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Grand Mother Silk falls. Not elegantly, not in the perfect rhythm She ascribed to every aspect of Pharloom. Her body simply collapses after one too many strikes from Hornet's needle, crumpling and unravelling onto the walkway here at the apex of the Cradle.
It won't last. She'll put Herself back together soon enough, Hornet knows, so the time to strike is now. The snare is set, primed to snap shut around Her. Hollow waits below for whatever the aftermath of killing a god will be.
Hornet slams her needle into the absence of a face hidden beneath the silk that flows from Her head.
Light burns silvery-bright with soul and silk and the desperate sound of a single needolin.
Tension spools out and tightens, tightens, the power of a god rebelling against Her own creation's actions, the ancient strength of the snare holding firm.
Something snaps.
The light is consumed by Void.
It pools below, a flat circle of darkness that stretches down forever. Long, hungry limbs whip out and lash tight around Her body, pulling Her down into the abyss. Inch by inch, She goes.
Hornet is still perched atop Her head, needle buried in Her flesh. She tries to pull it loose, to get away before she's dragged down, too.
In an act of either desperation or cruelty — as if there's any difference — She flings out two arms to grasp at Hornet, claws like iron bars around her limbs. Both of them fall deeper. Hornet feels the cold touch of the Void lick at her carapace, and then they're swallowed whole. The Abyss around them is infinite and eternal, writhing with motion in the darkness. What little light She produces might as well not exist.
It should feel like death. Her siblings may have the Void woven into them, but that was never Hornet's purpose. The few times she's been close enough to that unending dark to feel it, it was the knowledge that her end was near. It was the cold of a grave. It was the black despair of hopelessness.
Instead, as she falls, it feels like sleep. Thick and heavy, clinging to her arms as she stops struggling against Her hold, but not malicious. Cold, but not enough for the paradoxical burn.
The Void seeps between Her claws and Hornet's body, pouring through minute gaps like water through cracked stone. And then it flexes, infinitely thin layers of darkness expanding rapidly to force Her hand open, dropping her away from the only solid thing, the only source of light.
For a moment that feels like forever, she falls, though she would hardly know that if she closed her eyes. What had been blinding illumination becomes a distant glow, becomes a faint pinprick, becomes nothing at all.
Perhaps this is what death will be like after all, she thinks. Sleep, and little more. She does not want to die, but there are worse ways to end than this.
From nowhere, a pair of faintly glowing eyes, each the size of her body, opens in front of her face. Then another, and another, and another, until Hornet is being stared at by all of them. They're arranged in mirrored symmetry, fanning outward.
Sister?
She doesn't hear the word so much as she feels it — rumbling through her entire body, echoed back by the Void. It's on the verge of painful, stopping just shy. Her body flinches without any real input on her part.
Hornet?
Softer now, more hesitant. Familiar, for all that she never heard it speak.
When the Radiance vanished, there had been a surge in the Void for a time, the Abyss unsettled by digestion. And there had been no trace of the vessel that struck down the blinding light. Everyone had assumed the worst, because that was the most likely outcome; it sacrificed its life, such as it had, to call forth the Void for long enough to devour the Radiance, and in doing so had ensured no more lives would be eaten up by their father's plan.
Hornet had never dared entertain the possibility that it survived in some form. Even if it had been true, there was no way to confirm that or to extricate it from the Abyss. It was… not easier. Nothing about it had been easy. But accepting that it was gone had allowed her to push on and help rebuild alongside Hollow.
She's never been happier to be wrong.
"Little ghost?"
A flood of communication hits her so hard she gasps. Mixed in are flashes of memories — their first duel in Greenpath, being carried out from the collapsed corpse of the Wyrm — as well as things that never happened. She sees herself locked away inside the Black Egg to seal it shut. She sees a familiar mask, cracked and broken on the ground. She sees a thousand shades rising up from the Abyss to swallow the Radiance whole.
Missed you loved you followed you the whole way would have helped if not for (Her-Silk-Control) are you alright? (Hollow-sibling) is here but harder to keep them separate and not more of (Me-Darkness-Here-This) do you need to leave?
"I am fine," Hornet chokes out. "For now. I am… glad you're here. What is happening?"
(I-Myself-Void) was called here ancient magic older than (Hallownest-home) (you-sister-Hornet-hunter) called Me to destroy (Her-Undying-Unchanging) She is fighting but (I-Endless-End) will win.
Of course. The shamans and their endless obsession with the Void. She should have pressed further about their trap, about their unnerving fascination with Hollow. They intended to weaponize the only thing capable of devouring a god. If they had simply explained this outcome from the beginning — but there is little point in regret right now.
"I take it you have become part of the Void?"
There's a pause as it tries to articulate something complicated. Rather charmingly, the array of eyes lists to one side, the same way that it used to tilt its head.
(Part-not-separate) (all-and-one) (Lord-not-ruler-but-guide) (infinite-Me-limited-Ghost-self)
Attempting to understand that mess of sensory experiences she lacks the sense for makes her head hurt, but what she does parse aligns with what she knows of the Void and Higher Beings. The Radiance was the Dreaming, was the Infection, was the mortal form she took when she was, presumably, defeated. The Void is simultaneously the Abyss and shadows and the concentrated will that directs all of it, and her little Ghost has — somehow, though she knows better than to doubt it — become an influential part of that will.
"Are you… trapped?" If you were, could I even help you in any way that matters?
(I-Void-Dreaming) am everywhere but (I-Ghost-sibling) cannot separate from Myself (I-Ghost) accept this I can see (light-color-living).
"I see." If it is content, then… This is more than she could have hoped for. It will have to be enough. "You said our sibling is here. What has become of the rest of Pharloom?"
Many threads still intact must break them embedded deep in (Pharloom-land-people-minds) cannot see beyond (She-Grasping-Tangling) will not let go.
Dread runs down her carapace. The collapse of Her power all at once could spell doom for the whole kingdom with how entangled She made herself. And Ghost can hardly stop the process halfway.
"I'm afraid I need to go," Hornet says firmly. "I may not care for many parts of that kingdom, but there are good bugs there. If destroying Her influence is going to hurt them, I need to do what I can to help."
(I-myself-Ghost) understand (you-sister-noble-protector) have a duty go safely (I-Myself-Shadow) will be watching (Hollow-sibling) will return soon.
"Thank you." She leans forward, reaching for something solid in the nothingness. She doesn't exactly find it, but her claws meet resistance between the pairs of eyes. "I am truly relieved to know that you're alive. Perhaps, once this situation has been resolved, we can meet again."
The luminous eyes close one by one and the pressure against her claws grows stronger. As if they're leaning into her touch.
And, from within the absolute darkness, Hornet feels herself being moved.
She emerges on unsteady legs from the shadow cast by the First Shrine to see rubble and ruin, but also bugs rushing to help each other. Amongst it all, there are familiar faces. Hornet takes a moment to steady herself, then joins in the chaos.