Chapter 3:The Hollow Ones

The creature moved like a spider with its legs cut off—jerky, twitching, but impossibly fast.

Theodora barely had time to raise her dagger before it was upon her. The thing’s fingers—too long, too many joints—closed around her throat. Its breath reeked of opened graves and sour honey.

*"Little key,"* it crooned, its voice the sound of nails dragged across slate. *"You will open the way."*

Alexios’ sword flashed in the green torchlight. The blade bit deep into the creature’s arm, black ichor spraying across the tunnel walls. It shrieked, a sound that vibrated in Theodora’s teeth, and recoiled.

She didn’t hesitate. Her dagger found its eye—or where an eye should have been. The thing howled, flailing back into the shadows.

"Run!" Alexios grabbed her arm, yanking her toward the bone door.

Theodora shook him off. "No." She wiped the black blood from her dagger. "We came for answers. We’re getting them."

The tunnel trembled. From the darkness behind them came a wet, clicking sound—like countless insect legs skittering over stone.

Alexios paled. "There’s more of them."

Theodora turned toward the bone door. The mark on her palm burned like a brand. Without thinking, she pressed it against the yellowed femur handle.

The door *screamed*.

Not metaphorically. The bones shuddered, vibrating with an unearthly wail that sent cracks spiderwebbing across the tunnel walls. The femur handle twisted beneath her grip, the door swinging inward with a groan of long-dead things stirring.

Beyond lay a chamber that defied reason.

The walls pulsed like living flesh, veined with glowing green filaments. The ceiling arched into impossible angles, as if the very stone had forgotten how to obey gravity. And at the center, floating three feet above a dais carved with blasphemous runes, hung a crown—twisted black metal set with a single, pulsing red gem.

The whispers in Theodora’s skull became a roar.

*"Take it."*

Alexios grabbed her shoulder. "Don’t! That’s the Diadem of—"

The skittering from the tunnel became a crescendo. Theodora spun to see dozens of the emaciated creatures pouring from the darkness, their too-wide mouths gaping.

She made her choice.

In one fluid motion, she snatched the crown from the air.

The world *split*.

For a heartbeat, Theodora existed everywhere at once—standing in the chamber, kneeling in the Hagia Sophia, burning at the stake in some forgotten village square. She saw the fall of cities that had not yet been built, heard the death cries of emperors not yet born.

Then—silence.

The creatures froze mid-lunge. The chamber held its breath.

The crown in Theodora’s hands hummed with terrible power. The red gem pulsed in time with her heartbeat.

*"Mine,"* whispered a voice that was not hers.

The largest of the creatures—its head crowned with jagged bone spurs—sank to its knees.

*"Queen of Ashes,"* it rasped. *"You have come home."*

Behind her, Alexios made a sound like a dying man. Theodora turned to see him staring past her, his face slack with horror.

She followed his gaze.

The chamber’s far wall had become transparent, revealing a vast cavern beyond. And in that cavern, writhing in chains of molten gold, was something with too many wings and eyes that saw too much.

It looked at her.

And it *smiled*.

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