Every moment they heard Deepnest's empty echoing; every moment they ached from Her burns; every moment the melted memories of the dead and diseased ran through the the channels carved through their mind, they knew.
It was a part of them. Another thrum of pain. Another skitter in the webbing around them.
It was ever-present. Through this, it became a part of the background, ignorable in their spirals of unavoidable thoughts.
Through its sacrifice Hallownest lasts eternal.
The text cuts deeper than any other reminder or blade could ever come close.
This should not be. It should have been destroyed.
Their claws spasm around their Nail's hilt, a wild urge rising to do just so. Destroy the false monument that stands where Father's palace didn't. Fix it.
They must--
--they should--
--they--
--their vision is blocked. A clear order slices through internal chaos.
They look.
Their grip goes slack.
...There is no need.
The Hollow Knight was not intended to have emotion, and certainly never to act on them. That they are deeply flawed atop existing should be no shock.
It doesn't matter.
It doesn't matter. The memorial--the word alone is sickening--the memorial sickening them doesn't matter. The memorial standing doesn't matter.
The Hollow Knight will do what scraps of what they were made for remain.
They will not fail again, and bring further ruin two things that continue to exist for the sake of their emotion.
One: the Fountain, still functioning and a monument to the Pale King's design, no matter how flawed.
Two: the bug in front of them. Uninfected. Verbose enough to command. Observant enough to respond to their pitiful reaction. Alive. Alive. This one did not die from their failure.
The Hollow Knight is still. Their own actions have been continuous mistakes. There is nothing they need do.
Of greater importance: there is nothing they should.
no subject
Every moment they heard Deepnest's empty echoing; every moment they ached from Her burns; every moment the melted memories of the dead and diseased ran through the the channels carved through their mind, they knew.
It was a part of them. Another thrum of pain. Another skitter in the webbing around them.
It was ever-present. Through this, it became a part of the background, ignorable in their spirals of unavoidable thoughts.
Through its sacrifice Hallownest lasts eternal.
The text cuts deeper than any other reminder or blade could ever come close.
This should not be. It should have been destroyed.
Their claws spasm around their Nail's hilt, a wild urge rising to do just so. Destroy the false monument that stands where Father's palace didn't. Fix it.
They must--
--they should--
--they--
--their vision is blocked. A clear order slices through internal chaos.
They look.
Their grip goes slack.
...There is no need.
The Hollow Knight was not intended to have emotion, and certainly never to act on them. That they are deeply flawed atop existing should be no shock.
It doesn't matter.
It doesn't matter. The memorial--the word alone is sickening--the memorial sickening them doesn't matter. The memorial standing doesn't matter.
The Hollow Knight will do what scraps of what they were made for remain.
They will not fail again, and bring further ruin two things that continue to exist for the sake of their emotion.
One: the Fountain, still functioning and a monument to the Pale King's design, no matter how flawed.
Two: the bug in front of them. Uninfected. Verbose enough to command. Observant enough to respond to their pitiful reaction. Alive. Alive. This one did not die from their failure.
The Hollow Knight is still. Their own actions have been continuous mistakes. There is nothing they need do.
Of greater importance: there is nothing they should.