Across the deep moat that surrounded the island, the remnants of the Dreamer Army were at the precipice of turning the tide of battle in their favor.
Just a few minutes ago, they had been drowning in the rising flood of black water and the relentless onslaught of the horde, lost in the fury of a cataclysmic storm. But now, things were different.
The storm was no more, and the dark sea had retreated. The sun shined brightly in the sky, drowning the battlefield in its light. Bathed in it, the Nightmare Creatures seemed to become hesitant… almost sluggish.
They were not giving up, however. The monsters continued to attack in a frenzied rage, their claws and fangs reaping lives. But the survivors repaid every loss tenfold, fighting with zeal and murderous will. More and more Nightmare Creatures fell, and the horde no longer seemed endless.
The Sleepers did not know why the storm had dissipated, but their faith in Changing Star burned even brighter. She had promised to guide them out of this hell, and even the black water had capitulated to her light.
But Nephis suddenly stumbled. A confused frown appeared on her face. Dodging an abomination's claws, she thrust her sword into its maw, then jumped back and looked at the sky.
---
High above, Kai was still alive… somehow. He had spent so long flying at terrible speed, struggling against crushing wind, dodging lightning and Spire Messengers, that exhaustion was catching up.
Using the sun to blind his enemies, Kai dove and dashed aside, avoiding a Messenger's claws with room to spare. The Quiet Dancer didn't even need to get involved.
'Are they… growing slower?'
He reduced his speed to study the creature. Its glassy black eyes were erratic, seeping blood down black feathers like a crimson stream. Its muscles spasmed under white skin like panicking worms.
The Messenger opened its beak in a silent scream. Blood erupted and dispersed like red mist. Then it convulsed and lost control of its wings, plunging down.
Kai flinched. The Spire Messenger was dead.
---
Sunny swayed and looked down at his shadow. It seemed in pain, clutching at its chest and waving at him. When it noticed Sunny staring, it desperately pointed to itself.
'What is this guy trying to say?'
Was it having a heart attack? No, shadows didn't have hearts.
Sunny scowled. The shadow was his reflection. So maybe it was pointing at his heart. But his heart felt fine. What else was there?
Suddenly, his eyes widened. The Soul Core!
With a shudder, Sunny dove into the Soul Sea. Instead of peace, he found ominous chaos. Dark waters surged under invisible winds. Memory spheres shimmered and blinked. The black sun of the Shadow Core trembled, tiny cracks appearing on its surface.
Only the silent shadows stood motionless, staring with black, lifeless faces.
Sunny stared at the Shadow Core, dumbfounded.
'...Soul damage. I am receiving soul damage.'
Escaping in panic, Sunny wiped blood from his face. He looked up at the blinding sun.
The skies of the Forgotten Shore, always grey, were now almost white. With each second, it grew more incandescent.
'…The sun…'
Sunlight itself was eroding souls. At high noon, there was nowhere to hide.
Except the Crimson Spire.
'…The army!'
Sunny peered across the moat. Nightmare Creatures stumbled and swayed, blood streaming from their orifices. Their souls were being destroyed.
The Dreamer Army stared in bewilderment. Sunny wanted to scream a warning, but he was too far.
He saw Nephis in their midst. She must have figured it out. But she didn't know the gates were open.
'…Think, think!'
Sunny raised his hand. A silver bell rang across the Labyrinth.
Far away, Nephis spun toward him.
'Come on! Come on, Neph!'
Sunny rang the bell again and waved. Changing Star thrust her sword toward the Spire. The Dreamer Army lunged forward.
"Yes! Wait… what is she doing?!"
Nephis ran the opposite direction — back for Cassie.
Sunny's heart skipped. But there was nothing he could do.
He ran toward the Spire's doorway. Before he reached it, something fell from the sky.
A ragged figure slammed into coral and rolled. Sunny dashed toward it — Kai.
Barely conscious, the archer was still alive. A rapier zipped worriedly around him, its steel bleak.
Not wasting time, Sunny grabbed Kai by the collar and dragged him toward the gates. The Quiet Dancer followed.
They reached the border of light and darkness. Sunny dove into the shade and fell.
"Ah…"
His soul finally healed. Kai was alive too.
"Lucky bastard."
'…That fool owes me big time now!'
Seconds later, Caster appeared, placing an unconscious Sleeper on the ground. They both turned to the gates.
Silence. Then silhouettes appeared from the brightness. The survivors dashed into the tower's shade.
Sunny watched, something sharp in his chest.
Finally, Nephis appeared in white armor, carrying Cassie. She was the last.
Sunny exhaled. They made it.
The battle for the Crimson Spire was over.
Now they had to find the Gateway.
…And survive the wrath of its master.
---
Sitting on cold stone, Sunny inhaled deeply and looked at the survivors.
All were exhausted, wounded, covered in blood and dirt, barely conscious. Around a hundred Sleepers remained, four-fifths of the army had been eviscerated. This hundred was all that remained of more than a thousand humans who had survived on the Forgotten Shore before Changing Star arrived.
Sunny had expected single digits.
Nephis and Cassie were there. So was Kai. Effie slumped against a wall, her white chiton painted red with blood. Caster bandaged a wound. Seishan stood apart with her Handmaidens, barely alive. Aiko wiped tears.
But many were gone. The scarred hunter, Park, the watchmen, Stev, Gemma — all dead.
Their absence pressed down like an unseen weight.
But survivors had no time for sorrow. They had just entered the very belly of the beast.
---
Sunny looked into the Spire's depths. Coral growths resembled frozen waterfalls of blood. Further away, darkness shrouded everything.
He decided not to send his shadow to explore. The Crimson Terror could hurt it.
Neph peered into the blinding brightness outside, then looked up toward the Spire's tip.
"It's time to go. Gather your strength. We are almost there!"
The Sleepers rose. Those who could walk supported the wounded.
The procession headed deeper. Nephis walked at the front with Cassie. Somehow, Sunny ended up beside them.
"Thank you," Nephis said. "For ringing that bell. And… for everything."
Sunny shrugged. "There's no need to thank me. We are allies. Are we not?"
She smiled slightly.
They approached the center of the Spire. A vast pool of black water lay before them, perfectly still, like a mirror of pure darkness. Sunny felt it reached depths where light was impossible.
A ripple spread across the surface. The imprisoned sea strained to break free, but the seal held.
Sunny peered into the darkness. Countless figures stood motionless, staring at them.
---
Sunny had never expected to become a leader. But he was the best person for the job, he could see in the dark. With Nephis drawing the soul-destroying light away, he could send his shadows to search for the Gateway.
'…How the hell…'
Hiding his unease, Sunny projected confidence and shouted for everyone to follow. Surprisingly, they did.
'…Confidence is easily confused for competence, I guess.'
Taking Cassie's hand, he dashed toward a spiraling coral root. Jumping on, he sent his shadow forward.
"Those at the back! Ready your weapons!"
The first golem stumbled from darkness and crumbled under a sword. But more appeared. And more.
The Sleepers destroyed the first wave and jumped onto the root, catching up.
At the head, Sunny knew the root would soon twist vertically and narrow. Another root crossed it ahead, separated by a small gap.
He picked up Cassie and jumped. The Sleepers followed. Below, golems climbed after them.
'…Damn it. They can climb!'
He ran up the incline, then froze. A gallery circled the Spire, and another mass of golems surged toward them. Many fell and shattered. Some fell onto Sunny's root.
Effie appeared. "What is it now?"
Sunny pushed Cassie toward her. "Take care of her for me, alright?"
Effie waved that she got it.
Sunny summoned the Midnight Shard.
The first golem almost disintegrated under his blade. The Spell didn't congratulate him — they weren't alive.
Running past, Sunny pushed another off the root with his pommel. The golems weren't dangerous in small numbers.
He led the army higher, switching roots and crossing galleries. Vanguard and rear both fought golems. Those in the middle watched for falling debris.
The constructs were slow and mindless. No human had fallen yet.
High above, white light became a continuous halo. Nephis was nearing the pinnacle. No annihilating rays attacked the Sleepers — proof she still lived, drawing the Terror's attention.
'…Where are you… where are you…'
Sunny cut through another golem. Where was the Gateway?!
---
The ascent grew steeper, and the coral golems grew more numerous. Sunny's arms burned with fatigue, his breath came in ragged gasps, but he did not slow down. Behind him, the Dreamer Army clung to the treacherous roots like desperate souls clinging to the edge of a cliff.
A young Sleeper named Mira — a girl no older than sixteen, with a broken spear and a shattered arm — lost her footing on a narrow stretch of coral. She screamed as she slipped backward, her fingers scrabbling uselessly against the smooth crimson surface.
Sunny didn't think. He lunged.
His hand shot out like a whip, wrapping around Mira's waist and yanking her back onto the root. Sunny himself nearly lost his balance, his boots skidding on the slick coral, but he caught himself with one hand while maintaining his grip on the girl.
"Grab the root!" he snarled. "Now!"
Mira sobbed and clung to the coral with her good arm. Sunny reeled his shadow back in and hauled her up, shoving her toward the Sleeper behind him.
"Don't let her fall again," he barked. "Keep moving!"
The girl stared at him with tear-filled eyes. "Th-thank you—"
"Save it. We're not safe yet."
He turned back to the path ahead, the Midnight Shard gleaming in the faint light. More golems were pouring down from above.
---
Further up the ascent, a section of the coral root crumbled without warning. Three Sleepers at the rear, a burly man with a cracked shield, a slender woman clutching a dagger, and an older warrior, were thrown into the void.
The burly man managed to catch the edge of the remaining root with one hand, dangling above the drop. The other two weren't so lucky.
Sunny surged downward, while throwing [Prowling Thorn] on the ridge . Swinging in an arc, he caught the slender woman by the ankle, and throwing her above to safety.
Before the older warrior's wrist gave away, sunny caught him and pulled both of them in one single heave.
But it was the wrong decision as he felt his shoulder scream in pain. He dropped to one knee, gritting his teeth, blood trickling from his nose.
"Pull them up!" he roared at the Sleepers nearest to him. "Don't just stand there — pull!"
Two warriors rushed forward, grabbing them and taking then away. Sunny poured every ounce of his will into maintaining standing upright, his vision swimming with black spots. The Soul Sea within him churned like a storm-tossed ocean.
The burly man had already found his footing, gasping. He looked at Sunny with something like awe.
"You… you saved them."
Sunny wiped the blood from his upper lip and stood, swaying slightly. "I saved time. Now move, before more of this damn coral decides to collapse."
He didn't wait for a response. He turned and pressed onward, the Midnight Shard cutting a path through the next wave of golems.
---
The stone gallery they reached was wider than the roots, but no less dangerous. Golems poured from both ends of the corridor, trapping a group of wounded Sleepers in the middle.
Sunny assessed the situation in a heartbeat. The vanguard was already ahead. The rear was holding, barely. But the middle — where the wounded were — was being overrun.
"Effie!" he called out. "Take Cassie and keep moving forward! Don't stop for anything!"
"Sunny, what are you—"
"Go!"
He plunged into the mass of coral constructs, the Midnight Shard singing through the air in a deadly arc.
The first golem lost its head. The second was split from shoulder to hip. The third tried to grapple him, and Sunny ducked under its clumsy arms, driving his blade upward through its torso. Coral shards sprayed in all directions.
"On me!" he shouted to the trapped Sleepers. "Form a wedge behind me! Now!"
They rallied. A dozen wounded but determined warriors pressed in behind Sunny, using his body as a shield and his blade as a beacon. Step by step, he carved a path through the golems, his sword a blur of silver death.
A golem lunged at a Sleeper to his left, a boy barely older than eighteen, clutching a broken sword. Sunny's shadow lashed out, catching the construct by the throat and slamming it against the gallery wall. The golem shattered.
"Stay close," Sunny growled, not looking back. "I won't be able to save you twice."
"Y-yes, sir!"
Sir. The word almost made him laugh. Almost.
---
They broke through the encirclement and rejoined the main group just as the gallery began to tremble. High above, the battle between Nephis and the Crimson Terror raged on.
---
Out there in the darkness, a vast balcony was built into the wall of the tower, reaching almost to the center of the gargantuan structure. On its surface, broken pillars of marble were overgrown by streaks of crimson coral. They led to a circular dais, with a wide iron ring submerged into its stone surface.
Around the ring, a beautiful pattern of runes was shimmering with familiar light. But the most unusual thing about the dais was that unlike everything else inside of the Spire, it was utterly devoid of growths of crimson coral. The stone was strangely clean and untouched.
Looking at the shimmering runes through his shadow, Sunny felt something move in his heart.
He was sure that this was the Gateway.
They were so close…
As he watched it, the whole Spire suddenly shuddered. Massive pieces of coral broke off and fell down. High above, the radiant halo became several times more bright.
…Nephis had reached the Crimson Terror.
With a somber grimace, Sunny escaped from his reverie and dashed forward, slicing several golems as he went. The frightened Sleepers followed, entrusting their fates into his hands.
As more tremors ran through the ancient tower, they ascended even higher and approached the vast balcony.
And then, finally, Sunny jumped down and landed on solid stone.
Shattering a few golems, he cleared enough space for others to follow. One after another, the Sleepers jumped off the treacherous coral and joined him. Those who were the first to catch up repelled the attacking golems to let the others come down.
Soon, all hundred of them were on the balcony, and just in time. A few seconds later, a tremendous piece of debris fell from above, pulverizing the branch of coral they had used to get there.
Sunny lingered for a few moments, watching as crimson pieces rained down, and then turned away with a determined expression.
"Come on! We're almost there!"
The remains of the Dreamer Army cut through the mass of golems and escaped it. Running with all the speed they could manage, the crowd approached the Gateway and froze, stunned by the sight of it.
In front of them… was the hope that they had forgotten for so long.
The torturous promise of freedom that had taunted them every day, hidden away in the terrifying silhouette of the Crimson Spire.
Their way home. Salvation.
Most of them had spent so long on the Forgotten Shore that escape had become nothing more than a distant dream.
Sunny made it easier:
"What are you staring at, idiots?! Pick up your jaws and move! Battle formation! Protect the rear! Wounded and non-combatants go first, everyone else holds off the damn golems and then follows! One at a time, bastards!"
Coming back to their senses, the Sleepers quickly reorganized. Those who could still fight faced away from the Gateway and formed a defensive line, protecting the wounded with their bodies.
Sunny watched as the first human was placed in the center of the Gateway. A moment later, the runes flashed with shimmering light. The body of the Sleeper suddenly shone, too. The ghostly shine grew brighter and brighter. Soon, it was hard to distinguish the shape of the human body at the center of that light.
And then, the light dissipated, much like a Memory or an Echo would, leaving nothing behind.
After all these years, all that suffering, all that loss, the first Sleeper had finally escaped the Forgotten Shore.
Looking through the emptiness left by the disappearance, Sunny realized that he had forgotten to breathe.
A second later, an exhilarated cheer rose above the crowd.
In the next moment, the pursuing wave of golems crashed into the defensive line, and the next human stepped into the Gateway.
The defenders held their ground, throwing the coral creatures back.
---
Sunny lingered at the edge of the dais, watching the crowd of humans. One after another, they were disappearing into the beautiful radiance of the Gateway, while the others continued to confidently repel the assault of the golems.
They were going to survive.
That meant that his job here was done.
…And, just as he had expected, Caster was nowhere to be seen.
'Tch…!'
The bastard might have found an opportunity to slip away through the gate, while he was busy dealing with the golems.
Lingering for a few short moments, Sunny glanced at the Gateway one last time and then stepped away.
As he moved through the crowd of humans and approached its edge, someone suddenly called out his name.
Turning his head, Sunny saw Effie. The huntress was carrying the unconscious body of Kai on one shoulder, and keeping Cassie close to her own under another. The blind girl's face was ashen, confused, and empty.
"Doofus! Where are you going?"
Sunny stared at her for a few moments, and then suddenly smiled.
"…There's just some unfinished business I need to deal with. Take care, you three. I will… see you later. I hope."
With that, he took a step back and disappeared into the shadows.
---
The pinnacle of the Crimson Spire was a graveyard of ancient grandeur.
Sunlight—true, unfiltered sunlight—poured through the shattered dome in thick, blinding columns, turning the floating dust into a sea of drifting diamonds. The artificial sun hung in the white sky beyond the broken roof, but it was dying. Its radiance flickered like a candle in a storm, casting long, trembling shadows across the ruined chamber. Somewhere deep in the bones of the tower, stone groaned and cracked, the sound of a leviathan taking its final breath.
Sunny pulled himself over the edge of the collapsed floor, granite scraping against his armor, and rose to his feet.
Across from him, Nephis sat slumped against a fallen pillar, her legs splayed, her head bowed. The Starlight Legion Armor was little more than mangled scrap clinging to her battered frame. Gruesome burns and cuts marred her ivory skin, and from them seeped not blood, but white flames—embers really, weak and sputtering, barely clinging to life. The incandescent furnace that had always burned at the core of Changing Star was cold now, choked out by the terrible price of slaying a Fallen Terror.
She looked up. Her grey eyes, usually so striking and full of impossible intensity, were dull. Exhausted. Lost.
'Soul Conduit,' Sunny thought, feeling the strange interference pulsing in his chest. The white light permeating his Soul Sea was still there, suppressing his Shadow Core, forcing him into this role as the Spire's new Vessel. But it didn't matter. None of it mattered.
He had two shadows. Gloomy and Happy coiled at his feet like twin pools of liquid night, then slithered up his legs, wrapping around his limbs. They didn't whip through the air or form barriers—they simply strengthened, saturating his muscles with alien, terrible might. In his chest, the Soul Serpent uncoiled, channeling minuscule threads of shadow essence through his veins, enhancing every fiber of his being. His grip on the Midnight Shard tightened. The austere tachi felt weightless.
Nephis watched him. She knew. She had always been perceptive.
"So," she rasped, her voice barely audible over the Spire's death rattle. "This is how it ends."
Sunny said nothing. He didn't need to.
The Shadow Dance wasn't a martial art. He couldn't perform katas or stances or any of the graceful techniques Nephis had tried to teach him over their months together. What he had was something more primal.
He looked at Nephis, broken and bleeding, and he saw her. The way her left shoulder twitched before she committed to a strike. The micro-tremor in her right wrist from a fractured bone. The hitch in her breath that telegraphed pain from the wound in her side. She was an open book, every page written in a language he had studied for months.
She reached for her sword. The Dawn Shard tried to weave itself from light, but the silver blade flickered, unstable, barely manifesting.
"Only one of us leaves," she said.
"I know," Sunny replied quietly.
Nephis pushed herself to her feet. She swayed. The white flames in her eyes ignited, but they were a lie.
She lunged.
It was fast. Faster than any Sleeper had a right to be, even in her ruined state. The silver sword cut a blinding arc through the dusty air, aimed at Sunny's throat.
But Sunny had already seen it.
The Shadow Dance whispered to him, not in words, but in pure understanding: High commit. Left leg buckling. She will feint toward the neck but her balance fails to the right. Strike will come three inches lower than intended.
He simply stepped, one small shift of weight, and the blade passed through empty air where his neck had been. The wind of it ruffled his hair.
Before Nephis could recover, Sunny moved inside her guard. No technique. No form. Just brutal, efficient violence backed by two shadows flooding his body with strength. He caught her sword wrist with his free hand—his fingers like iron bands—and twisted. Bone ground against bone. Nephis gasped, the sound sharp and pained, and her sword flickered out of existence, her concentration shattered.
He drove his knee into her stomach.
The impact, enhanced by the Soul Serpent's minuscule but precise channeling of shadow essence, lifted her off the ground. Air and blood exploded from her lips. She folded like a broken doll and hit the floor, skidding across the granite until her back struck the base of the fallen pillar.
The chamber fell silent, save for the Spire's distant groaning.
Sunny stood over her, the Midnight Shard still undrawn in his hand. His heart hammered against his ribs, but not from exertion. From the sickening ease of it.
'This is wrong,' he thought. But it wasn't. She had given everything to kill the Terror. She was hollowed out, a shell of the Changing Star who had once made the Forgotten Shore tremble.
"Stay down, Neph," he said. His voice was rough. "Please."
She lay there for a moment, chest heaving, blood painting her lips. Then, slowly, she planted her palm against the cold stone. Her arms shook. Her entire body shook. But she pushed herself up, first to her knees, then to her feet, swaying like a tree in a hurricane.
Her grey eyes found his. Defiant. Unbreakable. Even now.
"I... can't," she whispered. "You know... I can't."
She raised her fists. She couldn't summon her sword any more, her soul didn't have the strength. But she took a step forward, barefoot and bleeding, ready to fight him with bare hands if that was all she had left.
Sunny felt something twist in his chest. 'Damn you. Damn you and your stupid pride.'
He raised the Midnight Shard. "Neph—"
She took another step.
And stopped.
Her eyes widened. A strange, wet sound escaped her lips. She looked down.
Protruding from the center of her chest, buried to the hilt between the shattered remnants of her breastplate, was a dagger. Its hilt was ornate, crimson, studded with dark jewels that pulsed like malignant hearts. Blood bloomed across her skin, spreading in a crimson flower.
"What..." she breathed.
The air behind her shimmered. The invisibility shrouding the attacker dissolved like mist under a scorching sun, revealing a man in torn, bloodied robes. His face was pale, his eyes wide and manic, his lips twisted into an expression of ecstatic triumph.
Caster.
"Got you," he whispered, his voice a lover's caress.
Nephis swayed. Her legs gave out.
Something in Sunny's mind snapped. A red veil descended over his vision. The two shadows at his feet exploded upward, wrapping around his legs and back, and he moved.
He crossed the distance in a blur of darkness and fury. His boot connected with Caster's ribs with a sound like a cannon firing. The traitor's eyes bulged, blood erupting from his mouth as he was launched backward.
He bounced across the chamber floor—once, twice, three times—before embedding into the granite wall with a sickening, wet crunch.
Sunny didn't watch him land. He was already turning, already dropping to his knees, catching Nephis before her head could strike the stone.
"Neph!" He lowered her gently, his hands trembling against her back. "Neph, look at me! Stay awake—heal yourself! Use the flames!"
She stared up at him, her grey eyes unfocused, pupils blown wide. Her lips moved, shaping words that made no sound.
The crimson dagger dissolved.
It didn't pull out. It simply broke apart into thousands of red sparks, like embers caught in an updraft, and sank into her chest. Her body convulsed. A ragged, agonized gasp tore from her throat, and her back arched violently.
"Can't..." she finally managed, her voice a thread. "Can't... feel. Can't... move. Sunny, I can't..."
Sunny pressed his hand to her chest, but there was no wound. The dagger had left no physical injury—only the hilt had been real. Whatever it had done was inside her soul, severing something vital.
A slow, coughing laughter echoed from the crater in the wall.
Caster peeled himself out of the rubble. His left arm hung at a grotesque angle, and blood poured from his nose and mouth, staining his teeth red. But he was grinning. Oh, he was grinning like a madman. He raised his enchanted jian, the blade humming with desperate, residual power.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" he wheezed, wiping blood from his chin with a trembling hand. "Madea's Dagger. A Transcended Memory. Forged by the King of Swords himself, given to me as an instrument of her death." He laughed, a high, mad sound that echoed in the dying chamber. "She can't heal, slave. She can't move. She can't even burn that pretty little soul of hers to fight back. The dagger severs the connection between Aspect and soul. It cages the spirit and lets the body die slowly. She's drowning in her own skin, and there is nothing you can do about it."
Sunny looked down at Nephis. Her skin was growing pale, cold as marble. The white flames that had always burned beneath her skin were gone, smothered by red sparks that pulsed beneath her ribs like a second, malignant heartbeat. Her eyes were still open, still conscious, but they were filling with tears of pain and frustration. She couldn't even twitch her fingers.
He gently, carefully, pushed a lock of silver hair from her face. His fingers came away stained with her blood.
"Rest," he said quietly. The word felt like glass in his throat. "Wait for me."
Her eyes tracked him, pleading, but she couldn't speak. Paralyzed. Dying.
Sunny laid her down on the cold stone. He stood.
He turned to face Caster.
The [Weaver's Mask] manifested on his face.
It wove itself from threads of shadow and starlight, a porcelain visage of alien beauty that hid his features behind an impassive, terrible expression. With it, his Flaw of Clear Conscience was suppressed. The compulsion to speak only truth vanished. He could lie. He could deceive. He could become the very monster Caster always claimed he was.
The Midnight Shard felt light in his grip. Hungry.
Caster spat blood and raised his jian with his one good arm. "Come then, gutter rat. Let's finish this."
---
Sunny didn't speak.
He pushed off with explosive force, the two shadows catapulting him forward with a violence that cracked the stone beneath his feet.
Caster's eyes widened—his Aspect surged, flooding his body with extreme speed, and he blurred sideways, the enchanted jian lashing out in a silver arc aimed at Sunny's heart.
But Sunny had already seen the fight play out in his mind.
Shadow Dance wasn't movement. It wasn't a style or a technique. It was understanding. He looked at Caster and saw the pattern: the slight shift of weight to the left heel, the rotation of the hip that telegraphed the angle of the blade, the telltale flicker in the wrist that meant a feint. He knew Caster would commit to a thrust at the last moment. He knew the exact trajectory, the exact speed, the exact millisecond it would arrive.
Sunny didn't dodge. He simply wasn't where the strike went.
The jian cut through empty air. Sunny stepped inside the arc, and drove his elbow into Caster's throat. The blow was enhanced by the Soul Serpent's essence, turning a simple strike into something that crunched cartilage and sent Caster stumbling backward, gagging.
"You—" Caster choked, eyes watering.
Sunny followed. No flourish. No wasted motion. He raised the Midnight Shard and brought it down in a vicious overhead chop. Caster barely got his jian up in time. The blades met with a shriek of metal, sparks showering down.
Caster tried to disengage, tried to use his speed to circle around. He was fast—inhumanly fast. His Aspect made him a blur, a streak of silver and shadow. But speed meant nothing when your enemy knew where you would be before you did.
Sunny turned, not because he saw Caster move, but because the Shadow Dance told him the pattern: Circle right. Aim for the kidney. Expect a block, so shift to a low sweep.
When Caster appeared at his right, the Midnight Shard was already there. The jian met the tachi, and Sunny's two shadows surged, flooding his arms with terrible strength. He rebuffed Caster's blade with such force that the traitor's arm was thrown wide, leaving his chest exposed.
Sunny kicked him in the sternum.
Caster flew back, crashing into a fallen column. Stone shattered. He rolled to his feet, coughing blood, his face twisted with rage and disbelief.
"How?!" he screamed. "How are you keeping up?! You're nothing—a slave, a gutter rat, a scourge on the earth!"
Sunny said nothing. He advanced, his boots crunching on broken stone.
Caster attacked again, a flurry of strikes so fast they seemed to exist in multiple places at once. The jian became a storm of silver death. Any other Sleeper would have been diced into pieces.
But Sunny didn't need to be faster. He just needed to know.
First strike: high left, decoy. Second: low right, true. Third: thrust to the gut, desperation.
The Midnight Shard moved in short, brutal arcs. Block. Parry. Rebuff. Each interception was perfectly placed, requiring minimal effort because Sunny was always already there. The Soul Serpent channeled essence into his wrists, making each deflection sting Caster's hands, numbing his grip. The two shadows made Sunny's body an immovable object.
"You ruined everything!" Caster shrieked, spitting blood with every word. He was falling apart, his composure shattered. "Years of work! Plans within plans! The King of Swords himself entrusted me with her death, and you—you filthy, gutter-born rat—you think you can stop it?!"
Sunny spoke then. His voice, modulated by the [Weaver's Mask], came out as something alien and cold. "Your plans succeeded because you aren't half as clever as you think, Caster. You aren't a dog on a leash, barking where your master tells you to. And dogs don't get put down."
Caster's face purpled with rage. He lunged, abandoning all defense, his jian aimed at Sunny's eye.
Sunny sidestepped. He let the blade pass so close it cut a lock of his hair. Then he brought the pommel of the Midnight Shard down on Caster's collarbone. The crack was audible. Caster screamed, his arm going limp, the jian falling from nerveless fingers.
Sunny caught the jian before it hit the ground and flung it away. It clattered into the darkness.
He grabbed Caster by the throat and lifted him off the ground with one hand—the strength of two shadows making it effortless. He slammed him against the wall.
"Any last words?" Sunny asked, his voice flat behind the mask.
Caster grinned through bloodied teeth. "You... lose... either way... slave..."
The floor beneath them groaned. A massive crack, born from their battle and the Spire's collapse, raced across the balcony like a lightning bolt.
The stone gave way.
They plummeted into the hollow darkness of the Spire's interior, falling through a rain of broken granite and dust. Caster flailed, screaming, trying to grab onto something. Sunny summoned the Dark Wing, slowing his descent, the transparent blur of the cloak catching the air.
They landed hard on a lower level, a narrow ledge jutting out into the abyss. Caster hit first, rolling with a cry of pain. Sunny landed in a crouch, the shadows cushioning the impact.
Above them, the Spire shuddered. The artificial sun was a dying ember now, casting barely any light. Down here, in the bowels of the tower, darkness reigned absolute.
Caster scrambled to his feet, backing away. Without his jian, without his speed advantage, he was just a wounded, cornered animal. His eyes darted around, but he could see nothing. The darkness was total.
"Show yourself!" Caster shrieked, his voice echoing. "Coward! Show yourself!"
Sunny stood in the darkness, silent. His Shadow Sense painted the world in shades of grey and black. He could see Caster perfectly—the panicked breathing, the trembling hands, the way he pressed his back against the cold wall.
"Here I am,"
Caster spun.
There was only a rock on the ground behind him. A trick. A lie.
He realized his mistake a fraction of a second too late.
Sunny was already behind him. The Midnight Shard, empowered by both shadows and the Soul Serpent's essence, swept through Caster's neck in a single, clean arc.
The head separated from the shoulders.
Blood fountained into the dark, painting the stones. The body stood for a moment, then crumpled.
Sunny looked down at the corpse. He felt nothing. No satisfaction. No relief. Just a hollow, ringing emptiness.
'No more fucks to give,' he thought.
He turned and climbed. The Spire was crumbling all around him, massive sections of stone breaking away and plunging into the darkness below. He scaled the broken walls, the Dark Wing helping him glide across gaps, until he pulled himself back onto the balcony of the Gateway.
Nephis lay where he had left her.
He ran to her and fell to his knees. Her breathing was so shallow it was almost nonexistent. Her skin was ice-cold. The red sparks of Madea's Dagger pulsed beneath her skin, dimmer now, like a fire running out of fuel.
"Neph," he said, his voice breaking. He lifted her gently, cradling her against his chest. She weighed nothing. "Neph, stay with me. Come on. Don't you dare. Don't you dare die on me."
Her eyes fluttered open. They were glassy, unfocused. She looked at him, and for a moment, clarity returned. Her lips moved, but no sound came out. A single tear traced down her temple.
Sunny looked at the Gateway.
The runes surrounding the iron ring were shimmering, weak and unstable, but active. One conduit. That was all it needed now. One Vessel to remain, one to leave.
He stood, holding her in his arms, and walked toward the light.
The runes grew brighter as he approached. The ethereal glow washed over them both, making her silver hair shine like starlight. He stepped into the ring. The familiar, dreamlike sensation began to overtake him—the feeling of waking from a dream.
He looked down at her face. Her eyes were barely open, watching him with an expression of incomprehension. She didn't understand. She was too far gone to understand.
"Hey..." Sunny said softly. His voice was rough, cracked. He tried to smile, but it felt like a wound. "You owe me for this. So... take care of my brother for me till I return. Okay?"
Her brow furrowed. Her lips parted. She tried to speak, to ask, to protest.
Sunny glanced at her incomprehensible expression one last time, memorizing it—the confusion, the dawning horror, the desperate refusal in her grey eyes.
Then he threw her.
Not gently. He hurled her into the center of the ring with all his strength, sending her body tumbling through the shimmering light. The Gateway flared blindingly bright, the runes screaming with power as they seized her and pulled her through.
The light consumed her.
And then, not a moment later, the runes flickered. They dimmed. They died.
The ring of the Gateway crumbled into dust and rust, the magic dissipating like smoke in a storm.
Above, the artificial sun gave one final, shuddering gasp of light—a pulse of white radiance that illuminated the Forgotten Shore for the last time.
Then it went dark.
The Crimson Spire trembled, and the world was swallowed by perfect, eternal shadow.
Sunny stood alone in the center of the dead Gateway, surrounded by collapsing stone and absolute darkness. He could feel the Soul Conduit in his chest, the white light spreading through his Soul Sea, claiming him as the sole Vessel of this dead machine.
He looked up at the black sky where the sun had been.
And he smiled.
'Alone again. Just like always.'
The darkness took him.