Deep within the stronghold of the Cult of Diablos, another conflict was brewing.
The high priests gathered in a grand hall, their robes embroidered with symbols of the old gods. At the center of the room, a lone figure knelt before them, their hands bound in glowing chains.
It was an informant. One who had tried to infiltrate Shadow Garden.
A cult elder stepped forward. "Tell us what you know of the Hollow Emperor."
The informant trembled. "H-he is unlike anything we've ever faced. He bends the darkness to his will as if he were born of it."
Another priest scoffed. "A mere illusion. No such entity can exist."
The informant shook his head violently. "You don't understand… He's real."
The room fell silent.
Then, a new voice echoed from the entrance.
"Perhaps I can shed some light on this matter."
A figure in silver and violet robes strode into the chamber. His face was partially obscured by a golden mask, and his presence sent a chill down the spines of the priests.
One of the elders gasped. "The Prophet…"
The newcomer chuckled. "Yes. And I have seen the truth of the Hollow Emperor."
He spread his arms wide. "He is a fraud."
The priests murmured in confusion.
The Prophet continued, his voice steady. "The true Hollow Emperor has yet to awaken. This Shadow is nothing more than a man who stumbled upon an old power. He is a pretender, and it is our duty to cast him down."
The priests exchanged glances. Doubt had begun to take root.
The Prophet smirked. Perfect. Let the war for the throne begin.