Chapter 21 The Hollow Gods
The buried city should not have existed. That truth haunted everyone who entered it. The architecture defied reason. The silence felt alive. Even time itself seemed unstable beneath the sands. And the deeper they descended the older the world became.
The throne room massacre spread terror throughout Baalania within days. Only a handful of Mehmeth’s expedition survived the awakening beneath the abyss: soldiers driven insane, priests clawing scripture into their own flesh and engineers unable to remember their own names.
Many returned blind. Others returned speaking languages no living civilization understood. None slept again.
Yet Mehmeth refused to abandon the buried temples.
Because something below was calling him.
The Sultan expanded the excavation despite mounting casualties. Entire military divisions sealed the surrounding deserts while inferno priests constructed massive obsidian camps above the sinkholes to hide the discovery from the outside world.
Officially, the western front had “paused due to storm conditions.”
In truth both armies feared the desert now. Even Dragun’s scouts stopped approaching the region after entire patrols vanished without traces beneath the dunes.
The war itself had begun avoiding the buried kingdom. Far beneath the earth, Azrakar walked silently through the ancient corridors beside High Priest Za’Rakh and dozens of heavily armed inferno guards.
The deeper chambers no longer resembled ruins. They resembled remains.
Massive walls curved inward unnaturally like gigantic ribcages while black crystal veins pulsed slowly beneath layers of stone. Strange silver liquid dripped endlessly from ceilings despite the total absence of water sources.
And everywhere there were carvings. Thousands upon thousands of them.
Ancient murals stretched across entire chambers depicting impossible scenes: oceans splitting beneath black stars, giant winged figures descending from the heavens, enormous skeletal war machines trampling cities and eyeless gods devouring armies beneath eclipsed moons.
Some carvings moved slightly when not directly observed. Others whispered.
One young soldier stopped before a massive stone mural and frowned.
“…What are those things?”
The carving depicted tall humanoid beings with enormous feathered wings and glowing halos descending from the sky while kneeling humans raised their hands in worship. But the winged figures had no faces. Only smooth empty skin.
Za’Rakh answered quietly:
“False gods.”
But Azrakar wasn’t listening anymore. Because another figure appeared within the mural. A pale man cloaked in shadows standing against the winged beings while bats spiraled above him beneath storm clouds.
The resemblance to Dragun felt impossible. Then they found the chamber of stars. The room was perfectly circular.
Its ceiling resembled a night sky carved entirely from black crystal, filled with constellations no living astronomer recognized. Silver fire burned around the edges of the chamber while enormous stone tablets stood upright across the floor like ancient graves.
Every tablet contained symbols impossible to read. Except for one.
Tenji froze the moment he saw it. The Fairy had accompanied Dragun’s smaller reconnaissance force into the buried city after eastern scouts confirmed Mehmeth’s discovery. Against Zerafin’s objections, Dragun insisted on seeing the ruins personally.
Now the Vampire King watched silently as Tenji approached the ancient tablet slowly. For the first time since anyone had known him the Fairy looked afraid.
His pale fingers touched the symbol carefully.
A circle surrounded by six broken wings. Ancient. Elegant. and Terrifyingly familiar.
Dragun stepped closer.
“You recognize it.”
Tenji said nothing at first.
The storm winds around the chamber weakened unnaturally.
Even the shadow crows perched silently above the ruins.
Finally the Fairy whispered:
“…this should not exist here.”
Father Lucian frowned.
“What is it?”
Tenji stared upward toward the false stars carved into the ceiling.
“A warning.”
The others exchanged uneasy looks.
Zerafin rested one hand on his sword.
“You’re hiding something.”
Tenji remained motionless.
Then slowly turned toward them. And for the first time his calm expression cracked.
“The Sky People were not gods.”
Silence filled the chamber.
Even Mordecai stood still behind Dragun like a statue wrapped in darkness.
Lucian spoke carefully.
“The Sky People… truly existed?”
Tenji nodded once.
“Yes.”
His silver eyes dimmed.
“And they destroyed the world.”
Thunder rumbled faintly far above the buried city.
Tenji walked among the ancient carvings slowly while the others followed in silence.
“These ruins are older than human kingdoms,” he explained softly.
“Older than vampires.”
“Older than Baalania.”
He stopped before another mural depicting enormous winged beings descending from the heavens surrounded by black suns and burning oceans.
“They came from beyond the sky.”
Father Lucian whispered a prayer.
“Angels…”
“No.”
The answer came sharply.
“Not angels.”
Tenji’s voice lowered.
“Wardens.”
The chamber suddenly felt colder.
“The Sky People believed existence itself had become corrupted,” Tenji continued.
“They saw mankind as dangerous.”
“Violent.”
“Unstable.”
His gaze drifted toward the murals showing cities consumed by celestial fire.
“So they decided to purify the world.”
Zerafin frowned.
“You’re saying heaven declared war on humanity?”
Tenji looked at him sadly.
“Humanity fought back.”
Another mural showed armies marching beneath storm clouds and black banners: vampires, humans, giant armored warriors and strange machines built from bone and silver.
And leading them stood a crowned king cloaked in darkness.
Dragun stared at the figure carefully.
The resemblance disturbed him.
Lucian stepped closer to another carving.
“These symbols…”
He touched ancient script surrounding the murals.
“They repeat the same phrase.”
“What phrase?” Zerafin asked.
The priest swallowed slowly.
“THE HOLLOW GODS.”
The silver fires around the chamber flickered violently. Then the whispers returned.
Voices echoed through the buried city from somewhere impossibly deep below: soft, ancient, hungry.
Several soldiers collapsed immediately clutching their heads while blood poured from their noses. One screamed:
“They’re awake!”
The walls began moving. Not metaphorically. The stone itself pulsed like breathing flesh beneath the carvings while black veins spread across the chamber floor. And then the stars above shifted. The constellations carved into the ceiling rearranged themselves slowly into a massive symbol. An eye. Watching them.
Mordecai immediately stepped in front of Dragun.
Shadow armor spread violently across his monstrous frame while crimson eyes glowed brighter within the darkness.
Tenji stared upward in horror.
“No…”
The Fairy’s voice trembled for the first time.
“They found us.”
The chamber shook violently. Far below the buried city something enormous moved beneath the abyss. Not walking. Turning. As though a sleeping god had begun rolling within its grave.
Azrakar’s distant voice echoed from another corridor:
“Father!”
The prince appeared moments later with surviving Baalanian soldiers behind him, weapons raised immediately at the sight of Dragun’s forces. But before either side could attack the buried city screamed. An inhuman sound erupted through every corridor simultaneously: part roar, part whisper, part dying universe.
The walls cracked open. Black liquid flooded across the floors. And from deep beneath the temple abyss gigantic glowing eyes slowly opened in the darkness below. Far too many eyes.
Tenji stepped backward.
Whispering ancient words none of them understood.
Dragun stared at him sharply.
“What is that thing?”
The Fairy looked toward the abyss.
Then answered quietly:
“One of the last Hollow Gods.”
Lightning exploded somewhere far above the desert.
And deep beneath Baalania
something ancient finally awakened completely.
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