshaping, reverberating throughout the forest as several of them began shifting.

"Anything?" Lykos asked, his claws retracting as he reverted to his human form. He turned to Arche, who shook her head in response.

"I think... yes," a voice muttered nonchalantly from somewhere within the crowd. "Yeah, I think I felt it! I did!"

Every gaze immediately snapped toward the speaker, and the crowd’s attention shifted in an instant.

"What is it?" Andreas demanded, striding toward the woman. "Tell me—what did you feel?!"

Taking a slow step back, she shivered. Those eyes—Andreas' eyes—seemed to strip away her very essence, reducing her to nothing more than a vessel of information. There was something primal in his gaze, as voracious and untamed as the most deeply buried instincts within herself. She had felt this before. They all had. It was the same fear that lingered in their darkest memories.

"Andreas," Lykos said, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. The weight of his tone commanded authority, though it carried a subtle plea. "Calm down. First, give her some space."

A loud grinding of teeth echoed through the clearing, prompting those closest to Andreas to take careful, measured steps backward. Save for Lykos, everyone near him quivered, their eyes darting around, seeking the safest path of retreat.

"..." Andreas surveyed the faces around him. In their eyes, he saw the budding bloom of fear—the same fear that gripped him whenever the image of that monstrous beast surfaced in his mind. His fists clenched tightly, his knuckles white with tension. Then, without a word, he turned away. "...I’m sorry... I truly am," he muttered before heading toward one of the nearly finished houses.

Lykos watched him go, his brows furrowed in concern. Slowly, almost unconsciously, he began to follow, his steps hesitant and deliberate. He would have continued if not for Arche, who reached out and grabbed his wrist, halting him mid-step.

Not now, her gaze conveyed. Maybe later, but not now. This is more important. Eudora is more important.

Understanding her silent message, Lykos hesitated for only a moment before turning back. The weight in his chest remained heavy, the haunting image lingering in his mind, but the option to press forward dissolved entirely.

"So," Arche said, extending a hand to the shaken woman. Her tone was gentler, steadier. "What exactly did you feel?"

***************

"Ad..." murmured the woman, her voice tender as she gently ran her fingers through Admetos' hair. "I’m so sorry..."

"Why are you saying that, Mom?" Admetos asked, standing upright to meet her gaze directly. "I’m fine, really. You don’t have to worry."

"But..."

"Oh, that’s right! I almost forgot." Reaching into the pocket of his sweatshirt, Admetos pulled out a few snacks he had saved and offered them to her. "Here, I saved some for you. They’re really good."

He had wanted to bring them back in their original packaging, but the sight of blood dripping near the snacks had made that impossible. For a moment, he had considered throwing them all away, but fortunately, five pieces remained untouched. Those were the ones he salvaged.

"..." How could she address this? Everyone here was far too accustomed to the scent of blood to pretend otherwise, even at great distances. She couldn’t ask her son why these snacks carried that metallic odor when, deep down, she couldn’t even deny her own failure to resist when *he* said he would take him.

"Yes..." she said, forcing a smile as she chewed the snacks, though it felt as if her chest was being crushed. In her mind, far beyond the scent, the taste of blood lingered heavily in her mouth. "They’re really good, my son."

Tears welled in her eyes, but she wiped them away quickly before Admetos could notice. Not that he would have, anyway. His focus was elsewhere, his gaze wandering to the pile of straw where his little sister slept soundly. The boy couldn’t help but recall the things he had seen earlier—the light, the joy, and the "happiness." No matter the cost, he would make them experience it too.

"Mom, I’m going to play for a while," Admetos said, standing up and smiling warmly at her. "I’ll be back soon, okay?"

"...Don’t go too far."

"I know, I won’t go past the fence."

"And also..."

"And also, I won’t go near the shiny portals," he finished before she could.

As she watched her son walk away, she couldn’t hold herself together any longer. Turning and sprinting in the opposite direction, she reached a safe distance and fell to her knees. Her insides churned violently, and she couldn’t stop herself from vomiting.

***

'A small flicker of warmth...' Admetos thought, seated on a stone in an isolated part of the forest. Before his eyes, his hand twisted unnaturally as his bones fractured and reassembled themselves in an endless cycle.

The moon loomed overhead, its pale light casting an eerie glow on the forest floor. His pursuit was relentless. It couldn’t stop. Not even the pain could deter him.

'If I can be the first, it will mean something—even if it’s insignificant to him. It will be proof.'

The relentless sound of cracking filled the air, spreading further up his arm as the transformation faltered again. Each bone and muscle twisted and reformed into shapes that were increasingly inhuman, the pain escalating with every failure.

'I will be the first. I will succeed! I have to...'

***************

Standing outside the door, Lykos sighs deeply. As he reaches for the handle, he hesitates. He can hear Andreas’s trembling clearly, and the sound of tears hitting the cold floor of the unfinished house seems to be falling onto him as well, heavy, drowning him more and more.

That anger, not only towards the world around him or those who surround him, but also towards himself for being too weak, powerless—he has felt it and knows it well. Lost in the stairway... Sighing, he turns to return to his family.

Although he wishes he could help his friend, there is nothing he can truly do. Nothing, except for saying a few words before stepping away... words he himself would have liked to have heard before.

"Don’t climb the stairs, Andreas. And if you’ve already done so, don’t open the door... Believe me... it may seem tempting, but it won’t give you the answer you’re looking for."