Chapter Twenty-One: The Trigger and the Choice
Silence fell after the temple's collapse, thick and oppressive as smoke. Only the wind remained, moaning through the jagged peaks like a grieving spirit.
Elliott lay sprawled among the ruins, shards of broken stone digging into his side. His head throbbed, his heart pounded, and the relic burned against his chest with a searing, unnatural heat. It pulsed not like an artifact—but like a living thing. Hungry. Expectant.
Around him, the world slowly reassembled itself. Dust settled. The fractured summit came into focus.
Dorian staggered to his feet, bleeding from a gash along his temple. Seraphine hauled herself from the rubble, face streaked with dirt, eyes sharp as ever. Elric coughed nearby, buried under a mildly judgmental pile of enchanted scrolls. Marlow… Marlow sat slumped against a pillar, her expression hollow, shoulders sagging beneath the weight of regret.
The Hollow King was gone.
But his words remained.
"You're not its bearer. You're its trigger."
The relic pulsed again—five shards, fully assembled now, glowing with dangerous brilliance.
Elliott pushed himself upright, palms trembling.
"What… what does that mean?" he managed, voice hoarse.
Seraphine dusted herself off, expression tight. "I'm guessing nothing good."
The Relic Reveals Its Truth
They regrouped beside what remained of the temple, the sky above them a swirling canvas of storm clouds and fractured sunlight. The relic hovered in the air now, floating between Elliott's hands, spinning gently like a golden, malevolent coin.
"Five shards united," Marlow whispered. "It's… it's complete."
"But if it's a weapon," Dorian asked grimly, "what exactly is it supposed to do?"
Elric, pale and shaken, knelt beside them, flipping through a charred, ancient text that had survived the collapse by some miracle.
"I think I found it," he muttered, pointing to an illustration. "The Relic of Loria wasn't created to protect the world. It was built during the War of Sundering… as a final failsafe."
"A failsafe for what?" Elliott asked.
"To erase everything," Elric answered, voice cracking. "The gods feared the war would spiral beyond control. So they made the relic. One bearer. One choice. Activate it… and existence ends."
A cold, sick silence followed.
The Weight of the World
Elliott stared at the relic, his pulse racing in his ears.
Destroy everything. Start over. End pain, suffering… life.
The relic pulsed again, its magic humming with quiet promise. The power to end it all—right there, in his hands.
"You've got to be kidding," Seraphine muttered, rubbing her eyes. "We've been hauling this apocalypse grenade across the realm like idiots?"
Marlow shook her head, face pale. "The Hollow King… he never wanted to use it to remake the world. He wanted to tear it apart."
"Same result, different flavor," Dorian growled.
Elliott's hands shook.
"And now it's up to me," he said softly. "I decide… whether the world lives or dies."
No one spoke for a moment.
Finally, Elric—awkward, anxious, usually sarcastic—placed a hand on Elliott's shoulder.
"We don't decide that alone," he said quietly. "You're not alone."
The Hollow King's Offer
A voice drifted across the summit, smooth as oil, sharp as broken glass.
"Very moving."
The Hollow King reappeared, stepping from the shadows like smoke given form. His cracked porcelain mask gleamed faintly in the gloom.
Elliott instinctively raised the relic, but the Hollow King only smiled.
"I'm not here to fight. Not yet."
Dorian, sword half-drawn, snarled. "Then leave."
The Hollow King ignored him, eyes fixed on Elliott.
"You understand now," he said softly. "The truth. The weight. The beauty of it."
Elliott's grip tightened on the relic.
"You want me to destroy everything."
"I want you to end the suffering," the Hollow King corrected. "Look around you. War. Greed. Monsters. Loss." His voice darkened. "Your past… your family… your guilt."
Elliott flinched.
"With one choice," the Hollow King continued, "you can silence it all. No more pain. No more mistakes. Peace… through oblivion."
The Choice Deferred
Elliott's mind spun, memories crashing like waves.
His village. His brother. The night everything burned.
The weight of the relic. The faces of his friends. Their trust… fractured, but still present.
He straightened slowly, meeting the Hollow King's gaze.
"No," Elliott said.
The Hollow King tilted his head. "No?"
"I won't destroy the world," Elliott said firmly. "Not today."
A faint smirk curled beneath the mask. "Then prepare to suffer a while longer."
With that, the Hollow King dissolved into mist.
Aftermath and Uncertainty
The group stood in silence as the last traces of darkness faded.
Elliott lowered the relic, heart still hammering in his chest.
"So… we have the ultimate weapon of mass destruction," Seraphine summarized. "Our enemies know it. Our allies… questionable. Our mental stability… rapidly declining."
"Sounds about right," Elric muttered.
Dorian clapped a hand on Elliott's shoulder, solid and steady.
"We'll figure it out," the warrior promised. "Together."
Marlow, hesitant, met Elliott's gaze.
"Do you trust me… even a little?"
Elliott's reply was quiet but honest.
"I don't know."
And that would have to be enough—for now.
Above them, the clouds parted, revealing a sliver of sunlight.
One choice made.
Many more to come.