The week of frantic preparation was over. The suffocating twilight of the Dark City bled through the grime-streaked window of Kane's temporary sanctuary. He was meticulously packing his possessions into his [Shrink Chest], a relic of warped, black iron capable of swallowing immense volume, its surface constantly shimmering with a disturbing heat.
Inside the Chest, he placed the tools of a professional survivor: high-grade provisions, vacuum-sealed bandages, an arsenal of honed daggers, enough Soul Shards to repair his current Memories, and the infamous Primordial Demoness Statue. It was a grotesquely detailed miniature, carved from petrified shadow, radiating a chilling sense of profound, ancient evil. Beside it, Kane placed the single, worn photograph of his parents he had retrieved from the Cathedral—a fragile tether to the humanity he feared losing in his dreams.
Linia stood watching him, her turquoise hair a vibrant splash of life against the dead grey of the room, her expression stoic but her eyes heavy with concern.
"All ready?" she asked, her voice low.
"Yeah," Kane confirmed, the finality of the word a stone in the quiet room.
He carefully lifted the Primordial Demoness Statue—the Memory that had saved Linia from the Husk Monster's bite but had condemned him to his monstrous Class—and handed it to her.
Linia's eyes widened slightly in shock. "Why are you giving this to me? You risk your life leaving it behind."
"It is better that it stays with you," Kane replied, his gaze fixed on the necrotic shadow creeping up her arm, even now subtly visible beneath the poultice. The statue was a repellent, an anti-life relic whose sinister aura prevented the rapid proliferation of the Husk-Blight.
Linia looked at the statuette, her fingers tracing the cold, sharp edges of the demon's miniature horns. "You know this thing can't cure me. It will simply prevent the infection from spreading rapidly enough to kill me before you return."
Kane nodded, his own cynicism absolute. "Still, it's better for you to have it than for it to be uselessly packed away. It's the only thing keeping the darkness contained."
After securing the lid of his chest, he performed the necessary ritual, summoning the spectral presence of Missy. The Echo shimmered out of his Soul Sea, her form vibrating with predatory eagerness.
"Are you ready?" Kane asked the translucent warrior.
Missy's mouth, a jagged, barbed crescent of pure light, stretched into what passed for a delighted smile. "I am excited, Master. I smell the promise of violence and the fear of the deep Realm."
Suddenly, Linia stepped forward and handed Kane a precisely folded parchment. It was covered in densely written script: a comprehensive set of questions on the linguistic structure of Ancient Feysac, Jotun, and Ancient Hermes.
Kane and Missy stared at the object of utter dread.
Missy, completely flabbergasted, manifested a tiny, spectral hand and rubbed her forehead. 'Don't tell me you are giving us homework?'
Linia's smile was serene, yet utterly demanding. "Learning is eternal, Kane. You will be traveling for several months with nothing but violence to focus on. If you give your mind a break, you will forget the intricacies of the Ancient Languages. You need to keep the higher functions of your mind sharp to resist the Dream's madness."
Kane sighed, the weight of the expedition suddenly multiplied by the threat of academic rigor. "Missy, it seems we need to do it."
The talking Echo slumped, her spectral enthusiasm completely gone, replacing it with the horror of intellectual strain. 'I hate living mortals. They always invent new ways to suffer.'
With a final, shared look of determination, Kane embraced Linia. "I will return."
He then dismissed Missy back into his Soul Sea, equipped his [Wood Shell]—a brutal, chitinous black armour that snapped around his body like the shell of a massive beetle, cloaked with a heavy, blood-red mantle—and left Linia under the guardianship of his most trusted ally.
He found Shakti waiting outside. "I will leave. Take care of her," Kane said, the request a command.
Shakti punched him lightly on his armoured shoulder, the contact surprisingly firm. "Leave her to me."
Kane strode through the ruins, his black armour blending seamlessly with the shadows, arriving at the designated rendezvous point: Changing Star's Lodge. Nephis, Cassie, and Caster were already waiting, their gear impeccable. To Kane's surprise, Kai was also there, looking stiff and formal in his tailored lamellar armor.
"Let's leave, shall we," Kane said, wasting no time on pleasantries.
The group—Nephis, Kane, Cassie, Caster, and Kai—set off, moving quickly and efficiently through the cursed, labyrinthine ruins, traversing the very grounds of Kane's former isolation to reach the outskirts of the Ancient Cathedral—the hidden fortress of Sunny and Effie.
Soon, they emerged into the square before the Cathedral. The pale, morning sun struggled to crawl through the smog, washing the vast, ancient structure in a terrifying, washed-out light. Sunny and Effie were waiting. Sunny, in his ragged, dark attire, and Effie, in her archaic, bronze battle-dress.
Effie, spotting Kai, smiled widely and moved to greet him. Sunny, however, was immediately focused on the archer.
"Night… uh… why are you here, buddy?" Sunny asked Kai, barely concealing his surprise and suspicion.
Kai smiled, the effort strained. "Ah! I'm very happy to see you too, Sunny, my friend. Lady Nephis has asked me to join her on this expedition, and after careful consideration, I have decided to agree."
Sunny blinked, his confusion genuine. "Alright, I know that I'm crazy, but when did you lose your mind too? This is a suicide mission."
Kai looked at him with a strange, nervous expression. "Wait... crazy? What do you mean, you're crazy?"
Sunny sighed, waving away the tangent. "Never mind."
He turned to Nephis, his demeanor instantly shifting from playful annoyance to ruthless calculation. "About your request. I'm ready to join the expedition, but on one condition. I will not become a part of your cohort. Rather, you can provide sufficient compensation to acquire my services."
Nephis regarded him with her inexorable, cold expression. "Do you have something in mind?"
Sunny grinned, the expression sharp and dangerous. "As a matter of fact, I do. Behind us, you can see a magnificent ancient cathedral." He gestured toward the colossal, menacing silhouette of the building, its gothic spires reaching into the gloom. "Inside that cathedral lives a creature which is called the Black Knight. He's a Fallen Devil, a Shadow of immense power. In return for my help during the expedition, I want your help after it is concluded. Once we return...**"
He paused, letting the silence draw out the tension.
"...I want you to help me kill it."
A dead silence fell upon the small square, broken only by the faint, eerie whistle of the perpetual Dark City wind.
Kane, however, was utterly calm. "It is not a problem, Fallen Devil, right?" he asked, his voice flat, devoid of the expected shock. "Do you know the ins and outs of that Creature?"
Sunny stared at Kane, flabbergasted by his utter lack of reaction, the affirmation in his tone, rather than any fear. "I spent months studying the bastard. I know his every ability, every trick, and every weakness. The cost has been high, but the knowledge is complete."
Kane nodded, accepting the claim as absolute truth. "That should do. I don't know about others, but I can join hands with you, I guess."
Caster, finally broke the silence, his voice strained. "We are only Sleepers, after all. How are we supposed to kill that Black Knight of yours? A Nightmare Creature of his rank and class... it's suicidal."
Kane looked at Caster, his armoured form utterly imposing. "Yes, but since we know about this Nightmare Creature beforehand, its nature, its attacks, and its critical weaknesses, it is not impossible to deal with."
Nephis, the Changing Star, glanced at the ominous facade of the cathedral. She shrugged, accepting the terrible price of their alliance without hesitation. "This is acceptable."
Sunny smiled, the grin radiating a dangerous relief. "Oh, right. Speaking of preparations..."
While everyone was still processing the terror of fighting a Fallen Devil, Sunny, with characteristic eccentricity, took the rucksack off his shoulders and placed it on the ground. He opened it, revealing a soft, unsettling shine—a mound of Soul Shards.
"Welcome to Sunny's Brilliant Emporium!" he announced with theatrical flair. "This here is around fifty Soul Shards, each of them of the Awakened rank. Since we will be venturing into the Labyrinth, I've decided to give you guys an opportunity to empower yourselves a bit before facing the terrible dangers of that ghastly place. Of course, I'll give you a family discount..."
He continued his sales pitch, his eyes sharp. "The rules of the emporium are rather simple. You give me Memories, I give you shards. I don't care about how powerful or useful the Memories are. In fact, the worse, the better! Any useless junk you have gathering dust in your Soul Sea will do. If you don't have any—no problem. You can just promise to give me a Memory in the future, once you receive one in the Labyrinth."
"Not bad, right? No need to thank me, really..."
Kai, staring at the unsettling pile of pure essence, raised his eyes to Sunny. "Sunny... buddy... please forgive my bluntness, but why do you need all these Memories? They're useless junk, by your own admission."
"Uh, you see... how should I put this?" Sunny grinned, the explanation vague and conspiratorial. "Let's just say that there's a beauty I know who just can't get enough of them. If you know what I mean..."
Kane, however, stepped forward and spoke, his voice cutting through the banter. "Nah, I don't need Soul Shards. I will suffice with the Memories."
Kane, unlike the others, absorbed raw essence directly from the death of Nightmare Creatures, and the Echo, Missy, had already saturated her Core with more than enough fragments. He had no use for the converted power of the shards;
Everyone in the cohort and Sunny looked at him, confused by his bizarre refusal of free power.
Sunny asked, bewildered. "Are you sure? You can get stronger"
Kane simply nodded,
Without wasting any time, Nephis, Cassie, Effie, Kai, and Caster swiftly absorbed the Soul Essence from the shards they collected, the sudden influx causing their eyes to briefly glow with internal power as their strength increased.
When everyone was done absorbing their required essence and getting accustomed to the sudden shift in power—the low, constant thrum of increased vitality—the cohort was finally ready to move out.
The seven of them headed south, traversing the cursed and forgotten city.
Nephis and Kane took the lead, Nephis's stark, black and white plate armour contrasted sharply against the faded grey stones of the ruins, a perfect silhouette of cold justice. Kane, on the other hand, was an ominous shadow; his [Wood Shell] armour—black, segmented chitin—and his heavy, blood-red cloak seemed to seamlessly blend with the ruins, making him look like a piece of the architecture that had suddenly risen to walk.
A step behind her and to the right was Caster, clad in a polished scale mail that glistened unnervingly in the dim light, like the shifting skin of a silver serpent. To her left was the tall and powerful figure of Effie, clad in her archaic bronze armour, the heavy plates suggesting overwhelming, brutal strength.
A few steps further back, wearing his elegant lamellar armour made out of burnished brown leather, walked Kai, the archer, his movements fluid and watchful. On his back, a quiver full of heavy, fletched arrows acted as a visual deterrent. Cassie walked beside him, her light tunic and bright cloak seemingly out of place, but now there was a subtle, deadly addition: a sheath containing a graceful rapier was attached to her belt. Her vulnerability was masked by the promise of precision.
At the very back, radiating misery and exhaustion, was the anchor of the team: Sunny. He was pale, the dark circles under his eyes evidence of sleepless months. He wore ragged, light armour made out of dark-grey fabric and black, lusterless leather. He was periodically lowering his gaze and grimacing, as though unaccustomed to being in the sun—the final image of a man broken by the Nightmare, forced into the light.
Their long, terrifying journey to the edges of the Forgotten Shore had finally begun.
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