Pain.

The burning pain of the infection filled every part of their body. Once they had started to absorb the noxious clouds of orange from the defeated Hollow Knight, they found themselves unable to stop. 

They felt the thoughts of the Hollow Knight. They felt how badly they wanted to live up to the Pale King's expectations. They felt the dread that they had felt as they were sealed in the temple. They felt the Hollow Knight's despair, grief, and pain, so much pain. It filled every inch of the Knight's once empty mind.

Was this how it felt? To have thoughts, to have emotions?

More and more of the infection seeps into the Knight's void body. Out of the corner of their eye, they see Hornet. Their sibling. All at once, regret and sorrow seeps into them. They couldn't even tell if she was alive. While they were fighting the Hollow Knight, Hornet's interference had been nothing more to them but a convenient assist. They didn't know why Hornet had decided to help them, especially when she explicitly mentioned that doing so would put her life at risk. 

It didn’t really matter either, at least not to them. The Knight had simply charged up a cyclone slash and rained several heavy blows upon the Hollow Knight’s back. After that, Hornet was tossed aside; That didn’t matter either. The Knight only had one goal in mind. Even if they did not understand their goal, they would still fulfill it, as that was what they were made to do.

If it did not matter, then why did it hurt so much to see her like this? With her needle laying on the ground, next to her lifeless body?

It hurt. It hurt more than the blazing infection merging with their soul and void.

They heard the Grimmchild squeal as it flew around in alarm. A large chain link fell from the ceiling and collided with it in midair. It fell from the air and landed next to the Knight. It gave off a weak snarl before closing its eyes.

'Stop.'

That was the only thought that the Knight could muster. It was the first thought that they had created entirely on their own. More than anything, they wanted to stop absorbing the Hollow Knight’s infection, stop feeling these things.

But that wasn’t possible.

They heard a scream. It came from inside of their own head.

The Hollow Knight collapsed in front of them. All traces of orange had vanished from their mask, leaving behind only dark sockets with nothing behind them - not even void.The Knight themselves wanted to collapse as well, but they couldn’t. Their body wouldn’t let them.

Orange tinted their vision, and everything seemed too bright. Chains appeared around them. Only then did the Knight truly realise their fate. 

It was too late. Far too late.

The sickening orange glow in their eyes kept intensifying until eventually, it was all that they could see.

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The Knight looked up, and was met with an endless dark void.

Then it looked around. A broken, hollow black egg sat to their right. A glowing sigil with a few lines of text was on their left. When they looked down, they saw that they were resting on the bench just outside of the Hollow Knight’s room. The Grimmchild was sleeping next to the bench, wings wrapped around itself like a blanket.

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Perhaps ‘bench’ wasn’t the right word for it though - while comfortable enough to rest on, it seemed to just be a solid piece of rock that was only shaped to crudely resemble a bench.

For a moment, they just sat there, looking at the Grimmchild. The pain of the infection and the orange glow in their eyes had vanished completely. Only the thoughts of the Hollow Knight lingered in their mind, and even those were growing faint. 

They were sealed forever inside of the temple, along with Hornet and the Hollow Knight. But now, they could see that that was no longer the case. They only needed a single glance to see the ominous clouds of infection coming from the Hollow Knight’s chamber, and another glance behind them to see a faint light coming from the exit.

Slowly, they reached down and put their hands around the Grimmchild. It suddenly awoke, head shooting up in surprise, but once it saw the Knight, it slowly lowered its head again. As gently as they could, the Knight lifted the Grimmchild up and stared at him with wonder. No more than a minute or two ago, it was knocked out by a piece of debris that probably weighed more than itself. But now here it was, lazing about like nothing had even happened.

'Warm.' The Knight thought. The body of the Grimmchild was warm, almost enough so that it was uncomfortable holding him. Almost. They gently placed him down next to them on the bench before pausing and looked down at their own hands, which were trembling.

A thought. They had just made a second thought, and they almost didn’t realize it. Before they could even get over their own surprise, a third thought came to mind. 'Hornet'. The Knight took off the Grimmchild charm, causing it to vanish into thin air. Worry and fear began to creep into its mind, which was only kept at bay from the fact that the Knight had seen this happen before. The Grimmchild would be fine when they put the charm back on. For now however, the Knight didn’t want to interrupt its sleep.

The Knight jumped down from the bench so suddenly that they stumbled for a few steps and nearly fell over. As they recovered, they began to sprint out of the temple with an uncharacteristic sense of urgency.

As the Knight approached the exit, they felt a jolt run through them. There, just ahead of them, was the figure of their sister. They charged forward with renowned vigor until finally, they found themself out of the temple. 

Hornet, having heard their approach, turned around and looked at them with surprise. “Back so soon, little ghost?”

The Knight only stared at her in awe. She was fine, as fine as the Grimmchild. Why? What had happened? Perhaps this was all just a dream, an illusion created within himself. Maybe right now, they were actually chained up inside of the temple with their body slowly corroding from the infection and this was just something that their fragmented mind had created.

Hornet tilted her head. “Is there something you need? I’ve already told you that I won’t join you in your fight.”

It felt like something was crushing them. The room spun around them as an indescribable feeling rose in the Knight’s chest. All of the sudden, they felt like they were back inside of the Hollow Knight’s chamber, absorbing the infection from their broken body. Only this time, there was no pain. Only some strange mixture of anguish and relief that was entirely too heavy for them to bear.

Suddenly, Hornet took a step forward. “You… Ghost…? Are you… crying?”

Black, viscous void seeped out of their mask’s sockets. They staggered forward until they were right in front of Hornet. Even with her right there, it still seemed unbelievable. 

They had seen so much death, so much destruction, so much despair, and some of it was caused by their own hand. Quirrel’s nail, stuck on the shores of the Blue Lake. The Nailsmith’s body, falling lifelessly into the waters of the City of Tears. The thousands of husks lying around in the Forgotten Crossroads.

None of it had mattered. The Knight had just moved past these tragedies without any pause.

So why now?

Why was it now that it felt like their soul was being ripped into shreds?

It was too much.

Silently, the Knight fell to the floor. It felt like too much effort to move. In their mind, scenes were being replayed on loop, overlapping one-another. The Hollow Knight’s almost pathetic body, being dragged around to fight for the infection, and their screams of pain as they stabbed themselves. Tiso’s lifeless body, laying on the grounds of Kingdom’s Edge, deprived of his confidence and slain in a meaningless fight. Cloth being impaled by the Traitor Lord and becoming no more than a remnant of a dream, one sent away by the Dream Nail. Myla succumbing to the infection before falling to the Knight’s own blade.

All of it.

Somewhere, far away, they could hear Hornet saying something in what sounded like alarm.

They couldn’t make out her words.