Chapter 102 The Hollow Path and the Unraveling
The Void was not a place.
It was a forgetting.
A slow, deliberate erasure of everything that had ever mattered.
And Milo was sinking into it.
I had seen him vanish before—into magic, into memory, into silence. But this was different. This time, he wasn’t just lost.
He was being rewritten.
Knowing the void, I am sure it is in the void’s image.
The Riftheart was quiet.
Too quiet.
The kind of quiet that follows a scream.
Thessa sat with her back against a broken pillar, her blade across her knees, her eyes closed. “He’s not gone,” she said. “Not yet.”
Kael didn’t respond. He was staring at the sky, which had stopped moving.
Zeke was sharpening a broken bolt, his hands trembling.
Yuel was muttering and counting snacks like it was his own personal mission.
Ellira and Lira were silent, their glyphs flickering weakly.
Gerald lay beside them, unmoving.
Quacknor perched on a stone, his feathers dull, his eyes watching the Rift like it might blink.
Talon and Aine stood beside me, her silver flame dimming.
“He’s deeper now,” she said. “Beyond the first veil.”
“I’m going after him,” I said.
“You’ll need more than flame.”
“I have memory.”
The Void opened.
Not with sound.
With absence.
I stepped through.
And the world blinked.
The Hollow Path was the first layer.
A corridor of broken stars and bleeding time.
The walls whispered names I had forgotten.
The floor pulsed with regrets I hadn’t earned.
And ahead—
Milo.
Or what was left of him.
He was walking slowly, his body wrapped in black flame, his eyes dim.
“Milo,” I called.
He didn’t turn.
I ran.
But the path stretched.
The Void didn’t want me to reach him.
I saw fragments.
His childhood.
His first spell.
His first mistake.
His first love.
Me.
And then—
“This is like deja vu, I am sure we have done this before,” I mutter as I continue to seem and experience his memories again.
I shout for Milo, “MILO!” which makes shadow Milo stop and turn, except his eyes are hollow and black, there is nothing there.
The flame surged.
And the memories burned.
“Here we go again,” I mutter.
I reached him.
Touched his shoulder.
He turned.
And for a moment—
He didn’t know me.
“You’re not real,” he said.
“I am.”
“You’re a memory.”
“I’m your memory.”
He blinked.
And the flame flickered.
“I’m not me anymore.”
“We have been through this, Milo. You are still my brother; you are still you.”
He stepped back.
The Void surged.
“How do you keep getting in here?”
“I couldn’t stay away. Plus, the door was open.”
The Hollow Path cracked.
And we fell.
The second layer was the Unravelling.
A place where time forgot how to tick.
Where magic forgot how to breathe.
Where love forgot how to hold.
Milo landed beside me.
He didn’t rise.
I knelt.
“You’re still here, I am still here,” I said.
“I don’t know what that means,” Milo responds in a voice so dark I felt the goosebumps appear.
“It means you haven’t given up.”
He looked at me.
But there was no recognition; he didn’t know me, he didn’t know what or who I was.
But the Void was not done.
It surged.
And he screamed. Clutching his head as the void whispered and taunted thoughts his way.
“Arrrgh!”
“Milo, remember,” I said. “Hold my hand and remember me.”
He reached out.
His fingertips grazed mine, but our hands couldn't grab hold.
A large blast blew us both in opposite directions. I tried to keep track of Milo, but as I was tumbling through the void, it was hard.
One moment, I was up.
Down.
Left.
Right.
Back in the Riftheart, the group felt it.
Thessa collapsed.
Kael screamed.
Zeke clutched his chest.
Yuel’s glyphs shattered.
Ellira and Lira cried and screamed.
Talon collapsed.
Gerald bleated.
Quacknor flew.
Aine burned.
When the tumbling finally stopped, I looked for Milo. As I scanned the space looking for Milo, I started to panic as I couldn’t see him.
“M…Milo,” I called as my voice cracked.
There was no reply.
Stumbling to my feet, I looked while turning this way and that.
“Milo, I am coming,” I called again before settling in the last place I saw him.
But the Void was clever.
By keeping us apart, I wasn’t able to help him.
Honestly, I had to give the void points for effort.
“Milo,” I continued calling as I kept looking for him.
I heard a noise up ahead, like coughing, moving forward, more stumbling than running. I reached the coughing noise. As I bent down, I saw Milo. Dropping to my knees, I reached out my hand for Milo’s.
Then—
The Void screamed.
And the world—
Split.
We were pulled into the third layer.
The Echoing.
A place where every thought became a voice.
Where every fear became a face.
Where every regret became a chain.
Milo was bound.
Not by magic.
By memory.
“I failed,” he said.
“You tried.”
“I hurt you.”
“You saved me.”
“I’m not enough.”
“You’re everything.”
“But I am not.”
The chains cracked.
The voices screamed.
I covered Milo’s ears as the voices screamed louder and louder.
And the Void surged.
I raised my hand.
The Forgotten Flame pulsed.
“Do you think your flame is going to work?” the void mocks
“Yes” I said with certainty
“Virellina took part of your flame. Now I have it so your flame isn’t going to work here.” The void cackles like a deranged villain.
Using my forgotten flame and holding Milo in my heart, I give it my all.
And the Echoing shattered.
We landed in the fourth layer.
The Stillness.
A place where nothing moved.
Where nothing mattered.
Where nothing was.
It was creepy and weird here.
Milo collapsed.
The black flame surged.
He whispered:
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to fight.”
“What? Milo, no!” I screamed as he started to disappear.
“I am sorry, Mo.” Milo mutters
And then—
He vanished.
Again.