the Spire-ENDNotes:BGM: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vy63u2hKoPE&list=RDa-UUldE4X7I&index=2
Chapter TextStanding over Caster's corpse, Sunny tilted his head slightly.
Contrary to his expectations, there was no surge of triumph in his heart. Instead, killing the powerful scion of a true Legacy clan left him subdued—and faintly bitter. The victory tasted muted, heavy rather than sweet.
And yet… there was something else.
If not validation, then vindication.
As though a long-standing tension deep within his soul had finally been released, settling into something firmer, denser.
Steady.
With a quiet groan, Sunny stepped back, turned away from the body, and dismissed the Midnight Shard.
He was in better condition than he had feared. The countless cuts covering his body burned sharply, but none were immediately dangerous. Blood Weave was doing its work with tireless efficiency, stemming the loss of precious blood. Many of the wounds were already scabbing over, their edges knitting together at a visible pace.
The only truly serious injury was the gash along his side. Even that had stopped bleeding and would soon begin to heal. Until then, it would slow him only marginally—provided he was willing to endure the pain.
After a year on the Forgotten Shore, pain tolerance was one of his most thoroughly honed skills.
…I've had worse. Much worse. This is nothing.
Then another thought surfaced.
'Pity I couldn't steal that Jian of his.'
Then the entire Crimson Spire suddenly shuddered. This tremor dwarfed all the previous ones, violent enough to make it feel as though the colossal structure itself was about to collapse. The roar of fracturing stone thundered through the tower.
Almost simultaneously, absolute darkness swallowed everything. All light vanished from the vast interior in an instant.
Wh… what is happening?
Confused and reeling, Sunny forced himself to look around.
Why was it so dark?
A sense of foreboding crept up his spine. He raised his head and looked upward.
…What?
The furious light of the Crimson Terror was gone.
As he struggled to process that impossible fact, two realizations struck him in quick succession.
The first was internal.
He felt wrong. He could feel his heart churning in his chest, and it felt like...something there was mixed into it—an unfamiliar presence, like interference layered over his soul. He could not quite put it into words, but he knew one thing for certain:
It was not immediately harmful.
The second realization was far more urgent.
Crap!
Massive slabs of stone were plunging toward him from above.
Sunny scrambled to his feet and sprinted to the edge of the wide root, leaping off just as a colossal fragment smashed into the coral behind him, pulverizing it into dust. A violent shockwave slammed into his back.
For a brief, terrifying moment, he was in free fall. Then, sparks of light gathered behind him. The transparent blur of the Dark Wing wove itself into existence, catching him midair and allowing him to glide forward on the momentum of his jump.
As he neared the inner wall of the Spire, another deafening crash echoed behind him. Sunny thrust the Prowling Thorn forward. The Memory's tip sank effortlessly into ancient granite, arresting his descent.
Clinging to the blade, he pressed himself against the cold stone and gritted his teeth, waiting for the avalanche to pass and silently praying that nothing struck him.
Moments later, the Spire trembled one last time.
Then, it stilled.
Far below, destruction still raged—but this high up, the air grew quiet.
Slowly, Sunny opened his eyes.
He was alive.
The dome of the Crimson Spire was broken. Sunlight streamed through the fracture, illuminating the darkness with a soft, golden glow. Dust drifted through the air, sparkling like scattered diamonds.
Sunlight… sunlight?
Panic flared. Sunny scanned his surroundings for cover—then froze.
His twoshadows was calm.
Utterly calm.
Unlike before, when even artificial sunlight had threatened to annihilate his soul, it did nothing now.
…They did both seem mildly confused, though.
What the hell is going on?!
Uneasy, Sunny decided to be absolutely certain. He plunged his awareness into the Soul Sea.
What he saw there nearly made him lose his grip on the Prowling Thorn.
The entire expanse had changed.
Where once there had been nothing but darkness, blinding white light now flooded the tranquil waters. It flowed freely through his soul, making the silent sea ripple and swirl.
Above it all, the black sphere of the Shadow Core burned with darkly smouldering flames-and a second, slightly smaller Core orbited around it like a planet does around a sun.
Below the core, a massive whirlpool churned endlessly.
Stunned, Sunny stared at the unrecognizable landscape of his soul.
What… what the hell is this?
Unease gnawed at him. After a brief hesitation, he summoned the runes.
At first glance, everything seemed unchanged.
Then he noticed it.
Shadow Fragments: [1/2000.]
…No. Not everything was the same.
Within the cluster of runes describing his Attributes, new lines had appeared.
Sunny focused on them, holding his breath.
Attribute: [Soul Conduit.]
[Soul Conduit].
The Attribute had no description, and the Spell had made no announcement upon its appearance. Sunny studied the runes for several more seconds, then cast one last glance at the blinding white expanse of his Soul Sea before withdrawing.
He had no answers—but his intuition was screaming a warning.
He was almost certain that the strange, agonizing process triggered by absorbing the final shadow fragment had been interrupted. The white light permeating his Soul Sea felt profoundly unnatural, like a foreign presence forced into a space where it did not belong. The newly manifested Attribute was almost certainly connected to that intrusion, not to the natural state of the Shadow Core.
In fact, [Soul Conduit] felt less like Blood Weave and more like the mind hex left behind by the Soul Devourer.
It was not something Sunny had achieved.
It was something that had been done to him.
Most likely, the Attribute was the manifestation of the radiant force currently suppressing his Shadow Core. Rather than empowering him, it acted as a limiter—an imposed restraint, though its purpose was foreign to him.
For now.
But for how long?
Sunny clenched his teeth and adjusted his grip on the Midnight Shard. He summoned the Ordinary Rock, dismissed it, then ordered his shadow to sheath his body before reshaping it into the black-blue blade and back again.
Everything responded as it should.
At the very least, the new Attribute did not appear immediately harmful. He retained full control of his body, mind, Memories, and shadow manipulation. The only thing affected was the two Shadow Cores themselves, held in check, frozen in time.
At least… for now.
Lifting his head, Sunny stared toward the pinnacle of the Crimson Spire. Something inexplicable had happened up there—something that had rewritten the state of his soul.
Why speculate, when the answers were most likely waiting above?
Nearby, a massive slab of stone had wedged itself between the broken stumps of coral roots. More debris had piled atop it at sharp angles, forming a crooked path leading toward the distant sunlight.
Pushing off the tower wall, Sunny glided forward and landed on the slanted stone. After a brief pause, he began to climb.
The higher he ascended, the more sunlight flooded the Spire. Soon, the interior was nothing but stark beams of brilliance and pools of suffocating shadow. The world had been reduced to black and white, as though all other colors had been banished from this solemn place.
Eventually, Sunny reached the shattered dome of the Crimson Spire.
Beyond it lay a vast hall, hidden in darkness, its floor and ceiling both broken open to the sky, allowing sunlight to pour freely inside.
With a long breath, Sunny hauled himself over the edge and into the chamber.
He had reached the pinnacle of the Crimson Spire.
The lair of the Terror of the Forgotten Shore.
At the very top of the ancient tower, there had once been a grand and beautiful chamber. A wide circular aperture in its center had allowed sunlight to flood the interior at high noon.
That opening had later been choked by crimson coral.
Now, it was gone.
Whatever had transpired during Changing Star's battle with the Terror had shattered the chamber. Much of the floor had collapsed, dragging the coral down with it. The ceiling was cracked as well, though it had fared slightly better.
Through the jagged breach above, Sunny could see the endless white sky and the burning orb of the artificial sun.
He lingered on the sight for a moment, then lowered his gaze.
The first thing he saw was Nephis.
She sat on the fractured floor, staring into the distance.
Her condition was not as horrifying as on the night a dweller of the depths had dragged her beneath the cursed sea—but she was far from well.
The Starlight Legion armor was nearly destroyed, exposing terrible burns and deep gashes in her pale skin. As before, white flames seeped from her wounds instead of blood.
But the flames were weak.
Fading.
They flickered as though on the verge of being extinguished, and they no longer restored her flesh with their usual miraculous speed. Her injuries were healing—but painfully slowly.
The terrible, inexhaustible power that had always burned within her soul seemed, at last, spent.
Almost…
Following her vacant gaze, Sunny felt a chill crawl down his spine.
The Terror.
The being that had shaped the Forgotten Shore might once have resembled a human—but what lay before him now was a vision torn straight from a nightmare.
Sunny had expected to see the familiar form of the nameless goddess, the one whose likeness had been used for the statue—the girl turned into a vessel for the artificial sun.
Instead, there was a colossal abomination.
Its body was a grotesque fusion of crimson coral and mutilated human flesh. In some ways, it resembled the crimson golems at the base of the Spire—but this was something far worse. A mockery of life, radiating madness, wrongness, and immeasurable loss.
Where a face should have been, there were hundreds.
All of them twisted in expressions of blind agony, mouths stretched open as if frozen in endless screams. Their eyes were hollow pits of absolute darkness.
At least now, they were.
When the Terror had lived, those eyes must have burned with annihilating light.
…And it was dead.
The monstrous body lay sprawled across the shattered floor, limbs unmoving, its torso nearly torn in half. The edges of the ruinous wound were melted and scorched, leaving no doubt about its origin.
Changing Star's blade.
How… how is this possible?
Sunny stared at the fallen Terror, unable to reconcile what he was seeing.
How could Nephis have killed a Fallen Terror?
No matter how extraordinary she was, she was still a Sleeper. Even with the immense augmentation of the Dawn Shard, this should have been beyond her reach.
Something was terribly wrong.
This doesn't make sense.
…And yet, this would not have been the first Terror Nephis had slain. She had killed one in her First Nightmare as well, earning her infamous title.
But the difference was immeasurable.
One feat bordered on the impossible.
The other was unthinkable.
Sunny turned to her, hesitated, then spoke in disbelief:
"You… you actually killed it."
Nephis flinched, as though only now registering his presence. Slowly, she turned her head.
Her eyes were empty. Lost.
Only after several seconds did a flicker of recognition surface in them.
She remained silent for a long moment, then spoke in a hollow, distant voice:
"…Sunny. You are finally here."
He hesitated, uncertain how to respond. Seconds stretched between them, heavy with unspoken meaning, until finally Nephis blinked and looked away, her gaze falling on the fractured corpse of the Crimson Terror. Her sword hand trembled slightly.
"…Killed it? Yeah… I did. Got lucky, I guess…"
She exhaled slowly, and after a pause, added in a quieter voice:
"It was just a fake star, in the end."
Sunny allowed himself a faint smile, though his eyes remained sharp, unsoftened.
"Lucky… I know a thing or two about luck, Neph. A creature like this doesn't die because it's unlucky."
Nephis said nothing for a long moment, then sighed and lowered her gaze.
"It was evolving… trying to become a Titan. That transformation made it vulnerable. I just attacked when it was weakest. That's why it died…"
'Evolving… into a Titan?'
Noticing his surprise, Nephis grimaced and gestured at the artificial sun above them.
"Have you thought about what we've done?"
Sunny followed her hand, looking up at the blazing orb. A frown creased his face.
Amid the chaos of battle, he had neglected to consider the full consequences of the fight—or the chain reaction they had set in motion.
Why did the light of the artificial sun now annihilate every living soul it touched? For generations after the fall of the ancient civilization, it had not behaved like this.
But then the Vessel had become corrupted, transformed into a Nightmare Creature—the Crimson Terror. And simultaneously, the seals imprisoning the curse of the all-consuming darkness had been destroyed.
…So the corrupted sun had never existed alone. It had always been tethered to the dark sea.
Until today.
Sunny realized the truth: he had assumed the sun restrained the dark sea—but perhaps the reverse was also true. When he had banished the ancient curse, sealing it beneath the earth, the sun had finally been freed. That's why its light had changed, burning with an annihilating white brilliance.
It was no longer restrained. Its light was now unbound.
Nephis nodded, as if reading his thoughts.
"Yes. The artificial sun doesn't just shine on the Crimson Spire. It reaches across the Forgotten Shore. As we fought through the tower, nearly every living creature in the area was incinerated. Every death, every soul… funneled into the Spire like a colossal hecatomb, fueling the Crimson Terror's evolution."
She had struck precisely when the Terror was in the throes of transformation. Not a coincidence. Sunny recalled the thoughtful look she'd worn as she observed the gates of the Spire, giving the Dreamer Army the order to advance. If the Crimson Terror's transformation was anything like his own, then Sunny could imagine Nephis' victory. The pain he had went through was crippling, after all.
He shivered. The Dream Realm around them was now almost entirely empty of life. Only a few Nightmare Creatures survived—those hidden in shadows, or powerful enough to resist the sun's rays.
A flood of souls on that scale was more than enough to push the Crimson Terror toward its next stage… or regression. Whatever form evolution took among Nightmare Creatures. Sunny didn't know the exact mechanics, but the annihilation of nearly an entire region of the Dream Realm could certainly trigger it.
Now, though, the Terror lay dead. Its corrupting influence was gone, and the sun's light had returned to a semblance of normalcy.
…But nothing was ever that simple.
The Spire shuddered again. A slab of stone fell from the chamber floor, and the sunlight dimmed slightly.
Sunny looked up. The artificial sun now burned less brightly than before, as if slowly fading. No vessel remained to channel the soul essence into its furnace.
Interrupting his thoughts, Nephis spoke, her voice hoarse and weary:
"What happened to the others?"
Sunny peered down through the fractured floor. The balcony below, where the Gateway shimmered, was empty. No humans remained, and the coral golems lay inert, their semblance of life extinguished with the Terror's death.
"Everyone has escaped."
Nephis exhaled, a faint relief passing through her. After a pause, she asked softly:
"And… Caster?"
Sunny's eyes met hers, cold and indifferent.
"…I killed him."
She stayed silent a long moment, then whispered as though to herself:
"So that's why…"
A bitter laugh escaped her lips. She pressed her hands to her face, overwhelmed by some hidden grief, before murmuring, muffled:
"You shouldn't have killed him, Sunny…"
He snorted, sharp and defensive.
"Yeah? Why not?"
Nephis remained motionless a moment, then slowly lowered her hands to rest on her knees. Her face was pale, drawn.
"Have you… checked your Attributes?"
Sunny nodded, curiosity flickering across his features.
"I did. There's a new one. Soul Conduit."
Nephis stared into the distance, expression unreadable, then nodded.
"Same for me."
He raised an eyebrow. "Any idea what it means?"
She didn't answer at first, turning her gaze to the fractured chamber walls. Finally, she said:
"This tower is a giant soul machine. It was built to collect soul essence and channel it into the artificial sun. But it can't operate without one critical component… a human. Someone to serve as the fulcrum, the conduit for all those souls."
Her voice dropped to a whisper:
"…The vessel."
Sunny's eyes widened. He looked at the corpse of the previous vessel—the creature that had once housed the sun's power.
Nephis had destroyed it, removing a key element of the Spire's mechanism. And the Spire had replaced it.
With them.
The two remaining humans on the Forgotten Shore, conveniently sheltered from the sun's annihilating rays within the tower.
Fate, perhaps.
"So what does that mean for us?" Sunny asked. "Are we going to… turn into something like that thing?"
Nephis shook her head slowly.
"…Not yet. Not for a long time. The Terror had absorbed most of the souls in the area after the battle, and there's no one left to feed the sun. The Labyrinth is destroyed too."
The Spire trembled again, deep down below, a deafening roar of collapsing stone echoing upward.
Sunny tilted his head.
"So what's the problem? Can't we just leave?"
Nephis's grey eyes, alight with quiet intensity, fixed on him.
"You don't understand."
Her teeth ground together.
"The Crimson Spire is a machine. The Gateway is part of it. Neither functions without a human Soul Conduit. There must be a Vessel inside the tower for the Gateway to work."
She rose slowly, swaying slightly, then pierced him with her gaze.
"Which means… only one of us can escape."
Sunny looked at the distant ring of the Gateway below, then back at her.
"I take it you won't stay behind and let me go?"
Her eyes flared with nascent white flames. "…I was going to ask you the same."
Sunny smirked.
"Not a chance."
Sunny stepped slowly away from the edge of the chasm, finally stopping opposite Nephis. He regarded her steadily, dark eyes unreadable, devoid of warmth.
"You know, Neph, I'll be the first to admit I'm a real piece of shit."
She raised an eyebrow at that, confusion and surprise flickering through her dead grey eyes. Sunny didn't stop. "And precisely because of that, because I always look at everything in the world like it will naturally leave me behind, or be taken from me...I know that look in your eyes."
He stared at here, level eyed and stoney faced. "You knew this day was coming, didn't you? The way you look at me now...it's the look of someone that has already said goodbye. The same look I had prepared when we set out with the hundreds of Sleepers earlier today."
Long before the Dark City, long before they even knew of the Crimson Spire, Cassie had shared a vision. Her voice had trembled as she described it:
"At first, I saw… a boundless darkness, sealed behind seven locks. Something vast was stirring within. I felt if I looked directly, I would lose my mind. One by one, the seals broke, until only one remained… and then that too shattered."
The first part of her vision depicted the day the Vessel of the Artificial Sun had gone mad, and the curse of the all-consuming darkness had escaped the prison forged by the seven ancient heroes.
"I saw the human castle again, only at night. A lonely star burned in the black skies, and under its light, the castle was consumed by fire, rivers of blood running down its halls. I saw a corpse in golden armor sitting on a throne; a woman with a bronze spear drowning in a tide of monsters; an archer attempting to pierce the falling sky with her arrows."
The lonely star was Nephis, the herald of ruinous change, who had bathed the Bright Castle in blood to become its ruler before watching it burn. The corpse in gold was Gunlaug, slain by her hand. The woman with the bronze spear and the desperate archer were Effie and Kai, nearly killed during the siege of the Crimson Spire.
"In the end, I saw a colossal crimson spire. At its base, seven severed heads guarded seven locks. At the top…a terrifying abomination made of too many faces."
The seven heads belonged to the giant statues that had guarded the Star Sigil Sunny had used to banish the dark sea.
The monster was the Crimson Terror itself.
But now, standing here, Sunny realised that Cassie had seen more than she revealed. Or rather, more than she had revealed to him alone.
Sunny exhaled, looking away from Nephis. "What did Cassie tell you? What did she really see?"
Changing Star observed him with the same patience on her face she always wore, like she was a doll that just happened to be granted sapience. "She said she saw a dying angel," she revealed slowly, each word profoundly pronounced. "And it was being devoured by writhing darkness."
Sunny laughed despite himself.
Was this Fate? Emotions burned in his chest, too hot and rancid and vile and bitter to name. She knew, she knew, she always knew, SHE KNEW!!!!
SHE HAD LIED TO HIM! SHE HAD KEPT SECRETS FROM HIM, SHE HAD BETRAYED HIM, SHE HAD CHOSEN NEPHIS!
After everything he had done for her, all the moments they had shared, they had saved each others lives, watched each other backs. All the jokes, quiet laughter, gentle smiles...and all the while she was plotting his own death.
Madness drowned out Sunny. It could only be called that, for it was no less consuming than the Dark Sea itself. Hatred, grief, shock and, above all else, a desperate disbelief that refused to accept it, a flicker of stupid hope.
But despite that flicker, he had prepared for this moment for years. It was like Caster had said: he was a mongrel, a street rat that was born in a gutter, belonged in a gutter, and would die in a gutter.
Unless he was willing to do anything to break free.
Hope was extinguished first, followed by the madness. Or rather, the latter wascarefully wrapped up and concealed deep within his heart. Where it would become the sharpest of blades in he future.
Sunny's lips curled into a shadowed smile.
"So… Cassie really chose you over me?
Her silver eyes ignited with white sparks, answering with another question:
"Can you blame her?"
Sunny said nothing. Instead, the Midnight Shard materialized in his hands. He assumed a battle stance.
Nephis mirrored him, her silver sword weaving from blinding light.
Neither truly intended to kill the other—they needed the other alive, at least until one could pass through the Gateway. But the loser? How long would they survive if beaten, broken, unable to resist further?
Staying behind meant death.
And now that Sunny thought about it, maybe ripping out her heart wasn't such a bad idea.
The ancient tower trembled violently around them, on the brink of collapse. On the precipice of ruin, Lost from Light and Changing Star prepared to cross blades, their fates intertwined in the most inescapable way.
Sunny and Nephis faced each other across the ruined chamber, the tension between them almost tangible, crackling like static at the point where their eyes met.
The white flames leaking from Changing Star's wounds flared violently, stitching some injuries closed while leaving others raw, then retreated back into her soul like molten metal cooling in a forge. Her face contorted with pain, and a faint, ghostly radiance began to glow beneath her ivory skin.
At the same moment, the shadow coiled around Sunny, suffusing him with vitality and unrestrained power. He inhaled deeply, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, every nerve on edge.
How… how can this end…
The thought formed, but he crushed it immediately, banishing it from his mind.
This was the final hurdle between him and the real world—the deadliest. Sunny had fought unspeakable horrors on the Forgotten Shore, but none were as terrifying, as lethal, as Changing Star. His focus had to be absolute. There could be no distraction, no hesitation, no emotion.
No doubt. No fear. No regret. No mercy.
Only determination. Only resolve.
Only a murderous will to survive. To seek revenge against the ones who had wronged him so.
'Bastards, all of you...FUCKING BASTARDS!'
Dust motes floated in the beams of white light piercing the broken roof, stark shadows stretching and swelling with anticipation. Nephis raised the pommel of her sword to her shoulder, her eyes igniting with pure white flame.
And then she lunged.
Fast!
Fast—but not fast enough. Sunny met her assault with the Midnight Shard, bracing for impact. The collision rocked his arms and sent a shock through his entire body, as if he'd struck a mountain.
Their blades locked briefly, then separated, and the silver sword lashed again, again, again—each strike from an angle he hadn't anticipated.
Sunny fought back in a blur of blocks and deflections, chaining them into one seamless flow. Still, each strike staggered him, pounding his bones like sledgehammers of adamantine.
How… how is she this strong…
How could Nephis be so fast, so resilient, so devastatingly precise?
Sunny had fully saturated his core, achieving the peak of human potential, augmented further by the two shadows. He was closer to an Awakened than a Sleeper. No ordinary human should match him in strength, speed, and endurance.
Yet, she did. More than that—she was stronger than him, exponentially so. Her movements were lightning-fast, her strikes merciless, her technique flawless. She moved less like a human and more like a Nightmare Creature.
…No Sleeper should ever have been this formidable. It was impossible.
And yet… it wasn't.
Impossible… impossible…
Deflecting another blow, Sunny shifted to the side, searching for a weakness. But the opening was a trap; the silver blade lashed at him again, grazing his hand and nearly severing it.
Something is very wrong…
Was the augmentation of the white flame stronger than his shadow? Or was something else at play? He knew from observing her fight with Gunlaug that her flames were roughly comparable to his shadow—perhaps slightly stronger—but they should not account for this.
Yet somehow, Nephis had grown immensely more powerful since then.
How?
At least the blade wasn't burning with annihilating white fire. Had it been, the Midnight Shard might already have been shattered. That was a small mercy.
Blow after blow, they exchanged attacks and briefly disengaged. A flash of silver slashed past Sunny's face—just millimeters from his eye—leaving a shallow cut dripping blood down his cheek. One millimeter to the right, and it would have blinded him.
He deflected another reverse strike, leaned in to ram her shoulder, but she sidestepped effortlessly, forcing him to block from a disadvantageous angle and stagger back.
Curse it!
Their clash was a violent symphony of strength and skill, terrifying in its precision and speed. One was darkness incarnate, the other radiance, and yet both moved like predators in perfect harmony with death itself.
The real battle was not in the swings of steel, but in the minds behind the blades. Insight, prediction, and manipulation determined every motion. Nephis could foresee moves before they were made, bending her opponent's rhythm to her will. She controlled the flow of combat with uncanny genius.
Sunny was no novice. He too manipulated, anticipated, and countered. He knew her well enough to resist being pulled into a trap.
For a dozen brutal seconds, neither could seriously wound the other. Though Sunny was battered and outmatched, he held the tide of her assault at bay.
…For now.
They stepped back, paused briefly, chests heaving, faces smeared with blood and sweat. No words were needed; nothing could be said that hadn't already been expressed in the violence of their clash.
All that remained was action.
Sunny's lips curved into a subtle, devious smile. Something in Nephis had shifted—the moment he had been waiting for.
The wounds partially healed by the white flame began to reopen, crimson bleeding anew.
And as if awakening from a long slumber, the Blood Blossom charm dangling at his neck stirred, feeding the Midnight Shard with an insatiable, predatory hunger.
Enhanced by the Blood Blossom, the austere tachi felt impossibly alive in Sunny's hands—lighter, sharper, brimming with a cold, ruthless purpose. It was as if the weapon itself had a single mind, one thought: to find the enemy and taste her blood.
Finally…
Nephis struck again, her face a frozen mask of alabaster, expressionless and cruel. Only the white flames blazing in her eyes betrayed the storm within her, burning like the void of godless heavens above them.
Sunny gritted his teeth and met her charge. Their blades collided, the impact reverberating through his arms and shoulders. But this time, the Midnight Shard moved almost on its own, intercepting her strike just a fraction of a second faster, guided by the subtle will of the Blood Blossom.
Each movement became just a little sharper, just a little faster, each parry a fraction more precise. The difference was slight—but enough.
Until now, Sunny had barely dared to attack. Nephis had moved like water, unpredictable and overwhelming, her every strike a challenge to his defenses. Even with his mastery of the Saint's measured, counter-focused style, he had barely been able to restrain her, to temper the wild flow of her assaults.
Now, with the Blood Blossom awakening in him, he could resist her more effectively, even if only slightly.
…and every wound she sustained made him stronger. Every drop of her blood feeding the tachi's hunger, every moment their clash prolonged, amplified his resolve.
Soon enough, the tip of his blade found purchase, scratching the edge of her gauntlet.
This is just the beginning…
But before he could savor the thought, everything shifted.
Nephis changed. Perhaps she sensed the shift in momentum, or perhaps desperation and pain forced her hand. Whatever the reason, she abandoned her calculated, measured strikes and descended upon him in a torrential flurry, her guard lowered, every movement lethal and unrestrained.
Caught off-guard, Sunny barely blocked in time. The silver longsword scraped along the Midnight Shard, shoving it against his shoulder. Inches from his throat, steel sang across steel as they struggled, bodies pressed close. He could feel her breath on his cheek, her heat against his skin.
Damn it…
She was just too strong. Too fast. Too precise.
The blade pressed forward, cutting into him, drawing blood. In reflex, Sunny released the tachi with one hand and thrust a fist forward—summoning the Kunai at the last instant.
Nephis anticipated it. She twisted, letting the strike graze her breastplate, opening just enough space for him to push her sword from his neck.
Before he could recover, she slammed him with the pommel of her sword. Pain exploded across his skull, vision obscured by blood, even Shadow Sense failing him.
Think… think!
His mind raced, calculating the lethal possibilities: a downward strike to sever an arm, a vertical blow to crush his skull. He acted instinctively, throwing the Midnight Shard upward, guided by muscle memory honed through countless hours of training.
The tachi met her blade, deflecting the strike. His head was safe.
But the cost was immediate. The edge of the tachi slammed into his clavicle, cutting deep into flesh and scraping bone. Pain seared through him.
…but he did not falter. He trapped her hand, locking it with his own, and drove the Midnight Shard forward, piercing soft tissue.
Nephis screamed, shocked, and shoved him away. Sunny crashed to the floor, gritting his teeth.
Damn… damn, this hurts…
But I hope it hurts you thrice as much, you evil bitch.
He wiped the blood from his eyes and rose to his knees, scanning the battlefield. Nephis leaned on her sword, a deep gash bleeding freely across her abdomen just below the shattered edge of her Starlight Legion Armor. Her grimace spoke of pain, but not defeat.
Their eyes met. For a heartbeat, the world shrank to that glance.
Then Sunny looked down at the tachi lying between them. He had lost it in the chaos.
Both froze.
Ignoring the searing pain in his shoulder, Sunny lunged for the hilt of the Midnight Shard just as Nephis rushed forward, sword raised.
But fate intervened. The Crimson Spire groaned. The ancient tower shuddered violently.
With a deafening roar of breaking stone, the floor beneath them shattered, collapsing into the abyss below and dragging them into the darkness.
Sunny plummeted through the collapsing Spire, the floor beneath him shattering like brittle glass, raining shards of stone in every direction.
The Crimson Spire groaned and quaked, its walls cracking under the strain, as the dying light of the artificial sun dimmed to a pale, flickering glow. Tremors coursed through the ancient tower, wide fissures snaking across its granite walls.
He and Nephis had burned through the Forgotten Shore together—banishing the darkness and destroying the corrupted sun's vessel. They had laid waste to the cursed land. And now, one of them would have to bear the consequences of their cataclysm.
Amid the chaos, Changing Star twisted in midair, sword angled toward him. Sunny met it with the Midnight Shard, their blades colliding in a spark of steel and instinct. The force of the impact sent them spinning, the transparent wings on their backs catching the air, supporting them just enough to avoid a fatal fall.
For a heartbeat, Sunny felt himself falling endlessly. Then the Dark Wing fully manifested, a blur of shadow and motion, cradling his weight.
He twisted to dodge a massive slab of granite hurtling toward him, using it as a step to propel himself forward. The Midnight Shard flashed toward Nephis' wings—but she intercepted with the silver longsword, their weapons clanging in a deadly rhythm.
Thrown together in midair, their bodies collided, spinning and twisting. With nothing solid to push off, each used the other as leverage, limbs entangling in a violent dance. The closeness was almost intimate—but there was no love here, though Sunny imagined for a fleeting second there could have been. Only lethal intent remained now, though.
Sunny's forehead slammed into hers, shattering the fragile bones of her nose. At the same moment, her armored fist crashed into the half-healed wound on his side left by Caster. Pain exploded through him.
Then her other fist slammed into his face, reinforced by the weight of the silver sword. He staggered, vision spinning, body reeling.
Above, a massive granite slab fell. Blood streaming down his face and from his wounded side, Sunny bent his knees and shoved off Nephis' body, narrowly avoiding being crushed. They flew apart, gliding on their enchanted cloaks, spiraling through the collapsing chamber.
Everywhere around them, the Spire convulsed. Walls cracked, layers of stone broke free, plunging into the darkness below. The dying sun above faded further, and below, the runes around the Gateway shimmered unevenly, faltering in their glow.
Sunny calculated. He cast a glance at Nephis, then dismissed the Dark Wing, surrendering flight. He chose the fall, hurtling through the dark air toward the balcony at terrifying speed.
As the runes of the Gateway came into focus, he summoned the enchanted cloak once more. The stone floor rushed up beneath him, the jagged silhouettes of dead coral golems looming in the shadows. Fear gripped him—he was falling toward death.
At the last instant, the Dark Wing manifested again. Sunny activated the enchantment, slicing the fall into a horizontal glide. He arced through the air, crashing onto the balcony with a roll, pain rocking his body, then leapt to his feet and ran toward the Gateway.
Rivers of pain flowed through him, but he pushed on, stepping into the shimmering circle. A strange, dreamlike sensation overtook him—like the instant before waking from a lucid dream. His body began to glow, ethereal light emanating from his skin.
But before the radiance could flare fully, a shadow fell from above. Nephis descended like a vengeful angel, silver sword slicing through the air, white flames roaring in her eyes.
The runes flickered and vanished as her feet landed within the iron ring—cutting the soul-flow from the Crimson Spire. Without the conduit, the Gateway could not function. Only by being thrown outside could the runes ignite again.
Sunny thrust forward, aiming for Nephis, but she was faster, deflecting his blade with ease, moving with uncanny precision. He rammed into her, all his weight driving a strike, but felt cold steel graze his ribs, blood flowing anew.
The collision sent them both rolling down the steps, tumbling out of the Gateway's circle. As soon as the first of them crossed the runes, the shimmering light blazed back to life.
Sunny lay on the cold stone, pain and exhaustion consuming him. A low, tortured moan escaped his lips. Something deep inside had broken. He was weak. Cold. He didn't want to move.
But a voice within—sharp, relentless—refused to let him surrender.
I'm not done yet… I'm not…
Sunny lay sprawled on the cold stone, gasping for air as if the very act of breathing was a struggle. Every inhale felt like drowning.
His body was a map of agony. The gash in his side from Caster's jian, the wound across his clavicle that had nearly severed it, the long, burning slice across his ribs… countless smaller cuts, bruises, and fractures. Pain pulsed in every fiber of him.
And yet, he was still alive.
Still capable of fighting.
Still unwilling to surrender.
Around them, the Crimson Spire groaned and trembled, slowly succumbing to collapse.
Gritting his teeth, Sunny forced his body upward. Every joint and muscle screamed in protest, but he silenced it with sheer will, rising to his feet. The Midnight Shard scraped against the stone as he lifted it, a metallic whisper of defiance.
Nephis mirrored him. The young woman staggered upright, hand pressed to the deep wound in her abdomen, her posture slumped but steady. Changing Star looked battered, her fearsome presence dimmed. Bloodied, pale, twisted in pain—yet her eyes burned on, white flames dimming but resolute, cold and unwavering.
The ethereal glow of the Gateway bathed them both.
Through that light, Sunny drew a ragged breath. "...Let's finish this," he rasped.
Finish it, like he should have done instead of fleeing into the Dark City alone like a craven. Carrying Cassie's birthday gift to him in his Soul Sea. A posioned chalice, one he ignorantly supped from.
Nephis' gaze lingered on him for a moment before a grin spread across her bloodstained teeth.
In an instant, she lunged, raising her sword and kicking up a cloud of dust.
They clashed beneath the Gateway's dais, blades whistling through the air, steel ringing against steel, drowning out the sound of collapsing stone. Wounds and exhaustion weighed on both, yet neither faltered, pouring every ounce of remaining strength into the fight.
The Blood Blossom around Sunny's neck surged, reacting to Nephis' bleeding. His sword seemed to move of its own accord—striking faster, harder, deadlier than he could on his own. He had never been more powerful.
And yet, it wasn't enough.
Nephis remained overwhelmingly strong, faster and more precise than any human should be. She was no longer just a warrior—she was a living weapon, a demon of silver steel wreathed in pale white flames.
Sunny's strikes scored deep, but her retaliations were twice as brutal. His left arm began to go numb, his grip on the Midnight Shard faltering. His lungs burned, each breath wet and ragged. Blood streamed into his eyes, blurring his vision; he had to rely heavily on Shadow Sense just to track her movements.
I can't… I can't keep this up…
He needed a plan. A trick. A desperate, clever strike that could turn the tide.
But nothing came. His mind, usually brimming with schemes, was empty. Nephis knew him too well. Too intimately. Two worlds' worth of understanding, all stacked against him. Victory seemed impossible.
And so he gambled.
Summoning every shred of strength left, Sunny forced his perception to shift. He began weaving the strange, punishing movements of the incomplete Shadow Dance into his technique, molding his mind into a mirror of her battle art, aiming to use it against her.
If there was anyone whose movements he could emulate to perfection, it was Nephis. His companion, his friend, his pupil—his shadow in every sense. He had trained endlessly, learning her style, studying the grace, speed, and deadly elegance she wielded. Sasrir had taught him much, but that had been one sided-Sunny had plundered that knowledge and skill by observing in secret. The deepest and most intimate touches of Sasrir's dance were still beyond him.
Not so for Nephis.
Now, pushed beyond exhaustion, beyond pain, Sunny strained his body to its limit, forcing each motion to reflect her dance with absolute precision.
Every move tore at him. Every strike sent shivers through the brittle core of his chest, a fragile piece of him that threatened to fracture under the strain. With each maneuver, a new crack appeared, growing closer to breaking. He just needed to endure a little longer… push a little further… understand a little deeper…
But then, after a final, agonizing motion, the brittle center of his chest shattered. For a heartbeat, Sunny felt himself fall like a marionette whose strings had been severed. Horror widened his eyes.
And then the Midnight Shard shivered.
In the next instant, the hidden reservoir of his soul unleashed itself. A flood of restorative power surged through him, washing away exhaustion, pain, and despair, leaving behind renewed strength and focus.
When something deep in Sunny's chest shattered, the hidden enchantment of the Midnight Shard—[Unbroken]—activated. Power surged through him, flooding every muscle, bone, and nerve, fortifying him for one final, desperate stand.
The Blood Weave flared in response, its restorative magic amplified, completing the vicious cycle: pain and near-death were swept away even as his strength skyrocketed. He was no longer merely surviving—he was ascending to the peak of his mortal potential.
Nephis' silver longsword screamed through the air, aiming to pierce him—but the austere tachi met it with a forceful push. For the first time in the long, brutal duel, Sunny did not recoil. The violent shock vibrated through his arms, but it no longer staggered him.
He had reached the absolute pinnacle of what a human of his rank could achieve. Shadow cloaked him, the Blood Blossom sent his Memories into frenzied overdrive, and the Unbroken enchantment strengthened his body. He was as strong as a mortal could be before awakening.
And yet… even now, she was still stronger.
"How?! How, damn it?!" he growled through gritted teeth.
Blood poured from his wounds, his attacks still fractionally behind, his defenses still a heartbeat late. The gap between them had shrunk, but it remained. He was still losing.
The Crimson Spire quaked, the dim sun flickered, and massive shards of granite crashed down, showering the balcony with sharp, deadly rain. A shockwave threw them both to the ground, but they rose immediately, fueled by murderous resolve.
Sunny dodged a thrust of silver steel and slashed his tachi across her forearm, cutting deep into muscle. Nephis stepped forward and slammed her pommel into his wounded clavicle, exploding pain through his mind. A scream tore from his chest, raw and primal, and for a moment, he realized it was his own voice. Then it became a growl.
He refused to end here. Refused to yield. There was still a chance to turn this fight.
All the while, the second step of the Shadow Dance lingered at the edge of his mind, just out of reach. Before the shard's enchantment had awakened, his body could not channel it. Now, with Unbroken flowing through him, he felt it was within his grasp. Each strike, block, and step could finally manifest the elusive technique he had chased for so long.
Shadow Serpent had yet to recover from the near lethal blows Caster had gifted it, and Marble Saint, the Echo lent to him by Adam, was still in poor condition. At most, summoning hr would buy him a second or two of time, and that was if Nephis didn't shatter her to pieces the second she started forming.
And then Adam would probably kill him even if he escaped here alive.
He exhaled through the pain, deflected another blow, and for the first time stopped watching her movements. Instead, he observed her shadow.
It moved like a reflection of herself, lifting a shadow sword, striking in perfect imitation. And in that moment, a door opened in Sunny's mind.
Everything clicked. Fragmented insights became whole. Every subtle motion, every rhythm and pause of her style—it was all clear.
Before her blade could strike, he shifted, raising the Midnight Shard, and delivered a mirrored strike that forced her back.
"…Like that?" she hissed.
She attacked again, precise and inhuman, and he mirrored her, colliding in a storm of sparks. His style became fluid, graceful, lethal—like hers.
But it was not mimicry. Shadow Dance was not mere imitation. It was essence, understanding, reflection of intent. Sunny adjusted his grip, let the technique flow through him, and suddenly, he could see her intentions clearly, anticipate the rhythm of her steps, perceive attacks she had not yet made. He was no longer her mirror—he was her shadow, the essence of her combat distilled and turned back against her.
Her eyes widened as she sensed the change. Their blades clashed again, and Sunny's strikes now flowed with sharp, decisive intent. Her movements, once perfectly controlled, faltered—her assaults still furious, but now less measured.
He could feel the advantage, small but undeniable. And he seized it.
He sidestepped, letting her blade tear through his bicep instead of his chest, pain exploding through his mind. With a twisting motion, he grabbed her arm and drove his fist into her elbow, shattering bone. She screamed, tried to strike with the flat of her sword, but it was weakened by her missing limb.
Dropping to one knee, Sunny slashed horizontally with the Midnight Shard. The blade tore through her abdomen, emerging in a fountain of blood from her back. Momentum carried her forward; her sword slipped from her grasp and clattered to the stone. She swayed, then collapsed. The white radiance of her skin dimmed.
Sunny exhaled heavily, standing over her, back to the Gateway's light. "…Over," he murmured.
After a moment, he walked toward her, shadow falling over her bloodied form. Nephis tried to speak, struggling:
"It's… it's not over… I can… I can—"
Sunny kicked her sword aside, voice low and exhausted:
"You can't. It's over, Neph."
He turned to the Gateway, hidden in shadow, and said, simply:
"You're done."
He had won.
And yet, as he looked at the shimmering light, the taste of victory was bitter. Why was it so hollow? Why did it feel so heavy, so empty? He had survived everything—the nightmares, the battles, the impossible odds. He had clawed his way here. And yet his heart refused to celebrate.
One step toward freedom… and then he froze. The Crimson Spire shuddered again, stones raining down. He glanced back at Nephis, kneeling amid rubble, bloodied and broken, and then returned to her side.
He kneeled, leveling his eyes with hers, and clapped his hands once, twice.
A dark, furious voice escaped him:
"Congratulations. You almost fooled me…"
Nephis stared at him, exhaustion etched into every line of her face, struggling to comprehend his words.
The radiance beneath her skin had vanished, replaced by faint white flames that licked weakly at her wounds. They no longer healed; they barely kept her alive, stemmed the bleeding, and kept Changing Star from collapsing outright.
A few seconds passed before she spoke, her voice low, ragged with blood:
"What… are you talking about?"
Sunny's snarl cut through the tension.
"Drop the act. Your performance was impressive, truly. But don't forget who taught you how to deceive in the first place-you admitted it yourself. Did you really think you could fool me?"
Nephis remained silent for a moment, then whispered,
"I… don't understand."
His voice trembled with anger.
"Why did you do it? Why?"
Nephis blinked, drawing a shaky breath, but she said nothing, only meeting his gaze with pain and confusion.
Sunny spat onto the stone floor.
"Why did you throw the fight?!"
She lingered, then said quietly,
"…I didn't."
A bitter smile twisted Sunny's lips. Shaking his head, he said,
"You almost made it work, you know. I almost believed it. But once I could think clearly after everything… something didn't add up. No matter how I looked at it, things didn't make sense."
The Spire groaned, showering them in falling stone, but Sunny ignored it, pressing on.
"First— I know what you're capable of. You can maintain two augmentations at once. You did it against the Spire Messenger guarding the Dusk Shard—one to empower your sword, another to strengthen yourself. You healed wounds and increased your power simultaneously. Yet, against me, you only used one. Funny, isn't it?"
Nephis stayed quiet. Then, in a small voice,
"My powers… were exhausted…"
Sunny spat again, voice sharp.
"I might have believed that… if not for the mistakes you made. At the top of the Spire, you had a chance to end it. Cut off my arm. That would have finished the fight instantly. The most efficient, decisive strike. But instead… you went for my head, hitting with the flat of your blade."
His expression darkened.
"Someone else might make that choice—but not you. Not Changing Star, the sword saint. The only reason to pass on that golden chance… is because you never truly wanted to win. Isn't that right?"
Pain rolled through him like a tidal wave as he continued,
"…And why did you wait at the top of the tower for me? If you wanted to escape, you could have gone straight to the Gateway as soon as you realized the Soul Conduit. You would have reached it first, without giving me a chance. But you didn't. You just waited… quietly. So… why?"
He shouted, voice cracking, raw with fury and confusion:
"Why pretend to fight with everything if you planned to let me win from the start?!"
Nephis looked at him, pale but unyielding. Then she sighed, eyes drifting away.
"Maybe… because I am far from home, too."
Sunny stared, frowning.
"What? What the hell does that mean?"
She turned to him, calm, and smiled faintly.
"Alright, Sunny. You caught me. Now go. This tower won't last much longer."
Suddenly, the white flames from her wounds flared brighter, burning stronger. Her injuries began to close again, slowly but steadily. Her eyes glimmered with a fearsome light.
Sunny ground his teeth.
"Like hell I will! Not before I get an answer."
Nephis shrugged wearily, meeting his gaze.
"And what is it you want to know?"
Sunny clenched his fists.
"Why fight me at all if you planned to let me win?"
She exhaled, tired. Her voice calm but edged with weight:
"Isn't it obvious? Because if I didn't… you wouldn't have gone."
She looked away, lingering for a moment, then continued,
"People… people are usually either cruel or kind. But not you. You can be both. Ruthless or compassionate. Cruel or kind. So I created a situation that forced you to show the side of yourself you needed to survive. To leave me behind without mercy."
Sunny's fists trembled.
"But why? Why doom yourself to save me? What about your goal? Didn't you say you'd sacrifice anything—anyone—to achieve it?!"
Nephis gave a bitter smile.
"Why? Am I the only one allowed to change? Can't I… grow too, Sunny?"
She turned away, voice heavy with invisible weight:
"…Yes. I said I would do anything. But words and actions are different. Once it began… once people started dying because of what I set in motion… once defeat followed defeat… it was worse than I imagined. It was… unbearable."
Sunny shook his head in disbelief.
"So… that's it? You gave up? After everything, you just quit?"
Changing Star remained quiet, then slowly shook her head.
"…You don't understand me at all, do you, Sunny?"
Facing him, she smiled faintly.
"Give up? No. I didn't give up. I didn't abandon my goal. I just realized… I wasn't ambitious enough."
The white flames in her eyes flared brighter.
"I will destroy the Spell and anyone in my way. I will achieve everything I desire. But I will do it my way. Without compromise. Without sacrificing my sense of right and wrong."
Her pale, bloodied face glowed in the white light, fierce and unyielding.
"Manipulate people, cause deaths? I'd do it again, if necessary. Because it was just, because they had the chance to fight or flee. There is no better way."
For a moment, passion blazed in her eyes. Then her gaze softened, looking down.
"…But leaving you behind would be vile. Wrong. Like abandoning a helpless blind girl to die. I won't do it. To forsake you… would make me no better than those I fight to destroy. What's the point of reaching my goal if I become what I hate?"
She locked eyes with him, burning with determination:
"No, Sunny. My goal hasn't changed. But the wrong path is worse than not reaching it at all. And why do you care? Isn't it madness? Isn't it… vile? So go! Why hesitate?!"
Sunny stared, frowning.
"I hesitate because of you, fool. And you?"
Nephis smiled faintly.
"What about me? Do you think I'll die here? No. I'll survive. I'll escape somehow. No matter how long it takes, nothing will stop me. You know it won't…"
He looked to the shimmering Gateway. The crack in the stone balcony threatened the runes, destruction imminent. Salvation was within reach.
Turning from the dais, Sunny shook his head.
"Nephis, did you know...that day, when we talked last, before I left you...I had something I wanted to say. Something I've always wanted to say, but never had the courage to even after we trekked halfway across this fucking hellhole together."
Nephis blinked at him, confused, and miraculously even the Crimson Spire stopped collapsing for a moment, like it also wanted to listen in.
"But," Sunny released a heavy breath flecked with blood. "I think saying it outright would be too much. So insead, let me tell you a story. About me, about what exactly awaits for me back in the Waking World...and why I'm not leaving you here alone just to experience it."
Before Nephis could say anyhing, Sunny's voice had already left his lips. "I had a sister."
She froze, eyes dancing with confused flames rather than violent ones. Sunny knelt down in front of her, looking deep into those eyes, sighing wisfully. "You see, our parents died when we were little. She got adopted, but I ended up on the streets. Life wasn't sweet for me—far from it. It was bitter, harsh, unforgiving. So, even as a kid, I assumed it had been the same for her. That's why I became obsessed with finding her. I imagined saving her, protecting her… being a family again."
Sunny grimaced, a shadow crossing his face.
"But how could someone like me—penniless, forgotten—find her? The city databases are no joke. Even if they work, to access anything requires citizenship, and a high enough rank at that. But I was willing to do whatever it took. So I saved. A street kid doesn't earn much, but I stashed away every credit I could."
A darker expression settled over him.
"Even if I had barely enough to eat, I kept putting aside whatever scraps I earned, no matter how degrading the work. After four or five years, I was nearly seventeen and finally had enough to hire a private investigator."
He smiled faintly.
"There was this detective who sometimes hired people like us to gather intel. Expensive, but reliable… at least I thought so. I gave him all my money and told him to find my sister. And you know what? He did. About a month later, he handed me a piece of paper with an address. I went there."
Nephis hesitated, and despite her broken and battered body she still listened, voice quiet:
"So… what happened? Did you meet her?"
Sunny rubbed his face, glanced at the ruin above, the sky slightly peeking through layers of collapsed coral.
"Sort of. I actually saw her near the tram terminal, but I didn't recognize her at first. I couldn't even remember what she looked like clearly. There she was, a girl of twelve, in a neat school uniform, walking the same way I was. Only when she entered that house—at the address—did I realize it was her."
He fell silent for a moment, his voice flat, almost hollow.
"It was already dark. I think it was raining. The house… it was in a really nice district. They had the whole place to themselves. One family living there. A lawn… a big window shining light into the night. Watching them through it was like watching a show on a screen."
Sunny tried to smile, recalling the scene, but it faltered.
"Outside, in the shadows at the edge of that light, I watched. Her parents… they loved her. They treated her well. There was real food, enough to never go hungry. She had pretty clothes, proper books, even cute younger siblings. They were all laughing, smiling… happy together."
Nephis asked softly, like the voice in his his heart:
"And then? What did you do?"
Sunny didn't answer immediately. He remembered standing there, watching, looking down at himself—frail, dirty clothes, bruised knuckles—and realizing how utterly out of place he was. Funnily enough, his current state was similar, if not ten times worse.
After years of dreaming of finding her, saving her, he was faced with a simple truth: she didn't need him. She might not even remember him. And returning to her life… wouldn't help her at all. He had nothing to offer but trouble, misery.
Out there, on that dark, rainy night, something inside him died. Something in his heart went out forever.
No matter what came after, nothing could touch the darkness he felt in that moment.
He lingered in the shadows a long while, then slowly backed away, turned, and walked into the night.
A few days later, the first symptoms of the Nightmare Spell appeared in him.
And the rest… was history.
And when Sunny revealed as much, he stared intently at Nephis. "So you see, Princess, there is actualy no reason for me to go back. My only remaining family is better off not knowing I exist, and while I do still harbour some affection for them, Kai and Athena are both Adam's sidekicks-and that man gives me the heeby jeebies."
Then he laughed, a dark, guttural and entirely malevolent laugh. "And to be honest, if I see Cassie right now, I would probably crush her neck."
Nephis frowned up at him. "Don't joke about that."
Sunny sneered back down at her. "I'm not, Neph. So really, keeping me with you is actually protecting Cassie's life."
She hesitated, closing her eyes, shaking her head slowly.
"…No. I can't. I can't let you stay, Sunny. Go. Meet your sister. At least in the real world, there's something waiting for you. For me… only emptiness, bloodshed, graves. If I return, it will repeat—the Bright Castle, over and over. Go while you can."
The Gateway's runes shimmered, nearly fading.
Sunny gritted his teeth.
"…No."
Nephis' eyes glimmered with sorrow.
"Leave me, Sunny. Please. Go. And don't hate Cassie...she did the best she could with what she had."
He shook his head stubbornly.
"I don't want to. To leave, or to forgive."
Changing Star was silent for a long moment. Then she spoke, voice low but crushing:
"Go… Lost-"
Sunny's eyes widened and his body instinctively moved forward, the Prowling Thorn already shimmering to life in his hand, aimed right at her eye. His body had moved before his mind could follow, as the feeling of triumph and elevation-twisted, malformed, forced upon him-began to bubble up in his soul the moment the first syllable.
"-From-"
The second word, and the dagger had only just barely formed between his knuckles. His mind ran faster than ever before, like all the oxygen in his blood, all the Essence in the two Soul Cores was being funneled to that singular, specific organ.
He wasn't going to make it.
"-Ligh-"
Yet she would never finish speaking those forbidden words, never complete the utterance of his True Name.
Because a katana forged from pure shadow had pierced through the back of her throat and up out her mouth, spilling silver blood down her front.
From behind, Sasrir emerged from the darkness, and twisted his katana brutally. "Not this time, bitch."
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