The underground station beneath East Narrows was supposed to be decommissioned. Rusted rails, collapsed tunnels, and graffiti-tagged support beams painted a picture of neglect. But as Draven moved through the shadows, every step revealed the truth—this place was anything but abandoned.
Armed guards moved in coordinated patterns, outfitted with advanced optics and shock weaponry. Draven crouched behind a concrete pillar, watching. The cracked sun symbol—the same Evelyn had shown him—was spray-painted on the walls, etched into the crates, even stitched onto the shoulders of the guards' uniforms.
This was a Solace facility.
Evelyn's voice whispered in his earpiece. "I'm in. Network's crawling with firewalls, but I'm in. Sending schematics now."
A blueprint blinked across his visor. Below the station lay an experimental lab—Halcyon tech integrated with psychological warfare algorithms. Testing chambers. Restraint cells. And something labeled "Control Room Theta."
"What's in Theta?" he whispered.
"I don't know," Evelyn said. "But the encryption around it… it's military-grade."
That was enough.
Draven dropped from the catwalk silently, landing behind a patrol. One strike to the neck, then a twist—unconscious. He moved like smoke, weaving through the darkness, incapacitating guards with brutal efficiency. But then came the alarms.
He wasn't the only ghost in the tunnels.
Motion sensors picked up heat. A sentry turned—too fast. "Contact!"
Gunfire erupted. Draven rolled behind a steel beam as bullets sparked off metal. Smoke grenades hissed from his belt. Chaos flooded the chamber.
Evelyn's voice came again, laced with urgency. "They're activating lockdowns! You need to get to Theta—now!"
He sprinted down the stairwell, sliding beneath a descending shutter. Behind him, guards regrouped, forming a blockade. But Draven didn't stop. He kicked down a side door and plunged into a corridor of glass walls—test subjects. Some awake, others sedated. Each one had tubes in their arms, a helmet on their head, and expressions of horror frozen mid-scream.
Trauma harvesting. Just like before.
He pressed forward. A reinforced door barred his path. A retinal scanner blinked red.
"I need a way in," he barked.
"Give me ten seconds," Evelyn replied.
Draven slammed a guard's head into the wall as another came from behind. The delay was a trap. They wanted him stuck here.
"Three seconds—done! Go!"
The door slid open with a hiss.
Inside Control Room Theta, darkness reigned. Machines hummed, monitors flickered, and at the center stood a solitary figure. Tall. Pale. The cracked sun insignia stitched onto his armored coat. No mask. Just a face that looked too calm.
Solace.
"I've been expecting you," he said, turning slowly. His eyes were gray, soulless. "Draven. The vigilante they call the Hollow Knight. A poetic name. Hollow men always fall hardest."
"Where's the data?" Draven demanded.
"You mistake this for an intel op." Solace lifted a hand—and the lights flared.
The room shook.
A containment pod cracked open behind him. Something stepped out.
Not a man. Not a machine. A blend of both. Pulse's successor.
It stood seven feet tall, with white synthetic skin stretched over muscle-threaded plating. Red veins pulsed across its arms like lava under skin. Its face was blank, save for a surgical mask bolted to its jaw and glowing eyes that burned like fuses.
"Meet your evolution," Solace said. "Halcyon's latest design. Pain doesn't slow it. Fear doesn't touch it. It was made to kill you."
Draven didn't wait.
He charged.
The monster moved like lightning. Fists crashed into pillars. Walls cracked as the two collided in a blur of violence. Draven ducked a swipe, driving a blade into the creature's ribs—but it didn't even flinch. It grabbed him mid-spin and threw him into a console. Sparks exploded.
"You're obsolete," Solace taunted, watching with clinical detachment.
Draven coughed blood, then launched a grapnel to the ceiling, yanking himself up and over the monster. He dropped two EMP mines on its back—detonation followed.
The creature screeched, circuits shorting—but still, it stood.
It swung wildly, catching Draven with a backhand that cracked bone. He flew into a glass case, shards embedding into his armor.
"Draven!" Evelyn's voice shouted in his ear. "I'm coming in—"
"No," he growled, spitting blood. "Just send the override."
She hesitated. "Are you sure?"
"Do it."
Draven rolled just as the creature charged. A final mine in his hand—he jammed it into the monster's spine. With Evelyn's override, the device activated.
The synthetic froze.
A pulse of energy rippled through the chamber. The monster seized, spasming violently. Its systems fried. Smoke poured from its mouth and eyes. Then—collapse.
Draven staggered to his feet. Solace hadn't moved.
"I'm not here for you yet," the man said. "But the next time we meet, knight… you'll see the truth."
And before Draven could reach him, Solace pressed a command button on his wrist—and vanished into smoke.
Draven stood amidst the wreckage, ribs fractured, blood leaking from his brow, body screaming. But he was still breathing.
The war wasn't over.
Not even close.
—
Elsewhere – Unknown Surveillance Room
The Harbinger watched the feed with mild amusement. "Solace failed."
"Expected," said the voice from the corner.
The Joker stepped into the flickering light, tapping a finger against his chin. "He thinks he's controlling the game."
"He's another pawn," the Harbinger replied.
Joker grinned wide. "Oh no. Pawns are boring. But sometimes, dear Harbinger…"
He leaned close to the monitor showing Draven limping away.
"You let the knight keep running… until his shadow becomes longer than his armor."