The journey to the Listening Stones began with urgency and ended with silence.

Not the peaceful kind.

The kind that made Atlas feel like the forest was holding something back from him.

Elion moved quickly, her steps sharp and precise as she guided him through the trees. She didn’t speak for several minutes, as if any sound might draw the Hollow King closer. Atlas followed, trying to keep his breathing steady, but the pendant thudded against his chest like a frantic heartbeat.

The forest thickened the farther they walked. The trees grew taller, older, their trunks twisted like frozen waves. The air felt heavy, humming with an energy Atlas didn’t recognize.

After nearly an hour of fast-paced hiking, Elion stopped at the base of a steep ridge.

“We climb,” she said.

Atlas looked up at the jagged stone. “Are the Listening Stones up there?”

“They’re not just up there,” she replied. “They’re above there.”

Atlas frowned. “I don’t get it.”

“You will.”

She climbed first, moving with the skill of someone who had done this a hundred times. Atlas followed more clumsily, slipping once before catching himself. The pendant swung against his chest, glowing faintly as though reacting to the height… or what waited above.

By the time they reached the top, he was breathless.

And then he saw them.

A wide plateau opened before them — flat, circular, and impossibly smooth, as if carved by giants. At the center stood six enormous stone monoliths arranged in a perfect ring.

Each stone was the height of a small house, with carved grooves running down their sides like ancient veins. Pale symbols flickered faintly across their surfaces, glowing white for a moment before fading again.

Atlas stared, mesmerized.

“What… are they?”

Elion stepped forward, touching one of the stones softly.

“Memories,” she said. “Left behind by the first Keepers. These stones can hear echoes across realms. And tonight… they will let us hear what the Watcher meant to show you.”

Atlas’s stomach twisted. “The message.”

“Yes.”

Elion motioned for him to step into the center of the circle. Atlas hesitated.

“What do I do?”

“Stand still,” she instructed. “And don’t panic.”

Atlas winced.

“Why do you always say ‘don’t panic’ before something terrifying happens?”

“Because it helps if you at least attempt to listen,” Elion said calmly. “Now— breathe.”

Atlas stepped into the center.

The air grew colder.

The stones brightened.

And then—

A soft hum rose from the ground beneath his feet. Not threatening, but powerful. Atlas felt the vibrations travel up his legs, through his spine, until his entire body buzzed with the same frequency as the stones.

The symbols on the monoliths lit up in unison.

The plateau darkened.

And suddenly, the forest around them disappeared.

Atlas gasped. “Elion—?!”

“I’m here,” her voice echoed beside him, although he couldn’t see her. “This is only the stones revealing what the Watcher saw.”

The plateau faded into shifting mist.

And a new image formed.

A massive shadow realm — vast, cold, and hollow.

Atlas felt small as he stared across it. Endless plains of darkness, rivers of mist, towers built from crumbling shadow. The air was silent. Too silent.

Then the mist parted.

A massive throne rose from the shadowed ground — twisting, flickering, almost alive.

Empty.

Atlas’s chest tightened.

“That’s the Hollow King’s throne.”

“Yes,” Elion said softly.

The vision zoomed closer, revealing the throne carved from dark stone. As Atlas watched, cracks of pale light pulsed underneath it — a heartbeat that didn’t belong to any living creature.

The scene shifted violently.

Suddenly, he saw a different image:

A figure standing alone on a cliff. Small. Young. A child.

Atlas’s breath hitched.

“Elion… who is that?”

The figure was too far away to see clearly, but Atlas saw a faint glimmer around their neck — a pendant glowing the same color as his.

The first chosen.

The one Elion told him about.

Atlas felt cold.

“What happened to them? Why is the Watcher showing me this?”

Before Elion could answer, the vision darkened.

A ripple spread across the realm.

And something enormous — a presence, not a person — moved through the shadows with silent authority.

The Hollow King.

Even without seeing a face, Atlas knew. The Watcher had seen him. Felt him. And the Stones were letting Atlas feel it too.

A whisper echoed across the vision, deep and ancient:

“Awakened bearer…”

Atlas shivered violently.

A shape began to form above the throne — not complete, not whole, but unmistakably powerful. Tendrils of darkness curled outward. A crown that floated above empty space. Eyes glowing like distant stars.

The Hollow King raised a hand.

The small child standing on the cliff turned—

—and vanished in a flash of darkness.

Atlas stumbled backward, heart pounding.

“No— no— did he just—?”

The vision shattered.

The plateau returned.

The forest reappeared.

Atlas gasped for breath, shaking. He clutched the pendant so tightly it dug into his skin.

“Elion… he took them.”

Elion’s face was grim. “Yes.”

“Why did the Watcher show me that?”

“To warn you.”

Atlas’s voice cracked. “Warn me of what?! That he’ll do the same to me?!”

Elion stepped close, gripping Atlas’s shoulders firmly.

“No. Warn you that the Hollow King is trying again. That he senses the relic awakening. And that he believes he can bend you the way he bent the last.”

Atlas looked away.

“He won’t. I won’t let him.”

“Good,” Elion said. “Because you are not that child. And this time, the relic chose better.”

Atlas forced himself to breathe. His heartbeat slowed.

But before he could speak again—

A deep tremor shook the ground beneath them.

Then another.

Elion’s eyes snapped to the forest below the ridge. “No… It’s too soon.”

Atlas swallowed.

“What is?”

A distant roar echoed across the valley — low, vibrating, ancient.

Elion took a step back from the Listening Stones, staff glowing.

“The Hollow King’s shadows breach the barrier.”

Atlas’s blood ran cold.

“They’re here?”

“Worse,” Elion whispered, eyes narrowing. “They’re multiplying.”

Atlas’s pendant flared, hot as fire.

And the voice inside whispered:

“He is coming.”