Pain.
The burning pain of the infection filled every part of their body. Once they had started to absorb the noxious clouds of orange from the defeated Hollow Knight, they found themselves unable to stop. But this didn't matter to them. They had known fully well that this would be the outcome, if they chose to pursue defeating the Hollow Knight.
They had known what the outcome would be, and they had welcomed it. So why did they feel such overwhelming dread? As if doing this was wrong, as if doing this wasn't what they were supposed to do. Every bodily instinct in the Knight screamed at them to stop. They wanted to stop, before it was too late. To stop before they regretted it.
'Can't.' The Knight thought harshly, as if berating themself. The only thing that had kept them from turning back before the battle were their newly acquired thoughts. The thoughts that told them that this was how their quest was meant to end anyway. The thoughts that told them that they should be happy to have been given this third chance at completing their quest.
The Radiance inside of the Hollow Knight screamed. Chains broke around them. The sickly orange of the infection filled their vision.
It was all happening the same.
'The same?'
The Knight shuddered. They hadn't even thought about it, but everything was the same. The Hollow Knight attacked them in the same exact ways as the last two times. The Hollow Knight began stabbing themself to get rid of the infection, in the exact same manner as the last two times.
So wouldn't it make sense if they were just going to be sent back?
Just like the last two times?
'Pointless.' The Knight thought. They shudder again. Newly formed chains wrapped around their body.
"Ah, little ghost. I was thinking about your situation when you startled me."
'Again?'
The Knight shook their head and stands up from the bench. There was that pulling, again. It was stronger this time, somehow. They could almost physically feel the Hollow Knight calling them, beckoning. It felt like their soul was being tugged. They could hear Hornet saying something, but it seemed far away, unimportant.
It was a fluke. It had to be. They were just getting unlucky, that's all. Maybe if they were to do it again, whatever was sending them back would stop. The Knight started towards the well again, nodding to themselves. It made sense. It made perfect sense. It was good, good to go to the temple again. They had to ease the pulling somehow, right? Scratch that itch?
Unlucky, that was all. Just unlucky. And when the Knight went over to the Hollow Knight's Chamber and fought them again, and when they started absorbing the infection again, and when they woke up on the bench again, well, they just got unlucky. Again.
"Ah, little ghost. I was thinking about your situation when you startled me."
The Knight jumped down from the bench again. Their head was spinning. Or maybe it wasn't luck. Perhaps they were doing something wrong. Should they try to wait a little before absorbing the infection? Try to defeat the Hollow Knight without being hit once? Fight without any charms? Without any spells? Yes, yes, that made sense. They should try that. For sure, this time, they would succeed. They would end their quest. The end was so close that they could taste it.
Something bubbled within the Knight as they walked to the well again. It felt as if their head was screaming. That pull was still there, still there and still itching and it was even worse. They felt like their shade was being split apart, and everything was cold, cold with foreboding and anxiety. They didn't know why. They just soldiered forward, trying to ignore the feelings they had and the thoughts they had because they weren't supposed to have them.
Just finish the quest. 'Please,' The Knight thought, as they ignored their thoughts. They just wanted to finish the quest. The lure now was so strong that it was insane. Everything moved so quickly, the Knight could only look around and watch with some sort of sick amazement. Since when did time go by so quickly?
Have they reached the temple yet?
They ran a few steps, stopped, then ran again, and then stopped once more. Their entire body felt like it was vibrating intensely and they didn't know why. The Black Egg was calling their name, shouting it. Their non-existent name, it was being screamed by the temple. Their nail, sheathed and strapped to their back felt hot, almost burning.
Then the Hollow Knight appeared in front of them, and suddenly they were absorbing the infection again. Then the scene flickered out of existence and the Knight was back on the bench, next to Hornet. They jumped down and tried to go to the well, but lights flashed in their eyes and suddenly they found themselves inside of the temple again, fighting the Hollow Knight. It all escalated far too much and the Knight was tired and excited and angry and happy and sad and confused all at the same time and the world just spun and spun and spun and spun.
It spun and then stopped, and the Knight was back, back in the bench at Dirtmouth with Hornet right there and Elderbug behind her and that was just too much for them to handle.
"Ah, little ghost. I was thinking about your situation when you startled me."
The Knight turned to look at her. Then, with no warning, black tears began to pour out of their mask. Hornet stares at them for a moment, completely caught off guard. Their body began to tremble and as more liquid void began to drip over their mothwing cape, Hornet suddenly found herself beginning to panic. It was a disconcerting sight, to say the least.
"Little Ghost! Are you injured? What happened?!" She stood up from the bench.
"Oh my. Did something happen to them?"
Hornet jumped as she heard a voice come from behind her. She whirls around to find that it was just Elderbug, staring at the vessel with a mixture of apprehension and worry; In his silence, she had entirely forgotten that he was there.
'Again. Againagainagain. All the same. Again.'
She huffed and glared at him. "Do you always just stand there for the entire day? Don't you have a house or something?"
'Again.'
"I do, but…"
Elderbug trailed off into silence as the Knight got up from the bench. Void had begun to pool around their feet. They could feel themselves falling apart, and the disgusted dread the sensation brought them only worsened their condition. That, on top of their distress and confusion made them feel like they were being dipped into a pool of hysteria. Time seemed to be moving entirely too quickly, and the Knight found themselves unable to form a coherent thought.
The only thing they could think of was the word 'again.'
"Oh, no. No, no, no." Hornet kneel eddown to take a better look at the Knight. They hadn't looked this bad even after their battle at Kingdom's Edge, where she had landed several devastating blows. She brought her hands to their body and began feeling around for wounds - punctures, slashes, embedded objects, or anything else. "Ghost, you are able to heal yourself with soul, correct? If I bring you to a hot spring, do you think that you could-"
They began shaking their head. A fleck of void splattered onto Hornet's mask, and she felt her heart twist. "You can't? You mean to tell me you can't heal yourself?"
They looked at her, viscous tears seeping out from their mask. Why couldn't they tell her? Tell her that their quest was doomed to fail? That everything was happening over and over again? That they had killed so many on their road to the end? That none of it mattered?
Their journey here had only brought pain and suffering. Hell, even sharing their experiences with her made her sick. It was like they were cursed.
"I can't find where your wounds are." Hornet muttered. "It's pretty obvious you're pretty injured though. I'll-"
They shook their head again, this time more frantically.
"... You're not injured?" Hornet blinked. "Then, what?"
The Hollow Knights, all crumpled. Hundreds of them.
The Knights, absorbing the infection.
Screaming. So many voices, crying out in unison. It was a cacophony straight from hell.
Hornet recoiled as these brief images flash in her mind. Her hand pulls away from their body cold and damp.
"A-Ah. Ghost? What… was that?" Hornet asked, horrified. "Ghost, why would you… I saw so many of them. Did you… Did you fight the Hollow Knight again?"
They nodded meekly. At that one, singular moment, Hornet felt more pity than she had ever felt in her entire life. Her sibling just looked so lost, so frightened, so hurt, that she couldn't help but feel her heart tug in her chest.
"And… Oh god, how many times? You fought them however many times, and, and you… You woke up here, didn't you… Little Ghost..." Without even thinking about it, she pulled the vessel into a close hug. The two stayed like that for some time, until eventually, the Knight's trembling stilled, and they stopped leaking void. The only sign of their grief that was left were two almost imperceptible black stains beneath the sockets of their mask.
Hornet slowly broke off their embrace. She looked down at herself and sighed inwardly at the black marks on her dress. "Do you feel better, little Ghost?"
The Knight nodded and sat back down on the bench. They put a hand up to their mask and appeared to sigh. Hornet sat back down with them and stared down at them for a second.
"How many times?"
…
They shrugged.
"Well, it would be fair to say that trying to fight the Hollow Knight again wouldn't accomplish much. I do have to wonder why you tried to fight them so many times."
The Knight shuddered. They could still feel the lure coming from the temple. It whispered to them, telling them to enter its chambers once more, and replace the Hollow Knight. But they wouldn't. Not anymore. They could only wonder why it seemed like they were cursed to never finish this journey. It was maddening, to have the finish line right in front of them, but always held just out of reach.
What explanation was there? The Radiance? Some sort of magical seal made by the Pale King? The Knight had no idea. And judging by the silence coming from Hornet, she didn't have any idea either.
They closed their eyes and tried to think. But minutes passed, and their mind was still blank. They wished that there was someone who could help them. Someone who was smart enough to possibly hold some sort of answer to their puzzle.
'I wish Quirrel was here… He was smart… A scholar...' The Knight thought wistfully. The last time they had seen them, it was almost right after defeating Uumuu and killing Monomon. They had found him sitting at the Blue Lake, nail by his side. They talked, they left, he stayed.
And then he was gone.
He left his nail behind too, stuck on the sands. The Knight remembered that once, he had mentioned that travelling Hallownest without a nail meant certain death.
'Why, Quirrel?'
They could remember it more clearly now - before killing Monomon, they had woken up in the Resting Grounds and was given the dream nail. Shortly after that, they managed to stumble upon the Teacher's Archive while wandering. They met with Quirrel outside, went in, and… everything else happened.
The Resting Grounds. They rested at the bench there, didn't they? They wondered why this detail suddenly jumped out at them. It was almost like their mind was being pulled towards specific memories. After getting the dream nail, they collected essence from the spirit tree. Then they left through the stag station there, but first, they sat down at the bench and rested for a bit.
'Strange.' The Knight thought. The image of them resting at the bench seemed very vivid now, almost as if they were looking at a picture.
Then the picture moved, and an image of the Hallownest seal, complete with the King's brand and crest, flashed in their eyes. The wind stopped blowing. The air got much colder, and the bench they were sitting on grew colder as well.
The Knight opened their eyes and looked to their right, where Hornet was sitting only a minute ago.
She was gone.
On the blue tiled ground, there was a glowing piece of paper with an image of a familiar pair of glasses on it, and an open doorway. They looked to their left and saw a bell along with the giant door that accompanied every stag station. Various bells and dreamcatchers littered the ceiling, and faint imprints of ghosts and spirits hovered in the air.
They were in the Resting Grounds.