The night weighed heavily on everyone, a thick tension filling the air as the Vesperians pushed forward with their mission. Yet something felt off, an eerie sense of unease settling in. It wasn't long before they stumbled upon a shocking sight—Dareth, their once-proud comrade, now sprawled on the ground. His body was a mess of bruises, blood, and cuts, and he seemed barely able to move, his once confident form now utterly defeated. It was as though he had been through hell itself.
"Obsidian... we have company," a voice hissed, pulling Obsidian's attention back to the present. And there they were—standing before them in the shadowy dimness, the marines. Lucina, Faustina, and... unexpectedly, Desmond.
Desmond stood at the front, his grin wide and mischievous, as though he were watching a great performance unfold before him. He casually clapped his hands together, the sound breaking the silence like an unwelcome interruption.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" Desmond's voice was smooth, almost mockingly polite. "Good to see you again, Obsidian." He seemed genuinely entertained, as if this situation was something he had been eagerly waiting for.
Obsidian's gaze hardened, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed the marines in front of him. There was no hiding the shock on his face, but he quickly regained his composure. "What's going on here, Desmond? Why are you standing with them?" His voice was steady, but beneath the calm surface, there was a simmering anger.
Desmond raised an eyebrow, his grin widening even further. "I think you've forgotten something important, my old friend. You told me all about your plans to take over this island, didn't you? How you were going to seize control and make it yours." He paused, letting the weight of his words hang in the air. Obsidian clenched his fists at his sides, but Desmond didn't seem phased. "Well, that's not going to happen, Obsidian."
Obsidian's face tightened in confusion and disbelief. "What do you mean? You're working with the marines now?"
Desmond's grin turned into something more sinister, his voice dropping to a low, almost mocking tone. "You see, you made one fatal mistake. You thought you were in control, but I've been one step ahead of you the whole time. You told me everything—your plans, your methods. You trusted me with it all, thinking I would join your little revolution. But the truth is, you never saw the bigger picture, did you?"
Obsidian's eyes darkened as the realization began to hit him, the full gravity of Desmond's betrayal sinking in. "So what's your game, then? Why are you with the marines?"
Desmond's eyes glittered with a cold, calculating light. "It's quite simple, really. The island belongs to the marines, not you. Not your so-called royal family. It's all been a charade, Obsidian. You were never meant to win." He paused for a moment, savoring the moment, watching the flicker of frustration cross Obsidian's face. "All I did was spread false information to everyone I met. Hollow, the Royal Guards... it was all part of the plan. You were the perfect pawn in my game, and you never even saw it coming."
Obsidian's expression twisted, his voice rising with anger. "You betrayed us, Desmond. You used us all just for your own gain."
Desmond shrugged casually, unfazed by Obsidian's outburst. "I told you everything, didn't I? I shared your plans with my allies. You gave me all the pieces I needed, and now I'm just putting them together. You were never going to be able to take this island. It was always ours."
Lucina stepped forward then, her cold eyes locking onto Obsidian. "Desmond's right. You were always out of your depth. This island belongs to the marines. And now, thanks to Desmond's 'generosity,' we're going to lock you up and make sure your little schemes never come to fruition."
Obsidian stood in stunned silence, the full weight of their words crushing him. The betrayal stung more than any wound. Desmond, his once-trusted ally, had played him like a fool. There was no denying it now. He had been outsmarted.
Desmond chuckled, relishing in the moment. "It's over, Obsidian. You've lost." He turned to the marines, raising his hand in a signal. "Take them away."
"You really think we'll just let you lock us up? This is a joke," Obsidian spat, his voice thick with fury. "You were lying to me the entire time."
Desmond smirked, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Exactly. Just like we tormented the Voreans before. Now, it's the Vesperians' turn." He shrugged nonchalantly, unfazed by Obsidian's anger. "Forget about the underwater city you were so obsessed with. We already found it. But I needed to give you a reason to believe in our charade."
Obsidian's glare was like daggers, but he stood his ground, unyielding despite their overwhelming numbers. "Of course, it was the sea police who'd humiliate every other race except for human-kind. I truly hope Hollow didn't buy your story. Because if he did, then I guess you really did win."
Desmond's grin stretched wider, but Obsidian wasn't finished. His voice grew darker with defiance. "Even then, the Vesperians won't surrender. We've come this far, and we've finally taken control of the city beneath the full moon. But..." He clenched his fists, frustration bubbling beneath his words. "Even that... got delayed. Fine, Desmond... Bring it on, you marine freaks. Let's see if you really think you've won."
In the distance, Hollow stood atop the same building, looking like he couldn't care less. "Figures," he muttered, voice dripping with frustration and indifference. "No point in dragging this out." He could see everything, thanks to his knack for reading the scene from miles away—like he was watching the mess unfold, but didn't give a damn about being part of it.
"Unite the races? Please. The gate was always open. I was just too blind to see it. Guess I'm just another idiot in the end," Hollow sneered, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. He tilted his head back, staring at the moon like it owed him something. The rain started to pour, as if the world was tired of playing this game too.
"And Mendy's gone too. Not like it matters anymore..." Hollow stood there, letting the rain soak through his clothes, the cold water hitting his skin like the weight of everything he'd been running from. His shoulders slumped just slightly, like the last bit of pride he had was too tired to hold up anymore.
"Guess I messed it all up, huh? All those lies... those stupid little games. I wanted to fix it, to put things back where they should be, but..." His voice trailed off, lost in the sound of the rain crashing against the pavement. He stepped closer to the edge of the building, peering out at the ocean, watching the waves crash violently as if nature itself was as broken as he felt.
"Sorry, Stitch... sorry for the hell you went through as a kid. I just wanted to help... but maybe I was more of a burden than anything. At least now, you don't need me. Or Mendy. You found your own way. You've got friends—real ones. Not some twisted curse like what I was. But... with Mendy gone, it's over for me, too. I don't think I've got much time left anyway. But hey, that's fine. You're free now. And, I guess, I'm free too. Even if that freedom means walking away."
He took a long, heavy breath, closing his eyes for a moment as the rain beat down relentlessly.
"You deserve to live your life without us hanging over you. No more manipulation. No more pain. Just... go live, Stitch. Live for you. And... maybe, just maybe, I'll get to feel some of that peace I've been chasing, too. Mendy and I? We'll be watching over you, always. We've done what we could. But it's your turn now."
Hollow glanced at the moon one last time, the shadows of his past stretching out before him, fading as the rain fell harder. "Go on, kid. Make it count. And don't let anyone ever tell you you're anything less than what you are."
With that, Hollow let out a long sigh, his voice barely audible above the rain as he muttered, "Guess this is the end of the road for me. But... I'm good with that."
Hollow turned slowly, his hands still buried deep in his pockets, feeling the cold, steady drizzle soak into his skin. A faint, ghostly presence stirred around him—a soft, shimmering figure that he knew all too well. It was Mendy, floating like a specter, her form ethereal but unmistakable.
He walked toward the edge of the building, his movements deliberate, unhurried, as if each step was one he knew he might never take again. The city stretched out below him, silent and endless, but Hollow wasn't looking at it. His gaze was fixed ahead, past the horizon, where his thoughts lingered.
"But, you know, Stitch... you really did change my life." His voice was quieter now, soft and full of a raw, aching warmth. "You made me feel like I wasn't alone. Like I had something to live for. Like... I was your family. A father to a daughter who never really existed, but still—" Hollow chuckled softly, bitterly. "Still, I was happy. I got to have that chance. And I know you're happy too, even if you won't understand just yet."
Mendy hovered just beside him, gentle and sweet as always, her soft presence wrapping around him like a delicate embrace. Hollow smiled faintly, his eyes closing, feeling the weight of her inescapable comfort.
"Yeah, I know you're with me, Mendy." His voice trembled just slightly. "I never thought it would end like this... but I guess that's how things go sometimes, huh? Time doesn't wait for anyone."
He sighed, a long, heavy breath that echoed with the weight of unspoken things. "Stitch... goodbye. I'll never forget you. Neither will Mendy. And I hope... I really hope... you'll carry us with you. Even when we're not around. You'll always be a part of us, kid."
He turned his face upward toward the heavens, his expression softened by the warmth of his memories. "See ya, little one. Love you."
As the last words escaped his lips, the rain poured harder, the sound of it mingling with the silence that followed, as Hollow let go of everything—his regrets, his pain, his past—and finally embraced the peace he had been seeking for so long.
Hollow stood at the edge of the building, the rain now a soft, rhythmic patter against the world around him. His eyes were closed, and for a fleeting moment, the pain, the struggles, and the years of torment seemed to fade away. The cool air wrapped around him like a final embrace.
With a quiet breath, Hollow let go. Sparkles—delicate, shimmering flecks of light—began to swirl around him, a cascade of ethereal particles that glimmered and swayed as if dancing with the wind. His form began to blur, fading into the night like a star slowly dissolving into the cosmos. Mendy's presence lingered, a soft glow, like the fading echo of a dream.
In an instant, Hollow was gone. The sparkling remnants of his being fluttered into the wind, like a whisper carried by time, leaving nothing behind but the memory of his words. His final goodbye.
Meanwhile, across the city, Stitch lay in her bed, the soft warmth of blankets cocooning her. Her eyes fluttered open, and as she gazed through the window, her vision caught the fleeting streak of a comet—its bright tail trailing across the sky in a brilliant arc. It shone like a beacon in the dark, cutting through the clouds with its quiet majesty.
The sight was enough to stop her heart.
She sat up slowly, her eyes searching the sky as her thoughts wandered. The comet sparkled with a brilliance that reminded her so much of Hollow. Of Mendy. The way they had both been like shooting stars—brilliant, brief, yet unforgettable.
Tears welled in her eyes as the image of Hollow's smile flashed in her mind. His final words, his warmth, his love... all of it coming back to her in a flood.
Stitch pressed her hand to her chest, feeling an aching emptiness inside. The comet blinked out of existence, but its light lingered in her heart, as if a part of them would never leave her. She whispered into the quiet night, her voice small and fragile.
"Goodbye... I'll never forget you. Both of you. I promise."
And in that moment, beneath the vast expanse of stars, Stitch felt the presence of her lost friends—faint, yet undeniable—like an everlasting light shining somewhere in the distance.
~ Mendy will protect you, Stitch. It will protect you better than anyone else. But you'll have to learn how to control it, how to understand the power it has. And it won't be easy. ~
"Hollow..." Stitch whispered, her voice barely audible against the soft hum of the night. Her gaze remained fixed on the fading comet, its light now a soft, distant memory. "It wasn't Mendy, was it? It was you. Even though you were never fully real, not in the way I could touch or hold you, you still existed. You had a form... A presence that was undeniable. You were the one. The one who always knew where I was, the one who always found me, even when I was lost, even when I was broken. You were the one who stood by me, invisible yet so close, always there when I needed you most."
Her voice faltered for a moment, as the weight of understanding settled deep in her chest, heavy but comforting. "You weren't just a reflection of Mendy. No, you were more than that. You two... You were one. Two halves of a whole. Together, yet apart. That's why you could find me when I was at my lowest, when those pirates hurt me. You were the anchor, the tether, the constant through it all. And now, I see it so clearly." She wiped away the tears that had begun to slip down her cheeks, smiling through the sadness.
"You and Mendy, you were two souls bound together, split by fate, but always meant to be. Thank you, Hollow. Thank you for being there when no one else was. You gave me something I didn't even know I needed—someone to believe in, someone to care for me even in your own brokenness. You gave me a family when I thought I had nothing left."
Stitch's heart ached with the realization, but there was a quiet peace that accompanied it, like the gentle exhale of a long-held breath. "I will never forget you, Hollow. I'll carry your memory with me, in every step I take, in every choice I make. You may be gone, but you'll never truly be lost to me. You'll always be a part of me, a part of my heart, woven into who I am."
The night seemed to grow even quieter around her, as though the world itself was pausing in reverence. Stitch held her breath, letting the stillness wash over her, and for a moment, she felt the warmth of Hollow's presence—faint, but unmistakable. "Goodbye, Hollow," she whispered, the words more a promise than a farewell. "You'll never be forgotten. Not by me. Not by anyone. Thank you..."
~ "See ya, kid." ~
To be continued...