Chapter 1: The Hollow King's Awakening
The End of a Tyrant
Darkness. Endless and suffocating.
Zephyr had once ruled this world, standing above gods and men alike. His throne had been carved from the bones of the fallen, his crown forged in the dying embers of civilization. He was the Hollow King, the first to embrace the Abyss, the one who had dragged the world into ruin with him.
And yet, in the end…
He fell.
Not by the hands of warriors, not by divine wrath—no, he was betrayed.
A great war had been fought, one that had shattered continents and drowned empires in blood. The Veiled Lands had burned, their skies blackened by the Abyss. Zephyr had stood alone against the gods themselves, and he had nearly won.
But in the final hour, as he prepared to claim his ultimate throne—they turned against him.
The ones he had raised, the ones who had sworn loyalty to his cause.
A blade through his spine.
Chains forged from something more than metal—divine shackles, crafted from the corpses of forsaken gods.
A ritual so abhorrent that even the Abyss itself recoiled.
He did not remember the final blow. Only the sensation of being unmade, of his very existence being torn apart and cast into oblivion.
And yet…
He still existed.
---
The Awakening
Zephyr's eyes snapped open.
A sharp gasp tore from his lips as cold air rushed into his lungs. He lurched forward, his body seizing, as if dragged from the depths of a nightmare.
For a moment, he could see nothing. Only the darkness—the same abyss that had swallowed him. But then, reality crashed into him all at once.
He was lying on cold, jagged stone. The scent of damp decay and iron filled his nostrils. His fingers dug into the rough ground beneath him, feeling the brittle, ashen remains of something long dead.
A ruined temple.
He pushed himself up, every muscle screaming in protest. His body felt wrong—too light, too fragile. It lacked the boundless strength he once possessed.
Zephyr staggered to his feet, his breath slow and ragged. He looked down at himself, expecting to see his Abyssal form, the shape he had taken when he had become more than mortal.
Instead, he saw flesh. Human flesh.
Disgust twisted in his chest. This wasn't his body.
This was a prison.
A cruel mockery of what he had once been.
And yet… something remained.
Beneath his skin, beneath the fragile constraints of mortality, the Abyss still whispered. A hunger that had never faded. A power that refused to be extinguished.
Zephyr exhaled, his lips curling into a slow, dangerous smile.
He had been erased, but he had returned.
And those who had taken everything from him…
They would soon know true horror.
---
The First Step
Zephyr turned his gaze outward, taking in the ruins around him.
The temple was a forgotten place, lost to time. Its walls were cracked and overgrown, its statues crumbling into dust. And yet, there was something deeply familiar about it.
He had been here before. Long ago.
A memory stirred—a fragment of his past, slipping just out of reach.
Then, the silence broke.
A low growl echoed from the shadows.
Zephyr turned his head slowly. Eyes. Dozens of them. Watching from the darkness.
Abyssals.
Lesser creatures. Starving. Feral. Drawn by the scent of his rebirth.
Zephyr chuckled. "How pathetic."
Once, these things had been his children. Now, they were nothing more than beasts.
They lunged.
Zephyr smiled.
The first devouring began.
---
End of Chapter 1
This chapter introduces Zephyr's past, but keeps the full story shrouded in mystery—giving readers just enough to make them crave more. The betrayal is hinted at but not fully explained. His new, weakened form creates intrigue—how will he reclaim his power?