Volume 1 · Chapter 5Hollow in the Walls
The sky over Cadence Station had darkened to an ashen purple by mid‑afternoon—a sign that the cycle's decay was accelerating. Ren's ribs still throbbed where Chu had bandaged him, but each breath felt easier beneath her careful care. They'd sheltered in an old subway entrance, barricading the crumbling stairwell with rusted beams and chunks of concrete. The narrow tunnel smelled of damp earth and rust; overhead, water dripped in a steady rhythm, marking every second closer to the end of Day 3.
Chu crouched beside a small fire she'd coaxed from scavenged wood, her silver hair tied back to keep it from catching sparks. She studied Ren with guarded intensity as she roasted a handful of foraged mushrooms. Every so often, she paused—knife poised—and glanced down the empty tunnel as though expecting something to burst from the shadows.
Ren shifted on a makeshift cushion. "You seem… on edge." He tried a reassuring smile, but it wavered. "Did you find safe food?"
Chu offered him a mushroom. He bit into it, savoring its earthy warmth. "Thank you." He swallowed, then chose his words. "Why do you keep looking over your shoulder?"
Her violet‑gray eyes flickered. She stirred the embers with a stick. "Because I've learned what hides in the walls." Her voice dropped. "Tonight, the Hollows will come."
"Hollows?" Ren's heart skipped. He recalled Chu's sketches—those swirling, jagged forms she'd drawn, limbs elongated into impossible angles, faces twisted in silent screams.
Chu nodded, extinguishing her knife's small flame. "Abominations born from the loop's entropy. They hunt memory. They devour hope. They appeared around Day 5 in earlier cycles—but now, they're coming earlier."
Ren felt the air thicken. "What do they look like?"
She stood and reached into her satchel, pulling out a brittle page. Understood only by black ink and red highlights, it depicted a tall, gaunt figure with hollow eyes and fingers like blades. "They slip through the cracks—walls, floors, sometimes even the air itself. If they catch you alone… you become part of the ruin."
A low rumble trembled beneath their feet. Ren froze. "There." He pointed down the tunnel. It was silent—too silent—yet the vibration grew stronger.
Chu's hand hovered over the hilt of a curved dagger hanging at her waist. "Stay close," she whispered.
They moved forward, feet crunching on gravel and shattered tile. The tunnel walls on either side were carved with veins of cracked concrete, revealing layers of metal and wiring. In places, the walls seemed to pulse—as though the very earth were breathing.
The rumble crescendoed into a distant howl—a soundless shriek that vibrated through Ren's bones. He clasped his arms around his middle, trying to steady himself. Chu stepped in front, lantern raised. Its pale glow danced across the walls, illuminating scratch‑like markings: tally marks counting down from forty‑two, smeared red where fresh.
"They're close," Chu murmured. "Fifteen meters, maybe less." She tucked the sketch into her belt and gripped the dagger. "On my mark."
They rounded a corner, and the tunnel stretched into a yawning chamber—walls curved like a half‑shell of concrete. Beyond it lay an open platform where the tracks once ran. Two battered lampposts still flickered, their electric hum struggling against the decay.
Ren's breath caught. The chamber was empty—only cobwebs and rust-laced beams. But the air felt viscous, as if it soaked up light.
"Now," Chu hissed.
She sprang forward, blade slicing the air in a controlled arc. At her movement, the shadows coalesced: three figures emerged where there had been none, bodies elongated, limbs twisting like bent steel rods. Their hollow faces had no eyes—only deep black wells that seemed to suck in the lantern's glow.
Ren's heart thundered, but Chu moved with fierce grace. She circled the nearest Hollow, slashing at its arm. Sparks flew where steel met… whatever these things were made of. The blade vibrated, crackling with energy like a tuning fork struck too hard. The creature recoiled, a soundless blur of agony distorting its form, before reforming almost instantly.
Ren realized the dagger's metal was etched with glowing runes—symbols he recognized from Chu's sketchbook: looping spirals and star‑like glyphs. He'd assumed they were purely decorative; now he saw they were a source of power.
A second Hollow lunged at Ren. He staggered back, tripping over rubble. It raised a blade‑thin arm, aiming for his throat. His instincts seized him—he ducked and rolled, heart pounding so loud he heard it in his ears. When he rose, the creature was upon him again.
A burst of blue light flared as Chu kicked the first Hollow into the second, sending both crashing against the chamber wall. The runes on her dagger glowed brighter, pulsing in time with her heartbeat. She darted to Ren's side, placing a hand on his chest. Her eyes flickered silver. "Stay down."
She swung the blade in a wide arc. Energy lanced from its edge, slicing through the air with a humming roar. The nearest Hollow shattered like dark glass, shards of shadow dissipating into motes of dust. The second staggered, its twisted form unraveling at the seams. It reached a malformed hand toward Chu, but with a final pulse of light, it collapsed into darkness.
Ren stared, breathless. "How…?"
Chu sank to one knee, gathering shards of shadow into the palm of her free hand. They swirled like black ash, then she exhaled and they scattered into the tunnel, disappearing into cracks in the concrete.
She dropped the dagger, breathing hard. The runes faded, and the blade's edge dulled to ordinary steel. She glanced at Ren, eyes softening with relief and something like sorrow. "They'll keep coming, until Day 42."
Ren placed a hand on her shoulder. "We fought them."
Chu pressed his hand back, voice raw. "For now." She scanned the chamber, expression guarded. "But I need more power."
Ren frowned. "More power?"
Chu rose and retrieved her sketch. Flipping to the back pages, she revealed swirling diagrams of energy nodes and ley‑line convergences beneath the city. "There's a ley nexus beneath this station. It amplifies my magic—if I can channel it." She traced a finger over a point marked in red. "But I've never dared to try."
Ren studied the map. "If you can unleash that… we might clear the station—maybe even break the loop."
She met his gaze. "Or it could destroy us both." Her lips curved in a bitter half‑smile. "Do you really want to risk everything now, Day 3?"
Ren's pulse hammered. "I risked everything the moment I woke and found you fighting alone." He straightened, voice firm. "I trust you—and I trust this." He tapped the map. "Show me how."
Chu's eyes searched his, measuring the resolve there. Finally, she nodded. "Tomorrow night, at midnight. We'll attempt the nexus ritual." She tucked the sketchbook away and offered him her hand. "But tonight… we rest."
Ren took her hand. Despite the ache in his side and the dread that hung like smoke in the tunnel, hope kindled in his chest. Together, they walked back toward their makeshift camp—two souls bound by memory, ready to face the horrors the walls still hid.
Behind them, the chamber lay silent once more—its Hollows defeated, but its deeper shadows yet to stir.