Bleach Hollow World Novels & Stories

Mason felt Bramble recoil beside him. Then something changed. The black crack in the chamber wall opened. The Hollow. Except it was small. Barely more than shadow. Liora looked at it. The shadow reached toward her. Evander shouted, “Don’t touch it!” Liora reached anyway. The moment her fingers entered the darkness— every stolen memory hit her. Thousands. Grief. Love. Fear. Names. Children. Homes. Lives. Liora screamed. The Hollow exploded outward.

She comes to a halt and a trace of despair appears on her face. "What is it, exactly? What made you ground to a standstill? Was there a problem? or did you just wake up?" When she noticed her friend's countenance change suddenly, the short-haired girl asked. "I witnessed a battle... I also hear occasional crying from children and adults, as well as fighting noise; every scene appears to be extremely real." She looks out the glass window while she continues to speak "After that, everything goes black, and I hear a voice before I wake up."

She carefully turned her neck to the direction of the front doors where just by the side stood a man whose silhouette bore a striking resemblance to Jaxon, one she could pick out even in the darkness of the night. He was just—older. His father, she realized. The look he gave her was dark, piercing and deliberate, freezing her in place. “Oh dear,” Naomi started again. “Are you cold? You are freezing. I will get you a jacket. Do you want one?” Upon seeing Kallista's lack of response, Naomi Hawthorne followed the direction of her gaze. “Oh for the love of God,” she muttered and then yelled out, “Cillian drop the daggers! And come on, let's go home.”

“Gods… Ragnor, that’s—” “The Hollow.” My voice came out as a low growl, steady despite the icy dread crawling up my spine. Valkyrie turned to me, her eyes searching mine for confirmation—for denial. But I had none to give. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “It can’t be.” It was. The Hollow was more than just a spirit. It was a force beyond this world, a parasite that didn’t just consume bodies—it devoured souls, leaving nothing but an empty, twisted husk behind. A fate worse than death.

Their song is still echoing in my mind. I close my hand around the baetyl stone and rip it from my neck. It is warm in my hands. With all of the strength I have left, I push it into the soil. Veins of light spread out from the stone, and I let my wind die down. The Hollow Choir is inching away from the light, but they aren’t fast enough, and the light consumes them. Their bodies contort and writhe as they disappear into the ground below, leaving behind only their tattered shrouds. I let out a sigh of relief and fall onto my back. Clouds begin to form in the sky above, and rain falls on the Dark Realm. Morvathuun is gone. I am sure of it. Moranyth can rise again.

“The Hollow is near.” They crested a ridge, and beyond it, nestled in a glade shrouded in mist and snow, lay ancient ruins. Black stone pillars jutted from the earth like broken teeth. Vines coiled around archways inscribed with runes Lyra couldn’t read, but somehow felt. This was it. The Hollow. A place older than blood, older than Alpha lines, older even than the curse. Kaelen motioned her forward, but paused before crossing the threshold.

Hayley braced both hands on the handle and shoved harder. Crunch! And then, the thing went still. The zombie was fast, but she was faster and stronger. The shovel had sunk an inch deep into the reinforced concrete wall. It was the kind of strike no normal person could've managed, let alone pull the shovel free again. Hayley yanked the shovel loose with one sharp tug. She twisted the blade inside the zombie's skull, then pulled it out clean. A small, glassy stone clattered onto the ground. She grabbed a bottle of water from her inventory and rinsed it off. At once, it revealed a pale, translucent, and faintly glowing crystal.

Morwen’s hands shook as she drew a new one in her own blood. Veyra chanted, voice trembling, offering her animus like a sacrifice. They placed fresh relics,black crystals, bone shards, and a lock of hair wrapped in silver thread into the center. They were trying to rebind the Hollow. To force it back under their control. I almost laughed. They didn’t understand. The Hollow wasn’t a tool. It was a consequence. And consequences don’t obey liars. I left them there, bleeding and begging in the dark, and returned to my dorm.

It was a **Pulse**. Elara knelt, pressing her palm to the black lilies. Her violet eyes flared. "The Countdown," she whispered. "It’s accelerating. The 'Final Format' has reached the base of the mountains. The world outside is being deleted in real-time." She looked out over the cliff. Beyond their border, the forest was gone. In its place was a vast, terrifying **White Void**. The world was being eaten by a blank screen, and the Iron Mountain was the last island left in a sea of nothingness.

I looked at her quickly. “What is it trying to do?” Her expression turned grim. “The Hollows feed on opened spirit gates.” Cold dread spread through me instantly. “And what exactly is a spirit gate?” Lyra didn’t answer immediately. Which was never a good sign. Finally she whispered: “You.” Nope. Absolutely not. I was getting extremely tired of being magical problems. The Hollow suddenly exploded from the ocean again. Its giant body slammed onto the side of the ship while red eyes locked directly onto mine. Everyone screamed.