The Crimson Hollow Rift's cavern exhaled a fading breath, its crimson veins dimmed to a sullen glow that pulsed faintly against the frost-choked stone. Mason Reid's boots crunched softly, each step a deliberate tether to reality; his Shadeforged armor, Tier C and etched with shadow runes, clung to his frame, its hum a quiet pulse against the whispers that clawed at his mind: The Hollow binds you; you are its heart.
His shard blade, gripped tightly, flickered with shadow energy, its weight a grounding force; the ward relic at his belt sputtered, its pulse nearly spent after the Rift's relentless distortion.
These whispers… they're not just noise anymore; they want something from me. His Veilstrider sigil burned, a searing heat that seemed to sync with the cavern's rhythm, and the System's notification lingered:
***
[Objective Complete: Rift Perimeter Secured; Reward: 250 Essence, Tier B Relic Voucher; Hidden Objective Unlocked: Investigate Hollow's Origin].
***
Kael's robed form stood at the cavern's center, a void against the fading crimson light; their voice, low and commanding, sliced through the team's weary silence: "We camp here until dawn; the Rift's stable, but the Covenant's shadow remains."
Mason nodded, his muscles aching as he scanned the cavern's jagged walls; the shattered altar's runes lay scattered like broken teeth, their power drained, yet the air crackled with a latent charge.
Stable, they say, but this place feels like it's holding its breath. "Understood," he said, his voice rough from exertion. "I'll take first watch."
Coren slumped against a stalagmite, his bow across his knees, knuckles white; Elise cleaned her daggers, their green runes dim, her eyes darting nervously.
Lena's wards shimmered, a blue veil shielding the team from the Rift's residual distortion; her short-cropped hair caught the cavern's light, and her gaze met Mason's, a quiet intensity in her hazel eyes.
She sees too much; it's like she knows I'm fraying. Her words from the altar fight echoed: You're tied to this place, Reid.
"Lena, your wards holding?" he asked, keeping his tone steady.
She nodded, her voice calm: "Barely; this Rift's not done with us." Mason's stomach tightened.
The System chimed:
***
[Status Update: Mental Stability at 52%; Recommendation: Rest and Recalibrate].
***
Rest? With these voices in my head? Good luck. The whispers surged: You are the Hollow's key; you cannot rest.
The team set up camp, their movements sluggish; Torren's crew unpacked rations, their Tier B gear clinking, their usual bravado replaced by sharp mutters.
Syl knelt beside Gav, her healing runes glowing to mend a gash on his arm; her face was pale, her stamina visibly waning.
They're all breaking, and I'm barely holding it together. Mason's HP was at 950, his stamina at 50%, the ward relic's boost fading; he sat on a frost-dusted rock, his shard blade across his lap. "Brant, your shield's taken a beating," he called, nodding at the tank's cracked gear.
Brant grunted, polishing the dented surface: "It'll hold; this Rift's worse than the shield."
A tremor rippled through the cavern, faint but sharp; Mason's senses snapped to attention, his sigil flaring. Not again; we just cleared this place.
"Coren, eyes up," he said, his voice low as he signaled the archer.
Coren notched an arrow, his hands trembling.
The System warned:
***
[Trace Detected: Residual Rift Energy – Tier C; Source: Northern Alcove].
***
Mason's heart thudded; The Hollow's not letting go.
He relayed the warning to Kael, who approached, their void energy coiling like smoke. "Investigate," they said, their voice edged with caution. "Take Lena and Elise; no risks."
Mason nodded, gripping his blade. "On it," he said, his tone firm despite the unease pooling in his gut.
The northern alcove was a labyrinth of frost and shadow, its crimson veins thinner but pulsing with a sickly rhythm; Lena's wards flared, their blue glow clashing with the cavern's light. This place feels like it's breathing, waiting for me to slip.
Elise's daggers gleamed, her voice a whisper: "It's alive, Reid; I can feel it."
Mason's sigil burned, the whispers clearer: Find the source; claim its truth. "Stay tight," he said, his eyes scanning the alcove. "Something's here."
A cluster of runes glowed on a stone slab, their light erratic; the System identified them:
***
[Rift Echo – Tier C+; Function: Memory Fragment].
***
A memory? This could be the Hollow's past. His breath caught, the whispers urging: Touch it; see what was.
Mason hesitated, his ward relic's pulse fading; Lena's voice cut through, firm but soft: "Careful, Reid; it's tied to the core."
She's right, but I need answers.
"I know," he said, meeting her gaze. "Cover me."
Her wards pulsed, steadying him; he reached for the runes, his fingers trembling. A surge of energy slammed through him, his sigil blazing; visions flooded his mind: a sky fractured by crimson Rifts, a shadowed figure chanting in a tongue that burned his ears, and a pulse that shook Erithis's core.
The System chimed:
***
[Memory Unlocked: Hollow's Genesis – Partial; Reward: 50 Essence].
***
What the hell was that? His HP dropped to 900, his vision swimming.
Lena's hand gripped his arm, her touch a lifeline. "Reid, you with us?" she asked, her voice sharp.
The alcove trembled, shadows coalescing; the System warned:
***
[Threat Detected: Rift Shades – Tier C+; Count: 5].
***
Of course, it's never just answers.
"Shades incoming!" Mason shouted, his Hollow Pulse skill thrumming. His blade glowed with crimson-shadow energy; he struck, the enhanced strike carving through a shade's form.
***
[Damage Dealt: 290; Shade HP Critical];
***
His stamina dropped to 45%. Elise's poison runes crippled another, Lena's wards deflecting claws; the shades dissolved swiftly, the System logging:
***
[Kill Confirmed: Rift Shades – Tier C+; Essence Gained: 75 Units].
***
Mason panted, his sigil cooling. The Hollow's playing games, and I'm the pawn.
]The alcove's runes flickered out, their energy spent; Mason's sigil still burned, the visions of the Hollow's genesis searing his mind like a brand. A fractured sky, a shadowed figure, Rifts tearing Erithis apart—they felt like memories he'd lived, not seen.
I'm not just tied to this place; I'm part of it, aren't I? His ward relic was drained, its pulse gone; his HP stabilized at 950, Syl's runes mending the strain.
Lena's wards dimmed, her eyes searching his; "What did you see, Reid?" she asked, her voice low, a mix of worry and resolve.
She deserves to know, but how do I explain this?
"A broken world," he said, his voice rough. "Rifts everywhere, and someone… something was calling them."
Kael joined them, their void energy coiling around the slab; "A memory fragment," they said, their voice heavy with certainty. "The Rift holds Erithis's secrets; the Covenant wants them."
The Covenant… they're not just after power; they're chasing this. Mason's mind raced, the System's hidden objective—Investigate Hollow's Origin—now a tangible weight; the whispers urged: Seek the truth; it is your fate.
"We need more of these fragments," he said, meeting Kael's hidden gaze. "They're the key."
Kael nodded, their voice calm: "Agreed, but not now; rest while you can."
Rest? With this in my head? Mason's sigil pulsed, a reminder of the Hollow's grip.
The team regrouped at the camp, their rations dry and tasteless; Torren's crew sat apart, their murmurs sharp with fear.
Brant polished his cracked shield, his voice gruff: "This Rift's cursed; we're not walking out clean."
He's not wrong; this place marks you.
"We've made it this far," Mason said, forcing confidence. "We'll handle what's next."
Syl nodded, her healing runes dim as she tended to Gav; Mason's stamina crept to 60%, his relic useless.
The System chimed:
***
[Status Update: Hollow Pulse Integration – 25%; Warning: Skill Overuse Risk].
***
This skill's a double-edged blade; it's strong, but it's eating me. His heart sank; the crimson energy felt like a chain, binding him to the Rift.
Lena sat nearby, her wards dim but her focus unshaken; she offered Mason a waterskin, her voice soft: "You're carrying too much, Reid; you don't have to do this alone."
She sees right through me, and it's terrifying.
"I'm fine," he said, taking the waterskin, his fingers brushing hers. "But thanks, Lena."
Her faint smile stirred something in him, a warmth he buried; the whispers murmured: She knows you; she cannot understand. He focused on the cavern's pulse, its rhythm slower but unyielding. This place is alive, and it's watching every move.
A faint hum broke the silence, sharp and discordant; Mason's senses snapped to attention, his sigil flaring. Not again; we need a break.
"Coren, you hear that?" he asked, his voice low.
Coren notched an arrow, his eyes darting; the System warned:
***
[Threat Detected: Rift Wraiths – Tier B-; Count: 4].
***
"Wraiths!" Mason shouted, his Hollow Pulse thrumming.
His blade glowed, crimson-shadow energy surging; he moved with Elise, their steps swift. The wraiths materialized, their claws slashing; Mason's Rift Step flickered, dodging a blow that grazed his armor, shaving 130 HP. Too close. His Veil Pierce struck, Hollow Pulse enhancing it;
***
[Damage Dealt: 310; Wraith HP Critical];
***
His stamina dropped to 50%.
Elise's poison runes crippled a wraith, its screech piercing; Coren's frost arrow slowed another, ice spreading. Lena's wards deflected a crimson shockwave; "Cores, Reid!" she called, her voice steady.
Mason's Ascendant Strike ignited, cleaving through a wraith;
***
[Kill Confirmed: Rift Wraith – Tier B-; Essence Gained: 50 Units].
***
His HP dipped to 870, Syl's runes restoring 120; the camp settled, but the veins pulsed faintly, a mocking rhythm. The Hollow's laughing at us.
"Everyone okay?" he asked, his voice hoarse. Brant nodded, his shield raised; the team's faces were grim, their morale fraying.
Kael's voice was sharp: "Double the watch; we can't afford mistakes."
They're right; the Covenant's still out there.
"I'll take second shift," Mason said, gripping his blade. Lena's wards glowed softly, her presence a quiet anchor; she nodded at him, a silent reassurance.
The System chimed:
***
[Objective Updated: Prepare for Rift Extraction; Warning: Covenant Activity Detected].
***
His sigil burned, the whispers clearer: They seek the Hollow; you are its key. The cavern's pulse was a constant reminder; the Rift's secrets were unraveling, and Mason was their unwilling center.
The cavern's crimson veins pulsed with a sluggish, defiant rhythm, their dim light casting grotesque shadows across the frost-dusted floor; the Rift's core, stabilized but restless, hummed with a low menace that set Mason's nerves on edge.
His shard blade rested across his lap, its shadow energy flickering; his stamina was at 55%, his HP at 890, the ward relic dead. I'm running on fumes, and this place knows it.
The System's warning lingered:
***
[Covenant Activity Detected; Estimated Threat: Tier B to A-; Count: Unknown].
***
The whispers were relentless, their words sharp: They hunt you; you are the Hollow's prize.
"Kael, any read on their numbers?" he asked, his voice steady despite the unease coiling in his gut.
Kael stood at the camp's edge, their void energy a coiling storm; "Close, and too many," they said, their voice grim. "Scouts, western passage; find their approach."
Another fight, and we're barely standing. Mason nodded, signaling Coren and Elise; Lena joined, her wards glowing faintly. "Let's move," he said, meeting her gaze. "Stay sharp, Lena."
Her voice was calm: "Always, Reid."
The System offered:
***
[Tactical Option: Reconnaissance – 70% Success Chance];
***
He relayed it to Kael, who nodded, their gaze intense.
The western passage was a maze of frost and shadow, its crimson veins pulsing erratically; the air was thick, charged with malice that made Mason's sigil flare. This is their territory now.
His Rift Step hummed, ready; a rhythmic chant echoed, the Covenant's cadence from the ambush. "Hear that?" he whispered, crouching behind a stalagmite. Lena's wards pulsed, shielding them.
Elise's voice was tense: "It's a ritual, Reid; they're summoning something."
Great, just what we need. The whispers urged: Stop them; you are the Hollow's blade.
"We need eyes on them," he said, his blade raised. "Quietly."
The passage opened into a vast chamber, where fifteen Covenant acolytes formed a circle; their black robes shimmered with runes, and a central figure in crimson plate wielded a staff topped with a glowing orb.
The System identified it:
***
[Ashen Covenant Hierarch – Tier A-; Skill: Void Ascension].
***
A hierarch? We're outmatched. Mason's heart sank; the hierarch's presence was a crushing weight, its gaze sweeping the chamber. The whispers roared: It sees you; it will claim you.
"We can't take that head-on," he whispered, his voice tight.
Lena nodded, her wards flaring; "Disrupt the acolytes first," she said, her voice steady.
The System offered:
***
[Tactical Option: Disrupt Ritual – 55% Success Chance].
***
Risky, but we've got no choice.
"We hit fast," Mason said, his Hollow Pulse thrumming. He used Rift Step, flickering behind an acolyte; his Veil Pierce, enhanced by Hollow Pulse, carved through its chest.
***
[Damage Dealt: 330; Acolyte HP Critical];
***
His stamina hit 45%. Elise's poison runes crippled another, Coren's frost arrow slowing a third; Lena's wards deflected fire runes, her focus unshaken.
"Keep it up!" Mason shouted, his blade flashing; the acolytes faltered, their chant breaking.
The hierarch roared, its staff glowing; a crimson shockwave erupted, knocking Mason back and shaving 220 HP.
***
[HP: 670; Minor Concussion Risk].
***
That hurt. Syl's runes flared, restoring 150 HP; Lena's wards shielded them from a second wave.
"Focus the hierarch!" Mason yelled, his Ascendant Strike igniting. Hollow Pulse surged, crimson-shadow energy cleaving into the hierarch's arm;
***
[Damage Dealt: 360; Hierarch HP Reduced];
***
His stamina plummeted to 35%. The whispers screamed: End it; the Hollow feeds on blood.
He staggered, Lena's ward steadying him; "Reid, stay with us!" she shouted, her voice cutting through.
The team fought desperately; Brant's cracked shield absorbed the hierarch's strikes, sparks flying. Torren's crew flanked the acolytes, their swords cutting through; Gav's fire runes scorched the chamber, the heat blistering Mason's skin.
We're barely holding. Mason used Rift Step, striking the hierarch's flank; Hollow Pulse flared, cleaving deep.
***
[Critical Hit: 420 Damage; Hierarch HP Critical];
***
His stamina hit 25%, his vision blurring. The hierarch fell, dissolving into smoke;
***
[Kill Confirmed: Ashen Covenant Hierarch – Tier A-; Essence Gained: 130 Units].
***
The acolytes fled, Kael's void blasts finishing them.
The chamber stilled, the ritual's hum gone; Mason's HP stabilized at 780, Syl's runes flickering.
The System chimed:
***
[Objective Complete: Covenant Threat Neutralized; Reward: 350 Essence, Tier B+ Relic Voucher].
***
We won, but at what cost?
His sigil cooled, the whispers fading: You've fought; the Hollow waits.
Lena's wards dimmed, her face pale; "You're reckless, Reid," she said, a faint smile softening her words.
"Had to be done," he said, his chest tight. The cavern pulsed once, a final echo; the Rift was secure, but its secrets bound Mason tighter, and he knew the Hollow's call would return.