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The screeching had gone quiet for the first time in years. Delicious, peaceful nothingness reigned as the blinding light in their mind dimmed, and midnight silence took its place. Where did she go? The Vessel opened its eyes, scanning the dim room for any sign that Father had at last come to save them from the Radiance—or had at least remembered them. Instead of Father’s depthless black eyes beaming at them with pride, a small, broken mask lay before them. It had two horns on its head, reminding them of the sibling they had left to fall to their death. Was this theirs? The floor of the temple shook, snapping the Vessel out of their musings. An inky black liquid seeped in through the sealed entryway, and they grabbed their nail, ready to battle what awaited them. Though battered and dull, the blade had stood with them through the ages. An ear-splitting shriek ripped through the room. The door blasted off its hinges, ricocheting off the ground like a plaything subjected to a child’s wrath. Void tendrils rushed into the Vessel’s prison, and they felt their grip on the weapon relax, as if even their body refused to struggle against the darkness. Had this creature destroyed the Old Light? What possessed such power? As if in response, the eldritch being sent a tendril to smash the roof in. Debris rained on the Vessel as it gazed into the eyes of a new god.
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A colossal, living shadow stood before the Vessel. It was a sight that would’ve stolen their breath away, had they possessed lungs. The deity had ebony spikes along their body, as well as eight luminous white eyes, brimming with knowledge long forgotten by beast and bug. The Vessel stepped out of the temple that had imprisoned them for centuries. Sight of the Pure Vessel drew a deep, rumbling growl from the creature that reverberated inside the knight’s skull. As this god of Void began its ascent up the chasm, the Vessel followed behind them, still reeling. They should have been flawless like that for Father… maybe then he wouldn’t have sealed them away. For what seemed like an eternity they had fretted over what might have gone wrong with Father, but they understood now. The Pale King had wanted to act as the god of Hallownest, and he killed his own children in a futile hope to escape fate set in stone. But now, as they gazed up at the all-powerful being of darkness and salvation—who was hurling lonely houses out of their path like pebbles—a king of gods had come to assume the role Father attempted to fill.
