The trenches were already lost.
By the time Herzl and Anna reached the front line, the air was thick with smoke and screams. Bullets were useless now—dozens of soldiers fired into the darkness, only for the Nacht to keep charging, their limbs twisting unnaturally, their wounds closing faster than flesh should.
A soldier stumbled backward, clutching his face.
"They don't die!" he shrieked. "I shot it four times! It smiled at me!"
"Back! Form a line!" Grim barked, voice like thunder through the chaos. "Use your Inn—regular weapons won't save you!"
Anna moved like lightning, her form shimmering, phasing between attacks. Each strike of her blade shimmered with aura, severing limbs and heads that didn't regrow.
Herzl followed her lead.
He focused his Inn into his limbs, into his blade—visualizing weight, balance, intent. He slashed through one of the Nacht. The creature didn't scream; it simply crumbled into itself, collapsing into a pile of ash and rusted bone.
That was the key.
Inn kills them.
Herzl moved faster now, driven by purpose. The horrors that had once terrified him now looked… beatable.
Until he saw it.
From the smoke emerged a creature unlike the others—taller, armored in shards of black steel fused with its skin. Its face was a mask of bone, and from its back erupted wings of barbed sinew. The earth withered beneath its steps.
Grim saw it too.
"A Hollow One," he said, voice low.
Anna cursed under her breath. "They brought a damn Hollow into the field?"
Herzl gritted his teeth. "What's a Hollow?"
Grim looked at him with rare seriousness. "They're not born. They're made. Humans who gave up everything to become Nacht. You can't reason with them. You don't survive them."
The Hollow One raised its hand—and three soldiers nearby imploded, their bodies folding inward like paper. Their screams were silent, crushed before they could finish.
"Split up!" Grim roared. "Don't stay together—it feeds on cohesion!"
Anna vanished in a blur. Grim's Inn cloaked his body in dark mist. Herzl, filled with adrenaline and reckless instinct, ran straight at the Hollow.
The creature saw him coming and swung its twisted arm down.
Herzl rolled beneath it, slashing upward—but the blade barely nicked its armor.
Suddenly the creature turned—and vanished.
No—moved. So fast Herzl barely saw it.
It reappeared behind him.
Claws plunged into Herzl's side.
Pain exploded through him. Blood hit the snow like ink in water.
"Herzl!" Anna screamed from the flank.
Grim was already moving—he struck the creature's head with a hammer of pure Inn, staggering it backward just enough to free Herzl from its grasp.
But the damage was done.
Herzl collapsed to his knees, vision dimming. Cold flooded his veins. He could barely hear Anna shouting, or Grim cursing as he held the Hollow at bay.
Then—darkness.
Somewhere Else…
Herzl awoke in silence.
Not snow. Not flame. Not pain.
A void.
He stood in a colorless field, surrounded by endless black sky. And in the distance, a shape—vague, flickering—stood watching him.
It looked like him.
Same face. Same eyes.
But its mouth was stitched shut, and from its chest hung broken chains.
"Who are you?" Herzl whispered.
The figure said nothing. But the chains began to rattle.
And Herzl understood.
This was his Inn—untamed, locked away by fear, by weakness, by doubt.
The figure reached out and placed a hand on Herzl's chest.
Burn, it whispered—not with words, but with soul.
Back in Reality
Herzl's eyes snapped open.
His body was still broken, bleeding—but something burned inside him now. The warmth wasn't gentle. It was violent. It demanded release.
He screamed—and his aura exploded outward like a shockwave.
The Hollow staggered.
Anna gasped.
Grim smirked.
"Now you're awake," he muttered.
Herzl stood—wounds sealing, energy pouring off him like a storm. His Inn had broken through the chains.
He gripped his sword tighter, eyes glowing with newfound fury.
"I'm not dying here," he growled. "Not until I burn this nightmare to the ground."