"I'm not going to die today."

Kael Solis, a low-ranking C-Class Chosen with a nearly useless affinity, stood at the edge of the enclave, high above the canyon floor, watching as the first rays of sunlight spilled over the jagged cliffs. It was a strange thing to look at—beautiful and terrible all at once. The golden light bathed the world in warmth, glinting off the red-hued rock walls and stretching long shadows across the ground. But Kael knew better. He had grown up hearing the stories, watching the scars left behind by those who dared to walk beneath the sun for too long.

To most of humanity, the sun was no longer a giver of life. It was a curse, poisoning the earth with energy that twisted animals into monsters and drove men mad. They called them Hollows now—grotesque remnants of what once was, driven by an insatiable hunger for human flesh.

For centuries, humanity had fled the sunlight, burrowing deep into the earth or retreating to places where the sun's deadly rays couldn't reach. Kael's enclave, Ash Canyon, was one of the oldest and safest refuges. The narrow canyon walls blocked direct sunlight, leaving only dim, filtered light to touch the settlements below. Crops grew in carefully tended terraces carved into the rock, lit by mirrors that redirected sunlight without allowing its toxic rays to linger. Homes and markets sprawled within the walls themselves, carved into the stone like honeycombs, connected by bridges and winding paths.

It should have felt safe. But the shadows in the canyon weren't empty. Not anymore.

Kael's boots scraped against the stone as he leaned on the railing of the southern barricade. The barricade, a haphazard wall of steel and reinforced stone, marked the last line of defense before the open canyon beyond.

Beyond that, the sun ruled.

"Don't stare at it too long. Makes you think stupid thoughts," a voice rang out.

Kael turned to see a middle-aged man with a lined face and a cigarette dangling from his lips. The man's name was Arvin, one of the civilian workers tasked with maintaining the barricade. He squinted at Kael through the haze of smoke with an expression more amused than concerned.

"Not thinking about heading out there, are you?" Arvin asked, nodding toward the horizon. "Not a good day to go Hollow."

"Just… clearing my thoughts."

"Good. You don't look ready for your first mission yet," Arvin said with a chuckle, taking a long drag. "Let me guess: nerves?"

Kael didn't answer. It wasn't nerves exactly—not the kind Arvin was thinking of, anyway. His hand drifted to the insignia on his chest, the mark of the Chosen Corps. The sunburst symbol, half-shrouded in darkness, was meant to represent balance. Strength in the light. Resilience in the dark. But for Kael, it felt more like a target painted over his heart.

He had only been a Chosen for three months. Three months of grueling training, endless drills, and whispers behind his back about whether he deserved the title. His affinity—shadow manipulation—hadn't impressed anyone. It wasn't flashy like engulfing flames or solar bursts. The instructors had barely looked at him during evaluations, and the other recruits… well, most of them weren't exactly subtle about their doubts.

But he was still here. That had to count for something.

"Kael!"

A sharp voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He turned to see Captain Drevan striding toward him, his broad shoulders and heavy boots making him look more like a boulder than a man. Drevan had been with the Chosen Corps for years, his earth-based affinity making him one of the best defensive fighters in the region. As far as he could remember, Kael had never seen the man smile.

"You're wasting time," Drevan said bluntly. "Get to the plaza. The convoy leaves in an hour."

Kael nodded, forcing himself to stand straighter. "Yes, sir."

As he walked toward the heart of the enclave, he felt Drevan's eyes linger on him, sharp and scrutinizing. He knew what the captain was thinking. The same thing everyone else thought: Why is he even here?

He wasn't sure if he belonged here either —if he ever would. Today was his first mission as a Chosen, and already his stomach churned with unease.

"I'm not dying today."

****

25 minutes until departure...

The plaza buzzed with activity. Merchants called out from makeshift stalls, their voices competing with the clang of blacksmiths working on radiant gear - the only real defense against Hollows. Civilians bustled past, carrying crates of supplies or guiding children through the crowded streets. It was chaotic, but Kael found comfort in the noise. It reminded him that life still went on, even in the shadow of the Hollow Sun.

He passed by a stall selling amulets carved from obsidian—a popular choice among those who believed in warding off the sun's curse. Further down, a mechanic argued with a customer over the price of a solar lantern, a device designed to mimic sunlight without the radiation. Everywhere Kael looked, there were signs of humanity's resilience. It was fragile, but it was there.

The convoy was parked near the plaza's edge, a line of reinforced vehicles loaded with supplies and guarded by Chosen. Kael spotted Rendrik Vale leaning against one of the trucks, a cocky grin on his face as he chatted up a group of refugees. The pyrokinetic's bright red armor glinted in the dim light, making him impossible to miss.

"Well, well," Rendrik called out as Kael approached. "Look who finally decided to show up. Thought you were going to chicken out."

"Not today," Kael said flatly, adjusting his vambrace. He wasn't in the mood for Rendrik's teasing, but he knew better than to rise to the bait.

"Good. Wouldn't want to miss the fun." Rendrik smirked and gave Kael a once-over. "You sure you're ready for this? I mean, shadows are great for hiding, but out there? You'll need more than a few parlor tricks to survive."

Kael ignored him, focusing instead on the refugees loading into the convoy. Families huddled together, their faces pale and anxious. Most of them were farmers from an outlying settlement, fleeing after a recent Hollow attack. A few carried weapons, but they looked more like tools than anything meant for combat.

"Alright, listen up!" Drevan's voice boomed over the plaza, silencing the chatter. "This is a simple escort mission. We're taking these people to Hollowshard Pass. Two days there, two days back. Stay in formation, watch the cliffs, and keep the civilians alive. If you see anything—anything—out of the ordinary, report it immediately."

Kael nodded along with the others, though his stomach tightened to an almost unbearable extent.

Simple. That's what they always said.

As the convoy neared its departure, Drevan called the group of Chosen together, his sharp gaze sweeping over them. Kael stood at attention, feeling the weight of the captain's scrutiny. Beside him, Rendrik fiddled with the straps on his armor, his smirk fading slightly under Drevan's stern presence.

"We've been over this before, but I'm not taking any chances. Some of you are new, and I'd rather not scrape what's left of you off the canyon walls," Drevan growled. His voice carried the weight of experience, each word sharp and precise. "Let's go over the basics. Someone tell me—what are we dealing with out there?"

Rendrik straightened, though his smirk remained. "Hollows. Twisted, bloodthirsty freaks. You stab 'em, they die. Pretty straightforward."

Drevan's glare froze the smirk on Rendrik's face as he replied, "Wrong. Hollows aren't just monsters, Vale. They were human, once. Or animal. Or something in between. The sun didn't just kill them—it twisted them, corrupted them. It gave them strength. They're faster than you, stronger than you, and some of them are smart enough to use that against you."

He turned to the group, his expression hard: "Hollows are ranked by threat level. Someone tell me the classifications."

Kael hesitated, unsure if he should speak, but another Chosen beat him to it.

"Lesser Hollows," the woman said confidently. "The weakest ones. They're fast, but fragile."

Drevan nodded. "Right. Lesser Hollows are small, mostly animal types—wolves, birds, even vermin. But don't let their size fool you. They'll overwhelm you in packs if you're not careful."

The woman continued: "Next are the Elites. Hunters."

"Hunters are a whole different problem. They're bigger, stronger, and smarter. They stalk you, pick off your weakest, and retreat before you can even react. If you see one, don't engage alone. Call for backup."

"And the big ones?" Rendrik asked, leaning back with mock curiosity. "The ones that make even you nervous?"

Drevan's eyes narrowed, and his voice grew threatening: "Behemoths. Colossal Hollows. I've only seen one up close, and I don't plan on seeing another. They're massive, slow, and nearly impossible to kill. Takes a whole unit of S-Class Chosen to bring one down, and even then, you're lucky if half the team survives. If you spot one, you run."

The group fell silent. The weight of Drevan's words settled over them. Kael felt a chill crawl up his spine as he tested every syllable in his mind. Behemoths sounded like something out of a nightmare, but it was the next question that truly unsettled him.

"And the last kind?" Kael asked softly, surprising even himself.

Drevan's expression darkened, and for the first time, his voice wavered.

"Ascended Hollows," he said grimly. "The rarest and most dangerous. Some people don't even believe they exist. But make no mistake, they are very real. I've seen one—once."

The group exchanged uneasy glances. Even Rendrik had fallen silent. His usual bravado faded easily under the weight of his words.

"They're… different," Drevan continued. "Stronger, smarter, and—somehow—more human. They don't just hunt. They plan. They lead. If you ever come across an Ascended Hollow, pray it doesn't notice you. Because if it does…" He trailed off, leaving the warning unfinished.

Kael swallowed hard. The idea of a creature that retained some semblance of humanity, something that could think like them, unsettled him more than anything else.

"What do we do if we see one?" he asked quietly.

Drevan's gaze locked onto his: "You don't. You run. And if you can't run, you buy time for the rest of us. Understood?"

Kael's body went cold, but somehow he mustard a nod, perhaps instinctively due to his training.

"Understood."

Drevan stepped back, his tone shifting to a sharp bark of command: "Good. Remember this: Hollows don't care how strong you think you are. One mistake, one single lapse in judgment, and they'll rip you apart. Stick to your training, stay in formation, and follow my lead. If you do that, you might live long enough to see the end of this mission."

He scanned the group one last time, his eyes lingering on Kael for a moment longer than necessary.

"Alright, get to your positions. We leave in two."

Kael exhaled slowly as the group dispersed, the tension in his chest refusing to fade. He could still hear Drevan's voice echoing in his mind, describing the different types of Hollows in chilling detail. The way the captain had spoken about the Ascended Hollows left a gnawing pit of dread in his stomach. If Drevan was afraid of them, what chance did someone like him stand?

As Kael adjusted his gear, Rendrik sidled up beside him, his smirk back in place.

"Don't let him scare you too much, rookie. Most Lesser Hollows go down with a good swing or two. Just don't freeze up, and you'll be fine."

Kael didn't reply. Instead, his gaze drifted to the cliffs above. The sunlight cast jagged shadows across the rock, making the canyon feel smaller, more oppressive. And for a moment, he thought he saw something shift in the shadows—a flicker of motion, too fast to follow. His stomach twisted, but when he blinked, the movement was gone.

It was probably nothing. Just nerves, he thought, shaking his head as though it would somehow leave by force.

But the feeling didn't leave him. As the engines roared to life and the convoy rumbled toward the pass, it began.

The first growl came just as the sun dipped below the horizon.

".... I won't die. Not today!"