"In hollow places, echoes carry the weight of forgotten souls."
— Letter from Hotaru no Yakusha
---
The hollow was a cavern beneath the mountain, dark and cold as a grave.
Every step Shindō took stirred whispers from the shadows—voices lost to time but never to memory.
He moved cautiously, nodachi ready, senses sharpened by years of blood and betrayal.
This was no ordinary place—it was the wound beneath the world's flesh, where secrets festered and truths decayed.
---
Yuuki's voice came like a distant song, steady and haunting.
"Echoes here don't just repeat. They warn. They haunt. They remember."
Shindō paused, listening to the murmurs—ghosts of battles past, promises broken, and the weight of all that remained unsaid.
---
Suddenly, a flicker of movement—shadows coalescing into figures, faces twisted with rage and sorrow.
The cultists had followed them here, drawn by the promise of annihilation.
Steel met steel in a deadly dance beneath the mountain's cold heart.
---
When silence returned, the hollow held only echoes—and Shindō's heavy breath.
He knew this fight was far from over.