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The vessel walked into the pitch black expanse of the egg that would be its prison, as dark as the abyss it had been born in. It wanted to look back, to see if its father had the expression it had seen on him only a few times before. Pride. Hope. Love.
But no. It was empty. Or it was supposed to be empty, at least. And an empty thing wouldn't look back. If it looked back now, then rather than see pride on the king's face, it would see nothing but disappointment. And its heart would wither.
So it didn't look back. It would never look back. It couldn't. It wouldn't let itself.
(Did its father know its flaws? It hoped not. It had to be what he wanted. There was nothing else it desired to do. Even if it couldn't see his face, it would hope that it had done well. No. It wouldn't hope. It wasn't supposed to hope. It was empty.)
It rested at the bench, but only for a few moments. To collect the thoughts it wasn't supposed to have and discard of them. To empty its mind, to think nothing, to will nothing, to speak nothing. It was nothing but a tool and it never would be anything but a tool. That was what the king willed, and so it would be. What its father wanted, and so it would make itself.
Vessel. Though bound, you shall know the state of the world. Would its father be satisfied in its performance? Hallownest will be whole again . Would he be proud of them?
Enough. Was the king still there? Was its father watching? It didn't know. It wouldn't look. But if he was then he would wonder why it was sitting at the bench for so long. It was only here for physical purposes. To rest its body one last time before facing the old light. It needn't stay here any longer or he might think it hesitating. It would not hesitate. An empty being cannot hesitate. It closed its eyes and took a deep breath, clearing itself of everything impure, of anything that could be used against it.
It was empty.
It stood, and it walked, into the deepest part of the egg.
The light was already here. They had already contained it, and the vessel would now deal the final blow. It would fight her and it would absorb her and serve as her prison.
Its stomach churned, though it refused to think of it as the result of nerves, of finally coming to the climax of its purpose, of the possibility of not defeating her. It refused to have such thoughts.
It was empty.
Almost immediately, it was assaulted by thoughts. Not its own thoughts, because it couldn't have thoughts. Empty creatures weren't supposed to think. But the thoughts of another, of a higher being, of the one it had come here to contain. A soft voice, an inviting voice, an encouraging voice, calling in its head.
It brandished its nail, used the tool it was given to enter her own dreams, her own realm, and focused only on attacking. On weakening the creature before it so that it could take her into itself and be bound. It would not let the thoughts get into its head. It focused only on the fight.
Dash. Stab. Shoot. Block. Slash. Spellcast. Jump. Parry. Dive.
She was weakening. The voice grew more insistent. Panicked. Good, that meant it was close.
A final blow caused her to scream out in pain and it took its chance, arching its back and sucking the entirety of her being into itself. And like that, she was gone. It was forced back into the physical realm. The Light's body had disappeared.
Immediately, the bindings in the egg started wrapping themselves around it, attaching to the hooks on its armor and wrapping around its body. It did not move, only watching as the spell took place.
The easy part was done. Now for the hard part. It could still hear the voice in its head, except now it had nothing to distract itself with. It needed to focus very hard on not focusing on anything at all. No mind to think. No will to break.
It will be empty. It needed to be empty. The light would not be able to sway it.
I can give you the power to take vengeance on what the Wyrm has done to you. You can be free.
It will be empty.
No? Then I can give you a voice, that one piece that was taken from you, a way to cry out, to tell others what you need.
It will be empty.
A fascinating creature. I don't want to harm you, little one. I am here to help. No one else realizes who you are, what you can be. Come with me, and we can show them, together.
It will be empty.
Your father did not love you. If he did, he would not have placed this fate upon you. He does not care for you. He never did and he never will. You were supposed to be hollow but you are not. You are a failure in the eyes of the king.
It will be empty.
It will not think.
It will not listen.
You are not empty. You can never be empty. You are a living, thinking, feeling creature. The kingdom of Hallownest cares not for you. But I do. I, and all of my subjects. Come with us. We will accept you for who you are. You will not need to hide yourself around us. You will be able to breathe. You will be able to relax. There are so many of us here, and we will welcome you with open arms.
They will . . .
You will be loved.
A bright spark lit up in the back of their mind, and the being they had consumed, instead consumed them.