The Echospire stood like a broken tooth in the decayed skyline.
Once a proud monument of glass and steel, the twisted remnants of the tower leaned at a sickening angle, half-swallowed by the street it had fallen into. Roots and rust curled through shattered floors, and time had gnawed away at its elegance until only ruin remained.
But it breathed with something ancient now. Something alive.
Ezra stood at the edge of a crumbled overpass overlooking the tower's cracked upper floors—now functioning as its entrance. The dungeon gates, invisible to the unawakened, shimmered faintly like a ripple in glass. He could feel it pulsing in the pit of his stomach.
A hollow thrum.
A call.
Kael exhaled beside him. "Midtown's gotten even worse. No military presence, barely any scavs, and the radiation levels are creeping up again."
Ezra didn't respond. His attention was locked on the figures approaching from the north. Shadowy movement through the fog, gear glinting in the morning sun. They weren't trying to hide. Which meant they didn't care if anyone else was here.
"Three squads," Kael muttered, tightening her gloves. "That's not good."
"Which faction?"
"Red Flag." She grimaced. "Mercenaries. Rankers for hire. Ruthless. They raid unclaimed dungeons, steal loot, kill survivors, and sell anything valuable to the highest bidder."
Ezra's expression darkened.
Kael handed him a small, cracked tablet. "Scanned one of their frequency markers earlier. They've got a B-rank on-site, maybe two C's. The rest are grunts."
"I assume diplomacy's not an option?"
"They shoot first. Then raise what's left."
Ezra tilted his head. "Necromancers?"
"Some. Not like you." She glanced at his undead standing still as statues behind them. "They don't command their dead. They farm them."
Ezra's eyes hardened.
He turned to his soldiers—ten undead, each subtly changed since fusing with the Hollow Core. They wore armor of scavenged bone and metal, sigils carved into their bodies, their movements too precise to be mindless.
He pointed toward the spire.
"We're going in before them."
Kael arched a brow. "Through the main floor?"
"No." Ezra's voice was calm. "They'll expect that. We take the collapse route—enter from the bottom through the fault in the sewer grid. I felt the layout when we approached. The spire didn't fall randomly. Something pulled it down. There's a chamber below."
Kael didn't argue. "And the Red Flag?"
Ezra gave a thin smile.
"They'll follow. Let them."
The descent into the ruins was swift but treacherous.
Twisting steel beams jutted from walls like skeletal ribs. The tunnel below the spire reeked of wet stone, oil, and death. Ezra's undead moved ahead, scouting and clearing, crushing smaller monsters or absorbing attacks meant for him and Kael.
The deeper they went, the colder it became.
Not temperature-wise. Spiritually.
Ezra felt it on his skin—like a thousand unseen eyes watching, waiting.
Kael whispered behind him. "This place has been touched."
"Tainted?"
"No. Chosen." Her voice was tight. "It's not just a dungeon. It's a shrine."
Ezra nodded. "Then let's not offend the gods."
[You have entered: Sanctum of Hollow Memory][New Quest Activated: The Crown Below]Objective: Discover the origin of the HollowbornReward: ???Warning: High-risk event—factional incursion detected
The sanctum opened before them like the ribcage of a dying beast.
Massive vaulted ceilings stretched above their heads, carved from obsidian and etched with silver veins. Sarcophagi lined the walls—dozens of them, some cracked open, others sealed with symbols that hurt the eyes to look at.
The air buzzed with potential.
And the Core was close.
Ezra could feel it singing in his bones, in the black veins that still pulsed under his skin. Every step brought a wave of something between nostalgia and dread.
Ash growled suddenly.
Kael stopped walking. "Behind us."
Boots.
Weapons.
Radio clicks.
And then—
"Ezra Vale," came a voice, smooth and condescending. "Been looking for you."
Ezra turned.
From the shadows of the corridor behind them emerged a man in dark red combat armor, one side of his face covered by a digital mask.
The Red Flag B-ranker.
Behind him were nine more—heavily armed mercs with standard-issue firearms and glowing gear, their ranks visible via scan: three C-ranks, five D's, one E.
But it wasn't the man's rank that made Ezra's stomach twist.
It was his eyes.
Dead.
Flat.
Lifeless.
Yet aware.
Necromancer.
The man bowed mockingly. "I'm Marshal Vren. I've been hired to kill you. Or, if I'm feeling generous, recruit you."
Ezra's grip tightened around his glaive. "Not in the mood to be generous."
Vren chuckled. "Neither am I."
He snapped his fingers.
[Red Flag Necromancer: Marshal Vren has activated "Corpse Chain"][Warning: Undead interference detected. Opponent attempting to override local summons.]
Ezra's soldiers twitched violently.
Their bodies spasmed, runes flaring.
Kael shouted, "He's trying to take control!"
Ezra dropped to one knee, pressing his palm to the cold ground. He reached deep—past pain, past fear—into that yawning hollow space within him. The place the Core lived.
[Hollow Core Connection: Reactivating…][Override Detected: Negating External Control…][Result: Dominance Achieved.][Trait Gained: Grave King's Sigil – Your undead can no longer be hijacked.]
A burst of black mist erupted from Ezra's soldiers.
The runes carved into their bones flared white-hot, then burned away Vren's influence like acid.
Vren staggered. "What—?"
Ezra rose.
His eyes now blazed with abyssal light.
"You want undead?" he whispered. "Then let me show you what mine can do."
He pointed forward.
His ten rose with unnatural grace, silent and terrible. One of them, an armored knight missing half its skull, charged like a battering ram—shoulder-checking one of the C-ranks so hard the man cracked the wall and slumped without a sound.
Kael was already moving.
She ducked low and drove her dagger under another merc's chin, spun, and kicked the E-rank into the jaws of a skeletal beast that leapt from the shadows—a creature Ezra had not summoned.
He blinked.
[Wild Hollowborn Spawn Detected][Classification: Rogue Wight][Reason: Drawn to Core Signature]Status: Non-Hostile (for now)
Ezra realized with a jolt that other undead were being drawn here.
They came not as enemies…
…but as supplicants.
He felt their hunger. Their instinct.
Their worship.
Hollowborn.
Marshal Vren roared and unleashed a barrage of spectral chains, trying to bind Ezra's legs. One wrapped around his ankle.
Ezra growled, then snapped it with a surge of necrotic energy.
"I don't need to steal undead," he snarled. "I create them."
With a roar, Ezra charged.
The glaive sang through the air.
Vren raised his hand, summoning a wall of bone—but Ezra's swing shattered it, the [Soul Rend] effect activating. A ripple of dark energy tore through Vren's side, sending him reeling.
Another of Ezra's undead impaled a Red Flag soldier and dragged his body into the shadows.
Screams. Gunfire. Blood.
The battle was fast.
Brutal.
And Ezra never let up.
Minutes later, silence returned.
Red Flag was gone—dead or fled.
The remaining Hollowborn Spawn lingered on the edges of the chamber, watching Ezra in silence.
Kael leaned on a cracked pillar, blood running down her arm. "You alright?"
Ezra nodded, breath heavy. "I'm fine."
She gave him a look. "Liar."
Ezra looked down at his hands. The veins were darker now. The Core had taken in more power. He could feel it growing.
And still... the final chamber waited.
He stepped forward.
The altar was simple: a cracked dais, and atop it, a crown made of bone and ash. It pulsed with energy—not evil, not righteous, just old.
He reached out.
[Relic Acquired: Crown of the First Hollow]Description: Worn by the first necromancer to bind will and strength into undeath. Grants undead evolution potential.Effect: Unlocks Tier 2 Evolution Path for Summons.Effect: Adds "Voice of the Hollow" passive – Your undead retain fragments of memory and identity.
Ezra felt it settle on his head—not physically, but spiritually.
A weight. A mantle.
The room shifted.
The spawn bowed.
The undead knelt.
Even Kael, just for a moment, hesitated.
Ezra stood in silence, eyes burning with something no longer entirely human.
And in that quiet, a message appeared.
[You have accepted the Crown.][You are now recognized as "The Grave Sovereign."][The Hollowborn Path continues…]