Hollow Knight Skins -

The bench glowed. The sound of the hammer echoed across the crossroads. And somewhere, in a forgotten hut, a single, dead Menderbug’s journal fluttered open to a new page. On it, in fresh ink, was written:

The Knight shed it, shaking.

The Knight touched it. Their cloak turned to oily denim. Their nail shrank into a tiny, well-loved hammer. Their mask softened into a round, bug-eyed face with a drooping antenna. They were no taller than a Geo. hollow knight skins