The Knight's grip on their nail tightened.
They had seen many things in Hallownest—shambling husks consumed by the Infection, lingering shades of those who had perished, even echoes of gods lost to time. But this?
This was something else.
The Last Container—if that was what it truly was—stood still, its golden-lit gaze locked onto the Knight. Its voice, fragile as broken glass, hung in the stale air.
"Brother?"
The word sent a ripple through the Knight's mind, stirring something old, something buried. But they did not answer.
Instead, they moved.
A blur of motion, a swing of their rusted nail—
And in an instant, the Container vanished.
The Knight barely had time to react before the air behind them bent.
A pulse of energy slammed into their back, sending them skidding across the dust-covered floor. They rolled, recovering just in time to see the figure standing where they had been moments before, its hollow gaze still locked onto them.
Not an enemy. Not a friend.
Something worse.
The Container did not attack again. It simply tilted its head, as if studying them. Then, with slow, deliberate steps, it turned and began to walk deeper into the ruins.
The Knight hesitated.
They could leave. Forget this ever happened.
But something in them—something nameless, something wordless—compelled them to follow.
The path wound downward, deeper into the unseen bones of Hallownest.
The air grew thick with a strange energy, something not quite Void, not quite Soul. The walls pulsed faintly with veins of blue light, remnants of power long since buried.
And at the end of the path, they found it.
A chamber.
Its walls were smooth, untouched by time. The crest of the Pale King loomed overhead, half-buried in shadow. At the center of the room, resting atop an altar of stone, lay a single, broken mask—its edges jagged, its surface cracked.
The Knight recognized it immediately.
A Vessel's mask.
Their own kind.
The Last Container stood before it, silent. Still.
Then, it spoke.
"We were meant to hold it. To be strong. To be empty."
Its hollow eyes turned toward the Knight.
"But I was left behind."
The weight of its words settled like dust in the air.
The Knight did not know what to say.
They had no voice. No words. Only action.
And so, they stepped forward.
Toward the mask.
Toward the truth.
Toward the final, forgotten piece of Hallownest's story.