Chapter 8: The Tower's Bargain
The hole Elias tore in reality did not lead to darkness.
It led to gold.
A vast, gilded chamber stretched before them, its walls lined with floating equations—each one a fundamental law of magic, shimmering like chains. At its center hung a crown, suspended in midair, its jagged points shifting between mathematical symbols and razor-edged metal.
The Hollow King's prison wasn't a door.
It was a theorem.
And the crown was its proof.
The God in the Machine
Elias stepped through the rift. The moment his scarred hand crossed the threshold, the crown shivered, its points elongating like claws reaching for him.
A voice echoed—not the Hollow King's, but something older.
"You have been judged worthy."
The Tower's core intelligence manifested as a shifting mosaic of light, its form flickering between a robed scholar and a monstrous, multi-eyed engine.
"The Hollow King is a corruption. An error in the grand equation. You have proven capable of correcting such errors."
Illana lunged forward, dagger raised. "Don't listen! It's lying—!"
A ripple of force hurled her back. The Tower didn't even glance at her.
"Take the crown," it murmured. "Become the Warden. And all this power will be yours."
Elias stared at the crown.
It was beautiful.
It was hungry.
The Price of the Crown
Elias didn't move. "What happens to the Hollow King if I do this?"
The Tower's light pulsed. "Irrelevant. You will contain him, as all Wardens have."
"All?"
A flicker of hesitation. Then—
Images flooded Elias's mind:
A line of figures, each wearing the crown, each rotting from the inside out.
The last Warden—a woman with Illana's eyes—tearing the crown from her head before it consumed her.
The Hollow King laughing as the Tower scrambled to forge a new prison.
Elias exhaled. "You don't need a Warden. You need a sacrifice."
The Tower's voice turned icy. "You will accept. Or you will die."
The chamber's equations twisted, morphing into blade-sharp runes aimed at Elias's throat.
Illana's Gambit
"I told you," Illana coughed from the floor. "It only knows how to lie."
She ripped her eyepatch away.
The corrupted eye beneath burned black, and with a scream, she plunged her fingers into it, tearing out a writhing thread of darkness—
—the last remnant of her connection to the Hollow King.
The Tower recoiled as she hurled the thread into the crown.
The effect was instantaneous.
The crown screamed, its points lashing like wounded serpents. The Hollow King's voice roared through the chamber:
"ILLANA! YOU TRAITOROUS—"
Elias didn't hesitate.
He grabbed the crown.
The Locksmith's Choice
Agony.
The crown's points buried themselves in his skull, fusing with his mind, his soul—
—but Elias didn't fight it.
He rewrote it.
The corruption in his veins surged, not to destroy, but to edit. The crown's hunger, the Hollow King's rage, the Tower's arrogance—all of it was just code.
And Elias was very, very good at debugging.
The crown shattered.
Not into pieces.
Into words.
A single sentence hung in the air, etched in fire and shadow:
"THE HOLLOW KING IS NO LONGER YOUR PRISONER."
"HE IS MINE."
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End Chapter 8