Kai plunged into the storm of the Hollow's mind, his forged blade burning bright against the endless black.
Every step forward was a battle — shadows slashed at him with memories, false hopes, fears he thought he had buried.
He saw flashes of the past:
— His mother's last words before the Exodus ships left Earth.
— Friends he couldn't save in the early Resistance days.
— His own face, distorted by failure.
Each vision clawed at him, trying to drag him down.
But Kai fought harder, using the light of the Forge to sever the illusions.
Every cut pushed him closer to the Core Mind, a towering entity that shifted and writhed like a storm made solid.
He could feel it watching him — curious, almost amused.
[You are flawed,] the Core whispered. [You carry pain. Doubt. Fear. Why persist?]
Kai gritted his teeth, slicing apart another illusion.
"Because flaws are what make us real," he shouted.
"And real beats perfect any day."
The Hollow recoiled slightly, as if stung.
But before Kai could press forward, the shadows shifted again.
This time, the darkness formed into a familiar figure.
A girl — no older than sixteen — with laughing eyes and a crooked smile.
"Kai," she said softly.
Kai froze.
It was Ari.
His little sister.
Dead for years — one of the first victims when the Hollow invaded their colony.
He knew it wasn't truly her.
Knew it was a weapon made of his grief.
But gods, she looked so real.
"Ari..." he whispered, his blade trembling.
She reached out a hand, gentle and pleading.
"You can stop fighting," she said.
"You don't have to hurt anymore. Come with me. We can be together again."
Kai's heart shattered.
The temptation was almost unbearable.
Give in. Rest. Forget the pain.
Be with her again.
All it would cost was everything he had sworn to protect.
Tears blurred his vision.
But then he remembered.
He remembered Eira's fierce loyalty.
Riven's brutal determination.
Lune's desperate hope.
The living — the ones still fighting.
If he gave up now, he wouldn't just lose himself.
He'd betray them all.
Kai tightened his grip on the blade.
"I love you," he said, voice breaking.
"But you're gone."
He thrust the blade through the illusion.
The false Ari crumbled into ash, her smile lingering a moment longer.
The Hollow shrieked — not in rage, but in disappointment.
[You could have known peace,] it whispered.
Kai lifted his blade higher.
"I don't want peace if it means forgetting who I am."
He charged forward, the Core Mind looming before him, vast and endless.
This was it.
The true battle.
No more tricks.
No more lies.
Just one human against an ancient, broken god.
And for the first time, Kai knew:
He wasn't alone.
He carried every memory, every hope, every stubborn refusal to quit.
And that made him stronger than anything the Hollow could understand.