Cain's heartbeat pounded in his ears as the Hollow Watcher's voice faded into the silence. The figure sat motionless upon the massive stone throne, its armor cracked with age, yet pulsing with an eerie blue light from within. The sheer presence of the being weighed upon the air like a physical force, pressing down on him, making every breath feel heavier.
He forced himself to stand tall, gripping the rusted metal rod at his side, though he knew it was useless. If this thing wanted him dead, he wouldn't stand a chance. The mist outside the chamber had recoiled, as if afraid to encroach upon this space, and the ruined architecture around them felt older, untouched by time.
Cain swallowed against the dryness in his throat. "What do you mean… Vessel?" His voice came out steadier than he expected, but he could feel the tension creeping into his limbs, his body caught between fear and something else—something deeper, something pulling him toward this place.
The Hollow Watcher did not immediately answer. The glowing fissures in its armor pulsed faintly, as if responding to some unseen rhythm, its unseen gaze locked onto him. Then, slowly, the figure lifted a hand, its gauntleted fingers moving with an almost mechanical precision. The air between them shimmered, and suddenly, Cain's vision fractured.
A wave of heat surged through his skull, and then the chamber was gone.
Darkness swallowed him whole, and in its place came memories that were not his own.
He stood in a city of titanic proportions, where the sky burned with unnatural fire. Colossal figures moved through the streets—Titans, towering beings with bodies of stone and molten veins of energy running through their forms. Their voices echoed like rolling thunder, their steps shaking the very foundations of the world.
And then—war.
The vision lurched, and Cain saw flames consuming the great halls of the Titans, their towering structures crumbling beneath the weight of destruction. The sky split apart as something vast descended from above—not human, not Titan, something else entirely.
Betrayal.
A feeling, raw and absolute, crashed over him like a tidal wave. A force beyond comprehension turned against the Titans, sealing them away, erasing them from history. The mighty beings fell one by one, their bodies becoming the very ruins that now littered the Abyss.
The vision blurred, and Cain suddenly found himself standing before a bound Titan, its form fractured and broken, chains of glowing light digging deep into its flesh. Its eyes—burning pools of golden energy—locked onto him.
It spoke, but its voice was not a sound. It was a weight, pressing into the very fabric of his being.
"You are the last vessel. The last echo of our kind."
Cain gasped, his mind snapping back into his own body. The chamber reformed around him, the cold stone beneath his feet grounding him in the present. His breathing came in short, ragged bursts, his hands trembling at his sides.
The Hollow Watcher's voice rumbled through the silence.
"You have seen it."
Cain's mouth felt dry. The heat in his veins had not faded—it pulsed stronger now, like something inside him had awakened in response to the vision. His hands curled into fists.
"The Titans…" He swallowed. "They didn't just die. They were erased."
The Hollow Watcher nodded slowly, the blue light in its visor flickering. "And now, their remnants stir once more."
Cain clenched his jaw. The weight of the revelation pressed down on him, but beneath the confusion, beneath the fear, something else had taken root.
Anger.
All his life, he had been told the Titans were monsters. That they had brought ruin to the world. That the Abyss was their prison for crimes too great to name.
But that was a lie.
He took a step forward. "Why am I a Vessel? What does that mean?"
The Hollow Watcher studied him for a long moment. Then, with deliberate slowness, it raised its hand again. A faint glow radiated from the cracks in its armor, and for a moment, Cain felt something shift inside him—a connection, a tether to something ancient.
"Your blood carries the remnants of what was lost. The Titans' strength lingers within you, buried, waiting." The Watcher's voice darkened. "But power alone does not make a Titan. Power alone does not make you worthy."
Cain felt the pulse within his veins—raw energy humming beneath his skin, aching to be released. He didn't fully understand it, but something in his bones recognized it.
The Hollow Watcher leaned forward slightly, the weight of its presence growing heavier. "The Abyss watches you, Vessel. The old world stirs."
A deep, echoing sound rumbled from beyond the chamber. The mist outside shifted violently, as if disturbed by something vast moving through it.
The Hollow Watcher straightened. "They come."
Cain turned sharply. The air had grown colder, the unnatural silence of the Abyss broken by a slow, rhythmic thumping. The sound sent vibrations through the stone beneath his feet.
Footsteps. Massive ones.
The Hollow Watcher stood, the blue glow in its armor intensifying. "If you seek to survive, you must awaken what lies within."
Cain's heart pounded. The chamber felt smaller now, the weight of the unknown pressing down from all sides.
"What is coming?" His voice was low, steady, despite the storm raging inside him.
The Hollow Watcher turned its gaze toward the mist beyond the archway.
"The Forgotten Ones."
A deafening roar tore through the Abyss, closer now, and Cain instinctively reached for his weapon, though he knew it would be useless. Whatever was out there wasn't just another one of the twisted creatures lurking in the ruins.
The Hollow Watcher stepped forward, raising one hand toward Cain. Energy flared around its fingers, and for a split second, Cain felt it—the same energy burning within him, resonating with the power that had been buried deep inside.
A choice.
A path forward.
The moment stretched, and then the Hollow Watcher spoke one final time.
"Decide, Vessel. Will you claim your strength, or will you be devoured by what comes?"
Cain's grip tightened around his weapon, his breath steady despite the terror clawing at the edges of his mind.
He already knew the answer.
As the shadows in the mist shifted and the weight of something ancient crashed down upon the ruins, he clenched his fists.
Whatever lay ahead, he would face it.
And he would not break.