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The Infection is gone, and with it, the last higher being with their claws buried into Hallownest. The Pale King is gone, whether transformed again or truly lost. With each day that passes, the Root moves closer towards that endless sleep. Unn’s call has fallen silent. The Troupe has moved on to scavenge another ruined civilization.
Bugs across Hallownest start to wake up. They start to rebuild. And though many succumb to their conditions, none are reanimated to serve the bidding of a vengeful goddess. Leaders emerge among the citizens, chosen for their ability rather than their power.
The time of gods and masters is over.
Ghost understood this. It’s what they fought tooth and nail to achieve. It’s why, when facing the open maw of the Black Egg, they found another way. It’s why they dethroned the Pale King, yet never took the seat themself.
It’s why…
They felt as the Radiance's light was smothered beneath waves of darkness. In just moments, any hint of her life was stripped away.
It’s why…
They felt as the waves hungered for more, and surged to tear apart the Godseekers dream. It tore through it like a Devout would a Tiktik.
It’s why…
They felt as the void surged out. They knew it would devour Hallownest completely and that no bug could stop it.
It’s why…
“Little Ghost? I believe Hollow wants to show you something. They’ve been painting all day.”
Ghost looked up to Hornet’s expecting gaze, then to her offered claw.
It’s why their siblings are better off not knowing what Ghost had become in order to save them.
It’s why the Lord of Shades, the God of Gods, takes their sisters' claw. Their small (too small) frame bounces along beside her, happy to live a small life after what they’d been through.
Ghost sees Hollow leaning over their easel, something gifted by Sheo when he heard they were searching for a new purpose. Their sibling jerked to hide the canvas before the little vessel could see.
'Wait! It’s not done!'
Hollow’s hand twisted to sign to their siblings, but also projected the sentiment through the void to Ghost, who struggled with sign.
“Hollow, yes it is. You know your sibling will love it, even if you don’t think it’s perfect.” Hornet chastised, though her eyes shown with a gentle mirth. Ghost nodded along beside her, sending impressions of assurance and their excitement to Hollow.
It seemed to work, as the tall bug slowly stood and approached Ghost. The two looked into each other's eyes for a beat, then Hollow held it out between them. Ghost sent that impression of excitement again, then turned the canvas around.
It was a painting of the royal family. In the center stood the Pale King, alive, with his arm looped around the White lady beside him. Beside her stood Hornet, who looked more calm than Ghost had even seen her. In front of the monarchs were two siblings, near twins. They held each other’s hands, and though their masks wore no expressions, Ghost somehow knew they were happy there.
Ghost’s vision suddenly became blurry. They wiped their hand across their mask, but more void spilled to replace it. Their shoulders shook as sobs wracked their body.
Hollow froze, and Hornet too seemed unsure of what to do. A few seconds later, though, Hollow kneeled down and slowly, as if to give Ghost time to step away, wrapped their arms around them. It was awkward, their arms engulfing Ghost’s body and then some, but the little vessel leaned in anyways. This seemed to encourage Hollow, who held them firmer as void tears soaked into their cloak.
Another presence made itself known, Hornets arms surrounding both Ghost and Hollow. She couldn’t hold them as fully as Hollow could, but they cried harder anyways.
They loved their family.
(Not enough to tell them the truth.)