Saved Chapter 13, a hollow knight fanfic

*A/N:* There's been quite the gap between updates, which means that there will be some stylistic differences, such as the usage of themself instead of themselves. I'll go back and correct stuff like this so that everything will be consistent, eventually.

REST

Strange, foreign letters hovered above the bench, not unsimilar to the ones the Shade had seen previously in their visions and Lemm's shop. It was one thing to see them carved into rocks though. It was an entirely different experience seeing them float in the air as some sort of hologram, intangible symbols wrapped in lavish decorations. Staring at it, the Shade found in itself a small spark of curious wonder. Yes, it could not be helped; they wanted everything to return to normal, they wanted their body back, they wanted to talk to Quirrel again or see Hornet or just finish their quest once and for all and forget about everything, but…

They also wanted to know what these symbols meant. Were such desires normal for those who were not born from void? Did these beings find themselves staring in the face of unknown threat, and instead of fearing for their lives and cowering, instead find that vicious desire for knowledge? That seemingly unquenchable thirst that grappled with the innate instinct to survive… Only now, it was not alive, was it? No, they were simply a stain on this world, a living regret, as Jiji described. So there was a desire to find out. To find out why.

They turned their gaze at Elderbug, who stood as a sentinel, solid and as stoic as ever right next to the bench. There was a faraway look in his eyes, which when combined with his tightly clasped hands underneath his coat, gave him a sage appearance. Expectedly, he did not react in any way to their presence. Still, it hurt.

But why?

They were starting to feel like a broken record. Curiosity, fear, and that sharp pain that cropped up from time to time, even when they were not physically damaged in any way. What was the purpose in this? Why would one choose to savor these feelings, these feelings that acted as yet another form of vulnerability by exploitation? The novelty of it all had worn its welcome. All it had known since it was cursed with this mind was an overflowing stream of constant agony, of confusion and grief that served only to drown them in sorrows. And… they were overjoyed by this, at first. Or rather, they thought it to be joyful.

To be stuck in a world they had thought to know so well, only to be thrusted a layer deeper, with fresh danger and regrets…

The Shade internally scowled at the layers upon layers of self-contradiction that they found themself in. Such a tricky thing it was, to be able to feel. It was akin to the blind readjusting to having their eyesight miraculously restored, or a cripple from birth learning how to walk for the first time. So many new sensations, some good, some bad, mostly confusing. It was almost at the point of sensory overload, an insurmountable wall in the form of an entirely new stream of thought.

They floated closer to Elderbug, only to flinch backwards as more runes appeared, abruptly popping into existence just above the Elder's head: LISTEN

They stared at the alien-like clutter of symbols for a while, head spinning. The curvature of each rune, transcribed into the air itself and in such pure, white lettering that made them seem as if they were not written, but rather the outlines of reality that were expunged from existence. Something more.

In defiance of themself, they began to float closer towards the runes. Something stirred in their chest, a light, tingling feeling that made them want to cough. The longer they stared at the symbols, the heavier the feeling became, turning into a deep, aching desire for something they could not name. It built up inside of them, this expanding sense of pressure, until finally-

"Feeling tired? That bench may be iron, but I assure you it's quite comfortable. There's no better place to collect your thoughts before heading below. Plus I enjoy the company. Not that you seem the talkative sort."

The Shade jolted, caught by surprise from Elderbug's sudden burst of dialogue. They looked around, only to find Dirtmouth in its usual destitute state, with that constant dry wind and bleak grounds. No one was around, save for themself and Elderbug.

So who is he talking to? The Shade glanced back at Elderbug, who seemed to give no indication that anything was amiss. Though the closer they looked, the more he seemed... off. As if there was something not quite right about the way he just stood there, with that subtle lack of detail and clipped dimensions. Above his head, the very same letters remained: LISTEN

Experimentally, they approached Elderbug once more until that feeling of pressure began to build up in their chest again. They held it, released it, and-

Wrong. Something was so, so terribly wrong. That vague, off-putting sensation started to creep up on them, sending shivers through their form as they floated away from Elderbug. It was unnerving, seeing him talk like that, saying the same things over and over again. It was one thing having him repeat himself whenever they traveled through time, it was another thing entirely having him say the same things one after another like this.

Again.

What's worse, no one was here. No one. Of course, the Shade themself were there, but they were a ghost, practically invisible to the world around them. They felt an absurd, gripping need to grab the elder by his shoulders and give them a firm shake. Couldn't he see? Couldn't he see that he was speaking nonsense to the empty air? Couldn't he notice the repetitive, clipped movements to his stance as he stood there eternally, as stern and unwavering as a tall oak?

It seemed that all at once, everything had become too big for their liking. They had become truly a ghost, forced to haunt this dying kingdom as everything they once knew crumbled under their observations. The somber background music, that lullaby string of piano keys that seemed to exert an aura of calmness and safety, it only seemed to exuberate that settling sense of panic that had become far too common.

Impossible. For that music to be playing right now, there's no one. No one here. No instruments. Nothing. Yet everywhere I go, I can hear it. Playing, playing, constantly. The Shade drifted past the bench and into the well, descending down until he reached the crossroads, where the music changed into something more sinister, a slightly haunting ambiance that gave off a morose sense of danger, as if standing in the wake of a desolate wasteland. And here. Here, it changes. Why? Tell me, just tell me why this is happening. It's all I want. Please.

As they began to ascend back upwards into Dirtmouth, something suddenly caught their eye. Right there, in front of them. There was a strange picture of some kind, barely visible underneath the vicious orange glow of the infection that had since run rampant throughout the crossroads. The longer they stared at it, the clearer it became, until finally, they could see it for what it was.

INFECTED CROSSROADS

There was a strange, manic need within him to start laughing. Throughout their entire existence, they've never felt the need to laugh, ever. They've observed others do it of course, and knew that it was simply a reaction to something humorous. Still, they did not, and could not feel that desire to laugh. Until now, that is. It started as something that began to bubble in their chest, rising up to their mask. There was no joy or humor in the situation, only a madenning sense of confusion that turned their view of the world on its head.

What does it mean? What does it mean what does it mean what does it mean what does it mean what does it MEAN

Before long, the runes vanished into nothing, leaving behind a blank wall that the Shade could only continue staring at, for what else was there to do?

"FIND THE DISCREPANCIES IN OUR WORLD, LITTLE SHADE."

Yes, yes, there was that. If they closed their eyes, they could still hear the echoes of their voices, Jiji's "masters". Was this what they were talking about? Those illegible symbols that kept popping up, the disembodied music, Elderbug repeating himself, were all of these things the so-called discrepancies?

Great. Great, just great, so what do I do, just tell me how do I fix all of this, how do I become normal how do I just get away from everything, please just tell me

It was the lack of consistency, it was the uncertainty of it all. They felt so terribly lost, caught in a world where nothing made sense and where their only goal was unattainable for reasons unknown. Every decision they made was incorrect, every step they took was misplaced, every thought they had was contradictory.

The worst part was that no one could help them. Feeling numb, the Shade traveled back up to the well, though not before noticing the symbols "ASCEND" appear before them. Caught in the moment, they couldn't even be bothered to question it. Because why not? Why wouldn't these symbols start appearing everywhere they looked?

As they arrived back on the surface of Dirtmouth, the Shade found themself approaching the sole bench that stood at the empty town's center. Once again, as they got near, "REST" appeared. Just as with Elderbug, pressure began to build within them as they stared at it. Along with that pressure, exhaustion. They had no body to speak of, and yet, it felt as if their limbs were still there, weighing them down as they went along.

They didn't really mean to do it. It just happened naturally, sort of.

They got closer to the bench and released the pressure within them.

There, at the bottom left corner of their vision, it appeared. The crest of Hallownest

The Shade sat down at the bench. Like a geyser, something erupted from within their mind, sending jolts up their body. A strange, unfamiliar darkness was closing in, threatening to consume them. They tried to hold on, tried to keep themself together but it was too hard. The harder they fought against the shadows, that alien-like force that seemed to take their soul over, the faster they fell. At the back for their mind, they managed to recognize what an odd thing was happening to them. Liquid shadow coursing through their disembodied figure, sapping something from them, it was all too bizarre. It made it harder to fight back, somehow.

The darkness was all around them now, snuffing out the town of Dirtmouth, leaving only the Shade and the glowing bench they sat on. They could feel themself being consumed by it and they screamed. They screamed for help, for someone to save them from the darkness, but there was no one.

Alone, in the darkness, they writhed. Alone, their mind surgically pried open for observation, they suffered.

Alone, in the void in which they did not belong, they waited.

She exited from the game, taking a moment to appreciate her hard work. In just a single day, she had managed to do much, scouring the world of Hallownest and finding a plethora of relics that she was sure she would get a nice amount of geo for. On top of that, she found an old key, having gotten it from that strange miniboss behind the Colosseum of Fools. It was certainly an odd encounter, with most of the fight consisting of the miniboss (apparently named the Pale Lurker) running away, throwing caltrops behind as she jumped from wall to wall. Though she enjoyed most of the game so far, she had to admit that that encounter, along with the fact she had been playing Hollow Knight for several hours straight, was enough to make her a bit tired.

In fact, that was exactly where they left off. As soon as she picked up the key, she simply quit to the main menu and closed down Hollow Knight.

Ah, the wonders of auto-save, she mused as she shut down her computer. It was relatively late; the digital clock on her dresser read 11:23 PM. Having accomplished much progress, she figured that it was about time to wind down and go to bed.

There was plenty of time to play some more tomorrow, after all.