I am in Hell in Hollow Knight: Silksong
Spoilers for Hollow Knight: Silksong (end of Act I, beginning of Act II)
I’ve finally done it. I’ve climbed the mountain, I’ve overcome the obstacles, I’ve helped my fellow bug, and I’ve payed my prices along the way. There, at the peak of all of these ordeals, I see the shape of my final obstacle. A massive golden door adorned with golden bells sealed up tightly, locking out those without song to sing. Standing in front of the golden bells of this final door I met some cloaked pilgrims and together we played our song in chorus with the chiming of the bells, drawing the attention of the one who claimed to be our judge.
Did the judge attack because they found us unworthy or was this yet another test to prove our worthiness? Either way my fellow bugs did not get to see the other side of that door. The judge beat their massive bell into me, attempting to break my body, and set the room ablaze, attempting to burn me to ash. In return, I exhausted every bit of strength and every tool I could create in the repeated attempt to break through their armor. At the end of this extended duel, with one last explosive barrage, the judge left behind only the burnt remains of their shell before me, still standing despite my bruises and burns. Maybe this battle finally proved me worthy or maybe I overcame the paradigm of worthiness itself. Regardless, the door opened for me and I felt the warmth of the light of the citadel above for the first time. I walked into the temple and towards the lift that would take me high unto my journey’s end, to embrace those that I seek above with hand and needle. The lift does as expected, bringing me up towards that holy glow. For a moment I catch my breath and grip my needle tight. Then, just as the lift had begun to ascend, the gates below open up towards an endless abyss and, with a hitch in the gears, the lift begins to sink. I urged the lift on, pleading with it to raise me up but down it goes. Sinking bit by bit until finally the lever breaks and the gears give way sending us further and faster downwards still.
Was the judge fair in their assessment of my worth? Did I not prove myself by striking them down? Did I only stain my hands further with the blood of the holy pilgrims? Or was it just an act of chance that the lift would prove faulty? If so, does that mean that there is a fault in the land of perfection or is there just a fault in my crusade? Is there still yet further trial before one can prove their worthiness? Does the citadel see any as worthy? Does it ever let any of its pilgrims in? I continued to ask myself these questions until I could pull myself off the ground and out of the wreckage of the once holy lift.
Though battered and broken, with the last of my remaining health, I continue to trudge forward with belief in my heart that I will again reach the top and find my satisfaction but the road ahead appears to be more treacherous than ever. The bugs are larger and more vicious. They attack in pairs with their holy instruments turned away from mending and repair and towards a profane destruction. There is no rest for one such as myself that has spent the last of their holy denomination so I must continue without crafting my tricks and my traps. Unfortunately this land has more tricks and traps to wield against me than I have encountered thus far. The path ahead is lined with the gnashing of metal on metal, grinding and slicing anything and anyone that does not tread carefully enough. Massive blocks covered in hungry metal teeth slam into each other, their thudding echoes loud enough to feel. The sound overwhelms every sense. The corridors are so tight anything but the most gentle hop could send me into their clash of steel and the platforms are fragile scrap metal, existing only long enough for a single footfall before sinking into the spinning blades below. The hallways seem longer and the heights seem higher and more impossible than they ever seemed before.
There is no song down here. Only a cacophony of creaking machinery and grinding metal teeth. Through this hell of sharp teeth and profane instruments I will journey though, hoping to feel that warm light on my face and their warm hemolymph on my hands.