Destined MeetingChapter TextThe man Sunny presumed to be Adam was not alone.
Two others walked with him, but not in the manner of guards, servants, or subordinates. They moved alongside him as equals, their spacing natural, unforced—three figures sharing the same pace rather than orbiting a center.
One of them could only be Sasrir.
He was tall and slender, his build long-limbed rather than bulky, with flowing black hair that fell past his shoulders like a curtain of ink. Thick shadows clung to him unnaturally, shrouding everything above the shoulders. His face was not obscured so much as erased, reduced to an indistinct mass of darkness that refused to reflect light. It made Sunny's skin prickle just to look at him.
Sasrir wore a robe similar in cut to Adam's—simple, utilitarian—but his was pitch black, devoid of pattern, trim, or ornamentation. There was no cross around his neck, no symbol of faith or affiliation. He walked quietly, his presence bending the air around him, as though the world itself instinctively stepped aside.
The second man—
Sunny blinked.
Then blinked again.
A curse rose unbidden in his mind.
He had thought Caster Han Li was unfairly perfect. The man before him rendered that belief laughable. This stranger possessed a kind of beauty that felt deliberate, almost sculpted. Soft bronze hair caught the light as he walked, its color warm rather than ostentatious. His limpid green eyes reflected the sun in a way that made them seem alive, bright with genuine warmth rather than sharp intelligence. His skin was lightly tanned, smooth and unblemished.
He was not excessively muscular, but his exposed arms were toned and well-built, shaped by honest effort rather than vanity. A natural smile rested on his lips—not practiced, not forced—and he greeted everyone he passed with easy familiarity. To Sunny's growing irritation, people greeted him back eagerly, some smiling despite themselves.
If Sasrir made the world darker, then this man made it brighter.
And that alone made Sunny deeply suspicious.
Adam himself was… ordinary.
At least, at first glance.
He had thick blond hair cut neatly before the ears, with a golden beard framing his mouth and jawline. His features were symmetrical, composed, and had a charm that was held by those on the twilight between youth and manhood. There was no overwhelming presence, no sharp edge to him, and Sunny felt he would blend into a crowd anywhere—the perfect ordinary.
Around Adam's neck hung a crucifix.
It was mottled bronze, its surface worn as though it had been handled often. At the end of each point of the cross, thorns had been forged into the metal, curling inward like brambles. Sunny frowned faintly at the sight, imagining how easily the sharp points could prick skin if Adam was careless.
Nephis noticed them at the same time he did.
She glanced sideways at Sunny. He understood instantly and extended Gloomy's range, letting his shadow slip away from his feet and melt into the cluttered geometry of the Settlement. It flowed across walls, under carts, into the narrow gaps between shacks.
No one followed.
No hidden escort. No ambush waiting to close in.
Sunny recalled his shadow and gave Nephis a subtle shake of his head. All clear.
Changing Star straightened.
Despite the fact that she had been elbow-deep in monster viscera not long ago, her skin was immaculate, unmarred by grime or blood. Her flames had long since burned away anything that dared linger on her body. She stood tall, composed, every inch the Legacy she was born to be.
She remained like that as Adam and Sasrir came into view.
Then she saw the third man.
Sunny almost thought he had been ensnared by the Soul Devourer again.
Nephis froze.
Her stormy grey eyes widened until they looked almost comically large. Her mouth parted slowly, soundlessly, and a vivid scarlet bloomed across her cheeks. Her fists clenched at her sides, knuckles whitening, and her posture wavered as though her legs had forgotten their purpose.
She swayed.
Sunny's heart skipped. He rushed to her side, catching her arm before she could stumble.
"Neph? Neph!"
Around them, people paused. Whispers faltered. Even Cassie sensed something was wrong.
She reached out anxiously, her hands groping the air until, on her third attempt, she found Nephis's arm and held on tightly.
"Nephis?" Cassie asked, her voice tight with concern. "What's wrong?"
By then, Adam and the two men had arrived in front of them.
Adam regarded the scene in silence, his expression gentle and open, though even he could not fully conceal the flicker of surprise that crossed his face at Nephis's condition. The handsome stranger's smile softened into something more cautious, more curious, while Sasrir remained unreadable, the shadows around him thickening almost imperceptibly.
Adam inclined his head slightly, his voice calm and warm.
"Excuse me, miss," he said. "Are you alright?"
Nephis remained unfocused for several long seconds.
Her gaze drifted past Adam, past Sasrir, past the gathered onlookers, as though she were staring at something far beyond the Settlement. Then, without warning, silver flame erupted around her body.
The fire bloomed outward in a tight corona, bright and pure. Her pale hair lifted as if caught in an unseen current, strands floating upward in defiance of gravity. The air grew hot, sharp with power.
Sunny reacted instantly.
He leapt backward, pulling Cassie with him, placing his body between her and Nephis without conscious thought. His heart hammered as he braced for an explosion, for a loss of control, for something catastrophic.
Nothing came.
After barely two seconds, the flames extinguished themselves, collapsing inward as though they had never existed. The heat vanished. The light faded. Nephis stood there once more, composed and immaculate, as if the outburst had been nothing more than a trick of the eye.
She straightened her posture.
Then she smiled politely at Adam.
Her gaze slid, briefly, to the third man, lingering for the faintest fraction of a second before she turned away and ignored him completely.
"Thank you for your concern," she said evenly. "But I am fine."
Sunny exhaled slowly through his nose, swallowing a curse before it could escape. He shot her a sharp look, but Nephis gave no indication that anything was amiss.
Adam, to Sunny's surprise, did not press the issue.
He simply nodded, then stepped forward and extended his hand.
"My name is Adam," he said, his voice calm and sincere. "I have heard of your deeds this past week. I wished to offer my respects. The Settlement does not have many people like you, and each one makes a difference. On behalf of all us lonely souls here in the Forgotten Shore, I thank you."
Nephis accepted his hand, clasping it firmly.
Her grip was steady. Her eyes were clear now, resolute rather than distant.
"No," she replied. "It is I who should be thanking you. I am merely mimicking your own actions, and even then, what I do is far lesser. My Aspect is uniquely suited to hunting, and I am at very little risk of being harmed. You chose to endanger yourself to help others despite being less suited to it. That is far more deserving of praise."
Adam laughed softly and withdrew his hand.
"You flatter me," he said. "In truth, I am only responsible for distributing the aid. It is thanks to others—Seishan, Sasrir, Kido, and Kai here—that I am able to gather so much in the first place. Without them, my efforts would be tragically limited."
At the mention of his name, the third man's smile deepened slightly, though he said nothing.
Nephis's gaze flickered toward Kai once more—quick, involuntary—before settling instead on Sasrir.
"Are you Sasrir?" she asked. "I have heard much about you, despite having been here only a short while."
The shadow-cloaked man met her eyes.
He did not shift, did not fidget, did not react to the attention. He stood utterly still, like a statue carved from darkness. When he spoke, his voice was level and unadorned, yet it carried an undertone Sunny could not immediately identify.
"I suppose my reputation precedes me," Sasrir said. "Your own accomplishments are impressive. Compared to me—someone who only knows how to kill—you seem far more admirable."
Nephis smiled at him.
This time, she did not deny the compliment.
Nephis turned back to Adam, smoothly resuming their conversation as if the earlier disturbance had never occurred.
"You mentioned Kido and Seishan," she said. "I know they are both Lieutenants, but what exactly do they contribute to your efforts?"
Adam answered without hesitation, his tone practiced yet sincere.
"Kido takes personal requests from me, or allows me to submit them to the Artisans under her oversight. Several of the medicines I distribute come directly from her and her plants. I owe her a great deal for that assistance, and to Gemma as well for allowing me access in the first place. She does not have to help me, but she also offers a discount on what I order."
He paused briefly before continuing.
"As for Seishan, she provides manpower and organization. The Handmaidens have been an invaluable support. They are responsible for surveying the Settlement and determining what the people need most. I am not always able to listen to everyone or act on every request myself, so they take over in my absence."
Nephis absorbed this in silence, her expression thoughtful.
"Kai here," Adam continued, turning slightly, "assists Sasrir with hunting monsters. His skill is among the best I have seen in the Forgotten Shore. Things would have been far more difficult without him."
Kai shifted awkwardly under the praise, rubbing the back of his neck.
"You give me too much credit, Adam," he said with a sheepish smile. "Sasrir does most of the work. I just clean up the stragglers."
Sunny watched the exchange closely, committing every word and gesture to memory.
His gaze lingered on the quiver strapped across Kai's back, the fletched ends of a dozen arrows visible over his shoulder. An archer. That alone made the man unusual. Most Awakened relied on close combat or spellcasting; effective ranged specialists were rare. That made Kai both valuable and dangerous.
Nephis and Adam exchanged a few more polite, largely meaningless remarks, the kind people used to feel one another out without revealing anything important. Then Adam turned his attention to Sunny and Cassie.
"Forgive my impoliteness," he said warmly. "May I ask the name of the sir and the lovely lady?"
Sunny met Adam's baby-blue eyes—and froze for a heartbeat.
Up close, the resemblance was unsettling. The same shade of golden hair. The same clear blue eyes. Even the softness of Adam's features, slightly effeminate in youth, mirrored Cassie's. It was like looking at her twin brother, older by only a few years.
Then his Flaw struck.
Pain lanced through his mind, sharp and sudden, snapping him out of the moment.
"Sunless," he said quickly. "But you can call me Sunny."
"Cassia," Cassie added calmly. "But I prefer Cassie."
Adam inclined his head at their introductions, then extended his hand toward Sunny.
Sunny hesitated, his eyes flicking from the outstretched hand to Cassie.
Adam realized his mistake instantly.
Without any break in his expression, without even the faintest awkward pause, he lowered his hand again, the smile on his face never wavering. Cassie, unable to see the exchange, sensed only the sudden lull and tilted her head in confusion.
Before she could ask, Nephis stepped in.
"Excuse me," she said evenly. "Would you have a moment to talk? Preferably somewhere secure and quiet."
Adam studied her for a long second.
For the first time, something other than gentle kindness flickered in his eyes—alertness, calculation, and interest. He nodded slowly.
"Of course," he said. "But would you mind if I distribute this week's supplies first?"
Nephis stepped back and inclined her head.
"Please. Feel free. In fact, when I am finished handling my own matters, I can help."
Adam's smile broadened, bright and genuine, like sunlight breaking through clouds.
"Thank you very much."
An hour later, the six of them were gathered in a half-ruined house on the edge of the Outer Settlement. Dust motes swirled lazily in the sunlight streaming through broken windows, illuminating cracks in the walls and scattered debris across the floor. Sunny had already scoped out the area beforehand, but he hadn't protested when Sasrir offered to do the same. The shadow man melted into the darkness of a corner, his figure dissolving completely as he merged with his own shadow. Sunny and Nephis watched intently, fascinated and slightly unnerved. After five minutes, the shadows writhed like liquid, and Sasrir re-emerged in full form, clothes perfectly intact. Sunny's mind raced—how did he do it? Were his garments somehow woven from shadow, like the weapons he was rumored to forge?
Once Sasrir was seated, Adam took the lead, leaning forward slightly, his hands resting over the brambled cross that hung around his neck. "Now, Lady Changing Star," he began, his tone light but inquisitive, "may I ask why you called me to such a secluded place? Conversing here, one cannot help but think you are plotting something… nefarious." His eyes flickered with humor, signaling no real threat in his words. Nephis smiled slightly, a carefully measured expression that came very close to being genuine, and wasted no time cutting to the heart of the matter.
"I want your help with escaping back to the Waking World," she said simply, her voice steady and commanding.
The three men reacted differently. Kai blinked rapidly, startled. Adam's gaze narrowed, his expression sharpening into concern, while Sasrir merely tilted his head slightly, his shadowed face unreadable, focusing intently on her words.
"You wish to enlist me in taking the Crimson Spire?" Adam's voice was calm, almost measured, though he stroked his cross in thought. "I am honored you think so highly of me, Lady Changing Star, but I must warn you—a Citadel is not easily claimed. Even the most talented cohort would struggle against such odds. Adding me alone changes little."
"That's why I intend to use more than just us," Nephis replied evenly, her eyes meeting his without hesitation. Adam paused, hand frozen mid-stroke over his cross, then looked up at her, giving her his full attention.
"I plan to bring everybody on the Forgotten Shore home," she continued. "Every Sleeper who still breathes deserves a chance to fight for their freedom. That is why I need you, Adam."
Adam's frown deepened, and he shook his head slightly. "My Lady, your ambition is admirable, but things are far more complex than you imagine. Many here hate, fear, or despise the Forgotten Shore, yes—but they fear the Spire far more. They've been institutionalized, trapped for so long that any alternative feels alien. Many have already surrendered to hopelessness. They cannot fight if their desire to live has been extinguished."
Nephis' expression sharpened, her stormy grey eyes burning with determination. "Who says I won't rouse them?" she countered, her voice now carrying the subtle weight of authority. "With your guidance and my gifts, we can rekindle the will to live in every Sleeper, to break the Spell's chains. Together, we can lead them to the Spire, topple the Lord at its peak, and return them to their homes and families."
Adam's gaze lingered on her, now intense and searching, as if he were measuring the depth of her resolve. Kai, sitting to the side, leaned forward slightly, his bright eyes reflecting a mixture of curiosity and intrigue. Even Sasrir's head shifted a fraction, though the expression behind the shadows remained inscrutable.
"What about Gunlaug?" Sasrir's voice cut through the charged silence. "I'll admit, your words are inspiring, but the Bright Lord won't stand idly by while you empower the downtrodden. Even if you only intend to direct them toward the Spire, he will perceive them as a threat to his own heart. Gunlaug has tolerated Adam and me barely enough as it is. He will crush anyone who moves against him."
Nephis' lips pressed together, considering his warning. "I know he will," she replied evenly. "And I know we will need to be smarter, faster, and more precise than anything he expects. But fear will not stop this plan. It cannot."
Adam leaned back slightly, his fingers tightening over the brambled cross as he seemed to fall into deep thought. The room fell into silence, broken only by the soft creak of the floorboards and the faint wind whistling through the broken windows. Sunny could feel the tension building like a living thing, his eyes darting between Nephis, Adam, and the shadowed figure of Sasrir. Time stretched, each second thick with unspoken questions.
Finally, Adam's eyes lifted, meeting Nephis' unwavering gaze. "So… you are planning a coup?" His voice was firm, harder than before, though still tempered with gentleness.
Nephis did not flinch. If anything, her gaze sharpened. "I plan to bring salvation to all who deserve it. In this case, those willing to fight for it. And tell me—do you believe Gunlaug does not deserve death? His hands are far bloodier than Tessai's. Why hesitate now?"
Adam stiffened slightly at the mention of Tessai, his fingers tightening minutely over the cross. Sunny felt the shift rather than saw it, his body instinctively lowering and coiling, ready to dodge or react to any sudden aggression. Sasrir, ever silent, had frozen in place; the shadows around his shoulders stopped fidgeting, sculpted into something cold and still. But the worst didn't happen, because Kai intervened.
"Lady Changing Star, please do not be so rash," Kai said firmly, his voice carrying both admiration and reproach. His eyes were no longer bright with curiosity; they were serious, almost grim. "The death of Tessai… though I struggle to find the right word, it was a coincidence."
Sunny repeated the word quietly under his breath, confused. "A coincidence?"
Kai's gaze softened, but his words were precise. "Yes. It occurred without ulterior motive or a broader agenda. It only happened because I requested assistance for a friend. Adam and Sasrir do not condone violence against their fellow man, even if they are men in name only. Furthermore, your plan will inevitably lead to more deaths than just Gunlaug's. How will the Castle respond to the violent demise of its Lord? Can you shoulder the consequences of that chaos?"
Nephis listened without interruption, her posture calm, her expression unreadable. Sunny could not tell whether she was processing, ignoring, or simply planning her next move. Her voice finally cut through the tense air, soft but unyielding. "Who says it needs to be violent?" She turned her silver-gray gaze toward Adam. "You are close to him, yes? He does not trust you, but he underestimates you. Surely there is a moment when his guard is down—a drink, a meal… some opportunity that requires subtlety, not open conflict."
Adam's frown deepened, his fingers tightening slightly over the cross again. "He has a Transcendent armour and weaponry," he said quietly, but firmly, displeasure evident in his tone. "He never takes it off, and can create any weapon he wants instantly. There is nothing any of us hold that could properly harm him, let alone kill him. It would take a miracle—a literal impossibility."
Nephis' lips pressed into a thin line, her gaze unwavering. "Then I will create that miracle."
Her declaration hung in the air, heavy and defiant. Even Sunny and Cassie were struck silent, staring at her with a mix of awe, disbelief, and apprehension. But Adam, calm and composed as ever, regarded her with a new intensity. His face showed no anger, only something heavier—a combination of disappointment, exasperation, and… caution.
"That is enough, Lady Changing Star." His voice, though still respectful, was curt, leaving no room for argument. "I will not deny your good deeds, and I will be the first to admit I want the people to regain their spark. But if the price is treachery and bloodshed, I am not interested in paying it. Not a word of this conversation will leave our lips. But if you seek co-conspirators for your plan, you will have to find them elsewhere."
With that, Adam stood. His movements were measured, deliberate, as if the weight of his principles guided every step. Sasrir followed immediately, his shadowy form gliding silently behind him like a living darkness. Kai lingered a fraction longer, giving one last look at Nephis—a gaze filled with unspoken regret, disappointment, and a flicker of expectation. Then he too departed, leaving the room empty except for the echo of their footsteps.
Sunny exhaled sharply, the tension in his chest easing slightly though his heart still pounded like a drum. His mind was a storm of furious thoughts. He gave Nephis a dark, accusing look, but said nothing. Without another word, he rose and strode out of the half-ruined house. Cassie glanced up at his retreating figure, opening her mouth as if to speak, but no words came. Changing Star remained seated, her composure unbroken, chin propped on her hand, eyes distant yet calculating, as though already plotting how to supplement Adam's role in their plan.
Outside, Sunny's body moved on autopilot. He hunched slightly, letting his legs carry him forward without conscious thought. Dangerous as it was, Gloomy was still scouting ahead, passively ensuring no immediate threat lurked in the Settlement's narrow streets.
After covering a few meters, Sunny stopped abruptly. With a violent kick, he sent a loose piece of rubble spinning into the air. The stone collided with a wall and shattered in a loud crash. Yet even that release of force barely dented the storm inside him.
The conversation from earlier had revealed the source of the tumult gnawing at him: discomfort. He had sensed it subconsciously before, but the truth now sat heavy in his chest. Nephis had an ulterior motive behind her kindness. He had guessed, but refused to believe it. She was capable of orchestrating something inhuman—willing to lead hundreds of people into potential death, perhaps even certain death. What she framed as salvation and liberation felt to him like a calculated manipulation, reminiscent of governments and Legacy Clans: luring the weak with promises of safety and progress, only to discard them once their value was exhausted.
The revelation hit Sunny like a gut-punch. Again and again, he kicked any stone unfortunate enough to lie in his path. Gloomy coiled around him, amplifying the force of each strike, turning his frustration into kinetic energy. Even as his anger raged, a strange question gnawed at him: why did he feel betrayed? Nephis owed him nothing; he had never demanded loyalty, never sought servitude. And yet the sense of betrayal was real, deep, and burning.
He swung his foot at yet another rock—his eighth or ninth—when a voice rang out behind him. It was calm, teasing, and familiar with danger. Sunny spun on reflex, summoning the Midnight Shard in his hand.
Standing there was a woman unlike anyone he had ever seen. Taller than any female he knew—and taller than most men, too—she exuded raw, predatory strength. Long brown hair framed her sharp face, her olive-toned skin flawless under the muted sunlight. Hazel eyes glimmered with amusement, sharp and wolfish. A bronze spear, tipped with a crystalline point, rested against her shoulder, the weight of it betraying her effortless strength.
She stepped closer, her stance relaxed, and spoke with a teasing voice. "Watch'a doing, kid?"
Sunny's grip on the Midnight Shard tightened. Every nerve screamed readiness, yet his mind raced to place her. He didn't recognize her from the Settlement or the Castle, but there was no mistaking the air of experience and lethal precision that surrounded her.
"I… I was just…" he began, but words failed him under her steady, amused gaze.
The woman chuckled, "Just kicking rocks, huh? That's one way to work out anger… or is it something else?"
Sunny's jaw clenched, his heart still hammering in his chest. "Something like that," he muttered, still wary.
She tilted her head, the crystal tip of her spear catching the light as she regarded him thoughtfully. "Well, kid… whatever you're doing, you're making one hell of a racket. I thought some monster had gotten trapped under some rubble or something and came to check it out, butall I find is a shorty like you."
Sunny scowled at her adress to him. "I'm not that short" he denied. "And I'm sure as hell no kid."
Thewoman gave him an amused look, nodding her chin several times. "Uh huh, uh huh. Well then, what is your name, shorty?"
"Sunny" he snarled out, angrier than he wanted. The woman blinkedat that, some of the jovialnessfading as she realsied just how pent up he really was. She cleared her throat, her tone no longer so flippant. "Well,I'm Athena, though my friends call me Effie. You new here, Sunny?"
His Flaw made him answer first, but then he asked herthe question of his own. "Athena? As in, the one blacklisted by Gunlaug?"
"Oh?" The smile was back. "What, have you heard about me already? Well now I'm curious: what do they say about me?"
"That you're very beautiful, very strong and very crazy" Sunny involuntarily spoke bluntly, though Athena didn't seem bothered. She chuckled softly and scratched her forehead. "Shucks, I really must be pretty famous then. Let me guess, the last one comes from Gunlaug?"
"No, just from me."
Fuck.
"Oho?" Athena looked at him, her eyes narrowed playfully. "You're quite bold, new kid. Let me guess, you think I'm crazy becauseI chose to live alone in the City?"
A nod.
"Well then, I suppose you can't really be called wrong. But I'm not crazy-in fact, I see things more clearly than most. I don'tfear the Dream Realm, so I'm comfortable living off by myself. Besides, if I ever need to talk to somebody, I can always head to the Settlement to kill a couple of hours."
"I thought you were barred?"
"Only from the Castle itself, not from the Outer Settlement."
"Oh. Then why are you heading there now?"
"Pssh, nosey little man, aren't you?" she laughed, but before Sunny could excuse himself she explained anyways. "I'm coming to meet a few friends. They called me over, said they wanted to talk. You've probably heard of them."~
"Really? I'm new here, remember?"
"Oh yeah, even newbies learn about them pretty quick. Ever heard of a charity guy named Adam?"
With that, the smile that had just grown on Sunny's face faded again.
Destined SeparationsNotes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter TextWhen Sunny returned to Nephis and Cassie, he said nothing of where he had gone, nor did they ask. The three fell into a strange rhythm over the next several days. Nephis hunted in the mornings, returning midday with three or four monster carcasses. By evening, she used her silver flames to heal the sick and injured among the Settlement's residents. This routine continued for ten days, the same span of time it took for a response to arrive from the Bright Castle.
Sunny had just stepped out of the tent he slept in when he saw Nephis surrounded by a small group of sturdy Settlers, facing off against a man and his entourage. The Settlers had offered their services freely, and Nephis had accepted, organizing them to take over distribution and security. Cassie lingered nearby, her worried eyes following Sunny as he moved closer.
The man confronting Nephis had a lean frame, slightly taller than average, with casual black-brown hair and brown eyes. A smile rested on his face, but Sunny could detect the falseness immediately—dark intent lurked behind his gaze.
Between the two groups stood Adam's team, apparently trying to mediate. Despite their efforts, the tension persisted. Sunny approached, listening in as the conversation unfolded.
"Lady Changing Star," the man said, his voice carefully polite, "the Bright Lord would like to extend his apologies. He was unaware of your arrival, and has disrespectfully left you to abide out here, in the Settlement. To showcase his apology, he has invited you and your two aides into the Castle for a special meeting—to discuss your stay here in the Forgotten Shore."
Sunny almost laughed at the absurdity, and the sound escaped before he could stop it. Gemma, whom Sunny immediately recognized as the regenerating leader of the Hunters, turned sharply at the noise. He gave Sunny a dismissive once-over, then returned his attention to Nephis, waiting for her response. But Sunny was in no mood to play along.
"Hey, idiot," he called out, his tone sharp and cutting through the tension, "did you not realize by now? Nephis doesn't want anything to do with you, so why don't you fuck off?"
Even Nephis appeared surprised at his bluntness, though she remained silent, merely observing the scene. Gemma's polite mask cracked, and the volunteers around him stiffened.
"Lord Gemma," one of them stammered, "please, pay them no mind—"
Gemma waved them off coldly. "Fuck off, Durum. I gave you guys face because of Adam and Sasrir, but if you think I can be walked over just because that guy is stronger than me, then clearly you don't know why I'm the head of the Hunters. Everyone else who tried to take the spot from me is dead. Now get your face away from me before I cut it off."
Turning back to Nephis, Gemma discarded all pretense. "Listen up, girly, and listen well. The Bright Lord is displeased with your actions and demands you stop. Stirring up dissent in the Settlement does nobody any favors. If you want to do charity, at least be smart like Adam and do it quietly. Keep spreading your nonsense about returning to the Waking World, and soon you and us will have a problem. Got it?"
He glared at her, menace in every line of his body. Nephis remained unflappable, her voice calm yet deliberate. "Please tell Gunlaug I have received his message," she said, choosing her words carefully, "and tell him I will consider his warning."
Gemma narrowed his eyes, reading the implication, but glanced at the faces of the Settlers behind Nephis. Satisfied—or perhaps unwilling to escalate further—he turned and strode off, his entourage of goons following silently.
Sunny's chest still thumped from the encounter. Nephis had faced the Bright Lord's enforcer and had done so without flinching, her composure intact. Even the Settlers seemed bolstered by her quiet defiance. The tension hung briefly in the air, then slowly dissipated as the day returned to its routine rhythms, but Sunny knew one thing for certain: Nephis had firmly planted her message, and the atmosphere of tension would become more and more prominent as the days went by.
Nephis returned from her daily hunt to an eerie quiet that immediately set her on edge. The Settlement, usually bustling with the sound of people preparing meals, exchanging goods, or tending to small repairs, was unusually subdued. She exchanged a glance with Sunny, who had intercepted her near the edge of the central square, his expression grim. Without a word, he led her through the narrowed paths of the Settlement until they reached the source of the unease.
Two Sleepers lay on the ground, their bodies twisted unnaturally, eyes wide with shock and pain. Jagged, vicious wounds scored across their chests and necks had drained the color from their faces. From the angle of the slashes, Sunny quickly deduced that it was the throat wounds that had finished them, while the rest of the injuries seemed designed more as a display—a warning. Nephis' expression remained stony, almost unreadable, but Sunny could sense the storm brewing behind her calm exterior.
Without hesitation, she took the lead. Despite the offers of the surrounding Settlers to assist, Nephis insisted on handling the burial herself. Sunny and a few of the sturdier volunteers helped lift the bodies, carrying them through the quiet streets to a small clearing just beyond the Settlement. The ground was soft enough to dig, and Nephis worked with precise, deliberate motions, her silver flames briefly igniting to cauterize the edges of the wounds for a final mark of respect.
When the graves were dug, she gently lowered the bodies into the soil, her hands steady and controlled even as her chest heaved subtly from the effort. She rejected Sunny's attempt to help further, though she allowed him to carry the bodies with her to the gravesite. After covering the two bodies with earth, Nephis placed a pair of stone spikes at the head of each grave, simple yet unmistakable markers of finality.
Nephis straightened, brushing dirt from her hands, and turned to face the crowd of Sleepers that had gathered at a safe distance. Their faces were pale, a mixture of fear, confusion, and grudging respect. Some whispered among themselves, trying to piece together what had occurred, while others stared silently at the marked graves.
Her silver flames flickered faintly along her arms, not in display, but as an aura that made her presence impossible to ignore. The Settlement seemed to quiet further, as if the world itself had paused to listen.
Nephis bent slightly, her eyes lingering on the stone markers, letting the moment of solemnity imprint itself upon her and the remaining Sleepers. Then, with deliberate calm, she turned away.
The stone spikes glimmered faintly in the sunlight, stark reminders of the cost of defiance—and the measure of the leader who had delivered the lesson.
Nephis's gaze swept over the huddled, uneasy crowd, her silver eyes calm yet sharp, cutting through the rising murmurs like a blade. The wind stirred her hair and the faint shimmer of her silver flames traced the edges of her form, though they did not ignite fully—this was no display, no performance. This was command.
"Look at what has been done," she began, voice clear and steady, carrying across the square of dirt and stone. "Not by monsters from the dark, nor by the storms beyond the Sea—but by men who choose cruelty, who are blind to honor, and deaf to justice. They wield power as a shield to hide their cowardice, and yet they will not stop us, not if we refuse to bow to fear."
Her words were measured, deliberate, striking the nerve of every person gathered. She paused, letting the silence fill the air, her gaze sweeping the crowd like a huntress evaluating her prey. Then she continued.
"Bravery is not born from comfort. It is not the quiet life that defines a man or woman, but the courage to act when all others look away. To stand, even when the ground beneath you is stained with injustice, even when the world says you must remain silent. Those who wield cruelty and injustice seek to convince you that obedience is safety—but it is a lie."
Her voice rose slightly, carrying a weight that made even the strongest Settlers shift uncomfortably under its truth. "We do not obey to survive. We act because survival is not enough. We act because life, for all its hardship, is worth claiming. We act because injustice left unchecked is a wound that festers in the heart of all who live under it. And those who wield power without honor will meet the reckoning that we bring with us—not through their own hands, but through the strength and will of those they sought to crush."
Nephis's eyes swept to the front row, resting briefly on the closest of the younger, frightened Sleepers, before lifting again to the crowd. "It is not death we fear—it is cowardice. It is not pain we flee from—it is weakness. Stand, not for glory, not for reward, but because the world demands courage. The ones who carve fear into your hearts believe you are weak. Show them you are not."
Her shoulders straightened, and she took a single step forward, letting her words resonate in the tense air around them. "Remember this day. Remember that the strong only stay strong when the weak refuse to kneel. And let those who would hurt you know this truth: you will not kneel, you will not hide, and you will not obey injustice."
She let the silence stretch a heartbeat longer, then began walking down the center of the gathering, each step deliberate, unhurried. The crowd parted before her like the tide, the tension in the air palpable, a mixture of awe, fear, and renewed resolve. Some of the Sleepers' faces shone with determination, others with anger at the cruelty they had witnessed—but all of them were roused.
By the time she reached the edge of the crowd, the murmurs had grown restless, almost electric. Eyes followed her every movement, hearts quickened with the stirring of a hope they hadn't dared feel before. Nephis's presence, her voice, and her unshakable composure had done more than intimidate—they had awakened something in the hearts of the Forgotten Shore.
Sunny watched from the edge, his chest tight but his mind racing. The stones of fear had been shaken loose, and even if the path ahead was perilous, Nephis had made it clear: she would not stop, and neither could anyone who wished to follow her. The crowd parted completely, letting Nephis walk through them like she had parted a sea. It should have been awe-inspiring. Instead, it filled Sunny with fear.
Sunny's chest still heaving from the intensity of the scene, he sat alone on a wooden crate nearby, biting his nails as he furiously tried to think of a solution. The clash between Gunlaug and Nephis was inevitable—she had rebuked him just once, and the Bright Lord had responded by murdering two of her followers. Nephis' retaliation had been with words alone, but the impact was far stronger than any act of violence. Sunny had heard of Gunlaug's obsession over power, how he struck down anyone who tried to claim it from him, but even so, he had been unprepared for the level of calculated brutality Gemma and the Bright Lord had exhibited.
No, he had to do something. If Gunlaug and Nephis fought, one of them might survive, but what about himself and Cassie? That they would be dragged into it, there was no doubt. Gemma had already called them Nephis' "aides" when he saw them. He was tied to her chariot, and it was racing headlong off a cliff. He'd be damned if he allowed her to drag him any further, friendship or no friendship.
He sat up and began walking toward where Nephis stayed, but he had only gotten halfway when he saw a figure leaning against the wall. In the fading sunlight, shadow covered their upper body, so it was only when he got closer that Sunny recognized Cassie. The blind girl had both hands clasped in front of her stomach, and she seemed to be muttering something to herself.
"Cass?" he asked.
She startled, head shooting up, fixing on his general area. Sunny stepped closer, gently reaching out to touch her shoulder. "Hey Cass, it's me."
"Sunny," she sighed, a small smile forming. "What are you doing here?"
"I can ask the same of you," he chuckled. "I'm off to see Nephis; I need to talk to her about something. Are you heading somewhere?"
"Ah, no, I actually just got back from seeing Nephis myself…she's in, in case you were wondering."
"Really," Sunny blinked. "Well, that's a coincidence. Need me to drop you back?"
"Ah, no, thank you."
Sunny walked past her but had only taken a few steps when she called out again. "Sunny?"
There was something in her voice that made his stomach twist, and he looked back. "Yes, Cassie?" The sun had lowered just enough to change the angle of its light, revealing her lower jaw and mouth, but still hiding her eyes. "Can you…hold my hand, for a second?"
Sunny was confused but didn't refuse. He moved back to her, taking her soft hand in his own and holding it gently. Cassie smiled her gratitude at him, and then Sunny's eyes widened as he felt a current of warm energy flow through her arm, up into his, and into his heart. In his mind, the Spell spoke.
[You have received a Memory—Endless Spring.]
Sunny stood frozen, confused, but a terrible feeling took root in his mind and refused to leave. "Cassie?" he questioned, voice lost. She gave an awkward smile and then took back her hand, scratching her neck and fidgeting on the spot.
"Well, you remember how on the day we got sent here, I wished you a happy birthday?"
Sunny blinked, having to sift through his memory to recall the event. "Oh yeah, that was…creepy. Did you see it through one of your visions?"
"Yeah… I just get small ones sometimes that fill me in on things. Anyways, I was just remembering it there, and I realized I never got you a present! So, I decided that I might as well give you one now: better late than never, right?"
Sunny frowned, then sighed, then laughed. "Cass, you really don't need to. We're friends—such token gestures don't mean much to me. The fact you thought about it is enough, really. Besides, isn't this Memory important to you? It's one of your first."
As he spoke, Sunny reached out to take her hand and return the Endless Spring, but Cassie forcibly wrenched hers away, causing Sunny to stand there gawping in shock. Realizing her blunder, Cassie nervously tousled her hair and stepped back. "Listen, Sunny, I have to go. Just… just stay safe, alright?"
Before he could respond, the blonde girl turned and ran, vanishing around the corner. Sunny was left standing there alone for several seconds, before looking down at his hand and clenching it into a fist. Burying the emotions too complex to name, he turned and continued to his original destination.
Nephis' house came into view, and a light was visible in the window. Taking a deep breath, he went up to the door and knocked. After several seconds, her voice rang out. "Come in." Sunny swung open the door, but what he saw made him nearly turn and walk back out.
Caster Han Li was there, sitting on a chair and holding a cup of what looked like hot tea. He had turned at Sunny's entrance, watching him with innocent curiosity, and even had the audacity to take a sip right in front of him. Nephis sat on the other side of the table, looking down at a piece of parchment. Sunny couldn't see much detail from here, but it seemed to be some sort of map.
"Sunny, what can I do for you?" Nephis asked, her gaze calm but probing. Sunny stared at her for several seconds before gesturing toward Caster with his chin. "Hey Neph, can we talk? Alone, preferably."
Nephis looked at Caster, but before she could speak, he put down his cup and stood. "It's alright, Lady Changing Star, I should get going anyway. I hope my information was helpful to you, my Lady."
"Thank you, Caster. I will put it to good use."
Caster walked past him, and Sunny made way. Yet, as they passed shoulder to shoulder, Sunny couldn't help but notice something—Caster walked with his eyes straight ahead, not a single flicker in Sunny's direction. It was as if, in Caster's eyes, Sunny didn't even exist.
Alone in the house, a strange and subtle atmosphere settled, and Sunny almost backed out. But instead, he pressed forward and took the seat Caster was in, disdainfully pushing away the cup of tea he left behind. Nephis calmly took it without a word and put a behind her, then turned back to look at him."What do you wat to talk about?"
Sunny took a deep breath, looking down at the stone tables, tracing the grooves and patterns in it with his eyes. After taking a fewseconds to collect himself, he looked up into Nephis' eyes and spoke his mind. "Neph, you should stop while you still can."
He stared unblinkingly, black eyes meeting grey ones, trying to impress his intent and determination into her. Nephis held his gaze without issue, and had even started to overwhelm him, when she spoke. "Stop? Stop what?"
"This, all of this. Stop provoking Gunlaug, stop trying to raise an army, stop inciting people to their own deaths. If you want to help people, fine, hell I'll even contribute, but change the way you're doing it."
"Change my method of helping?" Nephis tilted her head, like a child who geniunely didn't understand. The innocent gesture sent a wave of anger through him, and Sunny slammed his fist against the stone table. "Damn it Neph, this isn't helping! you're not helping them, you're killing them!"
The sound echoed dully through the small house, stone against bone, and for a moment the silence afterward was deafening. Sunny's hand throbbed, but he welcomed the pain. It anchored him, kept the heat in his chest from spilling out as something worse.
Nephis did not flinch.
She glanced briefly at his reddening knuckles, then back to his face, her expression composed—too composed. That calm, unyielding stillness only made the anger twist tighter inside him.
"Killing them?" she repeated quietly.
"Yes," Sunny snapped. "Killing them. You stand there and talk about hope and freedom and salvation, and then the Bright Lord answers by slitting throats in the dirt. And it won't stop at two, Neph. You know that. He's testing you. Testing how far you'll go before you break."
Her grey eyes sharpened, like steel being drawn from a sheath. "And what would you have me do instead? Bow my head? Apologize? Pretend I didn't see their bodies?"
Sunny dragged a hand through his hair, pacing once before turning back to her. "I want you to survive. I want Cassie to survive. I want me to survive. Right now, you're painting targets on all of us, and for what? So people can feel inspired for a few days before Gunlaug makes an example out of them?"
"They were murdered because they chose to stand beside me," Nephis said, her voice flat. "If I retreat now, what message does that send?"
"That standing with you gets them killed!" Sunny shot back. "That the strong can say pretty words and then walk away while the weak bleed for it!"
Something flickered then—fast, almost imperceptible—but Sunny caught it. Hurt. Or anger. Or both.
"You think I don't see that?" Nephis asked quietly. "You think I don't feel the weight of every death?"
"Then act like it," Sunny said, his voice dropping. "You're treating people like fuel. Like kindling for some grand fire you're planning to light. You say you want to save everyone, but you're already deciding who's allowed to die along the way."
She stood.
The scrape of stone against stone made Sunny tense, his shadow stirring at his feet. Nephis stepped closer, not threateningly, but with an intensity that made the small room feel even smaller.
"I am not deciding who dies," she said, each word precise. "The Spell already did that the moment it dragged us here. Gunlaug did that when he chose terror as his rule. I am giving people a choice—something they have been denied since the first day."
"A choice between submission and slaughter," Sunny replied bitterly.
"A choice between stagnation and defiance," she countered. "Between rotting slowly and risking something for a future."
Sunny laughed harshly. "You make it sound noble. But you're not the one lying in the dirt with your throat cut, are you?"
For the first time, Nephis' composure cracked.
Her jaw tightened, and silver flame flickered faintly in her eyes—not erupting, not uncontrolled, but there, restrained by sheer will.
"If I could take their place," she said, voice low, "I would."
Sunny froze.
"But I can't," she continued. "I can't because I have a greater goal to accomplish, a neccessity that I, and only I, can fulfill. So I will make their deaths mean something. I will make Gunlaug answer. And I will not stop just because he lashes out like a cornered beast."
Silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating.
Sunny looked away first.
"This is exactly what I was afraid of," he muttered. "You're already past the point where stopping feels like an option to you."
Nephis did not deny it.
"I won't force you to stand beside me," she said after a moment. "If you think I am wrong, you're free to leave. I won't hold you here."
Sunny snapped his gaze back to her, disbelief flaring. "You think this is that simple? You think Gunlaug will just… let me walk away? After today? After Gemma?"
She met his eyes steadily. "No. I think he will come for all of us eventually. Whether I act or not."
That was the cruel truth of it, and Sunny hated her for saying it aloud.
His shoulders sagged, exhaustion finally bleeding through the anger. "Then at least be smarter," he said quietly. "Less visible. Less… absolute. You don't have to light the whole Shore on fire to change it."
Nephis studied him for a long moment, as if weighing his words against something only she could see.
"I will consider what you said," she finally replied.
Sunny snorted softly. "You already told Gemma that."
"Yes," she agreed. "And I meant it then, too."
He pushed himself to his feet, suddenly unable to sit still another second. "Just… don't turn us into martyrs without asking," he said, voice rough. "Some of us aren't looking to die for an idea."
Nephis watched him walk toward the door.
"Sunny," she called.
He paused, hand on the frame, but did not turn around.
"I don't want you to die," she said. "Not you. Not Cassie. Not anyone."
He closed his eyes briefly.
"Then prove it," he replied, and stepped outside, leaving the house—and the quiet certainty of her path—behind.
Notes:In this timeline, Sunny did not tell Nephis about Rain, and Nephis did not reveal she had learnt deceit from him. Adam's presence made this unneccesary, because he had already laid the groundwork for Nephis, so she built up support faster than Sunny could realise what was going on.
Gunlaug's reprisal came faster than in canon too, and will only ramp up from here. And so, Sunny flees not because he fears and is wounded by Nephis, but because he fears for his life.
RevelationChapter TextIt was a beautiful day, Adam decided—bright, clear, and perfectly unsuited for the deed he was contemplating. Sunlight spilled through the high windows of the chamber, painting the stone floor in warm gold. Dust motes drifted lazily in the air, unhurried, unafraid. The world, for once, looked kind.
The perfect day to consider a murder.
Of course, Adam was well aware that some would disagree with his assessment. Sasrir, for one. Sasrir believed that the ideal time to kill a man was during a storm, or in the depths of winter, when the streets were empty and the world itself conspired to erase your sins. Rain washed away blood. Snow muffled screams. Darkness forgave everything.
Adam, however, preferred sunshine.
There was something deeply satisfying about committing atrocities beneath a clear sky. Something honest. Murder felt more meaningful when the world was watching and chose not to look away.
He turned slightly, inspecting his reflection in the polished surface of a metal plate propped against the wall. As far as equipment went, he was—objectively speaking—excessive.
The Starlight Shard rested on his back, its cloak blazing like a newborn sun at the collar before dissolving into a cascade of distant stars along its trailing hem. Every movement sent constellations rippling across the fabric, as though the night sky itself had been folded and stitched into place. In his left hand, the Moonlight Shard took the form of a ghostly stiletto, pale and elegant, drinking in ambient light rather than reflecting it. On his brow sat the Dawn Shard: a slender circlet of gold crowned with a single ruby, its depths glowing with a quiet, insistent radiance.
Three of the seven Lord Shards, directly in his possession.
Two more under his indirect control.
And if everything continued as planned, the remaining pieces would soon fall into place. Sunny should have retrieved the Midnight Shard during his escape from the Soul Devourer—assuming, of course, that the boy had actually killed the Centurian Demon. Nephis, driven by equal parts obsession and inevitability, would set out on her own odyssey to claim the Dusk Shard. Adam hadn't nudged her toward that path. Not consciously, anyway. Some stories simply knew where they were going.
Everything was unfolding exactly as it should.
His thoughts drifted, unbidden, back to Sunny.
Adam almost felt sorry for him.
Almost.
He couldn't afford to risk Sunny or Nephis detecting his presence, so Sasrir had not been sent to observe them directly. Instead, one of Adam's lesser followers—quiet, faithful, and eminently disposable—had reported that the Divine Shadow had left the camp in the dead of night. Alone. Angry. Unanchored.
He had not returned.
Adam doubted that he ever would. Not while his sanity remained intact, at least.
The Black Knight was gone, after all—the Fallen Devil already slain by Adam's own hand. So who, then, would disembowel the young man and leave him bleeding in a ditch? Who would fracture his mind and drive him into self-declared madness?
Adam didn't know.
And, more importantly, he didn't care.
[Fated] would handle it.
It always did.
What interested Adam far more was what Nephis had done in Sunny's absence. Had she dwelled on Rain's story? Did Sunny even tell her about his sister? He should have. Adam couldn't recall altering that particular thread of the narrative. In any case, he knew Nephis well enough to predict the outcome.
She would feel hurt. Regretful. Perhaps she would mourn the loss of their fragile companionship.
And then she would move forward anyway.
She's a bit like the Attack Titan, Adam mused with faint amusement. Always advancing. Always destroying her enemies, no matter the cost.
And Sunny… well. Sunny certainly had the "bonding mechanism" of an Ackerman, didn't he? Loyal to a fault. Bound by invisible chains. Destined to break in spectacular fashion.
The comparison pleased him.
Adam adjusted his cloak, turning this way and that, admiring how the light caught on the Dawn Shard's ruby. Even in the dimmer corners of the room, it glowed with an unearthly brilliance.
Then, without a sound, Sasrir slipped through the narrow gap beneath the door, his form rising from the shadows like a stain pulling itself upright. He took one look at Adam—resplendent, radiant, absurd—and visibly faltered.
He stared.
Then he sighed.
"Can you stop doing that?" Sasrir said flatly. "If Seishan or Caster walk in, they'll think you're a clown."
"I ain't no Fool," Adam shot back immediately.
Nevertheless, he dismissed the Memories in a ripple of fading light. The Starlight cloak dissolved into nothingness, the Moonlight stiletto vanished from his grasp. Only the crown remained. Adam lifted it from his head and cradled it in his hands, thumbs brushing the edge of the ruby.
Even stripped of its companions, the Dawn Shard was magnificent.
"Beautiful bugger, ain't she?" Adam said fondly. "Almost worth the price I paid for her."
Sasrir snorted. "What, almost losing the ability to play the guitar?"
Adam barked out a laugh. "I was thinking more along the lines of a piano or a church organ," he replied, grinning. "But yeah. A guitar works too."
The two of them fell into a brief, companionable silence, the kind that only came from shared secrets and shared sins. Outside, the sun continued to shine, blissfully ignorant.
Adam closed his fingers around the crown.
Yes.
It really was a beautiful day.
I traced the route along the map with a calloused finger, following the thin charcoal line from one jagged landmark to the next. Each bend and deviation had been argued over, tested, and re-tested until the parchment was creased and worn. When I finally looked up, my gaze swept over Kai, Sasrir, Seishan, Gemma, and Effie, my expression set into the hardest mask I could manage. It was not anger, nor fear, but resolve—cold, immovable.
"Follow this path," I said, tapping the map once for emphasis. "To the letter. It's the best route we've found after two months of scouting. The terrain has held, even with all the chaos spreading across the Shore. The monsters along the way are stronger than average, but they are also uniquely countered by you three." My eyes lingered on Kai, Effie, and Sasrir in turn. "If everything goes right, you'll reach the Dawn Shard and return before the next solstice."
Silence followed. It was not the awkward kind, but the heavy, suffocating kind that pressed against the chest. The distant howls of creatures beyond the camp seemed louder for it.
Effie broke first.
"Adam…" she began, her usual bravado stripped away, replaced with something careful and restrained. She shifted her weight, rolling one shoulder as if easing a phantom ache. "Gunlaug will kill you for this. Sasrir disappearing for six months is one thing, but when he realizes I'm gone too, he'll put two and two together." Her lips tightened. "Gunlaug isn't a fool. Not even with Seishan and Gemma"—she nodded toward them—"misleading him and feeding him half-truths. Are you sure you want to take this risk?"
"I need that Dawn Shard," I replied.
The words were simple, almost blunt, but there was no room for argument in my tone. I did not elaborate. I did not justify myself. I simply stated the truth.
The others—everyone except Sasrir—exchanged uneasy glances.
"Do you really trust them that much?" Seishan asked at last. Her voice was calm, measured, but there was a sharp edge beneath it. "I'm not trying to undermine your judgment, Adam, but you're sending three Sleepers halfway across the Forgotten Shore. They might die." Her eyes flicked briefly to Sasrir. "Even him."
"A Spire Messenger could attack tomorrow and kill us all anyway," Sasrir said flatly. He did not raise his voice, nor did he attempt to soften his words. "Death is cheap here. I don't fear it, especially if it's in pursuit of freedom."
Effie snorted quietly and raised a hand. "Same here. I was just worried about the fallout on Adam." She gave me a crooked smile. "I'm confident I can take care of myself."
Kai hesitated. He licked his lips, fingers tightening around the strap of his pack, then loosened them again.
"I… do fear death," he admitted, his voice low but steady. "I think anyone who says otherwise is lying. But I also know that, like Sasrir said, some things are worth fighting for." He took a slow breath. "And if I alone have to sacrifice myself so the rest of the Sleepers can go home, then so be it."
Seishan studied the three of them with an unreadable expression, her eyes sharp and calculating. Beside her, Gemma had no such restraint. His composure cracked instantly.
"Are you guys all fucking insane?!" he snapped.
He took a step forward, jabbing a finger in my direction. "Adam, Gunlaug will rip you a new asshole when he finds out. And don't even get me started on what he'll do to me if he learns I helped." His voice rose, anger and fear bleeding together. "Even if Sasrir somehow pulls off this suicide mission, what makes you think Gunlaug won't send Harus after Kai and Athena to make a point?"
He gestured sharply toward Kai and Effie. "You and Sasrir might be barely safe by virtue of being useful, but they aren't. Gunlaug doesn't forgive, and he doesn't forget."
I let her finish. Then I folded the map carefully and met his glare head-on.
"That's exactly why this has to work," I said. "And why we can't hesitate now."
"Gunlaug will absolutely retaliate," I continued, my voice steady despite the weight of what I was saying. "And he will do so savagely. It's in his nature. After so many years ruling the Forgotten Shore, it's the only method he remembers how to use." I paused, letting that sink in. "However, with a little luck—and a lot of skill—we can make it so I bear the brunt of his rage."
That finally drew a reaction.
Even Sasrir turned to look at me.
"Adam?" Seishan frowned, doubt threading through her normally controlled tone. "What are you talking about?"
"I have a regenerative Memory," I said plainly. "It's not as good as Gemma's Aspect—" I nodded toward him, and he met my gaze with a stony, unreadable expression "—but it's enough. It'll let me survive and recover from a tremendous amount of damage. As long as Gunlaug doesn't kill me outright… at worst, I'll spend a few months slipping in and out of a coma."
The words hung in the air.
"…You are insane," Gemma said finally, staring at me as though reassessing every assumption he had ever made. "Jesus Christ, Adam. Why are you so bent out of shape over this thing?" He spread his hands in frustration. "Yes, we need the Dawn Shard to open the Spire and go home. But you've been here for a year. You barely talked about it. And then, in the last three months, you've completely accelerated. What's chasing you?"
The others looked at me now—Kai with quiet concern, Effie with narrowed eyes and folded arms, Seishan openly scrutinizing. Even Athena, who had been silent until now, leaned forward slightly.
Only Sasrir already knew the answer.
Even so, he waited.
I held my silence for a long moment, then exhaled slowly and rubbed my face with one hand.
"You really want to know that badly?" I said at last. "Fine. I'll tell you." My gaze hardened as I looked around the group. "But you don't tell anyone else. Not a word. Or I swear to God I'll kick you into the Dark Sea myself."
I stood.
With a thought, I summoned the two Lord Shards in my possession.
The Cloak materialized first, erupting into existence in a soft cascade of silver sparks that drifted and faded before touching the ground. The Dagger followed instantly, its familiar weight settling into my hand as though it had always been there.
"Two Shards?" Athena frowned, eyes flicking between them. "Wait. I thought you only had one."
"We killed the Bone Tyrant," I said.
The reaction was immediate.
"The one by the Statue of the Saintess?" Effie asked sharply.
I nodded. "And how we did it… is what I'm about to show you."
Slowly, deliberately, I reached up and pulled the cross from around my neck. I held it out where everyone could see it.
Under the confused and increasingly uneasy looks of the others, I pressed my thumb hard against the briars crowning the top of the crucifix. The thorns bit into my skin, puncturing it. Blood welled and ran down the metal.
I didn't flinch.
I had done it too many times for that.
Kai sucked in a sharp breath. Effie swore under her breath. Gemma stiffened.
Seishan merely narrowed her eyes—until the crucifix reacted.
The mottled bronze surface began to peel and dissolve, sloughing away like dead bark. Beneath it emerged something else entirely: a molten, amorphous mass of pure gold, only vaguely retaining the shape of a cross.
It shone like the sun.
Heat and radiance flooded the space, overwhelming and oppressive. The air itself seemed to shimmer. Everyone else raised an arm to shield their eyes, grimacing as the light stabbed into their vision.
Then came the sound of sizzling.
Effie looked up, eyes widening. "Sasrir—"
Smoke was rising from him.
The veil of shadows that cloaked his face and shoulders began to evaporate under the golden light, thinning and burning away like mist under noon sun. For a split second, the outline of his features threatened to emerge—
—and then he reacted.
Sasrir collapsed into himself, his form liquefying into a pool of darkness that spilled across the floor and flowed behind me. In the next instant, he reformed as my shadow, clinging tightly to my feet, evading the radiance just in time.
The light slowly dimmed. The heat receded. The golden mass hardened, settling into a new, perfected shape before going dormant once more.
Silence followed—thick, stunned, and reverent.
"The Unshadowed Crucifix," I said quietly. "A Transcendent Memory of the Fourth Tier. The absolute nemesis of anything Corrupted aligned with Filth, Evil, Degeneration, Death, or Madness."
I looked at them one by one.
"Which, in case that wasn't obvious," I added, "is practically all of them."
Now even Seishan had lost her composure—but I wasn't finished yet.
Before the Legacy could say anything, I raised a hand. The gesture was simple, almost casual.
"I'm not done."
The effect was immediate.
The words themselves were unremarkable, yet they landed with the weight of a hammer. A Transcendent Memory of the Fourth Tier had already been revealed—something that should have been the absolute ceiling of absurdity. And yet, every person present felt it instinctively: whatever came next was meant to eclipse even that.
They waited.
I did not disappoint.
"Sometime around the winter solstice, one year from now," I said evenly, "four Sleepers will arrive in the Forgotten Shore."
I let that sit before continuing.
"One of them is unimportant. Forget about him."
I lied through my teeth about Sunny without hesitation. He was irrelevant to the point I was making, and I had no intention of explaining him to anyone.
"It's the two girls who matter," I continued, "as well as the man who will arrive slightly earlier than the rest."
Confusion flickered across their faces. Doubt, too—but none of them interrupted me.
"The first girl is a blind seer," I said. "A prophetess capable of seeing the future, as well as fragmented visions of the present. Her blindness is her Flaw." I paused. "Her Aspect rank is Sacred."
That finally caused visible reactions.
"She will be the one who points the way home," I continued calmly. "For all of us."
They exchanged glances—quick, uncertain, searching for some shared anchor of disbelief. Even so, no one spoke. My pace, my certainty, held them in place. Even Gemma, whose skepticism bordered on hostility, remained silent.
I did not slow down.
"The second girl is even more important," I said. "She is Nephis of the Immortal Flame Clan."
That name carried weight even here, even now.
"She was granted the True Name [Changing Star] by the Spell upon completing her First Nightmare. Her Aspect is, quite possibly, the most powerful frontal-combat Aspect ever recorded."
I looked directly at Seishan as I continued.
"She commands flames that burn as hot and bright as my Crucifix—and they heal faster than Gemma's Aspect ever could. I'm not exaggerating. I mean regeneration so extreme it can restore a skeleton to a living human in seconds."
Gemma stiffened despite himself.
"The seer points the way," I finished. "Changing Star kills everything standing along it."
Seishan was staring up at me now, her expression unreadable, her eyes dark and heavy. I had never been able to read more than surface impressions from her—not truly—but now even that was gone. As far as my Aspect was concerned, she was a void. A black hole.
"Changing Star… of the Immortal Flame Clan," she said slowly. Then she tilted her head, lips curling faintly. "And a blind prophet girl. I must say, Adam, your ability to spew fictitious drivel has completely eclipsed my understanding."
Her voice was sharp, dismissive, edged with contempt.
I looked down at her, unmoved.
"You didn't let me mention the third person."
A beat of silence passed.
Seishan exhaled through her nose and gestured with one hand. "Go on, then. Finish your clown show."
"The last person of interest," I said, taking a slow, deliberate breath, "is Caster Han Li of the Legacy Clans."
That name alone drew reactions.
"He possesses an Aspect that allows him to move at the speed of sound," I continued. "The cost is his lifespan. Every use ages him."
Gemma hissed sharply. Effie sucked in a breath through her teeth.
A Flaw like that was not merely dangerous—it was lethal.
Then I noticed Kai.
He hadn't reacted like the others. He hadn't recoiled, cursed, or stiffened. He was staring at me with wide, unfocused eyes, his face pale, as though the ground beneath him had quietly vanished.
I had forgotten.
Kai's Flaw was the ability to discern lies.
Which meant he had known.
From the very beginning, he had known that everything I said was true. Every impossible claim. Every act of madness. Every word.
Including my willingness—no, my readiness—to suffer mutilation, to suffer, to be broken beyond recognition, if it meant victory.
If it meant survival.
If it meant getting home.
Of course, I did have a plan to minimise my suffering as much as possible, so I wouldn't actually suffer that much, but there was still the rest. But what plan was without it? It's not like I was any stranger to pain either, be it in this world or the last. I doubted anything Gunlaug did could hurt as much as the Radiance. Or her.
"Why is Caster Han Li important?" Seishan asked.
Her voice was steady, clipped, already discarding the spectacle and drilling straight into the structural fault line of my claims. That, more than anything else, told me she was taking this seriously—whether she believed me or not.
"Because he was sent to kill Nephis," I replied without hesitation, "and he will attempt to do so quite faithfully."
For a fraction of a second, nothing happened.
Then the room detonated.
"That's bullshit."
Gemma was the first to move. He took a sharp step forward, the scrape of his boot against stone loud in the sudden chaos. His jaw was clenched, eyes blazing with open hostility.
"No," he said flatly. "That crosses the line. I was willing to entertain the rest as you being unhinged but sincere, but this?" He jabbed a finger at me. "You're telling us you know the identities, Aspects, Flaws, arrival times, and motivations of people who don't even exist yet—and now you're claiming a Legacy assassin is being sent to murder a Saint-in-the-making?"
He shook his head, incredulous. "Give me a better explanation. Right now. Because unless you can tell me exactly how you know all of this, I'm calling it what it is: fantasy."
Effie stepped in before I could respond.
She didn't raise her voice. That made it worse.
"Gemma's right," she said reluctantly. "Adam, I trust you. I really do." She glanced at me, then away, rubbing the back of her neck. "And I like you. As a friend. But this is too much."
She exhaled sharply.
"I can accept that you've got secrets. I can accept weird Memories, insane plans, and you throwing yourself into danger like a lunatic." A faint, strained smile crossed her face. "That's kind of on brand."
Then her expression hardened.
"But Caster trying to kill Nephis? That doesn't make sense."
She turned slightly, addressing the group as much as me.
"The Immortal Flame Clan are heroes. Old Guard. The ones who fought the Spell when everyone else was still figuring out what nightmares were." Her brows drew together. "I've been stuck in the Dream Realm for years, but even a child knows that."
She looked back at me, eyes sharp and searching.
"If Nephis showed up here, people wouldn't fear her. They'd worship her. She'd be treated like a saint. Hell, Gunlaug might try to control her, sure—but assassinate her?" Effie shook her head. "Why would Caster want her dead? What does he gain?"
Gemma seized on that immediately.
"Exactly," he snapped. "Legacies don't waste assets on pointless murder. Han Li isn't some mad dog. If he's sent, it's because someone powerful wants her gone—and that someone would have to be out of their damn mind."
The tension in the room had shifted.
Before, it had been shock and disbelief. Now it was confrontation—sharp, aggressive, demanding answers. Even Sasrir's shadow seemed restless at my feet, curling and uncurling like a living thing.
Kai said nothing.
He didn't need to.
His face had gone pale, his gaze fixed on the ground as if he were trying to steady himself against an invisible current. His Flaw gave him no refuge, no comforting doubt to hide behind. Every word I had spoken still rang true to him, inescapably so.
Seishan, meanwhile, had gone very still.
She did not interrupt Gemma or Effie. She did not react outwardly at all. But her eyes never left me, and the air around her seemed to tighten, as though she were quietly recalibrating her entire understanding of reality.
For her, the question was no longer whether I was lying.
The question was how much I knew, where I had learned it, and how far I intended to go.
I met Seishan's gaze without flinching, blue eyes locked into her blood-scarlet ones. There was no posturing in my expression now, no attempt at persuasion—only certainty.
"You're right, Gemma," I said evenly. "Sending an assassin after someone as beloved by humanity as a member of the Immortal Flame Clan is stupid. Publicly. Politically. Symbolically." I paused. "But when the ones responsible are the strongest collective force in the world, you'll find public opinion doesn't matter very much."
"What?" Gemma said sharply.
"I'm saying the Great Clans want her fucking dead," I continued, my voice hardening. "And so they are trying to kill her."
The words hit like a physical blow.
"That's impossible," Gemma snapped immediately. "The Great Clans are the pillars holding humanity together. They fund expeditions. They secure Dream Gates. They—"
"They control the narrative," I cut in. "They decide which heroes are celebrated and which ones quietly disappear."
Effie stared at me, disbelief slowly giving way to something colder. "Why?" she asked. "Why would they kill her? She's one of theirs."
"No," I replied. "She's a problem."
Silence fell again, heavier than before.
Seishan's eyes narrowed by a fraction. I was impressed by control-I had revealed one of the biggest secrets in the entire world, and while everyone else was breaking down, Seishan had barely flinched. But by now, I was sure I was on her shitlist, and we would have to have a nice, long talk. That would come later though, when we were alone.
"Nephis is a threat," I said. "The bloodline of the Immortal Flame is too powerful, too independent, and too ideologically incompatible with how the Great Clans operate." I gestured faintly with one hand. "They don't want symbols they can't control. They don't want heroes who overshadow their own efforts."
Gemma scoffed. "That's still not enough to justify assassination."
"It is when her existence threatens the balance they've spent decades constructing," I replied. "Nephis isn't content with surviving the Spell. She wants to end it. Or burn it down trying. And then there's the fact they destroyed her family."
That finally gave them pause.
Effie's jaw tightened. "You're saying… Song, Night and Valor destroyed the Immortal Flame?"
She looked over at Seishan, who said nothing to deny it and merely continued to look at me, her face as smooth as a lake.
"Not Night," I corrected. "Just the other two."
Kai finally lifted his head. His voice was quiet, but it carried. "He's not exaggerating."
Everyone turned to him.
Kai swallowed. "I can't tell you how he knows. But I can tell you he's telling the truth. All of it."
The room shifted again.
Gemma stared at Kai, then back at me, uncertainty creeping into his expression despite himself. "Even if I accept that," he said slowly, "how can you know all of this is happening? And why would they send this Caster guy into the Dream Realm instead of just killing her in reality?"
"Because it's a harmless gamble," I revealed "Because if they fail here, they can still try again in the rest of the Dream Realm. But if there's a chance they succeed, then it saves them the effort. And because his Flaw makes him expendable."
That earned a sharp intake of breath from Effie.
"The Great Clans don't see people," I continued. "They see assets. Caster Han Li is a rapidly aging blade with a limited number of swings left. Sending him to kill Nephis accomplishes three things." I raised a finger. "If he succeeds, the problem disappears. If he fails, at least they will have infomation on her capabilities. And if he dies…" I shrugged. "They lose nothing they weren't already prepared to discard."
Seishan was silent for a long time.
When she finally spoke, her voice was low, measured, stripped of all ornament. "Who told you these things?"
The question was not accusatory. It was surgical.
Gemma reacted instantly, snapping his head toward her. "Wait—Seishan, you're not actually entertaining this, are you?" His voice rose despite himself. "He's talking about your Clan. About your mother." He gestured sharply at me. "Don't tell me you honestly believe she dismantled the Immortal Flame. What, next you'll tell me she killed Saint Broken Sword too?"
That earned a thin, bloodless smile from me.
It was small. Fleeting.
But everyone saw it.
Gemma's face drained of color. His breath hitched, just once, like someone who had stepped off solid ground without realizing it. His knees did not buckle, but they might as well have—something fundamental had given way.
Seishan did not look at him.
"Kai was right about Adam," she said calmly. "He is telling the truth." Her crimson eyes remained fixed on me. "My mother did play a role in dismantling the Immortal Flame Clan."
The words landed with terrifying finality.
Effie swore under her breath. Kai went rigid.
Seishan continued, unperturbed. "That much, I already knew. What I did not know was that she intended to kill Nephis. Nor that Nephis would appear here, of all places."
Her gaze sharpened. "That is new information."
No one spoke for several seconds.
"So let me get this straight," Effie said finally. She had composed herself, but her expression was hard now, focused. "Within the next year, this Changing Star arrives and turns the Forgotten Shore upside down. She assaults the Crimson Spire—or dies trying—while an assassin sent by the Great Clans is hunting her."
She looked directly at me. "And you want to acquire the Dawn Shard before she does. Correct?"
"Exactly," I confirmed without hesitation.
I took a step forward, placing both hands on the table where the map still lay folded.
"If we don't act soon, we lose our chance. Completely." I looked at each of them in turn. "The seer traveling with her will be able to pinpoint the location of every Lord Shard. Not guesses. Not months of scouting. Precision. She'll know where they are and how to reach them."
Gemma swallowed hard. "Meaning once she arrives…"
"The board resets," I said. "Every advantage we've bled for vanishes overnight."
Seishan exhaled slowly. "And Gunlaug?"
"Will become irrelevant," I replied. "Either because Nephis breaks him, or because the chaos she brings makes his rule unsustainable."
Effie frowned. "So this isn't just about getting home."
"No," I said. "This is about timing. Leverage. Survival."
Kai finally spoke again, quietly. "If what Adam says is true—and it is—then once the seer arrives, secrecy dies. Power concentrates. Anyone without a Shard becomes a bystander."
Sasrir's shadow shifted, his voice emerging from it, calm and detached. "Which means this is our last window to act freely."
"Yes," I said. "Now or never."
Seishan closed her eyes for a brief moment, then opened them again. When she did, the uncertainty was gone, replaced by something colder and far more dangerous.
"You are asking us," she said slowly, "to move against Gunlaug, escape the sight of a seer, outwit the last inheritor of the Sun God and possibly interfere with the matters of the Great Clans, including my own Mother."
"I am," I replied.
"And if you're wrong?"
I met her gaze without blinking.
"Then we die slightly earlier than we would have anyway."
A long silence followed.
Then Seishan straightened.
"…Very well," she said. "Continue."