Chapter 15

Hollow Intentions

Maia sat cross-legged near the fire, idly poking at the cooking pot with a stick. The encampment around Cassix station was a lot quieter now, most travellers settled into their own fires or huddled in their makeshift shelters.

The merchant had some kind of tinned fish that her father insisted tasted better boiled. The smell didn’t entice Maia in. Matthias crouched nearby, sharpening a blade. Sometimes she wondered if he found it comforting to just listen to the scrape of the blade, because he’d sharpen that thing every night even when he’d not used it.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps crunching in the dirt as someone approached.

“Evenin’!” a man’s voice called out, friendly but cautious. Maia looked up to see a group approaching from the gloom, their figures illuminated by the flicker of the fire. They were a mixed bunch—three men, two women—dressed in mismatched gear that marked them as scavengers or nomads. One of the men, broad-shouldered and carrying a rifle slung across his back, stepped forward.

“Hope we’re not disturbing you,” the man with the rifle said with an easy grin. “Just couldn’t help but admire your rig. That’s a pre-war carrier, isn’t it? You don’t see those every day.”

Maia felt a small spark of pride. She loved the Dame, and the admiration in the man’s voice made her want to talk about the countless hours she and her father had spent keeping her running. “She’s been with us a long time,” she said, standing to greet them.

“She’s a beauty,” one of the women added, stepping closer. “I’d kill to have something like that. What’s her top speed?” Something about the woman was familiar but Maia couldn’t place it.

Matthias stood abruptly, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his blade. “She’s not for sale,” he said, his tone clipped. “And we’re not interested in visitors.”

The group paused, their friendly smiles dimming. The man with the rifle held up his hands in a gesture of peace. “We’re not looking for trouble. Just thought we’d say hello. You don’t see rigs like that out here very often.”

“You’ve said hello,” Matthias replied evenly, his gaze steady. “Now move along.”

The tension in the air was palpable. Maia felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment and frustration. Why did he always have to be like this? The group exchanged glances before stepping back, their leader offering a stiff nod. “Fair enough. You folks take care.”

As they retreated into the shadows, Maia rounded on her father, her voice low but sharp. “What the hell was that?”

“What was what?” Matthias asked, sitting back down by the fire as if nothing had happened.

“They were just being friendly! You didn’t have to shut them down like that.”

“Friendly?” he scoffed, putting away the blade he’d been sharpening, pulling out a smaller knife and started on that one. “They were sizing us up. Scavengers like that? They’d strip us clean the moment our backs were turned.”

“Not everyone’s out to get us, you know. You don’t even give people a chance.”

“And you give them too much credit,” Matthias shot back. “Out here, trust will get you killed. You’d do well to remember that.”

“Are we not staying here because it’s safer to stay in groups?” She crossed her arms.

“We’re staying here because scuttlers don’t come near this place. It’s safer… that don’t mean it’s safe.”

Maia worked the muscles in her jaw, frustration simmering just below the surface. The fire crackled between them, filling the silence with its soft pops and hisses.

“I’m going for a walk,” she muttered, grabbing her jacket.

“Don’t go far,” Matthias called after her.

Maia sighed, kicking a stray rock. He always acted like the world was out to get them, like every stranger was an enemy lying in wait. Maybe some are, she thought, but not all. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled at someone who wasn’t her—or even her, now that she thought about it.

And it wasn’t just the way he shut people out. It was all the secrets. The way he dodged her questions or gave her half-answers, as though she was still a child who couldn’t handle the truth. Like with her Fatebond. Why couldn’t he just tell her what he knew? And the Arcanum system—how much did he really know about it? He always acted like it wasn’t a big deal, but now that she was using it more, it was clear there were big differences in how hers operated versus his.

Without consciously aiming for it, she’d ambled her way over to the large graffiti-covered ruin. She could barely make out the artwork on the walls now in the dim light. The cracks in the sky gave off their strange light, casting a pink hue on everything not touched by the light of the campfires. But that was normal to Maia, she’d grown up with those cracks in the sky.

A particular piece caught her eye, a faded mural of a tree with branches that spiralled outward in impossible loops, its roots twisting into a labyrinth of interconnected lines. The artist had painted it in whites and greys, but now, under the pink light, it looked as though it were glowing. Beside it, someone had scrawled the words WE ENDURE in looping, elegant handwriting, the letters partially covered by newer layers of graffiti.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Maia turned quickly, her hand instinctively twitching toward her belt knife, but the woman from earlier was already standing a few feet away, hands raised in a gesture of harmlessness. She was smiling, her expression friendly but calm, her dark hair catching the faint glow of the cracks overhead.

“Sorry,” the woman added. “Didn’t mean to spook you.” She had a strange accent that Maia couldn’t place.

Maia relaxed slightly, though her heart still hammered in her chest. “It’s fine,” she muttered, glancing quickly back at the Dame. Her father was by the fire, his back turned as he poked at something in the pot. He probably wouldn’t notice. Probably.

The woman stepped closer, her gaze moving to the mural. “That tree… it’s different, isn’t it? Feels like it’s got a story to tell.”

Maia hesitated, unsure if she should engage. But something about the woman tugged at her curiosity, a faint itch in the back of her mind. There was something oddly familiar about her, though Maia couldn’t place it.

“Who do you reckon painted it?”

“Oh, some traveller passing through, I’ve never had the skill to add to this wall. Funny how people are drawn to create art here… of all places,” she added the last part quietly. Maia wasn’t sure if the woman meant that because of the remoteness of the spot or because of the Nexus.

“What brings you out here, anyway?” Maia asked, deflecting.

“Same as you, I imagine,” The woman chuckled softly. “Passing through. Looking for someplace that could become home.”

“You’re… not staying here at Cassix, are you?”

“No one stays at Cassix, do they?”

Maia nodded, though something about the answer didn’t sit right. She found herself searching the woman’s face again, trying to pin down why she looked so familiar.

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“You’re travelling with the others?”

“For now,” the woman said. “But I’ve always preferred smaller groups. Less noise. Easier to think.”

The woman began idly walking along the wall, looking at the graffiti. She was very mysterious, her movements were smooth and unhurried, like she had all the time in the world.

She focused her intent, letting the Arcanum system engage, her overlays shifting to life around the woman. Almost immediately, a soft purple haze began to emanate from her, faint but unmistakable. Maia felt a small thrill of satisfaction—she’d done it again. The woman didn’t seem to notice, though Maia knew from experience that subtle pull on someone’s life energy was detectable. Her father had known when she’d tried it on him, but this woman didn’t react at all.

Good.

Still, the whole thing felt a little reckless. If her father saw her using her scrav-powers like this without telling him, he’d blow a gasket. But he had been pushing her to practise, hadn’t he? And this woman didn’t seem dangerous. Just… strange. And so Archons-damned Mysterious, Maia thought, rolling her eyes at herself. That was just an excuse to keep poking.

Then something flickered in the corner of her vision, just inside the storage building.

A flicker of blackness.

She froze mid-step, her breath catching. The Arcanum overlays pulsed faintly, confirming what she thought she’d seen. It wasn’t just a shadow—it was something. And she’d seen that through the wall. The same way that she could see the faint lights of plant roots beneath the ground. She focused her mind back on the shadow but it was gone. Strange.

Her stomach tightened. She glanced at the woman, who was further down the wall now, her attention still on the mural and seemingly oblivious to Maia’s distraction. Taking a cautious step toward the crumbling gap, Maia peered through to the interior.

Inside, there was only darkness. The faint pink glow from the sky barely reached into the depths of the ruin, leaving the interior cloaked in shadow. It looked… normal. Or at least, as normal as a crumbling military ruin could look.

Her curiosity burned stronger now, and her fingers twitched. She had wanted to have a look around in here. This was her chance. If she didn’t look now, they’d be gone by morning, and whatever was inside would remain a mystery.

Steeling herself, Maia slipped through the gap in the wall and into the dark.

Maia reached into her jacket pocket, pulling out her algae-light head-torch. The greenish glow flickered to life, casting eerie shadows across the walls as she secured the strap around her head. The light illuminated the tangle of ancient machinery strewn across the floor—broken gears, twisted beams, and shattered consoles half-buried in debris.

She climbed carefully over a heap of scrap. The orange marker on her overlay map was only a few meters ahead and she wanted to see for herself what this Nexus actually looked like.

There was an old crumbling wall in her way, but she found a narrow gap to slip through into another room. The room was large, its floor cracked and uneven. At the center stood a circular platform.

That must be it. The overlay map showed that she was standing right at the orange marker. Her overlays flared, casting a cascade of new information across her vision.

Fatebond Anchor Detected

Type: Secondary Nexus Status

Dormant Activation Date: Local Year 881

Function: Assignment and Regulation of Divine Decrees

Warning: Residual Corruption Present

So this was a ‘Fatebond Anchor’, or what was left of one. It was larger than she’d imagined, the scorched metal edges looked like someone had tried ripping it up with a chainsaw. To any normal person’s eyes it would appear as a damaged metal platform. Possibly for assembling some kind of machinery. But with Maia’s overlays active, she could see that it was pulsing with life. It was like a swirling stream of rainbow light swirling around the base. It looked… beautiful.

Maia stepped closer, and felt a vibrating hum beneath her feet, growing stronger. Her fingers twitched at her sides, her scrav-powers responding instinctively to the raw energy swirling. She knew that—if she wanted to—she could draw on this. The same way that she did from plants. It was incredible. This has been here the entire time and no one but her could see how amazing it was.

What does this thing do? She thought, and as she drew nearer, new overlays flickered into view.

Purpose

Anchor divine mandates to mortal vessels, ensuring compliance across realms

Power

Energy source decentralised. Collapse is inevitable.

Stability

Compromised

“What the hell…” she murmured.

The overlay began shifting, displaying a pulsing network of connections radiating outward from the platform like veins spreading from a beating heart. She crouched, her hand hovering above the platform’s edge. Her fingertips tingled with an unnatural warmth, as though the energy within were reaching out to her.

A sudden flicker of blackness caught her attention in the corner of her vision. She whipped around, her breath hitching. It wasn’t there anymore, but she’d seen it—the same shadowy light she’d spotted outside the storage building. A prickle of unease crept up her spine. Was something… watching her?

“Mmmmm curious,” the voice ears into her chest like oil. She shivered, her blood running cold. She knew that voice.

“I’ve begun to understand so much about your world, child of Solas,” the words coiled like serpents around her, the tone mockingly smooth. Ice lanced down her spine, rooting her in place. She wanted to scream, to run, but the terror clutched her throat, choking her.

The shadow materialised across the platform, dark tendrils coalescing into the form of a man—or something pretending to be one. His robes were black as the void, rippling with shadows that seemed to drink the light around them. His face was pale, deceptively human at first glance, but his mouth... His mouth stretched into a grotesque maw of jagged fangs, like the gaping jaws of a sandworm. And his eyes—empty, endless pits of darkness—seemed to consume everything they touched.

Maia’s stomach twisted in recognition. It’s him. Oh Archons, it’s him. The creature she’d released from the containment pod on the Verdant skyship.

“Fatebonds…” the creature’s voice dripped with amusement as it began circling the platform, its movements fluid and alien. “Clever. Not divine truths, but engineered bindings—crafted and anchored to the physical world like chains. Very clever. But also so very stupid.” Its voice slithered over her like eels, writhing and slick.

“I’ve been following you,” it continued, the faintest edge of hunger bleeding into its tone. Its blackened form seemed to tremble with anticipation. “I had hoped your world would have more of... you. But no. Just... you.”

“You wish to know what this place is? You desire knowledge. If you give to me… if you let me… feed but a little. Then I will tell you all you wish to know.”

Maia noticed that the creature gave the platform and swirling light a comfortable distance, evidently unwilling to let any of the light touch it.

And then she felt it. The tug. A lurching, sickening sensation that yanked at her core, as if her very soul were tethered to invisible threads and this creature was rattling the jar she was trapped in. It was like her father’s description of life drain—but in reverse. Instead of her pulling life from a target, the creature was pulling from her.

Her scrav-powers flared in response, a tingling heat rising in her chest. She could feel them, instinctively ready to defend, to draw on the energy before her—but she knew, knew, that feeding on this thing would be a far greater danger than letting it feed on her.

“You still... recoil,” the Hollow’s voice darkened, offended. Its form loomed closer, the tendrils of shadow curling hungrily toward her.

“I offer you what you desire... and yet you... revile,” its tone rose in anger and Maia felt her legs begin to shake.

And then in a flash, the creature’s cloak flared out and Maia saw it wasn’t just black—it was speckled with countless tiny motes of light. It looked deep, infinite, an unfathomable void that seemed to stretch forever. Maia had never seen stars before; the light of the cracks in the sky drowned them out, leaving the heavens perpetually veiled. But she’d read about them, heard stories from travellers. This—this was what she imagined they might look like.

“Had you given willingly,” the Hollow hissed, its voice a venomous whisper that curled around her mind. It moved toward her, a tide of writhing shadows.

“Favoured forever, you could have been. Forever feeding,” it’s voice building to an angered fevered pitch. Its maw stretched wide, fangs gleaming in the fractured light of the sky. The words came again, overlapping, wrong—each syllable slipping and twisting into the next. “Meal… fleeting... only... fleeting… why… this... resist?”

A flash of light erupted through the dark, splitting the creature’s cloak as a brilliant blue spear struck it squarely. The Hollow let out a sound that wasn’t a scream but something far worse—a resonant discord that tore through Maia’s mind, leaving her dizzy. It recoiled, its jagged maw snapping shut, its shadowy form twisting as it turned toward the source of the attack.