The air inside the fortress was thick with tension, a palpable sense of dread that clung to every stone. As Ronon, Kellan, and Jorin made their way deeper into the stronghold, the weight of the Circle's power pressed in on them. The corridors were narrow, twisting labyrinths of stone, illuminated only by the faint flicker of torches lining the walls.
"This place feels… dead," Jorin muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "Like a tomb."
Ronon nodded, feeling the same unease. "It's a reflection of the one who rules here."
At the heart of this stronghold, they would find him: the Hollow King, a man once powerful and respected, now little more than a puppet to the Circle's dark designs. The name alone sent shivers down Ronon's spine. The Hollow King was a symbol of the kingdom's decay, a ruler who had abandoned his people for power and immortality. But what he had gained in dark knowledge, he had lost in soul and purpose.
As they approached the inner sanctum, the oppressive atmosphere grew heavier. The sounds of battle echoed faintly from outside the fortress walls, but here, it was deathly quiet. Ronon felt the weight of unseen eyes on them, watching, waiting.
They reached a set of massive iron doors, engraved with twisted symbols of the Circle. Kellan's hand hovered near his weapon, tension radiating from him. "This is it," he said, voice tight.
Ronon took a deep breath, pushing the doors open. The room beyond was vast, its ceiling lost in shadows. At its center, on a raised dais, sat a throne made of cold, black stone. And upon that throne sat the Hollow King.
He was a gaunt figure, draped in tattered robes, his face pale and sunken. His eyes were hollow, empty voids that reflected nothing of the man he had once been. His crown, a twisted mass of iron and bone, sat askew on his head, as if even it had given up on its wearer.
"So," the Hollow King's voice rasped, barely more than a whisper, "you've come."
Ronon stepped forward, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword. "We're here to end this," he said, his voice steady. "The Circle's reign of terror ends tonight."
The Hollow King let out a low, rattling laugh. "End this?" He rose from his throne, his movements slow, deliberate. "You cannot end what has already begun. The Circle is eternal. Its power flows through the veins of this kingdom, through the blood of its rulers. You are but a fleeting moment in a grand design."
Ronon's jaw tightened. "You've abandoned your people. You've given up your kingdom for the Circle's lies."
The Hollow King's empty eyes fixed on Ronon. "I did what was necessary to survive. To transcend."
Kellan took a step forward, his voice sharp. "You've traded your soul for power, and now look at you. A shell of a king, sitting on a throne of death."
The Hollow King's lips curled into a cold smile. "You speak of souls as if they matter. But power… power is all that matters."
Ronon drew his sword, its blade gleaming in the dim light. "And yet you sit here, alone, abandoned by the very power you sought. You are nothing."
For a moment, the Hollow King was silent, his gaze piercing. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he raised his hand. Dark energy crackled in the air, swirling around him like a storm.
"You think you can defeat me?" he hissed. "I am beyond death. Beyond fear. I am eternal."
Without warning, the ground beneath them trembled, and shadows erupted from the floor, coiling and writhing like living creatures. Kellan and Jorin moved to flank the Hollow King, but the shadows surged toward them, forcing them to defend themselves.
Ronon rushed forward, his sword slicing through the dark tendrils as he closed the distance between him and the Hollow King. Their eyes locked, and in that moment, Ronon saw the truth—the Hollow King was not invincible. He was a man, broken and consumed by the darkness he had once sought to control.
"You are not eternal," Ronon said, his voice fierce. "You're already dead."
With a powerful swing, Ronon's blade met the Hollow King's chest. The force of the blow shattered the dark energy surrounding him, and the Hollow King let out a scream, a sound of pure agony and rage. As the shadows collapsed, his body crumbled to dust, leaving nothing but the empty throne behind.
The room fell silent, the oppressive weight lifting as the Hollow King's reign came to an end. Ronon stood still, breathing hard, staring at the throne.
"It's over," Jorin said quietly, stepping up beside him.
Ronon sheathed his sword, his eyes never leaving the throne. "For him, yes. But for us… it's only just begun."