Nearly 720 hours of exhaustion hit Sunny with its full, crushing force. It was as though the very weight of time itself was bearing down on him, making it nearly impossible to stay on his feet. His body felt like it was made of lead. The nurse had already started him on his second dose of military-grade stims, her hands quick and practiced as she administered the shot. She also gave him two more to use at his discretion, but he knew they would only delay the inevitable. Nothing could truly prepare him for what was coming.
Sunny knew this was his last day on Earth... well, at least for a year. It was an odd thought, one that lingered in his mind, as if something about his memories insisted that this moment would be the final one before he was thrust back into the unknown. By nightfall, the Spell would take him away once again, this time to face the undocumented dangers of the Forgotten Shore. He had searched high and low for any scrap of information about it in the academy's archives, but he came up empty-handed. What could he possibly expect to face in this unexplored region? All he knew for certain was that [Fated] was going to make his life hell once again.
'Ugh.' He let out a deep sigh. There was no point in guessing. He had already done everything he could to prepare for the inevitable. He'd studied relentlessly with Teacher Julius, pushing himself to absorb every piece of knowledge. He'd trained with Caster, honing his skills in the art of combat, and with Instructor Rock, who had forced him to confront his greatest shortcomings . He had gathered intel on potential allies through Cassia, the blind girl who had become an unlikely source of support, and kept his secrets locked away. His Aspect was sharper than most, and his will to survive had been tempered by the brutal realities of the outskirts and the tormenting ordeal of the First Nightmare.
All in all, he was ready—or as ready as anyone could be when facing the unknown. With a heavy sigh, Sunny stepped into what would be his last hot shower in a long while. He was going to savor it, indulge in the warmth and comfort of something as simple as water cascading over his tired body. If it was going to be his last scrumptious breakfast for a while, at least he could take a moment to enjoy it.
Actually, he had no appetite.
The cafeteria was full of Sleepers, but it was eerily quiet. No one was talking. Everyone was lost in their own thoughts, their faces drawn with the weight of unspoken fears and worries. The usual noise—the laughter, the boisterous conversations—was absent. Only the Legacies remained calm and collected, as always. But even they seemed distant today, retreating into themselves as though preparing for something they couldn't yet name.
Sunny couldn't help but think back to the last time he was preparing to enter the Spell. He stood by the coffee machine, the familiar hum of the cafeteria now a dull background noise to his racing thoughts. He'd always known that many people liked to add sugar and milk to their coffee, just as he did. But today, on this fateful day, he decided he would drink it black. He couldn't explain why, but there was something comforting about doing this one simple thing differently. It felt almost like a tradition—one that, for some reason, mattered more than it should.
A few minutes later, he took his usual seat near Cassia, the blind girl who had become someone close to him despite the distance they kept from each other. She was one of the few people at the academy who didn't feel like a threat . They had spent time together, talking about the most mundane things—her preference for synthetic chicken nuggets over the real thing, or how her father had learned to drive despite never owning a P.T.V. They never discussed their fears or what lay ahead, though. Sunny hadn't seen the need.
'Okay, that's a bit harsh. Maybe the lack of sleep is finally catching up on me,' he thought, guilty for dismissing the girl who had, in her own way, become a lifeline.
But then, just as he took the first sip of his coffee, Cassia turned her head and stared at him with those beautiful, blind blue eyes. It was a rare thing for her to look at anyone so directly, especially him, so he felt a chill run through him.
He looked around, confused, scanning the room with his shadow sense. Was something behind him that had caught her attention? But no, there was nothing. Everything seemed still. He felt a knot in his stomach as he asked, almost absentmindedly, "W-what is it?"
Cassia was silent for a long moment, as if contemplating whether to say anything at all. Finally, she spoke, her voice soft and uncharacteristically warm.
"Happy Birthday."
Sunny froze. The words didn't make sense at first, and his head throbbed from the lack of sleep, the fog in his mind making it hard to process. His heart started to race, pounding against his ribs like it was trying to escape. Then, slowly, it hit him.
'Oh, right. It's my birthday today.'
He'd completely forgotten. Seventeen. He was turning seventeen today.
His eyes widened, and then a sudden question bubbled up: 'Wait... how did she know about this?' He gave Cassia a confused look, his mouth opening to ask, but then he stopped himself. She was just so hard to read sometimes. Instead, he shrugged it off and offered a tired smile.
"Uh… thanks, Cassie. Maybe we could celebrate it when we're back?"
With a simple nod, Cassia turned away and seemed to lose interest in the conversation as quickly as it had started. But something about her seemed different—happier, even. For some strange reason, that made him feel better.
Sunny returned to his coffee, finding it strangely comforting this time, though it did little to clear the fog in his mind. He felt on the edge of consciousness as he sipped, the warmth of the drink barely making a dent in his exhaustion.
'Seventeen, huh?' he thought to himself, trying to keep his emotions in check. He'd never expected to make it to this age. In fact, there had been a time when he didn't think he would survive this long. And yet, here he was.
If anyone had told him a year ago that he'd be celebrating his seventeenth birthday by drinking real coffee, he would have laughed in their face. But now, it was reality.
Unwillingly, he remembered all the people who had once celebrated his birthdays with him, a long time ago, in another life. He pushed the thought aside before it could sour his mood, forcing a small smile as he focused on the present.
'This isn't so bad. Let's do it again next year... when I'm already Awakened.'
'*'
There were no classes today, but Sunny still made the decision to visit the Wilderness Survival classroom, a quiet, familiar place, where he knew he had to say his goodbyes. Teacher Julius, the wise old man with a deep, gravelly voice, was already there, preparing for the day he knew was coming. Sunny's footsteps echoed softly as he entered, and the moment Julius saw him, his weathered face softened, his eyes glistening with an emotion Sunny hadn't expected.
The old man clapped him on the back with a strength that belied his age, then proceeded to give him "one last tip" — though, in reality, it was more like a dozen or so repetitions of the same advice. Each time, his voice wavered slightly, filled with the weight of unspoken fears and hopes. The old teacher even promised, in a voice cracked with emotion, that he would apply for a research assistant position to be opened once Sunny had become a full Awakened.
Sunny left the classroom, his heart tight. Despite his usual distance, Teacher Julius had grown on him over time. The kindness, the concern in his eyes, the hope he carried for Sunny's future — all of it struck a chord deep inside him.
After that, there wasn't much to do, the hours passing in a quiet blur as he walked through the empty halls of the academy, knowing that time was quickly running out.
As the sun began to sink lower in the sky, painting the world outside with a warm, golden glow, Instructor Rock gathered them all in the foyer of the Sleeper Center. The air was heavy with unspoken words as they made their way outside, joining a line of other Awakened guiding their own groups of Sleepers toward the same destination — the Academy's medical center.
The building stood in stark contrast to the usual clinical atmosphere of hospitals. It resembled a shrine more than anything else, its delicate architecture a blend of ancient mysticism and cutting-edge technology. Inside, the air hummed with quiet power, the kind that could only come from combining magic and science. The center housed not only some of the most advanced medical technology but also some of the most skilled Healers among the Awakened.
For the duration of their first journey into the Dream Realm, Sleepers would be placed in specially designed pods, their bodies protected and sustained by these Healers, should anything unfortunate happen while they were lost in the Spell. However, despite the care they would receive, the true outcome rested in the hands of the Sleepers themselves.
To his surprise, Instructor Rock did not take them directly to the Sleeper pods. Instead, he led them to a quieter, more deserted floor, one that Sunny hadn't even known existed in the massive complex. As Rock opened the door to a spacious gallery, the group stepped inside, greeted by the sight of rows upon rows of wheelchairs. Each wheelchair held a person, their faces serene but empty — blank, as if all the life within them had been drained away.
The room was suffused with the glowing crimson rays of the setting sun, casting long, eerie shadows across the silent figures. There was no movement, no sound, except for the soft footfalls of their own shoes against the polished floor. Sunny's stomach tightened as he looked around, unease creeping down his spine. These people — they were Hollow.
The Instructor's voice broke the silence, heavy with gravitas. "There is a reason I brought you here. Look well, and remember. Some of you may know who these people are... for those of you who don't, they are called Hollow."
Sunny felt his heart drop as the meaning of the word sank in. His thoughts raced.
Instructor Rock gritted his teeth, his expression grim. "Each of these individuals was once either a Sleeper or an Awakened. Some were weak, some were strong, and some were incredibly powerful. But all of them perished in the Dream Realm."
The words hit like a slap.
'Their... their souls are gone,' Sunny realized, his stomach churning with horror.
"If you're lucky," Rock continued, his voice tinged with bitterness, "when your spirit is destroyed, your body dies with it. But if not... you end up like them. Hollow."
The Instructor's gaze swept over the room, finally landing on the group. He looked toward Caster and Nephis, who stood together at the back, before adding, his voice heavy with a kind of grim determination, "So don't die out there."
***
Meanwhile, in the teacher's lounge, the year's conversation was taking place once more. The room was filled with the quiet rustle of paper as a few dozen Awakened teachers and instructors crowded around the table, going over the dossiers of this year's batch of Sleepers.
"Let's get to the last batch, then. Who among them showed the most remarkable potential?" asked the elderly, grizzled woman at the head of the table. Her sharp eyes seemed to miss nothing as she scanned the files.
In response, three folders were handed to her, and as she opened them, the conversation began.
"This last month had quite a promising group," Rock responded, his voice measured and calm. "At the top is Changing Star of the Immortal Flame."
"Others, like the Han Li boy, are already associated with one of the great clans," he added with a knowing look.
"Well, most, but one," Julius spoke up, his voice proud. "Sleeper Sunless is nothing short of a protégé when it comes to the theoretical part of things. I even plan to take him on as an assistant."
"Ah, but he lacks the basic principles of sword fighting," Rock countered, his tone blunt.
"Life is more than just swinging a piece of iron!" Julius shot back with a hint of frustration.
"Now, now, let's not have this conversation again," the elderly woman interrupted, her voice firm yet tinged with amusement. "Rock, what can you tell me about Lady Nephis?"
"Well," Rock began, clearly with some effort, "it would be easier to talk about what she doesn't excel in. She's top of her class in every subject. On paper, she's perfect. But... she lacks people skills, she has no friends, and her personality is, well, abysmal," he concluded awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.
"As expected," the principal said, her face creasing with the weight of years. "She did live quite the sheltered life, after all."
"Moving on to Caster Han Li," Rock continued, now turning to a more favorable subject. "The young Legacy is everything one could hope for in a Sleeper. His theoretical knowledge in survival techniques is far beyond his peers. He's just below Lady Nephis in swordsmanship, having even beaten her with his Aspect. On top of that, he's responsible for his fellow Sleepers, taking Sunless on as his apprentice over the past month."
"And what are the odds of us getting him to join the academy?" the principal asked, eyes narrowing.
"Rather slim, ma'am. His clan is in a bit of a mess right now, and he's likely to seek closer ties with the Valor Clan because of it."
"Alright, then," the principal muttered. "I suppose we would classify them both as White Tigers."
Julius seized the opportunity to gloat about his star pupil.
"Moving on to Sunless," he said, "he may have a lot to learn, especially compared to the Legacies, but the boy would only need a few months of tutoring to surpass them. Thanks to his Attributes and sharp intelligence, few things could stop him from becoming a master, I would say."
"So he sounds like he's fit for the Koi's designation?" the principal mused, as the conversation about which Sleepers would be targeted for recruitment came to a close.
***
Half an hour later, the Sleepers were all in their personal rooms, preparing to enter their pods.
In one room, Cassia, the blind girl, stood trembling, her fingers brushing against the strange walls and unfamiliar machinery. Tears streamed down the delicate dolls face, and despite her calm exterior, it was clear how terrified she was.
In another room, Legacy Caster sat in silence, next to his copy of the book *New thorn*, staring blankly at the floor. His lips moved in a frantic murmur, repeating one strange phrase over and over, trembling as the weight of the moment settled in.
Meanwhile, Changing Star Nephis, the last daughter of the Immortal Flame clan, stared at her hands, where a soft white radiance was beginning to pulse beneath her skin. Her face contorted in agony as the light grew brighter, her body betraying her with an excruciating intensity.
And finally, in another room, Shadow Slave Sunless stood by his pod, glancing down at his shadow with a mixture of resignation and determination. "Well? Are you ready?"
The shadow, ever elusive, shrugged without responding.
Sunny sighed. "Yeah, me too."
With that, he climbed into the pod, the hum of machinery filling the air around him.
'*'
In the vast, echoing darkness, he heard:
[Welcome to the Dream Realm, Sunless!]
'*'
Sunny had learned to swim long before he had ever imagined needing the skill in a place like this. But considering the nature of his world and his limited options, it had only seemed logical. After all, while he didn't know exactly what the Forgotten Shore was, the name itself suggested the presence of a vast, ominous body of water. And as time passed, it had become clear that he could not afford to leave any potential weakness unaddressed.
Though he had only a month to prepare for the trials ahead, he made the most of every day. Teacher Julius had drilled swimming techniques into him, and Sunny had spent hours in the simulation capsules—trying to perfect his skills, trying to prepare for the worst. It wasn't enough time, but it was what he had.
'I really have to thank both the old man and Master Jet once I come back. They saved my life.'
Still, despite the lessons and the drills, nothing could truly prepare him for the shock of being submerged in that cold, endless darkness.
When the Spell greeted him, he had expected to witness the familiar view from above, just like during the First Nightmare. Back then, time had briefly reversed itself, allowing him to glimpse the challenges that awaited him. But this time, everything was different. There were no cryptic hints or mysterious premonitions. No signs to guide him.
Instead, Sunny found himself plunging into cold water with no warning, blind and drowning.
He gasped for breath, instinctively opening his mouth to scream, but before he could, salty water rushed in, flooding his lungs. His throat seized, forcing him to choke, to twitch and spasm in the suffocating embrace of the sea. Every inhaled breath felt like fire, and his heart pounded in his chest, the rush of adrenaline pumping through his veins.
But the worst part was not just the pain. It was the cold, oppressive darkness that surrounded him. His eyes useless, leaving him with only the ability to rely on his right eye and his shadow-sensing ability. The darkness wasn't the typical kind of pitch black. It was deep, as if the very water he was in consumed all light—a thick, drowning void that had no end.
Usually, Sunny didn't fear darkness. In fact, it was something he had grown to embrace. His affinity to shadows had always been a strength, one he could depend on. But now, in this suffocating blackness, it was as if his connection to it had been severed. No, it was more like the water itself was a living veil, suffocating the light around him.
It wasn't just the lack of light—it was as if the water itself blocked him from seeing through the usual veil of shadows. Without his left eye to rely on and the disorienting, overpowering pressure of the water, Sunny's senses began to panic. Everything felt wrong. His body was trembling uncontrollably, not from cold but from a primal fear.
He couldn't see. He couldn't feel the familiar pull of shadows around him.
If not for the special space perception he'd learned to hone through his affinity to shadows, he would have been completely disoriented. With that subtle, eerie sense, he managed to gather his bearings—barely. He could feel the direction of up and down, the faintest, instinctual pull of gravity. That was all that kept him from truly losing himself in the deep, crushing sea.
It was like being caught in a nightmare, except this was real. This was the Forgotten Shore.
Gritting his teeth, Sunny forced himself to ignore the panic clawing at his chest. The bitter taste of salt in his mouth was sharp, and his lungs screamed for air. He had been training for this moment, though he hadn't known it would feel so terrifying. He only had one month to prepare for this trial, and the time was quickly running out. He wasn't ready, but he would have to be.
'Focus,' he thought, forcing the words through the fog of panic. 'Calm down. Just keep swimming.'
His lessons with Teacher Julius—his extensive, brutal lessons—had prepared him for this moment. He had drilled breathing techniques, practiced endurance, and spent hours in water. Though he hadn't had time to perfect every aspect, his swimming was strong enough to keep him alive.
He began to swim upward, counting in his mind, each stroke filled with the sharp sting of desperation. The air above seemed so far away, like a distant, unreachable sanctuary. His body felt heavy, weighed down by the water's crushing pressure. His arms and legs burned as they cut through the waves, but there was no choice. He swam, his mind focused only on reaching the surface.
A few long moments stretched into eternity. Finally, his head broke through the water, and he gasped—air pouring into his lungs in a rush of painful relief. His chest heaved, his body shaking from the shock, but he clung to that moment of life with desperate gratitude.
'Breathe, breathe, you're alive,' he repeated in his head, forcing himself to steady his heartbeat. The coldness of the water still clung to him, his entire body shivering, but he was alive. He was still here.
Once his breathing slowed, he forced his mind to focus. He spun cautiously in the water, trying to understand what surrounded him. What he saw made his stomach churn with dread.
Before him stretched an endless expanse of water, a sea as black as the void. The waves were not merely dark because of a lack of light—they seemed to absorb the very essence of it. Above, the sky was a fathomless, empty black. No stars. No moon. Nothing. Just an oppressive, consuming emptiness that stretched as far as the eye could see.
The reality of his situation hit him hard. 'This is... an ocean? But I was supposed to land on a shore. How can there be no land? How can there be nothing? I… I don't understand.'
His thoughts raced, swirling into a whirlpool of confusion and fear. He couldn't afford to panic. But the sense of isolation, of being utterly alone in the dark sea, felt suffocating. The weight of it pressed on his chest, but he fought it down, focusing again on his breathing.
A sudden sound pierced the stillness—a deep, resonant hum, like the thrumming of a massive creature beneath the water. The sound drew his attention.
Turning slowly, Sunny saw it: a massive triangular dorsal fin cutting through the water. It was still far, hundreds of meters away, but it seemed to loom impossibly large, growing ever larger as it moved closer.
His pulse spiked. 'Wait… if it's that far away, how can I see it so clearly? What is this? How am I seeing it at all?'
His right eye, which was still functional, widened in horror. Despite being submerged, the image was too sharp. Too real.
A cold sweat broke out across his body. The shape, the massive fin, was no mere fish—it was something far more terrifying. The thing was growing larger with each second, closer and closer, and Sunny realized with growing panic that it was coming for him.
'Damn you, [Fated]! Why me? Why now?'
He didn't know why he blamed his attribute, but it felt right—like the shadow of fate had cast its dark hand on him. And he had no choice but to fight it.
With fear gnawing at his every thought, Sunny spun, desperately looking for something—anything—that might help him escape. That's when he spotted it. A dark mass, protruding from the water a short distance away. A shadowed rock, jutting above the waves.
Without thinking, he commanded his shadow to move, to wrap itself around his body and propel him forward. The familiar pull of the darkness answered his call, doubling his speed. He swam toward the mass with frantic strokes, each one more desperate than the last.
But the creature was closing in fast, its enormous form rapidly approaching. It was only a matter of time before it reached him.
He pushed himself harder, faster, until at last, with every ounce of strength left, he grabbed hold of the black mass. Pain shot up his arms as his fingers scraped against the sharp, uneven rocks, but he didn't care. He pulled himself onto the mass, his heart pounding in his chest.
Just as he rolled away from the water's edge, a horrifying tremor ran through the ground beneath him. It was as though something massive had collided with it. He barely had time to react before monstrous jaws broke through the surface, revealing rows of teeth as long as he was tall.
He froze, eyes wide with terror. His grip on the rocks tightened, but the surface he was clinging to wasn't tall enough to protect him from the beast below. His mind raced, searching for a way out.
But then, just as quickly, the surface of the water exploded. A massive, black tentacle shot from the deep, rising into the air like a grotesque tower, casting a long shadow over everything.
Sunny's body went stiff. He squeezed his eyes shut, remembering Teacher Julius's warning: Never look directly at Nightmare Creatures of a higher rank.
"That damned calamari is at least of the Fallen rank!" he muttered under his breath, the words a strange comfort.
The tentacle fell, crashing down with terrifying speed. It wrapped around the beast's maw, dragging it back beneath the waves, taking it away with terrifying force.
For a long moment, everything was still. The sea fell silent. The waves, once crashing with monstrous force, now rolled lazily under the endless black sky.
Sunny collapsed onto the ground, his legs numb, his body shaking uncontrollably. His breath came in shallow gasps, and his heart hammered in his chest. His mind reeled, trying to process what had just happened.
The sea was calm again. Silent. Indifferent.
And as Sunny lay there, he couldn't help but wonder:
'How many more monsters were waiting in this endless, dark sea'
.'*'
A few minutes later, Sunny was pretty sure that nothing was going to devour him—at least, not immediately. With that certainty sinking in, a strange calmness started to spread through him. The gnawing, frantic trembling in his body gradually eased, allowing him the mental clarity to look around and take in his surroundings for the first time since he had scrambled onto this strange platform.
The black mass he had climbed onto turned out to be a single stone platform, about twelve meters in diameter. Its surface was mostly flat, with subtle grooves carved into the stone, giving it a textured appearance. While it wasn't entirely dry, there was a noticeable absence of moisture on its surface. The edges of the platform were uniformly straight, almost too perfect, with a symmetry that felt unnatural, as if it had been crafted with intent. It certainly didn't look like a natural formation, but in the Dream Realm, where the very rules of reality seemed to warp and bend, he was wary of making assumptions. He was beginning to suspect that what appeared "man-made" might be something entirely different altogether, something *other* than what he could fathom.
Better not to think about it.
The platform was entirely isolated, existing as a solitary island amidst the vast, suffocating sea of darkness. Nothing else rose above the water's surface, stretching into the pitch-black horizon in every direction. No distant shapes, no land in sight. Just a void. After he absorbed that sobering realization, another uncomfortable truth hit him with an almost physical weight.
He was wet. Cold. And completely naked.
'Huh.'
In his defense, the issue of his state of undress was the last thing on his mind when he'd been trying to save himself from those abyssal monsters lurking below the surface. Besides, there was no one around to witness his stark paleness, or his private bits. The idea of anyone seeing him in such a vulnerable state seemed almost laughable—especially when survival had taken precedence.
Still, it was kind of cold.
With a mental flick, Sunny summoned the Puppeteer's Shroud, a wave of dark-grey fabric enveloping his body in a soft, comforting embrace. His skin was immediately shielded from the biting chill of the air. The fabric felt like a second skin, flowing effortlessly over his frame, and, to his surprise, it even materialized a pair of high, soft-soled leather boots, perfect for this unfamiliar terrain. He stood, flexing his fingers, adjusting to the weight of the boots, and for the first time since arriving in the Forgotten shore , he felt safer. The warmth of the garment seeped into his bones, calming the lingering unease in his chest.
Not to mention, much warmer.
He wasn't about to stop there, though. With a steadying breath, he reached into his memories, calling forth two of the items he had inherited from his teacher.
The first was *[Twins Bane]*—a primitive, two-sided bladed Pesh-kabz, dark and ominous in design, its ivory hilt gleaming faintly in the dim light. The second was a small, seemingly insignificant charm, the [A Stubborn Legacy], a fossilized ring of fungus. Its simple form belied its significance—this memory was a relic of the sixth tier, a gift from Julius himself after his acquisition from a member of the Valor Clan following their subjugation of the Forest Titan. He had only a rough idea of the full extent of its power , but the mere presence of the charm provided a sense of reassurance.
He looked down at the weapons, feeling the weight of them settle into his thoughts like a promise. He had tools, now, if things got worse. And with that, he could relax—just a little.
Sunny sat down in the center of the platform, gazing out at the dark, endless sea. No one else appeared to be nearby, and he didn't expect anyone would be.
'Of course not,' he thought bitterly, a flicker of resentment stirring in his chest. 'Even if some unlucky souls had stumbled onto this place, they'd probably never end up anywhere near me. Not with my cursed luck.'
For now, he was alone. Alone with the creatures lurking beneath the water's surface. At least until the dawn—if there was such a thing in this dark, endless void.
After a few moments of hesitation, Sunny made up his mind. Swimming toward a distant piece of land made no sense. He couldn't even see land, let alone determine which direction to swim. No, it was better to stay put, at least for now.
He turned his gaze toward his shadow, *Gloomy*, who lay stretched out beside him. It had become a familiar presence, though its mood was always more difficult to decipher.
"This must be a paradise for you, right? All this gloom, and not a star in sight!" Sunny chuckled, trying to inject some humor into the situation, though he knew Gloomy wouldn't respond. The shadow was as silent and still as ever, its form shifting slightly as if to acknowledge his words—or perhaps to ignore them entirely.
"Anyway... good job earlier," he added, giving the shadow a grateful nod. It had been his only companion in that suffocating blackness, and there was something about its presence that made him feel less alone.
With a resigned sigh, he laid back, using his hands as a makeshift pillow. He stared up at the impenetrable black sky, his thoughts growing hazy. The sound of the undulating waves, gently rolling across the surface of the sea, was oddly calming. For the first time since his arrival, his mind began to settle, drifting in and out of consciousness.
Minutes melted together, hours seemed to pass, and the heavy silence of the sea wrapped around him like a blanket.
Suddenly, his senses sharpened. A slight change in the rhythmic sound of the waves caught his attention. It was subtle, but something in the way the water shifted told him that something was changing. With a jolt, he opened his eyes, scanning the horizon. That's when he saw it—a faint greyish hue creeping into one corner of the sky. Slowly, as though reluctant to reveal itself, a pale sun began to rise above the horizon, casting a dim, ethereal glow over the dark sea.
A new day had come to the starless void.
And with it, the dark sea suddenly surged.
'*'
Gloomy had proven himself to be quite the invaluable tool—his existence as a shadow unshackled him from the constraints of gravity itself. Thanks to that, and his one good eye, Sunny had no illusions about just how utterly and thoroughly screwed he was.
At present, he was perched precariously on the neck of a gargantuan, decapitated statue—one so ancient and immense that merely standing upon it made him feel like an insect crawling across the remains of some long-forgotten god. There was something eerily familiar about it, a strange sense of déjà vu gnawing at the edges of his mind. The statue towered above the ruined expanse, at least two hundred meters tall, its sheer scale enough to boggle the mind. From what he could make out, it depicted a knight clad in elaborate, masterfully crafted plate armor. Seven gleaming stars were carved into the metal of his breastplate, and in his massive hands, the knight gripped an equally enormous sword, the blade pointed downward in an almost solemn gesture.
Sunny exhaled, his breath lost to the endless void of the labyrinth. He began to move, circling the massive effigy with cautious, deliberate steps. But then—he stopped.
A sharp chill slithered down his spine.
Down below, nestled within the statue's vast shadow, something gruesome lay sprawled upon the broken ground.
The corpse of the massive, shark-like creature that had hunted him the night before was strewn across the ruined landscape, its monstrous bulk dwarfing even the remnants of the coral pillars surrounding it. Well… half of it, at least. The thing had been cleaved apart so cleanly that it looked as if some invisible force had simply erased the other half from existence. Its exposed innards spilled out grotesquely, stretching deep into the distance, a sickening tapestry of viscera and sinew.
But the worst part wasn't the corpse itself.
It was what was feasting upon it.
Hundreds—perhaps even thousands—of creatures scuttled over the fallen leviathan, their grotesque forms writhing and wriggling in a frenzied feeding frenzy. Each one stood nearly two and a half meters tall, an abomination of twisted evolution, as if some mad god had stitched together a demonic crab, a centaur, and a living nightmare.
They moved with an eerie, unnatural grace, their long, segmented legs ending in curved, scythe-like protrusions that scraped against the ruined stone. Their torsos jutted grotesquely from their carapace-covered lower halves, encased in thick, chitinous armor that gleamed under the dim, sourceless light of the labyrinth. Where a head should have been, there was only a nightmarish amalgamation of features—two narrow slits where eyes should be, and a glistening, viscous maw lined with quivering, slimy mandibles.
And then there were the pincers.
Massive, brutal things, capable of rending flesh and crushing bone with ease. Right now, those pincers were at work, greedily tearing chunks of meat from the leviathan's rotting carcass and stuffing them into the creatures' insatiable maws. A chorus of wet, squelching noises filled the air, punctuated only by the occasional shriek as fights broke out among them. When that happened, a handful of creatures would be torn apart, their own flesh quickly devoured by their ravenous kin.
It was a bloodthirsty, mindless cycle of violence and consumption.
Sunny swallowed, his throat dry.
The sight of so many heavily armored, powerful monsters sent a gnawing unease crawling through his gut. But even more than that… watching them feast made something stir deep within him. A primal, hungry sensation, one he had long since learned to recognize.
Hunger.
"Each of them looks like trouble. And there are hundreds of them."*
His luck, as always, was spectacularly terrible.
"At least I don't have to wonder why the labyrinth feels so empty. Looks like all the inhabitants are throwing a banquet."
Despite himself, he let out a soft exhale, more resigned than anything else. Still, he wasn't foolish enough to turn his back on that kind of horde. The monsters may have been preoccupied with their feast for now, but that could change in an instant.
Instead, he gave a silent command to his shadow, urging it to slither back toward the towering statue beneath him. Something about it unsettled him. There was a strange, oppressive weight pressing down on his thoughts, a whisper of unease coiling in the recesses of his mind.
And yet, despite that ominous feeling…
He knew one thing for certain.
He couldn't leave.
Not yet.
Not today.
'*'
"The darker the world around you, the farther a fire can be seen."
The words surfaced in his mind, unbidden—a lesson taught by his teacher Julius. A whisper from the past, echoing in the emptiness of the present.
Out here, where the ocean was an endless, black void and the night swallowed even the horizon, the rule was absolute. A fire in the daylight was just another flicker. A fire in the dusk could be hidden in the haze. But in true darkness—deep, perfect, absolute darkness—flames could be seen from miles away.
He stared across the abyss, watching that distant glow shimmer against the endless expanse of water. Small. Fragile. But unmistakable. Someone had chosen to burn. Someone had chosen to be seen.
Not just by him, but the dwellers of the Dark-sea.
He did think about the possibility of it being a natural phenomenon like will'o'wisp or a nightmare Creature, but that didn't feel right.
And in that moment, he had to decid,
Would he move toward the light once daylight came Or stay in the safety of the stone knight?
'*'
As soon as the first light of morning broke across the labyrinth, the pincer monsters stirred from their hiding places. Crawling out of the shadows like grotesque insects, they surged toward the colossal carcass, eager to continue their feast.
Sunny watched them in silence, his expression unreadable. For a long moment, he simply observed, his thoughts drifting like restless waves. Then, with a quiet sigh, he turned away, striding toward the opposite edge of the platform. His gaze lifted, searching the horizon—searching for that place.
Far beyond the ruined expanse, five or six kilometers away, the ground swelled into a natural rise, forming something akin to a hill. At its peak stood a massive coral pillar, taller and more formidable than the rest. Its gnarled branches stretched toward the heavens, and from what he could tell, its highest reaches remained above water during the night.
Sunny narrowed his eyes. That was where he had seen the light.
A storm of thoughts raged within him, possibilities rising and falling in rapid succession. But in the end, only two questions truly mattered.
Could he reach it?
And, more importantly…
Should he?
There was no way of knowing whether the source of the light was something benevolent—or something utterly monstrous. No way of knowing if it meant salvation or death.
Lacking the answers, he remained where he was, watching the creatures below with cold calculation. Still, he was not entirely passive. His shadow slithered into the darkness, sent forth to probe the labyrinth as far as the reach of Shadow Control allowed. Perhaps, at the very least, it would find the beginnings of a path.
For now, this was the safest place he could be. The headless statue was a fortress against the unknown, an island of precarious security in a sea of shifting horrors. And thanks to [Trinity], he could survive indefinitely without food or water.
He could stay here.
He could wait.
But deep down, he already knew that he wouldn't.
There were two reasons.
The first was simple logic—this existence, this careful balancing act between hunger and fear, had no future. It could keep him alive, but it would never let him live. If he resigned himself to spending the rest of his days lurking in the shadow of this fallen giant, feeding off scraps, flinching at every distant sound…
Then what was the point?
And the second reason?
It was less rational. Less concrete.
His scar ached whenever he entertained the thought of staying.
That was enough.
One way or another, he would reach the source of that light. And if he was truly going to attempt it, he had to move before the pincer monsters were done devouring the leviathan's remains. While they were distracted, the labyrinth would be empty—a fleeting window of opportunity.
The decision was made.
Tomorrow, at dawn, he would leave the headless statue behind. Today, he would use what little time remained to prepare—to map out his path, to gather what little he could, to steel himself for what was to come.
Closing his eyes, he let his perception sink into the movements of his shadow.
*
That night, the storm came.
It descended without warning, a howling force that lashed against the world with merciless intensity. The Dream Realm was often cruel, but in this moment, it almost seemed indifferent—as if the storm existed not to torment him, but simply because it could.
Rain battered the broken stone. Winds screamed through the shattered remains of the labyrinth. The air was thick with salt and dampness, the cold gnawing deep into his bones.
For most, a storm like this would be a gift—a rare and precious source of water in a place where survival hinged on scarcity. But for Sunny, it was only a source of discomfort. The wind clawed at him with icy fingers, seeping through his skin, turning his limbs stiff and sluggish.
He needed to escape.
And so, he descended inward—retreating from the storm, from the cold, from the trembling weight of his mortal shell. He let go of the world outside and sank into the abyss of his Soul Sea.
There, in the vast shadowy expanse, his Soul Core pulsed like a dying star. It did not glow—it radiated something deeper, something unnatural. A light that was not light. Unlight.
And all around it, the iridescent web spread.
It was everywhere—woven through every fiber of his being, threading itself into the very fabric of his existence. But as he followed its intricate design, he saw something more.
The web extended beyond him.
It stretched into the shadows—into the remnants of those he had slain, their fading echoes still tangled in its grasp. It reached into the darkness, expanding in directions he could not yet comprehend.
It reached toward his memories.
"What are you?"
Sunny had a vague idea where the [web] came from, thanks to the bits and pieces he could recall of the life Az had lead .
The question lingered in the silence of his mind. He had no answer.
[Trinity] was something he could feel, even if he did not fully understand it. But [Web]…
[Web] remained a mystery.
It had granted him power. It had reshaped him. But beyond that? He had no idea what it truly was. But he knew that the work of the ^Friends^ always had a catch, those creatures were not malicious but like children they really understood what they did.
As he turned the thought over in his mind, the lessons from the academy surfaced—old training, combat drills, fragments of wisdom drilled into him by tired instructors. He let his mind drift, sorting through each memory, each piece of knowledge.
And so, as the storm raged on, as the winds howled and the rain continued to fall, Sunny barely noticed when the first pale rays of the false sun touched his ghostly face.
'*'
Sunny couldn't help but silently thank his Wilderness Survival classes once again. The skills he'd learned from them had proven invaluable, especially the basics of rock climbing. Teacher Julius had been adamant about ensuring his students were prepared for any situation. Whether it was scaling cliffs, traversing precarious ledges, or navigating treacherous terrain, he'd given them a crash course in all forms of traversal. And now, that knowledge was serving Sunny well.
In addition, the young man had already scouted the safest and most efficient way down from the headless statue. With his shadow's help, he'd memorized every hold and indentation, every slight crack in the surface of the stone that he could grab onto. The shadow had been invaluable, its keen awareness allowing him to plan the descent carefully.
At long last, his feet touched the cold, firm earth below.
Despite the fact that leaving the relative safety of the headless statue meant stepping directly into danger, a wave of relief washed over him. For the first time in days, he felt a spark of something akin to hope. The weight of inaction had been gnawing at him. He didn't belong in that stagnant place, doing nothing but watching the monsters below. Remaining passive had not suited him well—he had never been one to sit idly by when there was something to be done. Now, regardless of the outcome, he was finally taking the reins.
Even if this plan ended in failure, at least he would be going down on his own terms. Trying and failing, he thought, was far better than not trying at all.
The black mud beneath his feet was thick and cloying, slowing his movements, but not as much as he'd feared. With every step, he found his rhythm, the squelching sounds of his boots becoming less pronounced as his movements grew more fluid. He'd learned to navigate it with practice. As long as he stayed close to the shadows, his steps were light and silent, a whisper against the suffocating stillness of the labyrinth.
Determined, he set his course for one of the paths he believed would lead him toward the distant hill. His eyes narrowed as he entered the cool, oppressive shade of the crimson labyrinth. The air seemed to thicken with an unsettling heaviness, and as he walked deeper, an eerie sensation crept over him. It was as if the world beyond the labyrinth had ceased to exist, replaced by nothing but winding, shadow-filled corridors that seemed to stretch on forever.
'This thing almost seems endless,' he thought grimly, shaking his head to clear the growing sense of claustrophobia.
He couldn't afford to lose focus, not now. Sunny sent his shadow ahead, trusting it to scout the path and keep him warned of any hidden threats. He had no intention of dying in this maze, not when there was still a chance to escape. His survival now depended on whether he could reach the hill before the sun set. He didn't dare think of what might happen if he were still wandering the labyrinth when the dark sea returned in its relentless surge.
The shadow moved ahead, weaving between the twisting paths, undeterred by any obstacles. Sometimes, it climbed higher to scout the directions of other possible routes, allowing Sunny to pick the best course forward. He felt a flicker of hope—things were going well. At least for now.
But it wasn't long before he found himself backtracking. Twice, he had to retreat, finding himself either at a dead end or trapped on a path leading in the wrong direction. Still, he pressed on, refusing to let the setbacks dishearten him.
For the most part, however, things were progressing smoothly. He even had moments to spare to take in the labyrinth's eerie interior, noticing the subtle details that had once eluded him—twisted growths of crimson coral and strange, unrecognizable bones scattered in the mud.
It was going too well.
And that, he realized, was the problem.
He allowed himself to relax just a little, his confidence rising as he continued his journey. After all, he had prepared meticulously. He'd been thorough in his planning, and with his shadow as an ally, he couldn't fail. He patted himself on the back mentally. Everything was going just as he'd hoped.
That was his mistake.
Just as the thought crossed his mind, the mud in front of him began to shift.
Sunny froze, but it was already too late.
In the blink of an eye, a massive pincer erupted from the ground, rocketing through the air with terrifying speed. It cut the air with a vicious snap, coming straight for him, its jagged, chitinous edges gleaming with the promise of death.
'
Damnation!
The thought slammed into Sunny's mind like a thunderclap, and he moved instinctively, his body jerking awkwardly as he desperately tried to get away. But his reaction was a split second too slow. The massive pincer shot out from the earth like a striking serpent, the jagged chitinous blades gleaming with malevolent intent.
The pincer's bite missed him by the width of a hair, but it was close enough that the air itself seemed to crack under the force of the strike. The force of the attack was like a wave crashing into him, and the ground shook beneath his feet. He could feel the mud tremble, sending shockwaves up his spine as the pincer snapped shut with an ear-splitting "clack." The violent strike came within inches of decapitating him, and for a moment, time seemed to slow, each agonizing heartbeat stretching forever as he saw the deadly claws gleaming right in front of his face. He could see flecks of mud clinging to the pincer's surface, as if mocking his near-death.
Sunny hit the ground hard. His back slammed into the soft, slippery mud with a wet, sickening thud. The breath was knocked out of him, and he wheezed as his body scrambled to find purchase in the treacherous muck. His heart hammered in his chest, his skin slick with sweat and mud as he struggled to rise.
That was too close.
He had narrowly escaped the monster's deadly pincer strike, but now he was sprawled helplessly on the ground, vulnerable. The massive, bloodthirsty claw still hovered above him like the shadow of death. Sunny knew he couldn't afford to waste a second—his life depended on it.
His muscles screamed as he pushed himself into motion, twisting his body to roll sideways. The pincer snapped downward, slamming into the mud with the force of a wrecking ball. The impact sent small tremors rippling through the ground. If not for his quick reaction, Sunny would have been crushed under the beast's monstrous strength. He could feel the air shift as the pincer cut through the space where he had just been. The ground trembled as the blow impacted, and the sound of the earth cracking under the force made Sunny's teeth rattle.
His body was still tangled in the mud when the pincer swiped sideways, slicing through the air like a guillotine. But Sunny had prepared. Instead of attempting a risky dodge or trying to block the pincer with his arms, he went with it—he let the claw make contact with his outstretched hands, using the momentum of the blow to absorb the strike and redirect it.
The pain shot up his arms like a bolt of lightning. His muscles burned, his hands screamed in agony as the pincer's force smashed into his body. But he had no time to dwell on it. With his body sent flying backward by the force, he used the motion to propel himself out of the pincer's range.
He might not have been trained in the art of fighting, but one thing Sunny knew intimately was how to fall.
His body hit the ground again, but this time, he didn't break his neck. Instead, he braced himself, tucking his limbs and rolling with the impact. He felt the sting of the mud scraping against his skin, but he had enough awareness to absorb the force of the fall and roll smoothly, stopping some distance away from the monster.
'I take it back!' Sunny thought bitterly, his mind flashing back to all the times he'd mocked Hero's battle rolls. 'Rolling is an integral part of any respectable monster-fighting technique!'
He managed to stagger to his feet, but as he looked up, a chilling sight awaited him. The creature had finally revealed itself fully.
It towered over him, its hulking frame casting a vast, looming shadow across the crimson labyrinth. Its body was covered in thick, chitinous armor that shimmered faintly in the gloom, but it was clear the beast was far from pristine. Its tiny eyes glinted with malice, their hunger almost palpable as they locked onto him. A guttural screech split the air, grating against his nerves as the creature's mandibles clicked together.
'Why aren't you feasting on the carcasses with your buddies, you crab bastard?!'
The bitter thought burned in Sunny's mind as he surveyed the creature's condition.
The monster was in terrible shape. Half of its eight scythe-like legs were broken, twisted at unnatural angles, and the thick exoskeleton was cracked in several places, leaking viscous azure blood that sizzled on the ground. One of its massive pincer arms was completely missing, torn off entirely at the shoulder, leaving a jagged stump of exposed, mutilated flesh. This thing was a broken shell of what it had once been—a predator in desperate need of food.
Sunny realized he'd been unlucky to stumble right into its lair. It had been hiding, waiting for something easy to snatch, a meal to devour while the others feasted on the giant carcass nearby. But now it had chosen him, the unwitting prey.
He had relied too much on his shadow's scouting, forgetting that it wasn't infallible. It couldn't pick up on every subtle detail of the labyrinth, and it certainly wasn't aware of the monster's trap, buried deep beneath the mud. The shadow was light, weightless, and silent—no wonder the beast hadn't reacted when it passed over the trap just moments earlier.
But Sunny could also consider himself lucky. If the creature had been in peak condition, he would have had no chance of dodging its attack. It was only its crippled state, its slow movements, that gave him the edge.
For now, anyway.
He couldn't afford to dwell on luck. Survival came first.
"Get back here!" he growled, his command to the shadow snapping out as he dashed to the side, cutting his vision in half but doubling his speed.
In an instant, the space he had just occupied was torn apart. The massive pincer crashed into a coral pillar with a deafening crash, sending sharp, crimson shards flying in all directions.
Sunny barely managed to recover his balance, his heart pounding in his chest as the beast closed the distance. Its massive legs tore through the mud with terrifying speed, and the pincer was already in the air again, coming straight for him. The thing was surprisingly agile for its size.
This wasn't going to be easy.
Sunny dove low, narrowly evading the pincer that sliced through the air like a blade, its jagged edges glinting in the dim light.
'I need distance!' The thought rang through his head like a drumbeat, each pulse matching the frantic pounding of his heart.
His legs pumped furiously as he dashed back through the mud, desperate to create some space between himself and the crippled beast. The mud slowed him down, but his momentum carried him forward, dragging the creature through the muck with him.
He didn't have time to think. All he could do was keep moving.
His mind was already running through the memories of his training, of everything he had learned from his mentors, especially Teacher Julius and Jet. His Jet for the opportunity to leverage the knowledge hisfirst nightmare had taught him and Julius had gifted him with powerful Memories that, most legacy woud be jealous of, and those might just save his life.
With a rush of resolve, he remembered the two key gifts that had brought him here: [Twin's Bane] and [A Stubborn Legacy].
The first, a rare charm—[A Stubborn Legacy]—was a painful, irritating charm. When something was struck, it spread a fast-moving fungal infection, not doing much damage but excruciatingly painful,a curse that would annoy the creature more than anything.
And then there was the second, [Twin's Bane]. A powerful third-tier memory ,the Pesh-kabz blade that allowed Sunny to strike once, then choose where, a second strike would hit, up to twelve meters away.
Sunny slashed down, his blade cutting through the air in a sharp, practiced motion. The crab's eye burst under the force, a spray of dark blood splattering across the mud. The fungal infection spread quickly, consuming the monster's body like a creeping disease.
Without wasting a breath, Sunny transitioned into a stabbing motion, his aim true. One of the creature's legs buckled beneath him, the limb giving out in a sickening snap. The pincer monster let out a sharp screech, sinking deeper into the mud. With one final rippling movement, the creature's side gave way, releasing a flood of its insides—a nauseating slurry of blood, bile, and half-digested food.
[You have slain an awakened beast, Carapace Scavenger.]
[You have received a Memory: Azure Blade.]
[ Your shadow grows stronger.]
'*'
Sunny lay sprawled in the mud, struggling to catch his breath as the grim weight of exhaustion settled over him. The subtle, almost imperceptible voice of the Spell echoed in his ears, reverberating like an old melody in the back of his mind.
[Your shadow grows stronger.]
A strange sensation swept through him in response — a fleeting shift that he could almost miss if he weren't so attuned to the intricacies of his body's every subtle change. His muscles felt a fraction stronger, his vision sharper, his skin smoother to the touch. The transformation was minimal, but undeniable.
'What was that?'
He had a guess, and it didn't take long to confirm it. Without hesitation, Sunny summoned the runes.
[Shadow Fragments: 14/1000]
Just moments before, he had only twelve of these enigmatic shadow fragments, with no real understanding of how to acquire more. Now, it seemed the process was automatic — as though his very existence had attuned to some unfathomable rhythm. All he had to do was slay an enemy, and in that moment of death, he would absorb a sliver of their shadow, fortifying his core.
More intriguing still, the number of fragments he could collect didn't seem directly tied to the number of enemies he killed. After mulling it over, Sunny came to a preliminary conclusion: dormant soul cores yielded a single fragment, while awakened cores granted two. Yet, there was a crucial catch. Only the enemies he directly defeated — more or less — counted towards his total.
Killing the Mountain King's Larva, a dormant creature, had earned him one fragment. The same went for the veteran slaver — another dormant soul. But the Mountain King itself was an awakened tyrant, its strength drawn from five awakened cores. With each core offering him two fragments, he had walked away with twelve. And now, after dispatching the Carapace Scavenger, he was up to fourteen.
Interestingly, he had not received any fragments from the deaths of Shifty, Scholar, or Hero, despite their demise being orchestrated by his hand. It seemed that only those he finished off personally — with his own strength, or perhaps with the invocation of an ancient god — would contribute to his growing shadow.
It was an eerie similarity to how normal Awakened would increase their power. The only difference? The steps of extracting and consuming soul shards were bypassed in favor of an instantaneous absorption. This meant that shadow fragments couldn't be stored, bought, or traded. They were his alone to use, fresh and fleeting.
Sunny wasn't one for delusions, but the reality was clear. There would be no easy way to earn fragments through missions, trades, or rewards. His only option, it seemed, was to fight and kill.
'No peaceful life for me, I guess.'
Though he knew that the [Fated] curse had already robbed him of that choice, a small part of him still longed for the luxury of a relatively safe path. Still, there was a silver lining. With the need to use soul shards to enhance his core gone, he was free to spend whatever he earned without concern. Once a shadow fragment was absorbed, the soul shard would remain, ready to be collected and traded for whatever else he might need down the road.
It was a system of double efficiency — a distinct advantage that Sunny couldn't afford to ignore.
'Maybe I could trade them to secure some people for my cohort? I learned he hard way once not to trust bought loyalty, but no trust is necessary just mutual self interest.' he mused, wondering if he could leverage his newfound power to forge alliances.
Then, there was the matter of the Shadow Core. Since both Sunny and his shadow were intrinsically tied to it, strengthening the core would not only amplify his power but would also fortify the shadow's essence. The beauty of this? Every fragment he absorbed would have a dual effect — doubling the benefits, much like an Awakened drawing twice the power from a single soul shard.
'Not bad. Not bad at all.'
It was hard not to be optimistic when he saw the possibilities stretching before him, the future gleaming just out of reach. Of course, that was assuming he survived long enough to see it.
Shaking off the fleeting pangs of doubt, Sunny straightened and turned his attention to the runes inscribed on the weapon gifted by the Spell.
Memory: [Azure Blade].
Memory Rank: Awakened.
Memory Type: Weapon.
Memory Description: [On this forgotten shore, only steel remembers.]
'Huh. Interesting.'
It wasn't a wealth of information, but it was enough to spark his curiosity. Sunny summoned the weapon, and within an instant, a sharp, slender tang dao materialized in his hand. It was around a meter long, the straight blade gleaming in the dim light, its single edge honed to perfection. The azure steel of the weapon was beautiful, its surface patterned with delicate layers, and deep within the steel, faint white sparks danced. The crossguard was minimalistic, little more than a thin guard to protect his hand.
'It's inferior to Twin's Bane,' he thought, a sinking feeling tugging at his spirit. Memories weren't guaranteed, and the obscurity of his first weapon — a weapon that wasn't even particularly special — was demoralizing. He'd hoped for more.
With a deep sigh, he extracted the soul shard from the Scavenger's body and continued his journey, his spirits a little lighter, but far from buoyant.
The day was still young. There was still time to make it to the distant hill before the rising sea could catch up.
But the labyrinth ahead was becoming more and more treacherous. His progress slowed as he grew more vigilant. With each step, the winding paths became increasingly convoluted, and the shifting shadows of the maze seemed to mock his every move. The further he ventured, the harder it became to navigate. Even with the shadow's aid, he found himself frequently retracing his steps, struggling to find the right way.
'Crap, crap, crap…'
If nothing changed, he wouldn't make it in time. The sea would come back, and it would crush him under its relentless tide. Desperation clawed at him, but he refused to let panic take hold. He pushed forward, trying to hurry, but with each step, caution kept him from running too recklessly. A wrong turn would cost him precious minutes, and worse, a missed ambush could end his life in an instant.
'Curses!'
Just as he felt his hope begin to fade, a sudden sensation from his shadow snapped him to attention. Something was ahead — something that made Sunny freeze, his heart skipping a beat.
Through the twisting corridors of coral, the path widened. And in the center of the clearing, a figure stood.
Sunny's breath hitched in his throat.
She was a vision in the gloom.
The first thing that caught his eye was her pale skin — and *how much* of it was exposed. The tall, lithe woman wore nothing but a makeshift skirt and a crude brassiere fashioned from seaweed. Yet, there was no sign of discomfort. With a calm, almost serene expression, she stopped and glanced over her shoulder. The wind tugged at her short silver hair, sending it fluttering behind her like a shroud.
It was Nephis — the Changing Star.
Sunny's hand instinctively went to his cheek, where the phantom pain of old wounds flared up.
In her hand, she held the end of a golden rope.
And at the other end of the rope, tethered as if caught in some inescapable web, was someone who struck Sunny with an unexpected weight. It was Cassie — his friend, his confidant. The blind girl who had spent countless hours talking to him.
'She's here… in this hell with me.'
Grey sky above, black mud below, an endless sea of crimson in between. On this dreamlike backdrop, two beautiful girls were walking across the labyrinth.