"ARE YOU CRAZY!?"
Captain Steele of the NQSC police force could feel his blood pressure rising. He was usually a stern and composed man with nerves of steel—a joke he'd heard a million times already—the kind who could take charge in any situation and have no one complain about it. Today, however, was proving that even that wasn't enough.
This was the tenth time some dumb kids had shown up at the station and shouted that in the last hour.
It didn't help that the government had announced the release of the director's cut of A Song of Light and Shadows today, on Sir Sunless's birthday. He only hoped they wouldn't cut his scene from it. He didn't speak, and the actor didn't look much like him, but he still felt a sense of pride in being on it.
Another scream came, and he decided that he was going to kill the newbie who bragged about this being the station where Sir Sunless had faced his first nightmare.
"Captain, you're scaring Robert. Again," Officer Harris said admonishingly. Harris was no less irritated by the day's events, but he was a massive stick in the mud and a stickler for the rules. Steele had almost seen him cry that one time a newbie didn't properly secure his gun.
"The thrice-damned idiot deserves it," Steele muttered, glaring at the newbie even harder to prove his point.
"Sir, we've talked about your language before."
When had the man become his damn mother!?
"You spoke, I pretended to listen." Great, now Harris looked hurt.
"Are you crazy!?"
Twelfth. At least these ones weren't so loud.
Robert, wisely, left to get rid of the dumb kids before Steele was tempted to pull out his gun—whether on the kids or on him was left a mystery. Maybe it wasn't a bad idea to shoot a few times into the air or fake the emergence of a gate.
Forget about it; the paperwork would kill him if the higher-ups didn't do it first. Though the muffled screams of the kids outside still tempted him like a siren's song.
What a mess. The last thing he expected when he met that emaciated kid was that one day he would become one of humanity's brightest—darkest?—stars. It still felt surreal at times. The kid hadn't inspired any confidence when Steele had first seen him.
"He already has one foot in the grave," was the first thought he'd had back then.
And that's what he and his men kept thinking while they waited in tense silence for an Awakened to arrive. Steele had the dubious honor of watching many aspirant sleepers undergo their first nightmare, and among them, he could count on one hand the number who had survived without rigorous preparation beforehand. And there would still be fingers left.
It was nothing short of a miracle that the kid had somehow survived the first nightmare and then an afternoon with that psycho Soul Reaper. And now? There were saints less famous than the kid. He even heard ridiculous theories, like how the kid would return in humanity's greatest moment of need.
The government needed to tone down the propaganda. Any day now, they would proclaim him some kind of messiah. Steele almost snorted in amusement at the thought. The kid was younger than his own son, yet somehow, he had already made himself a paragon of humanity.
And yet, despite his misgivings about the Sleeper, the kid was still out there, fighting the good fight in the Dream Realm. As far as Steele was concerned, every nightmare creature the kid killed was one less humanity had to worry about. That alone had earned him Steele's respect.
So, despite his growing irritation, he raised his cup of coffee in silent toast.
"Happy birthday, kid. Come back soon; I fear what story they'll make up about you next."
-------------------------------------------
Julius sat down and exhaled in both relief and exhaustion.
He was getting old. Being an Awakened helped, but his age had caught up with him all the same.
Maybe he should retire soon? It was disheartening, but fewer and fewer students bothered to take his classes, which had culminated in today's result. Another winter solstice was upon them, and he had no students to say goodbye to. None had signed up for his classes.
Bah, what did they know? They could kill a nightmare creature ten different ways, but none of them had a clue how to start a fire, build a shelter, or purify water to make it safe for drinking. A disgraceful state of affairs, that was for sure.
He shook his head sadly. Where would the world go without proper education?
The silent ping of his communicator broke him out of his morose mood. He had received a message. It was from his good friend Obel. There were few old fossils like the two of them left, and they liked to stay in touch.
The message was a preliminary analysis of the sudden and unexplainable extreme precision showcased by the Obel Scale. Just last week, it had managed to predict the opening of a gate a full day in advance.
Usually, he would love to delve into the report and then spend long hours discussing it with his friend. But today, he didn't feel in the right mood for that.
It was the winter solstice, the day in which many young and brave students—even if they weren't his—would be sent into the Dream Realm and be forced to face its horrors on their own. In a good year, twenty percent of them would come back. In a bad year, none would.
Maybe it was his age making him soft, but his heart broke a little each winter solstice. So many lives extinguished, so many bright minds gone just because they were unlucky with their landing. How many possible Da Vincis had they lost to it? How many Einsteins? How many Teslas?
The Spell was like the gods of old that he had been so enamored with in his youth. With one hand, it offered delectable rewards—power, wealth, an increased lifespan (an irony if there ever was one; the number of Awakened who had died of old age could be counted on one hand)—and fame. With the other, it brought ruin. It sowed calamities and pitted its champions against impossible challenges until they died or broke under the pressure. The ratio of suicide among the Awakened was concerningly high.
He sighed dejectedly. If there was a day he hated, it was this one. It was quite ironic that it was also the birthday of one of his most cherished pupils.
His mind drifted to his favorite student. How was he faring? Was he eating well? Was he getting enough sleep? Did the things Julius had taught him help?
He missed being able to visit Sunless whenever he wanted to. Before Changing Star had taken him, he would visit almost daily and read a book aloud in his presence. He knew very well that the spirit was completely unaware of what happened to the body in the Waking World, and yet, he still hoped that it somehow helped bring some comfort to his student. If his efforts had made even the smallest difference for the young man, he would consider himself satisfied.
A wistful smile appeared on his face. He had promised that his teachings would make him immortal, and so far, he hadn't been proven wrong.
"Happy birthday, Sunless. Come back soon, my dear student. There are still far too many things left for me to teach you."
-------------------------------------------
Jet slashed with her glaive, and an arc of blood flew into the air, followed by an agonized scream.
Kurt fell and writhed on the ground, every sense overtaken by the immense pain he must have been suffering after receiving such a vicious strike directly to his soul. Once upon a time, the screams of her prey had horrified her to no end. She lost sleep for a full week the first time she heard it.
Nowadays? It barely fazed her anymore. At some point, all of the screams had merged together, leaving in their place an amorphous mass that did nothing but mildly disgust her. This particular man disgusted her more than most.
"Please, Jet, stop. We were friends once," Kurt begged between ragged breaths, his face pale and covered in cold sweat.
"Funny that," she replied with a cold smirk. "I guess being a condescending asshole instead of treating me like a living corpse is considered being a friend."
"It was better than what you deserved!" The man screamed, all pretensions of civility gone. His face contorted into an ugly rictus of pain and anger.
"Maybe I did," Jet said flatly, "but it doesn't change your current fate."
"They were just mundanes, for Spell's sake! Their only worth is producing more of us. It was just a mistake. We all commit them sometimes!" Kurt pleaded, his voice laced with desperation.
"A mistake, you say? Then what about all the other killings after the Slaughterhouse? Or were those mistakes too?" she asked, her voice icy. It still pained her that the bastard had managed to escape her that night at the club, especially when he'd continued killing until she finally caught him.
"Like you haven't killed way more people than I have. An ocean could be filled with the blood you've spilled, Soul Reaper. What's a few worthless cattle in comparison to that?"
Jet shook her head in disappointment. It always baffled her—why did his vile ilk always resort to that argument? Did they think she would let them go just because her kill count was bigger? Ah well, no point in trying to understand psychos like him, an amusing thought considering how often people called her precisely that.
Her glaive flashed, and his arms were gone before he could enact whatever desperate plan he had in mind.
"YOU BITCH! MY MASTERS WILL KILL YOU FOR THIS!"
Her glaive flashed again, and his legs were gone too. Another scream came, followed by more pleas.
She ignored them, too. Those had also merged into an amorphous mass at some point. Her glaive struck a final time, and his head separated from his body.
[You have slain an Awakened Human, Kurt]
[Your final respite draws away]
Ignoring the blood that had stained her suit, Jet left the dilapidated building, calling the cleaning team on her way out. She saw their fearful and disgusted faces but didn't pay them any mind. She knew her reputation, and she couldn't be bothered to change what they thought of her.
Outside, the dirty streets of the outskirts greeted her. Shadowblade Kurt had thought himself smart when he decided to hide here—the outskirts were barely policed, after all. It would have been a smart idea if not for the fact that most fugitives thought the same thing. The Government had plenty of informants among the residents who would gladly sell his location for a reward.
She saw her PTV but decided to forego going back just yet. It wasn't often that she came here, and she was in the mood for a walk.
As her feet carried her away, she couldn't stop herself from reminiscing. The streets were just as dirty and uncared for as they had been in her childhood—maybe even more. The people were sickly and malnourished, the drug use rampant, and yet she couldn't avoid feeling like she was home.
An ugly, toxic home, yes, but home nonetheless. It felt more honest, perhaps. This place was hell, but at least it didn't hide it behind a paper-thin veneer of civility. Or maybe that was just her bias. There were plenty who would kill for far less than she had, after all.
An ironic smile appeared on her face. Once upon a time, she'd sworn she'd do anything to escape the outskirts, and now, here she was, feeling nostalgic about it. It was hilarious in a sad sort of way.
At some point, her feet had dragged her to a small park. It wasn't much of a sight—the vegetation was small and sparse, barely clinging to life. There were people sitting on benches, enjoying a quiet moment of peace from their otherwise hectic lives. However, what attracted her attention most was the lone tree in the park. It stood tall and dark, staying alive against all odds.
She approached it and gently traced the three lines carved into its bark with her fingers, feeling oddly sad about it. She felt like the lines had some deeper meaning to them—some sort of message that nobody could remember anymore.
For some reason, they reminded her of the kid. It was his birthday today, wasn't it? They hadn't spent much time together—just a few hours—and yet she felt attached to him. He evoked memories of the past, back when she, too, had been lost, when she had persisted in living only because dying would be admitting defeat against a cruel, uncaring world. When she'd felt like her life was just a nightmare from which she would never wake up.
When she met him, she thought that it was her chance to be what she had wished to find back then—someone she could rely on, someone who would have her back against a world that had no mercy for people like them. She had failed.
A sardonic smile blossomed on her face. She had thought herself some sort of wise mentor, offering advice like the old wizards she had read about in comics. Fat good it had done him. Sunny was still stuck in that hell, and she could do nothing about it. Was he even alive anymore? Changing Star said he was, but it had been six months since then. Would she even admit it if he died, or would she keep it quiet so that her little dark secret could stay hidden?
The old temptation to kill Changing Star resurfaced again, only to be buried once more. It wasn't worth it. She would die in the aftermath, and she didn't like the kid enough for that to be an acceptable outcome.
She exhaled once more. Jet missed the kid—or, more accurately, she missed the fleeting idea that there could be someone she could relate to, a fellow outskirt rat who understood how she felt. She should have known better. Life was too cruel to allow her to harbor any hope.
Ah, now she remembered why she didn't come back here more often. She always ended up in a depressing mood. Jet shook her head to dispel the gloomy thoughts and left the park. There was still plenty of work to be done.
Before she left, however, she gave one last glance at the lines carved into the tree, especially at the one that seemed the most recent and which reminded her of him for some reason. A sad smile appeared on her face.
"Happy birthday, Sunny. Come back soon. There are far too few of us to lose anyone."
-------------------------------------------
Kai entered the room silently.
He offered a small smile to the firekeeper who had been on watch and whom he was about to relieve. The man nodded and promptly left, the gates sealing behind him with a final hiss.
Kai glanced around, taking in the pods of his cohort, which, despite having no discernible distinctions, he could still tell to whom they belonged. He looked at them slowly, a wistful smile on his face as he contemplated the small quirks left by their owners.
Finally, against his wishes, his gaze settled on Sunny's pod. It was facing Nephis's—she was such a hopeless romantic sometimes—and inside, he could be found. If he was honest with himself, he hated being here. In fact, he despised it.
He felt like he was attending a wake, mourning the death of a dear friend despite the fact that the man still breathed. He hated how silent it was here, how peaceful his face looked when, instead, there should be a mischievous smirk on it. And most of all, he hated how powerless he was to do anything about it.
Kai shook his head. This wasn't the time for such thoughts. He sat down and began his breathing exercises, just like he did before his concerts. It helped, though only barely.
"Good morning, Sunny. I'm sorry for not visiting more often."
He spoke aloud, if only so the silence wouldn't feel so oppressive. Whenever he had to be here, he spoke about the news in his life. That way, it felt like he was catching up with a friend instead of standing vigil over Sunny's corpse.
"Night&Gale is going to disband. I tried to go back to how it was before, but I just couldn't do it."
He had tried. He had tried so hard to pretend like nothing was different. That the years he had spent on the Forgotten Shore were just a bad memory he had already moved past. But he couldn't forget, no matter how hard he tried. On bad days, just hearing rushing water was enough to give him goosebumps.
Going back to concerts had been his idea to get away from it. Maybe music could heal his scars, he had thought. At first, it had worked; he could pretend that nothing was wrong. But then, the same fear came back with a vengeance.
"Last week, I had a panic attack during a concert."
The media had loved it. "Poor Nightingale," they said. "He used to be such a great singer," they lamented. "He's so brave for still trying," they added. Their patronizing words hurt far more than the harshest of critics.
Gale had been very understanding about his decision. Kai didn't expect anything else; they had been the best of friends once, after all. And yet now he felt more and more like a stranger. Their worlds were too far apart. Each time they spoke, he felt like they were speaking different languages.
How could he explain to a man who had never gotten so much as a scratch that he only felt safe when holding his bow? Or when in the company of the cohort? That he was deathly afraid of not being on high enough ground when the sun set?
It had been easier to run away, to let the friendship fall apart completely rather than fight for it. He was a coward—he could admit it freely—and yet it still stung.
"Tomorrow we are going to start the trek to a nightmare seed that will allow us to challenge the Second Nightmare."
It still felt surreal. Him, of all people, becoming a Master. Part of him feared this was all a wild fantasy. That at any moment he would wake up and find himself back at the Bright Castle. Or worse… down in that well.
Inadequacy reared its head like it always did. He feared he wasn't good enough, that he would drag everyone else down with him. He had already feared it when he was just a singer, and now it was even worse.
Back then, the worst that could happen was backlash from the media. But now? For some reason that escaped all logic, people trusted him with their safety. If he failed, they would be wounded—or worse, die.
How did Nephis live with that? How did anyone? His hands trembled just at the thought.
"How did you do it, Sunny? How were you always so confident? Weren't you afraid too?"
His friend did not answer, but Kai could still hear him as if he had.
"Of course I'm afraid, you handsome bastard! I just deal with it. Now stop wasting time and help me not die!"
No… that wasn't quite right. He would also nonchalantly add an anecdote about some impossible feat he'd somehow performed and lived to tell. The fact that Sunny was still alive was all the proof Kai needed of the existence of a god.
Tears welled in his eyes, but he wiped them away before they could fall. Gods, how he missed him. The world always seemed brighter around him, like he could find a way out of any danger no matter how dire. If the sky were to fall, Kai was certain Sunny would find a way to come out unscathed.
He laughed at the thought. The sun had died on the Forgotten Shore, and Sunny was still alive — so in a way, he had already accomplished that.
"What kind of adventures are you living out there, my friend? Have you killed a god? Charmed a princess? Saved the world, perhaps? I cannot wait until you tell me."
A notification from his communicator chimed — the signal that his watch was over. He stood. The less time he spent here, the better. He moved toward the door, though not before offering his best smile to his friend.
"Happy birthday, Sunny. Come back soon. We miss you."
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Effie greeted Kai on her way in, boisterously denying his offer of help. She knew he meant well — he always did.
It didn't stop the bitterness that welled in her stomach every time. She was an Awakened, one of the strongest in the world, and yet people always treated her as if she were made of glass when outside the Dream Realm. She didn't bother dwelling on it. Soon, she would be free of the accursed body she had been born with.
She settled her wheelchair in front of Doofus's pod and stared at him for a long few moments. Damn, he looked so small in that infernal contraption. He always looked small, but it was even more pronounced now that she was staring at nothing but the empty shell of her friend.
He had a presence to him — one moment you wouldn't even notice he was there, and the next, you couldn't look at anything else, his low stature forgotten entirely. It was one of the reasons she loved teasing him so much. It was hilarious to see such a dangerous man sputter indignantly.
"Hey, Doofus. We're leaving tomorrow, so I won't be able to visit for a while."
It felt wrong to leave him behind again. As much as she liked some of the Firekeepers, they weren't truly friends, and she didn't feel comfortable entrusting his care to someone she wouldn't trust with her own life.
They would have to do it anyway. Princess hadn't said it outright, but it was obvious she had plenty of powerful enemies. They had to get stronger as soon as possible. It still felt wrong — her family had watched over her for years without break or complaint, and here she was, leaving for who knew how long after only a year.
She wouldn't lie either; as much as she justified her decision by saying she was doing it for Princess, she knew she was doing it as much, if not more, for herself.
She couldn't bear a single second more chained to her wheelchair. She hated it — hated it with every fiber of her being. After years spent as her spirit self, it was stifling to be forced back into her physical body, to be reminded of all the insecurities that plagued her back then, of all the things she couldn't do simply because she had been born broken.
She wasn't one to lie to herself — she was doing it for her own gain. So what? She would just have to make it up to him when she came back and he woke up. Maybe spare him from teasing for a few days?
…
Hah! Like she could go that long. His adorable flustered face was a drug she couldn't live without. She was going to tease him even harder!
A sad smile appeared on her face. In a few days, a full year would have passed. Was he lonely? She knew better than anyone how painful it was to have no one in the world but yourself for company. She had spent years as a pariah in the Dark City and knew just how crushing it could be.
It still amazed her at times that she had escaped. She never admitted it, but she had resigned herself to dying out there — to the idea that she was doomed to wander that damned city until Gunlaug deemed her enough of a nuisance to kill, or until a nightmare creature did.
Then a Princess, a Seer, and an angry little Shadow arrived in her life, and everything changed. Was that what fate was? How much would have been different if she hadn't met them that day? Would they have even bothered recruiting her if not for that previous encounter?
She didn't know, and she dreaded imagining the alternative. Would she still be there, hunting in the darkness? At least she could keep Doofus company in that case. She should say that to Princess — it was adorable how jealous she got about him despite denying it.
"I spent a night with Sir Sunless: a candid confession of a former idol trainee." She remembered that headline well — Princess had almost burned her communicator to a crisp when she found out. Effie had nearly choked to death with laughter.
Princess… Nephis worried her. It was hard to tell with that stoic poker face, but she wasn't alright.
She hadn't been since she returned.
At first, Effie thought it was remorse over accepting Sunny's decision to stay behind. But her intuition told her something more had happened. Something in the Red Spire. Something that was eating Princess alive.
Whatever it was, Cassie knew. As much as the girl tried to emulate Neph's stoic attitude, she couldn't pull it off — not with how downcast she looked whenever she left after her watch over Sunny. It was one of the reasons she messed with her so much, she wanted to crack that mask of hers and see for herself what she was hiding behind it.
Did Princess confess and Doofus reject her for Cassie? It would make for great drama, but she doubted it. She was going to say it anyway when he woke up — their faces would be priceless.
A notification sounded from her communicator, signaling the end of her watch. She began to turn her wheelchair away, but not before offering a soft smile — the kind she would mercilessly tease anyone for showing — to his sleeping body.
"Happy birthday, Doofus. Come back soon. Life's been too boring without you."
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Rain entered the room gingerly, suppressing a yawn. She offered to help Effie on her way out, but she refused without a word.
Once Rain was alone, she found herself unable to look at her brother. It was still shocking sometimes — she had a brother! And he was the famous Sir Sunless! She wasn't ready for this!
She started hyperventilating. What was she thinking, when she asked big sister Nephis — she still blushed when calling her that — to see him? And alone at that!?
As instructed by her big sister, she inhaled slowly, then exhaled. She repeated the breathing exercise several more times until her nerves began to settle.
"It's okay, Rain. He's just another Sleeper like any other. He just happens to be your brother… and he's famous enough to have a movie about his adventures."
This wasn't working!
She took another deep breath, followed by another yawn, then ripped off the bandage before she could back out. She moved in front of his pod and, for the first time, looked directly at the real him.
He was more, and less, than she expected. He wasn't the midget the film and Effie portrayed him as, but he wasn't the all encompassing giant Kai — her heart almost burst of joy at referring in such a casual way to Night himself — seemed to believe he was either. Instead, he was just… human.
She could understand why big sis recognized her immediately as his sister. They looked so much alike. They shared the same pale skin, the same black hair, and according to everyone, their eyes were the same color too. His peaceful face — which she had to admit was quite cute — resembled her own. They were even the same height, something she was secretly proud of.
She was going to become taller than him someday. She couldn't wait until he woke up so she could tease him about it. It was her birthright as his sister — or so Effie said, and Rain had no reason to doubt her. It would serve him right for never visiting!
Her face fell. Why hadn't he visited? Had he stopped caring about her? Was she just another face in his wondrous life? A curiosity he remembered once in a while, only to forget again?
How would he react when he saw her? Love? Anger for forgetting him? Indifference? She dreaded the idea of him treating her like a stranger. She dreaded even more that Nephis and the others would stop caring about her if he did.
No — bad Rain! Nephis said that he loved her, and she believed her. And yet… her insecurities remained.
She approached his pod and placed her hand on the glass, as if being closer would somehow reveal the answers she sought. It didn't. But it did reinforce what she already knew.
She wanted to meet him. She wanted to know what he liked, what he hated, the real stories behind his adventures… she wanted to know about their biological parents. She could hardly wait. They would be inseparable in no time! She smiled, small tears slipping down despite her efforts.
She stayed like that for a long time, trying to recall as much as she could from the fragments of memories she had of him. Only when her communicator chimed did she stir — it was time to leave.
Another yawn escaped as she moved away. She had been very sleepy these last days, for some reason.
As the door started to open, she wiped the tears from her cheeks and gave his sleeping face one last bright smile.
"Happy birthday, big brother. Come back soon — there are so many questions you need to answer."
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"Happy birthday, Sunny. Come back soon. We need you. I need you," Cassie said.
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Nephis entered the room with perfect composure, every step measured and elegant.
She greeted Cassie, who greeted her back, then immediately entered her pod. The cohort was leaving for the Ebony Tower tomorrow, but the two of them would enter the Dream Realm today to rescue Mordret.
How fast a month had passed. Nephis almost dreaded the coming hours — it was time to take her first step toward long-planned vengeance. It was exhilarating, and terrifying at the same time. There would be no turning back. Valor would never stop hunting her — or any of them — if they found out.
She could still back out, an insidious, cowardly voice whispered. Forget her revenge against the clans and focus solely on the Spell.
Then her gaze fell upon his face, and all doubts vanished. She had already allowed her will to falter once.
Never again.
She opened Sunny's runes, more out of habit than intention. She checked them anyway. The mere idea of waking one day to find his runes gone frightened her more than any nightmare creature ever could. The shadow fragment counter was increasing in real time — he was fighting.
Was he winning? Losing? Was the battle over? She didn't know, and the uncertainty terrified her.
"Wake up," she ordered softly.
She hoped to see him stir, to watch his eyes slowly open, to witness one of his adorable yawns as he returned from a long sleep.
As expected, he didn't. She had tried it many times, and it never worked. No matter how strong the bond was, it couldn't force him to do something he wasn't capable of. She still tried, if only for the remote possibility that one day, it might.
"You would hate this, wouldn't you? Here I am, ordering you around even when you're not awake to listen."
She approached his pod and rested her forehead against the glass, the closeness offering her some faint comfort. How she wished all of this were a bad dream she would wake from at any moment — that they were still in the Forgotten Shore. At the time, she couldn't wait to leave that dreary place behind.
Now? She wished she had never left. You don't value what you have until you lose it. The old adage had proven itself true yet again. In a cruel irony, her time in the Forgotten Shore had been among the most harrowing of her life… and yet also among the happiest. She would give almost anything to return to when it was just the three of them, facing whatever danger came next together.
Her eyes grew wet, but she wiped the tears away before they could fall. She could not allow herself to be weak. Not now. Not ever.
It was while wiping her eyes that a terrible idea occurred to her.
Maybe she could—
No. She had already violated his trust enough. Anything more would be too much, no matter how she justified it.
And yet…
And yet…
Her hand was already moving, entering a code into the pod. It couldn't be opened by any means without triggering an alert — by any means… except the code only she knew. It had been created as a precaution, so she could extract him silently if the manor was ever attacked. Using it for this was yet another betrayal.
Why did her will falter only when it came to him? Was she truly so weak?
The glass door opened with a quiet hiss, and she forgot all about that line of thought.
Her arms extended slowly, carefully, as if he would shatter under the slightest touch. When her fingers brushed him, she recoiled, startled — she didn't know what she expected, but it wasn't this warmth, this softness.
Her hands reached for him again, more firmly this time, and she gently pulled his sleeping body into her embrace.
The world clicked into place.
The warmth of his body melted the cold that had encased her heart for so long. With it, all her fears and worries seemed to vanish. She inhaled deeply, memorizing his scent, her fingers brushing through his unkempt hair as she studied his sleeping face. She decided, then and there, that one day she would recreate this moment — with him awake, with him choosing to hold her back.
Her grip tightened. She pulled him even closer, as if trying to merge their bodies, to map every millimeter of him through touch alone. She rested her chin atop his head and found the position perfect, as if they were meant to fit like this.
She could stay like this forever — and she did stay for the rest of her watch, embracing him as if he were the answer to all the realm's mysteries.
When her communicator rang, she ignored it. She didn't want to leave. Not yet. It rang again, and logic finally forced its way back.
Slowly, painfully, she loosened her grip. The cold returned the moment they separated. With a heavy heart, she settled him back in the pod, carefully positioning him exactly as before, and closed the glass door.
Once a Firekeeper entered to take over the watch, she moved toward her own pod and accessed it. The last thing she saw was his sleeping face.
"Happy birthday, Sunny. Please… wait just a little longer. I'm coming for you." She whispered the words before falling asleep, an almost invisible, content smile on her face.
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Sunny sat on a rock, staring numbly at the blood and raindrops dripping from his hands.
"Why do I keep doing this?" he asked softly.
"Why do I fight?"
"Why do I insist on surviving?"
"Why?"
No answer came — neither from him nor from his shadows. Why he had begun talking aloud again despite how lonely it made him feel was another mystery he added to the list.
He tilted his head. He had been keeping a close watch on time — it helped maintain sanity, as relative as his was nowadays. And if he hadn't made a mistake, today… today was his birthday. He was nineteen now. Just a few more days, and a full year would have passed. A humorless chuckle escaped him. Time sure flew.
For the first time in months, he commanded Gloomy to look at him. Really look.
What a harrowing sight he was.
His hair was wild and shaggy, long from lack of maintenance. His already pale skin had taken an unhealthy white tone resembling sun-bleached bone. The scars covering him stood out starkly — [Blood Weave] improved healing, but it did nothing for scarring. Most of his left ear was gone, taken by a Brood creature. A long red line ran over his left eye from when a Herald dragged a hook across his face — the eye itself had survived by sheer luck. Half the fingers on his right hand were missing, joining the pinky he had lost long ago.
And the Puppeteer's Shroud was shredded nearly to destruction. The fact it wasn't broken yet was a miracle.
Beneath it, more scars formed a ghastly map of the tribulations he had faced during the last year.
"If anyone were to see me, they'd think I'm a Nightmare Creature." Hell — he would, if he didn't know he was staring at himself. Advancing through the path of ascension was meant to fix issues like these. He could only hope — he never learned, did he? — that it could fix him too.
Sunny exhaled tiredly and pushed himself to his feet, legs shaking. Break time was over. He took a step—
And froze.
Warmth.
Radiating from his heart, spreading through his chest, his limbs, filling him with a comfort he had not felt in so long that his knees buckled. He fell backward — thankfully onto the rock.
A mind hex? When another wave of warmth trickled down his face, he decided that yes, it must be. There was no other explanation for why he felt like this.
He didn't care. He didn't resist. Whatever this was… it felt good. He hadn't felt so content, so relaxed, in so long. The Nightmare Creature could live as long as it didn't interrupt, he wanted to enjoy it. He wanted to bask in the warmth for as long as he could.
He sat there for hours, soaking in the foreign sensation, letting it wash the exhaustion from his bones.
Eventually, the warmth faded until it vanished completely. A dejected sigh escaped him. Nothing good ever lasted. At least… at least it had been nice while it lasted.
He stood again. His legs steadier now after the rest, and resumed the climb — his heart just a little lighter, the mountain peak ever so slowly growing closer.
A few hours later, he reached the jagged summit. From his vantage point, he saw a massive river so wide it almost looked like a lake. And far beyond it…
A wide smile bloomed across his face.
There, months of travel away, stood a building flanked by two massive statues.
He blinked several times. Pinched himself.
He wasn't dreaming.
After such a long journey, he had finally found it.
The Temple of the Twin Gods.
His smile widened, pure joy shining through it.
"Happy birthday to me."