It wasn't fair. What gave the Pale King the authority to kill all his failed attempts of a hollow knight? Shades cluttered the endless Abyss, built up by the shells of deceased vessels. It was an eternal emptiness, all created from the Pale King's desire to trap the Radiance. I managed to barely escape the Abyss. I don't know how. I wasn't good enough for the King, not hollow enough. I was thrown away, cast out like the others, but I survived. My shell yearned to break apart, already cracking down to the void that was my eye. But I didn't want to die. I guess that's why I wasn't fit for the King's desires. He wanted a vacant vessel, with nothing of character, opinions, or thoughts. I had a longing to live. While I was empty in every other sense, I suppose that would still make me a "failed attempt" in the King's eyes.

I limply made my way upwards, reaching the Ancient Basin. It was a dry territory. Dust collected on my cloak as it trailed behind me. Every step became slower, the horns on my shell felt heavier than I remembered. But I didn't stop, I couldn't. I had to leave Hallownest, out of the Pale King's corrupt rule.

I continued to blindly roam the Ancient Basin. Farther and farther. Above me, appeared orange, blob-like creatures. They floated freely like balloons. I expected them to charge at me, so I readied my nail, but they didn't. They floated past me as if I was one of their kind. It confused me.

Then there was a small splat on the dusty ground in front of me. Something had dripped from my shell. I looked down at it. It was a small droplet of orange, similar to the floating balloon creatures. Before I could question it, there was another. It leaked from the eyes of my shell, collecting in a large bubble on the ground. I didn't feel it at first, it was strange. I only knew myself to be completely made of void, not this strange orange goop. But then, the dripping stopped. Instead it collected inside my shell. It pushed against its interior. The pressure was excruciating. I tried to shake my head, hoping it would leave through the eyes of my shell again, but it wouldn't. It was too much. My small hands of void brought themselves up to the sides of my delicate cracked shell.

The infection continued to inflate until my shell couldn't confine it anymore. There was a loud crack as the infection bursted through the back of my shell. It grew bigger and brighter than the infected balloons. I was forced backwards, the infection pulling me to be a heap on the floor. It exploded, having taken its toll on me, and lightseed were dispersed at my feet. They crawled around me, like I wasn't even there.

I sat there, hunched over. There was nothing left of me. I was dead, broken, but there was no shade. The infection took that from me. I would remain like this forever, or until a knight would come by and stir up my infection again. But until then, I would be what the Pale King wanted me to be from the start. Dead. Thrown out. Forgotten. I would be
The Broken Vessel.