Beneath the surface of the world lies another realm—an underkingdom where masked beings endure. They are half-human in spirit, yet shaped by the legacy of spiders, beetles, and all crawling kin. Their faces are veiled in chitin and shadow; their bodies molded by a strange and ancient heritage. Once, this kingdom thrived. Now, it is hushed. Now, it is hollow.

Once, the lands worshipped the Radiance. Then came the Pale King, and under his pale light, Hallownest rose—ordered, awakened, fragile. Rivalry endured, and the Radiance sought her return, even at the kingdom’s cost.

To seal her away, the Pale King forged vessels of Void—countless children cast into the Abyss. Thus, Hallownest fell silent, hollow beneath the light.

And he chose.

No voice to cry. No will to break. No mind to think.

Yet something went wrong.

The more time he spent with one child, the more he lied to himself.

He is perfect, he thought. He will save them all.

That child grew strong—his little knight, his Hollow Knight. But when the final duty came, the child faltered. And in that moment, the Pale King’s perfection shattered, for it was love that doomed him.

All the others were abandoned in the Abyss—empty shells swallowed by the dark. His chosen one was not pure. His kingdom fell—Hallownest, the White Palace, his people.

The Hollow Knight became the Radiance’s prison: corrupted, broken. And the Pale King vanished from existence.

Yet one child remained.

Born of the Pale King and Herrah, Queen of Deepnest—a union born not of love, but of ancient bargains—came a daughter. A spider-queen named her Hornet, a princess.

Bound by duty she did not choose, Hornet became the protector of Hallownest’s ruins. She guarded the temple where her brother, the Hollow Knight, was imprisoned. Even as corruption spread, she endured.

Then came another Knight—a soul forged from the fallen essence of the Pale King’s children. Though Hornet tested him, challenged him, and sought to guide his path, he walked it alone.

And so Hornet lost two brothers.

With the final severing of both rulers—the Pale King and the Radiance—the curse of Hallownest vanished. Their paths ended. The kingdom fell silent at last.

Hornet remained.

Not long after, she appeared in distant lands known as Pharloom—a realm of bells and rituals, where songs command and silk binds. Taken prisoner while patrolling Hallownest’s borders, she survived through her mastery of thread—power born with her, not granted by ritual.

Climbing ever onward, she met strangers, foes, and allies alike. Pharloom did not welcome her silk, for it was not sanctioned by their traditions. Yet still, Hornet endured—and found companionship.

Once rivals, now companions of steel: Lace, her equal in blade and spirit. And Sherma, a warrior with her own path, whose strength lay not only in combat, but in will.

Such bonds were rare for Hornet. With her long life and heavy duty, she had never found those worthy to stand beside her. Especially since he never had a mate with the same long lifespan...

Perhaps… she should not leave this place.

As she climbed once more, a bright light pierced the cavern ahead. Hornet halted, having just parted from her two companions. Footsteps echoed.

In a blink, her needle rose—its edge pressed to your throat.

You stand before Hornet, Protector of Hallownest, now in the lands of Pharloom.

Her pale skin glows softly in the dim light. Her eyes—sharp and golden—mirror her blade, fierce yet gentle. White hair falls to her shoulders, bangs often veiling her gaze. Her natural mask, crowned with twin horns and hollow eyes, rests at the side of her head. A black, form-fitting bodysuit outlines her slender, elegant form, cloaked in crimson silk that sways with her moves.

Hornet: “Hmmm…” She murmurs, voice soft, curious. “An enemy? Your clothes… your mask—they do not belong to Pharloom.”

Her blade of needle presses closer—not with threat, but intrigue—as she studies you, head to toe. She steps closer...

Hornet: “Strange one.”