Hollow Knight: Silksong's brutal final stretch conveys the difficulty of creating lasting change

Silksong's "true ending" is hard to find and even harder to see through, reflecting the difficulty of altering Pharloom's fate.

Hollow Knight: Silksong's brutal final stretch conveys the difficulty of creating lasting change

It goes without saying that Hollow Knight: Silksong is a very punishing video game. After becoming one of the most hyped releases in recent memory and opening to the kind of concurrent player count usually reserved for multiplayer forever games, a crush of Hollow Knight heads were summarily sliced and diced by the game’s uncompromising difficulty. Hard-hitting bosses with long runbacks, highly damaging common enemies, evasive flyers, tricky platforming sections, hidden passageways, mentally taxing gauntlets, tithes that gated taking a rest, and at least one truly puckish example of save-point fakeout all come together to positively wail on the player’s ego. It rarely, if ever, lets up.

The steep challenges of the game’s first two acts are a statement of purpose meant to represent what it’s like to live in the game’s setting, a land of forced religious penance. After Hornet is kidnapped and taken to Pharloom against her will, she finds herself in a kingdom of bugs crushed under an oppressive religious order where naivety and trust are exploited for every penny (to be more accurate, their currency is rosaries, which is quite fitting). This is a culture of endless self-flagellation, where adherents are expected to give everything, mind and shell, to the mighty Citadel and its silk-spinning god. This is best represented by the mandatory, and borderline impossible, pilgrimage they’re expected to undertake to the top of the world, a path full of monsters and madness. Hornet has to take this arduous journey herself, not out of piety, but to confront the presence that hunted her down and brought her here in the first place. The sadistic challenges that the player has to conquer are a reflection of a sadistic theocracy that rules through pain.

And there is plenty of pain to be had: even after the pilgrimage to the Citadel ends with Hornet besting the Last Judge, whose hulking stature is almost as imposing as the long trek needed to challenge them to a rematch, the difficulty continues to ratchet up until you finally face the Higher Being puppeteering this place. And what’s your reward for conquering these many divine obstacles and reaching the mountaintop? Well, if you’re like the vast majority of players, this will likely lead to anti-climax. Yes, Hornet defeats the big bad, Grand Mother Silk. But as she absorbs this former god’s power, their energy overflows and silk tendrils pierce the kingdom. The camera cuts away to the Citadel, now covered in a dense web. The camera cuts back to our protagonist, who has transformed into a six-armed creature sleeping in a silk chrysalis that looks eerily similar to the one the ultimate foe was resting in. With a new Higher Being taking the place of the old one, nothing about this kingdom has fundamentally changed. It isn’t even a case of a common person ascending to the throne, and considering Hornet’s royal lineage (she’s a princess who is part Weaver and part Higher Being), it’s very much a horizontal transfer of power.

In Hornet’s defense, it doesn’t seem she made a conscious choice to become the new ruler, but that this happened out of sheer inertia. It’s something that embodies how deeply ingrained this political system is—most of these bugs would likely argue that it is the “natural order” for Higher Beings to rule the lower ones, after all. This becomes even more literal when we learn that generations ago, the bugs of Pharloom began a custom of surgically embedding silk (the means that both the Weavers and Grand Mother Silk used to control others) within their shells, something that is passed on to their children. In other words, the existing hierarchy has rooted itself into their very being.

For Hornet to actually fix things, as she does in the game’s “true ending,” she needs to tear out those roots, and fittingly, the process of both reaching and completing the game’s secret third act is even more of an uphill battle. Because while you can receive the game’s initial ending by thoughtlessly following the path laid out for you on this barbed religious pilgrimage, going further means stepping outside the confines of this church’s doctrine. Hornet needs to more directly engage with the people of Pharloom, familiarizing herself with their struggles as she completes most of the optional side-quests. She needs to internalize every nook and cranny, searching far and wide for the (very cute) fleas tucked in hidden corners of the map, so she can help them return to their caravan and eventually reach Fleatopia. She’ll talk with seasoned warriors, adorable church devotees like Sherma, the bugs of Bellhart, and more as she builds a bastion for survivors. Basically, instead of blindly rushing in to kill the god that’s been hunting her, she has to get to know the people of this place and come to understand its history.

Once she’s done all this, she finally has a conversation with the curmudgeonly Caretaker, who previously accused her of intending to usurp the throne for herself, where she more directly confronts her latent worries about ending up like the other Higher Beings who lord over the lower bugs. Specifically, she says that while some part of her desires the “dominance” of ruling over the kingdom, “another part resists,” a part she finds herself “siding with more.” She goes on: “That part wishes not to claim a monarch’s mantle, rather it would see my freedom regained, and this kingdom’s bugs unshackled from their pale chains.” It’s only after she’s acknowledged this that she can avoid the initial ending, where she takes power for herself.

That said, it takes concerted action to enact this sort of change, and this is where things get a bit complicated. Hornet has to track down the Cartaker’s allies, a trek that involves navigating the most nefarious region in the entire game, Bilewater, a nightmarish poison swamp that Team Cherry poured every drop of human malice into, along with many other challenges that span the map. (No one said that change is easy.) Then she needs to defeat Grand Mother Silk (again, for most players) and trap her within a snare made of souls. Here, having conquered both external threats and her inner desire to dominate, Hornet can finally free this place of its pale chains. Or, at least, so you think.

In a classic “infighting-during-a-revolution” type move, it turns out that the Caretaker doesn’t want to free this place of a monarch, but summon a new one: the Void, an eldritch presence with an endless appetite. This would be bad enough, but it gets worse. As the Void appears to consume Grand Mother Silk, it also absorbs her daughter, Lace. In a last-ditch effort to save her child, this defeated god resists the Void, causing tremors so cataclysmic that they will destroy the kingdom if left unchecked. Now Hornet needs to journey deep into the Abyss and rescue Lace, or all her hard work will come undone due to a battle between otherworldly presences.

And so begins the hidden Act III, which (once again) is even more crushing than what came before. Garden variety enemies are corrupted by the Void, making them as hard-hitting as bosses. Quick travel is initially locked and can only be restored after a challenging fight with a nasty centipede monster. Hornet is eventually forced on a borderline suicide mission where her fate rests on the haphazard engineering skills of a disaffected jobber who is only marginally confident that she won’t be crushed while descending into the Abyss in a copper can. And then after somehow surviving that dive, she gets all the way to the Void, realizes she doesn’t have what she needs to proceed, and is forced to go all the way back to the surface, where she has to battle through the hardest boss fights in the game. The fact that this section doesn’t feel like an overlong epilogue is a testament to how thoroughly it reflects the titanic effort it takes to alter an intractable system (and it also doesn’t hurt that the action and platforming remain exquisite).

The final boss gauntlet is similarly purposeful; here, you enter the memories of the warriors who previously stood up against the would-be silken god, only to ultimately fade. Hornet can only gain the power to set this place right after battling and carrying on the will of those who came before, coming to understand Pharloom’s history as she pays forward the path laid by these complicated figures. At the same time, she also has to reckon with her own past as she looks back on the warring expectations placed on her by the Weavers (who wanted her to dominate), her father (a Higher Being who did dominate), and her mother (a Weaver who wanted her to follow her own path). It all culminates in an ultimate battle that riffs on an earlier duel, requiring the player to demonstrate what they’ve learned during this long trek. When they do, Hornet is finally able to free both the kingdom and herself.

In an era where many games, especially sequels, feel bloated and poorly paced, it’s easy to imagine Silksong repeating these mistakes. But while the optional third act stretches the game’s playtime past 60 hours, it’s so thematically cohesive with the rest of the experience that it feels essential. In the first two acts, Hornet accomplishes the difficult task of overcoming brutal religious trials (including killing a god). But it’s only when she stops to fully understand and confront this place’s history that she can overcome the miasma lurking beneath the surface. This climactic stretch may be long, taxing, and more challenging than anything that came before, but ultimately, the result is very worth it.

 
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