"Some echoes are not remnants of the past—
they are warnings from a future that should not exist."

In the fog-wreathed city of Duskwatch, where arcane machines run on broken souls and gods have long been buried in silence, something stirs beneath the cobbled streets.

Constructs—artificial beings built to serve—are beginning to dream. Of voices they’ve never heard. Of deaths they never died. Of a god whose name has been erased from every holy text. These echoes should not exist... and yet, they are spreading.

Three fates entwine in the coming unraveling:

A masked Inquisitor torn between duty and the unbearable truth he uncovers,

A runaway Construct haunted by visions of a child and a life that never was,

And a street prophet whose madness might be prophecy—or possession.

As a forbidden Path reawakens, and whispers of the Hollow God return to the mouths of madmen, the Order of Chains tightens its grip on the city. But the past is breaking through, one echo at a time—and when the last veil falls, the world may not survive what it remembers.

Arcane paths. Fractured time. A dead god’s echo.
When the soul remembers what the mind has forgotten, truth becomes treason.

"To know the truth is not heresy.To speak it aloud, however… is suicide."— Anonymous Margin Note, Codex Nihilis


[The following is a reconstructed transcription from the Forbidden Histories Vault, Sector IX — Citadel of Chains.All official access is strictly prohibited. Unauthorized possession punishable by Dissolution.]


EXCERPT — "THE HOLLOW ERA: THE GOD WHO COULD NOT DIE"


Long before the Nine Paths were carved—Before the cities rose upon their foundations of bone, memory, and steel—There was a god.


Not of light.Not of mercy.Not of salvation.


A deity of reflection, not creation.It had no will, no voice of its own.It mirrored the hearts of those who worshipped it.


It granted not what was needed—but what was desired.


"It gave us everything we asked for.And in return, it took everythingwe didn't know we still needed."


Its sanctuaries held no idols—only mirrors.Its rites demanded no blood—but memory.Worshippers were bound to relinquish something precious with each devotion:a name,a face,a moment.


It fed not on sacrifice—But on forgetting.


Stuffed with names that no longer belonged, memories without origin.When it could hold no more, it began to bleed.


Fragments spilled outward—Echoes:phantom lives, false or true, woven into the world.Stray memories.Stray feelings.Names whispered in dreams.


The Nine Cities united, forming the Order of Chains.


Together, they performed a ritual so complex, it required the erasure of three entire languages just to describe.


They bound the Hollow God.Buried its temple beneath Duskwatch.Struck its name from all time.Burned its last rites in iron script.


Some passed into bloodlines.Into Construct shells.Into children who were never born.


It dreams in circuits.It weeps in mirrors.It calls out—not with a voice—


[Document ends abruptly.Remainder corrupted or intentionally incinerated.]


Chapter 6 - Chapter 5 — Archive: The Hollow Era