Vessels Hollow Knight Novels & Stories

Evangeline swallowed, her throat raw. “The Outer Veil. We’re moving west, towards Aetherreach. The Hollow breached the inner sanctum less than an hour ago.” “I don’t even know what the Hollow is.” Evangeline’s chest tightened as Cassius met her unblinking and steady eyes “They are what was left when hope was ripped from something that used to be alive.” he replied, grumpily, as though forced to speak. "That’s not even an answer.” Evangeline blinked. “True, but it’s the only one that fits, goddess.” Selene shrugged.

At the altar sat a sealed obsidian vessel, faintly glowing red—the Blood of the Ashen Saint. As Bain and Seraphina approached, the ground trembled. With a sudden crack, humanoid figures burst from beneath the floorboards. Twisted, eyeless, and stitched together from fragments of failed Hollow experiments — failed children, abandoned vessels. “They’re Hollow Shells!” Elias shouted. Sokolov drew his twin blades while Vulture blasted one straight through the chest, sending it skidding across the stone. “They’re trying to stall us!” Seraphina cried. “They know we’re close!”

“Piano. Something slow. I think you played it once.” “I did. Before Eidolon, I taught for a while.” “That makes sense,” he said softly. “There’s something about your hands. Like they know both creation… and destruction.” That brought a tight laugh to my throat. “You don’t forget some things.” He didn’t answer, but when our fingers brushed as I handed him the canteen, he didn’t pull away. Small miracles. The Hollow was a concrete scar in the mountains. Once, it had relayed global signals through an array of underground servers. Now, it was dead—except for the chamber Paladin had marked in red ink. There, behind layers of steel and rock, lay a terminal unlike any I’d seen before.

I summoned a soft flame—silver-blue, gentle, flickering like moonlight—and held it in my palm. We moved deeper. The walls were covered in veins of black glass—smooth and reflective, like they’d once been molten. The path narrowed, then widened again into a chamber. And in the center stood a figure. Not alive. Not dead. It was a shell—stone and bone fused, shaped like a man, but hollow. A vessel. “What is that?” Kael whispered. “One of their anchors,” I said. “A conduit for blood magic.” Lira knelt beside it. “It's not active.”

I placed my thumb on the fingerprint scanner on the wall and the screen on the wall turned green. "Voice recognition—" "Ethan Frost," I cut it off. There was a three-second delay. "Welcome back, Master Ethan." A slight jolt and the elevator was on its way to sublevel 2. I closed my eyes and sighed. A pressing matter at hand. The peace had become fragile, and it was only a matter of time before different packs started pointing hands at each other. Death to the Moon Goddess' vessel. The statement was clear. The rogues had someone directly funding them.

It was a pathetic and undeniable craven existence but it was how they were winning the war. Dave let out a sigh. "No. He used a HG blade." I nodded. A brilliant man named Henry Gomez spent his life developing a UV spiked, but essentially silver based liquid that could be applied to any metallic object, leaving a coat of active poison that would kill both shade and host upon entering the their shared body. Something in perfectly balanced formula temporarily imprisoned the shade and as long as the wounds you inflicted on the human were mortal, the shade shared the same fate. The HG liquid had become as precious to us as light bulbs. It was hard to come by at the best of times, especially out h

Now it is filled with hundreds upon trillions of dead and decaying monstrosities who form towering spires of bone and blood. They traveled deep into the hellish landscape for many hours and to their surprise, they never encountered a single entity to fight within the gate. Many hours passed as the group stumbled upon a throne in a plateau of bone and skulls and Beside the throne was a monstrous blade made of flesh, bone, and blood one of the Knights tried to grasp the handle when it growled violently as it nearly tore off the knight's hand. The retinue felt a terrifying presence behind them and to their surprise, Kent is still alive but something was deeply wrong.

Anyone who was skilled in Ghastly Thirteen Needles would have capitalized on it already. This technique was a money-maker. “I said that I was familiar with it, but I never said I could execute it.” Kaze listed a bunch of terms callously. “Hollow Lock, Hollow Manor, Hollow Keep, Hollow Passage, Hollow Echo, Hollow Assembly, Hollow Cush, Hollow Core, Hollow Heart, Hollow Gait, Hollow Missive, Hollow Refuge, Hollow Vault, and Hollow Shadow.”

“It’s ours now.” The figure laughed. It was wet, wrong. “Then come and take it.” They raised a hand. The ground shuddered. From the shadows of the ravine, things moved. Not men. Not entirely. Their skin was pale, stretched tight over bone. Their eyes were empty, but they moved with purpose. Hollowborn. The Court’s foot soldiers. “Get ready,” Elena said. The first Hollowborn came fast. Elena met it with her blade, cutting through sinew and bone in one clean arc. It fell, but two more took its place.

I let a drop of blood fall on the mountaintop, and the infant spirits formed a line behind me. I gave the signal. "Tonight, we throw down with the enemies invading our turf!" The infant spirits buzzed like a swarm of angry bees. The Haunts had not shown up yet, but the wind was already messing with the folks on the street. One gust and poof! Their bones turned to dust. All that was left was a hollow shell with eyes wide open as they collapsed to the ground. More onlookers came, and the wind took them too. This time, not even the bone was left.