Echoes of Hollow

"Are you seeing what I’m seeing?" Teodoro asked.

"A unicorn?"

"What?"

"Damn it, of course I am!"

At Teodoro's request, the wolves retreated, leaving the old man alone once more so they could observe his reaction. As they moved away, the man stood up. His chant intensified, and, as if following a programmed sequence, his fingers returned to the drawing in the sand.

"Are you sure you don’t feel anything when you hear what he’s saying?" Lior asked.

The wolves exchanged glances, showing nothing more than discomfort—not because of the words themselves, but because of the grim situation they found themselves in. The smell was different, but the sight and texture of the blood were the same. A slight tremor ran through them as the blood reminded them of something they all wished to forget: the red door.

"He’s not saying much," Lykos replied. "He just keeps repeating the same things."

"Yeah, strange, meaningless combinations of random letters, right?"

"No. 'He will awaken.' Most of the time, he repeats that phrase like some kind of chant."

"What...? You can understand him?" Teodoro and Lior asked, confused.

"Huh? Why wouldn’t I? We all can, right?" Lykos turned to the other wolves, who nodded in agreement.

Lior glanced to the side, his gaze falling on Admetos, who was flying over Liwmorr, seemingly trying to understand the use of mana by observing both Hye and himself. "Could you understand it too?" he asked.

"What...?" the boy responded, confused. "Are you talking to me?"

"Yes. Could you understand what that man was saying?"

"Well, I think so... But... I don’t really remember. Sorry."

Even if Admetos could understand the words, he couldn’t recall a single one of those written on the walls—let alone those spoken by the man before him. His mind had been far from focused on such details at that moment. The words slipped away, leaving only the sinister smile of the man he had killed.

"Call him. And he will respond," Hye repeated the man’s words. "We will respond. He will awaken."

"You... you can understand him too?"

"Yes, why? Shouldn’t I?"

"And why didn’t you mention this before?"

"Because you didn’t ask? There were a few other things as well. 'He is not dead, he is not. He only sleeps, sleeps, sleeps.' Those were the words he was repeating when you fell. And 'sleeps' was the one said most often. Which, I believe, obviously means that whoever is responsible for this is still asleep."

"Yeah, but he also said 'he will awaken,'" Lior murmured, his eyes wandering but always returning to Hye. Lior couldn’t help but wonder why Hye was so strange, even by his family’s standards. "And what about the bowing? Did he do that too?"

"Yes..." Admetos replied, averting his gaze.

"There were also some interesting things on the walls."

'Interesting...?'

"From what I could tell, they seemed to be a mix of the man’s thoughts and an attempt to draw and describe the creature."

"What...? And you didn’t mention this because I didn’t ask?" Lior sighed, Hye’s contemplative expression already serving as an adequate response. It seemed Hye either didn’t grasp the gravity of the situation or, being unaffected, simply didn’t care. "...And what did these descriptions say?"

"Hmm. It’s more than just an attempt to connect or create a path, unlike what you initially thought. The creature—whatever it is—is extremely ancient. According to the man’s description, it’s been asleep since the beginning. It doesn’t just connect; it turns all its 'chosen' into parts of itself, merging them into one being."

"...And its physical description?"

"Octopus-like head. Demon wings. Obscure humanoid body. But even so, I don’t think that description is entirely accurate. If mere words are enough to unsettle you, I believe seeing its true, complete form would render the connection useless since people wouldn’t survive the sight."

"Octopus head? What the—"

"Huh? That description..." Teodoro interrupted. "Doesn’t it remind you of something?"

"Hmm... A kraken?"

"Oh, I forgot about that. But no. I was thinking more of Cthulhu. Not the ones from games or movies, but the one from the original book—the one whose universe we couldn’t trace back to."

"Alyia once said the human who wrote those words was lucky," the Nephilim added.

"Or unlucky..."

"Exactly. Because the creatures he dreamed of and wrote about weren’t meant to be accessible to us—let alone those in the lower universes."

"So, do you think the one behind all this is Cthulhu?" Lior asked, standing over a place infested with monsters along Ireland’s coast. Creatures now roamed freely in areas once dominated by humans.

"Maybe... If it is, the fact that those who come into contact with the beast become part of it would make sense. In the end, they wouldn’t be chosen. Just as Alyia said about the writer who had neither soul nor a place in heaven or hell, they’re nothing more than parts of the creature, sent away for some reason—its servants and children, unaware until the first contact is made."

"And where did she go exactly? If this is true, I don’t think killing them will solve anything."

"Hmm..." A powerful lightning bolt tore through the skies, ripping apart their reality and linking it to one above. Those capable of perceiving the vision turned their eyes upward. "It seems she’s trying to resolve this another way," the Nephilim said.

"Do you think they’re connected to this somehow?"

"For her to be this angry... probably. And I’d rather not get scolded when she comes back, so I’ll do my part. You should do the same."

"I know..." Lior sighed, watching the ruined country below.

Portals no longer containing monsters spread everywhere. From the waters, creatures capable of walking emerged, fleeing the bloody war raging at sea. On land, an even more devastating battle unfolded. Only the strongest among them could live even slightly differently from how they had in their natural habitats.

Corpses of various creatures lay everywhere. Giant serpents sprawled across streets and crumbling buildings. Pale beings, whose frozen corpses continued to chill their surroundings and any weaker beings who tried to approach, dotted the area. Those dominating the skies—creatures with wings fused to their front limbs—watched from afar with unnerving calm, destroying everything in their path with a single beat of their wings. The thought of attacking them? It hadn’t even crossed anyone’s mind.

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

"For the last time, listen to me—my father is not here."

Her feet slid, and her wings flared back, pushing away the siblings following her. The path was cleared, and as the light faded, the adjacent reality opened, split as if by a blade.

"You bastards... I haven’t even been gone for an hour..." Alyia muttered, clenching her fist with growing strength. "I warned you. I told you he couldn’t be controlled. And yet, you send him straight to my house?!"

The angels scattered, fleeing from the movement of her hand.

"Pardon...? That..." Miguel froze, confused. "What are you talking about? We haven’t even started yet."

"What...?"

The archangel’s wings moved, radiating a dazzling golden glow. The broken realities began to rebuild themselves, and as they touched it in awe, the lightly injured angels were healed.

"That’s impossible. You know that as well as I do. Leaving the year aside, it’s still August 13th. Changing time is pointless, and the tutorial hasn’t even finished. We didn’t cause this... and we couldn’t have. The beast doesn’t—"

"Answer to calls..." Alyia murmured, her thoughts racing. She ignored the archangel’s approach, her gaze fixed on the magnificent sky below, looking far beyond.

"Are you certain you weren’t mistaken?" the angel asked.

"Tsk! I wish I had been... If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I’d say the same thing."

"You witnessed it...? You saw the creature? And survived?"

"No. I saw one of its parts. And I only heard its voice."

"But you’re still intact..."

"Just barely, much to your disappointment."

"Hmm... Then, sooner than expected, the tutorial will have to—"

"Yes," said a voice that echoed throughout the Kingdom, making every angel present kneel and every archangel bow in respect and awe. "Inform Samael—the waiting period is over. Metatron," upon hearing his name, the scribe dropped to one knee, "tell everyone that the 'game' is about to begin."

"As you wish, Father," the angelic beings responded in unison, their words resounding like a heavenly choir.

"And to think he wasn’t even here, huh?"

At Alyia’s remark, every gaze turned to her, laden with reproach.

"Before you leave, allow me to tell you just one thing," the archangel said as the other angels vanished around them with the sound of beating wings. "We overlooked your little stunt with the young dragon, just as we allowed the Nephilim to remain by your side at Father’s request. But do not be mistaken. We may not be able to kill you, but continue testing me and my brothers, and even if it means going against Father’s orders, we will ensure that you never use such degrading language in His presence again."

"...Is that a threat?"

"A warning. The others are far less patient than I am, so tread carefully. And most importantly... do not aim those fists of yours at my brothers ever again."

As both the skies and the golden radiance surrounding her faded, Alyia found herself hovering above South America. The entrance to the Kingdom of Angels was now sealed, but many eyes still followed her—across realities and dimensions alike.

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

Years ago, the Leviathan roared fiercely over the waters. The turmoil of the oceans created powerful, unstoppable waves. The result? The destruction of islands, coasts, cities, and entire nations.

"That Leviathan..." said Admetos as he observed the aftermath of the destruction below. "Is it really going to return?"

"Many pray it won’t," Lior replied. "But, as far as I know, yes. And contrary to expectations, it will be soon."

"Why do you say that, Lior?"

As the clouds above dissipated, the creatures scattered. Bearing a youthful demeanor, the one who had witnessed the catastrophes years ago, seemingly untouched by time, appeared before the trio.

"Don’t you know it brings bad luck?"

On the ground, the body of a creature large enough to stretch across entire nations served as the boundary marking the safe territories of Europe. In the sky, carrying a cold, blue gaze, hovered the one who had placed it there.

"Two humans... or almost, and two monsters. What exactly are you doing here?"

"I hope the 'almost' wasn’t directed at me," Lior said. "And don’t pretend you don’t know. You’ve encountered several of them already. Take me to them."

"Several... Oh, you mean the lunatics muttering strange words? Why? What are you planning? You do realize, unlike what your monsters are doing in America and Teodoro in the South, I won’t let you kill them and make it seem like they never existed, don’t you?"

"You won’t allow it...? If you want the population here to descend into chaos because of this, I don’t care. That choice is yours."

"That choice, huh... Fine." Opening the way, Daniel permitted the three to pass. "Come on, I’ll take you to them."

A place without portals—imagine that such a thing could truly exist. Admetos observed life in the areas below. Unlike what occurred just a “wall” away, fear did not seem to be the dominant emotion among its inhabitants.

On the way here, even within cities, he saw the entrances to various dungeons. People walked near them, most weak and fragile, trusting in the so-called condition that they would only open after seven days and in the hunters, whether from the guilds or the association. True, they didn’t appear to feel intense fear. But suspicion was evident in the occasional glances they cast toward the portals.

The desire for his mother to live freely remained, but... a fragile freedom in a paper-thin world—what would that truly be worth? To become strong to free her or to protect her—which was the better path? Faced with yet another twisted smile and the prospect of spilling more blood, he couldn’t decide.

The hot, red liquid dripping from his claws didn’t evoke the tremors of terror or fear one might expect. Instead, his father’s image crept into his mind, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. But his heart raced, and a faint smile crossed his face. Fear was no longer there, and despair had long since faded. What remained was only confusion—confusion over the fact that the liquid flowing didn’t disgust him, and never had. On the contrary, it stirred something within, compelling him to seek more.

And so, toward the light, his feet slowly ascended the steps.