The monastery was dust. The Hollowed had devoured its remains, leaving behind nothing but a lingering sickness in the air. Selene Nocturna stood in the center of it all, her hood drawn low, her blackened lips curled in amusement.
"This world rots so beautifully."
She stepped forward, her boots crushing what little remained of the sacred ground beneath her. The bones of the fallen priests had melded into the earth, their prayers swallowed by her plague. There was no salvation here.
The Hollowed loomed around her, their soulless forms shifting like smoke, waiting for her next command.
"Not yet," she whispered. "We wait."
Her tongue ran across her teeth, savoring the faint traces of blood that still lingered. The scent of something new drifted on the cold wind—something familiar.
Selene turned her head slightly, the shadows around her twisting, parting just enough for her to see. The night was thick, but her vision was clearer than ever.
The name had crawled through her ears for far too long. She had ignored it at first—a whisper, a ghost, a fleeting nuisance. But the echoes had grown sharper, the rumors thicker. He had been tracking her, severing her influence, undoing her careful work.
And now, he had stepped into her web.
Selene exhaled slowly, her breath misting in the poisoned air. A dagger of bone emerged from her sleeve, its edges lined with blackened venom.
"Come, little hunter," she murmured, tilting her head to the side. "Come see what death truly means."
The Hollowed began to shift, their bodies melting into the shadows, waiting for the moment she would unleash them.
And then—the first gunshot rang out.
Selene snarled, twisting just as the bullet sliced past her shoulder, burning her flesh like silver fire. Her eyes flashed with something between rage and excitement.
So he had come prepared.
Another shot. She moved before it could find her, her body dissolving into a blur of blackened mist.
The Hollowed screeched, lunging toward the unseen attacker, but Selene raised a single hand.
She wanted this one for herself.
A shadow moved in the distance, shifting between the ruined stone columns—calculated, silent. He was good.
Selene lifted her hand, black veins pulsing at her wrist. The air grew heavier, thick with plague and rot.
"You think death frightens me, hunter?" she called out, her voice dripping with venom. "I am death."
The monastery's ruined remains twisted beneath her will, broken stone rising as if animated by her command.
Kruger had entered her domain.
And Selene Nocturna did not share her throne.
She smiled, stepping forward into the darkness.