Root didn't sleep.
Not that he could have if he tried.
The glow from his veins hadn't dimmed—not fully—and the echo of the Mawhound's final scream still rang faintly in his ears like a melody he wasn't meant to hear. He sat at the center of the platform in his inner space, legs crossed, eyes open, posture still—like a monk in a cathedral of silence.
Only Veyr broke the peace, spinning slowly in the air above Root with his legs crossed, cup of tea held upside down without spilling.
"You're meditating? Seriously?"
Root didn't respond.
The Hollow Points burned in his mind like coals. He had five left. The martial path was open now. The Dojo existed. The skills were… real. But real didn't mean understood.
"I'm not meditating," Root muttered eventually. "I'm thinking."
"Oh, dangerous. Don't hurt yourself."
Root opened the system panel with a thought.
⸻
[Available Hollow Points: 5]
[Inner Dojo: Temple of Hollow Motion – ACTIVE]
• Shadowstep – Tier 1: 3 Points
• Flowstrike – Tier 1: 2 Points
• Passive: Redirection – Auto-Applies with Martial Style
[Veinbind Node 2: 4 Points]
[Upgrade Reflexes: 1 Point]
[Upgrade Stamina: 1 Point]
⸻
Five points. Not enough to take everything. Not yet.
And the world outside wasn't waiting for him to be ready.
Root sighed. "I'll take Shadowstep and Flowstrike."
A pulse surged from the interface. Heat flushed through his core. The Dojo opened again—and this time, he stepped into it willingly.
The Temple of Hollow Motion unfolded beneath his feet. Still white stone. Still veiled shadows. But this time, it didn't feel alien. It felt like something his body had been waiting for.
The dummy stood again at the center.
Shadowstep activated with a whisper across his skin—his movement blurred, his body flowing like mist. He dashed forward, vanished mid-stride, and reappeared at the dummy's blind side, delivering a controlled palm strike.
Flowstrike followed in a natural chain—his body twisted low, redirected the force, and hammered upward with a palm that sent cracks through the dummy's surface.
He landed, breath steady.
Movement had changed. Not just speed. Not just precision.
Instinct.
It was beginning to feel right.
"You're grinning," Veyr said, arms folded as he floated through the dojo's open skylight like a smug thought bubble. "You know what that means, right?"
"I'm starting to like this," Root said.
"And that's when it gets dangerous."
Root left the dojo and returned to the platform. His Hollow Points were gone—but the fire in his limbs remained. A low, constant hum beneath his skin.
He looked up at Veyr.
"Next quest."
The chibi-summon arched a brow. "Already? You sure you don't want to enjoy the brief illusion of safety a little longer?"
"No."
"Good. Safety is for the irrelevant."
A ping echoed across the space.
⸻
[New Hollow Quest Unlocked]
Quest: Witness of Flame
Objective: Face the Inner Space's Flame-Bound Remnant
Reward: +6 Hollow Points | Unlock Weapon Bond
Penalty: Skill Downgrade – Martial Path Flow Penalty (24 Hours)
Begin? [Y/N]
⸻
Root narrowed his eyes.
"What's a Remnant?"
"Your guilt. Your weakness. Your hesitation. Oh—and also a flaming Hollow spirit with a sword made of molten shame," Veyr said, sipping more tea. "Enjoy."
Root pressed Y.
The platform shook.
The shadows deepened.
And a figure emerged from the far side of the space—slowly, like a statue rising from molten wax. Its head wreathed in fire. A blade of branded metal in one hand. And across its chest—Root's own face burned into its armor, screaming.
"Why do they hate you?" the Remnant asked, voice like smoke dragged across broken bells.
Root didn't answer.
He ran.
Root didn't have time to think.
The Flame-Bound Remnant raised its blade—and the entire space groaned. Fire didn't flicker from it, it bled from it, soaking the air in shimmering heat and pain that wasn't his—but somehow was.
"Why do they hate you?"
The words hadn't left its mouth. Not really. They had entered him. The Remnant's voice bypassed air and struck directly at the chest, each syllable a blow harder to dodge than any sword.
Root moved.
Shadowstep flared—his body blinked from one point to another in a shimmer of smoke, barely dodging the molten swing that tore a canyon into the platform behind him.
Shadowstep cooldown: 4 seconds.
Too slow.
He twisted under the second slash. Flowstrike initiated automatically—his body caught the direction of the Remnant's force and turned it, letting the tip of the blade whistle past his ribs instead of through them.
Root didn't try to attack.
Not yet.
Not when he didn't understand what this thing was.
"Veyr," he muttered, voice low and hoarse as he circled. "What is this really?"
Veyr hovered far off the edge of the platform now, sipping from a new cup—this one labeled Spiritual Support Juice.
"That's a Remnant. A projection formed by your own Hollow imprint. It's made from your fear, regret, and unresolved trauma. Standard stuff."
"It's wearing my face."
"Well, I said regret. I didn't say pretty."
The Remnant lunged.
Root barely dodged again, but this time—something clicked.
Not in his system. Not in his mind.
In the rhythm.
The Remnant fought with his movements. Twisted versions of his stances. Every attack had the hesitation he used to carry in his shoulders. The same flinch. The same anger.
It was him.
A darker echo, sealed in flame.
"Can I beat it?" he whispered.
"You have to," Veyr said. "Otherwise, it stays inside you. Haunts the system. Limits the growth of the Veinbind."
Another swing came, horizontal.
Root didn't dodge.
He stepped into it.
Used Flowstrike. Redirected. Bent the flaming blade around his momentum and slipped under the strike, slamming his palm into the Remnant's center.
The world pulsed.
Shadowstep activated.
Root vanished.
Reappeared behind the Remnant—drove his heel into the back of its knee.
The creature staggered.
It turned—too slow this time.
And in that brief opening, Root saw the truth.
Its chest.
The flickering core of it.
Not a heart.
A sigil.
Incomplete.
Fractured.
Like his own.
Like it was waiting for him to accept it.
Root surged forward.
"No more running!"
He grabbed the creature with both arms, dragging it forward into the center of the platform. The flame licked across his back. His skin blistered. But he didn't let go.
"I'm not you anymore."
The sigil pulsed in his chest—and in the Remnant's.
Both bloomed.
And then…
The Remnant shattered.
Like glass.
Flames died.
The platform quieted.
⸻
[Quest Complete]
+6 Hollow Points Earned
New Feature: Weapon Bond – Unlocked
New Equipment: Sigilbrand Gauntlet – Tier 1 (Bound)
Passive Upgrade: Flow Boost + Tier 1
⸻
Root dropped to his knees, panting.
The burns faded slowly, as if the System itself was acknowledging his growth with mercy.
A new panel appeared in front of him:
⸻
[Weapon Bond – Sigilbrand Gauntlet]
Type: Gauntlet
Effect: +Medium Striking Power | Generates Hollow Pulse Damage | Stores 1 Active Skill
Current Skill Stored: Bone Rush (Cooldown: 5h 51m)
⸻
He held out his hand.
The gauntlet appeared in a flash of pale silver. Sleek. Etched with lines that resembled veins—or maybe scars. It fit like it had always been part of him.
Veyr floated down, a little less smug than usual.
"You didn't win because you were stronger," he said. "You won because you accepted what you used to be."
Root didn't reply.
He stood.
Stronger.
Smarter.
Less afraid.
And somewhere inside, the sigil he still couldn't use shimmered—quietly.
As if watching.
Waiting.
For the next battle.