The Hollow Knights advance.

Three against four—but these are not ordinary enemies. Each Knight moves with terrible precision, their blades cutting through the air in patterns that seem to anticipate your every move.

“Spread out!” Mira shouts. “Don’t let them corner us!”

You split into pairs. Mira and Theron take the left. You and Wren take the right. The Knights separate to match, gliding across the cobblestones like shadows with substance.

The one facing you is larger than the others. Its armor is older, more ornate, decorated with symbols that make your eyes hurt to look at directly.

“A VETERAN,” it says in that grinding voice. “BOUND BEFORE THE FOUNDERS FELL. I WATCHED SERAPHINE DIE. I FELT HER SOUL TORN FROM HER BODY.”

It swings. You barely dodge.

“I WILL WATCH YOU DIE TOO.”

The relics flare. Seraphine’s Quill traces weakness in the Knight’s armor—gaps where the binding frays, where three centuries of service have worn the connection thin. You see it now, glowing like a fault line in stone.

“Wren! The left pauldron!”

She moves without question, vines exploding from her hands to wrap around the Knight’s shoulder. It stumbles, off-balance, and you strike—driving your blade into the gap the Quill revealed.

The Knight screams. Not anger, but something else. Something almost like relief.

“THANK YOU,” it whispers as the shadow pours out. And for just a moment, you see a face inside—a man’s face, weeping, finally free.

Then it’s gone. The armor collapses, empty.

“One down!” Mira’s voice carries across the square. She and Theron have engaged their Knight, keeping it busy. The third circles, looking for an opening.

“Two to go,” you breathe. “Keep moving!”