The city of Dravenloch was still scarred. Whole districts lay in ash, walls collapsed into heaps, and the stink of burnt flesh clung to the air. To common folk, it was another disaster survived, another reason to bow their heads and hope the ruling families would not turn their eyes toward them.
But in the high places, in chambers carved of black stone and laced with silver veins, the ruling families spoke.
The House of Falcon, the House of Fray, the House of Vermin, and others of equal cruelty had gathered. These families had ruled the Masta Realm for centuries, bound together by blood and strength, despising one another yet united in their contempt for the weak.
They sat at a circular table, long as a battlefield, their banners hanging behind them. Each banner pulsed faintly, woven with threads of cultivation, as if mocking the Hollowborn who would never possess such light.
It was Lord Moleway Skull who broke the silence first. His voice was like gravel wrapped in steel.
"The breach in Dravenloch is sealed. The beasts scattered. The damage contained. And yet…"
He paused,his eyes narrowing, his long fingers tapping against the obsidian table.
"There are whispers. That the beasts… carried away Hollowborn."
The room erupted in laughter.
Lady Siren Falcon leaned back in her throne-like seat, her golden hair flowing down like liquid flame...as she said:
"Carried away trash? Let them have them. The beasts save us the trouble of cleaning the streets."
Her jest drew cruel chuckles. Hollowborn were dirt, tools, bodies to burn in the name of order. None here shed tears for them.
Yet one did not laugh.
It was Lord Eager Maverick, his face half-hidden behind a mask of black iron,as he spoke slowly. "Still. Beasts dragging Hollowborn through wormholes is… unusual."
His voice carried weight, and the others fell quiet.
H continued..."The Maker's Curse beasts kill. They devour. They tear apart. But they do not… collect."
The words settled like dust in the chamber. The ruling families prided themselves on knowledge. Every wormhole breach was studied, mapped, dissected. But this was new. This was wrong.
Lady Siren waved her hand, dismissive....as she says..."Perhaps the creatures grow playful. What does it matter? A Hollowborn alive or dead changes nothing."
But Lord Eager Maverick leaned forward, his eyes burning like coals...."It matters if they are not dead. If something in the rift makes use of them. If the Hollowborn are given… what they do not deserve."
The words hung heavy. For centuries, Hollowborn had been the lowest rung, the discarded, the forgotten. The thought of them changing unsettled even the most arrogant lord.
A younger voice cut through the silence — Lord Kent Fray.... the newest of the great seats, sharp-eyed and ambitious..."I've heard reports. From Dravenloch's cleanup crews. They say fewer Hollowborn corpses were found than expected."
Murmurs rippled around the table. This was no laughter now.
Lord Eager's iron mask tilted..."So they were taken."
No one spoke for a long while. The silence stretched until the air itself felt brittle.
Then Lord Moleway Skull voice rumbled again... "We must send watchers. Quiet ones. Let the beasts drag their prey if they wish—but let us see where they are taken."
Lady Siren Falcon sneered..."You would waste resources chasing shadows in the void?"
"Not shadows," Lord Moleway said coldly. "Insurance. Should Hollowborn stir, should the rift shape them… I will not have rats gnawing at the foundations of our houses."
The others did not argue. Pride they had in plenty, but pride did not make them blind. The Masta Realm was built on order, and if that order cracked—if Hollowborn, of all creatures, rose—chaos would follow.
So it was decided. Not loudly, not openly, but with nods and murmurs. The families would investigate. Not because they cared for the Hollowborn, but because they could not afford to ignore the unknown.
---
That night, riders cloaked in shadow left the great halls. Scouts trained in the arts of silence, spies who moved like whispers, were dispatched to watch the wormholes. Not to protect the Hollowborn. Not to save them.
But to learn.
For if the beasts had purpose, then the families would uncover it. And if the Hollowborn truly were being shaped into something more…
Then they would be destroyed before they could rise.
---
Meanwhile, in the streets of Dravenloch, people whispered of the fire, of the dead, of the night the sky opened. They whispered too of Hollowborn dragged screaming into the rift, and though most spat in contempt, a few whispered differently.
What if the Hollowborn were not dead?
What if they returned?
What if the forgotten came back, not weak and broken, but strong?
So many unanswered questions....
And though none of the ruling families would admit it, in the corners of their hearts, that thought lingered.
But of course as soon as the families plan on sending Scout out....other forces hoping to bring chaos in the realm laid out their plan also....
In a small dim and isolated place....two figures could be seen seated there conversing...
One wore a black mask with the number "5" written in it's forehead.....while the other a gray mask with the number "6" written on it...
Number 6 chuckled...."so it's has begun....the time for chaos in the realm...."
Number 5, responded " I wonder how those pathetic, all knowing families would fare against us.... after all they caused us so much trouble, it's only natural we pay back in tenfold"
"Oh....there would be chaos for sure....hahaha " Number 6 said as he laughed...."I heard we just had a new batch of hollow ones....and someone was able to awaken a vestige of a shadowed one"....
He continued...."Should we..."
Before he could continue he was interrupted by Number 5 " Not yet.... let's see what' he's capable of doing....then we will decide.... after all he needs to have his fun....hahahaha"
"Oh...I wonder how he will turn out"...