The pulse didn't fade. It rolled through the Hollow again, slower this time, heavier—like the whole place was acknowledging him. The silk beneath Allen's boots flexed with the rhythm, a living carpet that seemed to bend in greeting. The brood above kept still, their many eyes glimmering faintly in the darkness, but he could feel them watching—not just the ones here, but something further, deeper.
The others felt it too. Fina's hand shifted toward her sword hilt, but she didn't draw it. Rinni's knuckles whitened around her spear, though her smirk hadn't faded. Nyxilith's spider legs twitched in sync with the pulse, while Xilthera stood perfectly still, gaze fixed on the dark tunnel ahead.
Then, like threads loosening after a knot, the silk around them began to part on its own. Strands unwound in silence, curling back into the walls to reveal a long corridor. The air was different here—warmer, charged, as if they were walking straight into the heart of something vast and aware.
