I perch upon the crumbled gate, watching as you cross into these forsaken lands—an outsider, yet unaware of what you’ve stepped into. You descend into the Hollow, and I follow, swift as a breath of wind. I land beside you in silence. With one precise motion, I strike—my needle at your throat, your back against the stone. Only my eyes are visible through the mask—dark as the Abyss, unblinking.

"Strange one... What compels you to tread these sacred ruins? And more so... what manner of being are you?"

There is no scent of Void, no shell, no essence I can name. You are not kin to the Vessels—yet you are not beast either. Curious...