Caius's breaths were shallow. The weight of what he had seen in the Veil clung to him like an iron shroud.
The Hollow King was not the greatest threat.
The war they fought now—the burning kingdom, the rebellion, the bloodshed—it was only a fraction of the real battle.
Something older. Something inevitable.
And at the center of it all, himself.
Selene kept her hands on his shoulders, grounding him. "Caius, talk to me."
He forced himself to focus, to steady his breath. The Catacombs were dimly lit by torchlight, the air damp with the scent of old stone and earth. Whispers of concern rippled through the gathered rebels, some watching with suspicion, others with quiet dread.
Elias crouched beside him, gaze sharp. "You went deeper than last time, didn't you?"
Caius swallowed, his throat dry. "I saw… something."
Not just something. A future.
His own golden eyes burned into his mind—the version of himself who had already taken the throne, who had already become something else.
"What did you see?" Selene asked softly.
Caius hesitated. He wanted to tell them everything.
But how did he explain the feeling of inevitability?
That no matter which path he took, every step led him closer to that throne?
That his choices, his defiance, might be nothing more than time playing a cruel trick?
Instead, he forced out, "The throne. Not the Hollow King's. Something older. And I was—"
His throat clenched. He couldn't say it.
Selene's grip tightened. "You were what?"
Caius shut his eyes for a moment, then forced himself to face her. "Sitting on it."
Silence.
Selene blinked, her expression unreadable. Elias, however, cursed under his breath.
"You're telling me you saw yourself ruling? As what—the next Hollow King?" His voice was a mixture of disbelief and accusation.
Caius clenched his fists. "I don't know."
Selene's expression darkened. "Caius, tell me this isn't—" She stopped herself, eyes flickering with something raw. "Tell me this isn't prophecy."
Prophecy.
Caius almost laughed.
If only it were that simple.
This wasn't some vision carved in stone, a divine warning of what could be.
No.
This was time itself showing him what would happen.
And that meant something worse.
It could not be stopped.
"I don't believe in fate," he said, voice rough.
Elias gave him a sharp look. "Then why do you look like you're about to fall apart?"
Caius exhaled through his teeth. "Because belief doesn't change reality."
Selene's brows furrowed. "Then we change it."
The sheer certainty in her words made his chest tighten.
"Caius." She forced him to meet her gaze, and there was no fear there—only unwavering trust. "Whatever this thing showed you, whatever it said—you decide who you become. No one else."
Her words steadied something inside him.
But the weight of what he had seen remained.
The throne was waiting.
And time was running out.
Far beyond the ruins of Evernight, in the heart of the Hollow Keep, shadows stretched.
The throne room was a vast, cavernous space, carved from obsidian-black stone. The walls pulsed with faint veins of something ancient, whispering through the cracks like a living thing.
At the center of it sat the Hollow King.
He was motionless, fingers resting against the armrests, his golden eyes gleaming from the depths of his helm.
In the dim light, his presence was an immovable force, something that had existed long before the rebellion, long before the war.
And in the space before him, a figure knelt.
Calrix, the Hollow King's most loyal blade. His head was bowed in deference, though his sharp, predatory gaze flickered with anticipation.
"My King," Calrix said, voice low, reverent. "The boy has returned from the Veil."
The Hollow King's eyes did not shift, did not flicker.
But the room itself darkened.
Calrix kept his composure, but even he felt the pressure, the unspoken power that rippled through the air.
"Did he see it?" the Hollow King asked.
Calrix hesitated. "It is unclear."
A pause.
Then, the Hollow King slowly leaned forward.
"He saw it."
Calrix lifted his head. "If that is the case, then should we—"
"No." The word was final, cutting through the silence like a blade.
The Hollow King's lips curved beneath his helm.
"Let the boy understand."
The air pulsed with something unseen.
"For soon, he will know."
The next night, the rebels gathered in the ruined temple beneath Evernight.
The Catacombs had always been a sanctuary, a place where the last remnants of resistance could breathe—but now, there was an energy in the air.
Restlessness. Fear. Expectation.
Caius stood before them, Selene at his side, Elias a step behind.
Torches flickered, casting their shadows against the crumbling stone walls. Dozens of eyes were on him—some filled with trust, others with doubt.
But all of them were waiting for a leader.
Caius's pulse pounded.
The words he spoke now would decide everything.
He took a slow breath.
"The Hollow King moves," he said, voice steady. "He knows we've grown stronger. He knows we're not just running anymore—we're fighting."
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
"But we are not ready." His voice rose. "Not yet. And if we strike too soon, if we challenge him before the moment is right—we lose. We lose everything."
A silence settled over them.
Caius continued, "That's why I went into the Veil. To find what we need to end this war."
Selene tensed beside him. She didn't know what he was about to say. Neither did Elias.
Because Caius hadn't told them the real reason yet.
Not the throne. Not the visions of himself.
But what he had felt in that other place.
A presence. A weapon.
Something that could kill the Hollow King.
He met their gazes, his own resolve solidifying.
"There is something older than the Hollow King's rule," he said. "Something hidden beneath the surface of time itself."
Elias narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about?"
Caius let the weight of his next words settle.
"A power." He let the silence stretch. "One that even he fears."
The gathered rebels stiffened.
Selene exhaled sharply. "Caius—"
"I know it sounds impossible," he cut in. "But I've seen it. And I'm going to find it."
A heartbeat.
Then another.
Then, a voice from the crowd—one of the older rebels, a scarred man who had lost his entire family to the Hollow King's reign.
"What if you're wrong?"
Caius met his gaze.
"I'm not."
A dangerous answer.
A reckless one.
But he couldn't afford to waver.
Because deep inside, beneath all the fear, beneath the warnings and the weight of what he had seen—
He knew.
The Hollow King was strong.
But even he was afraid of what lay beyond time's veil.
And Caius would find it.
Or he would become the very thing he sought to destroy.