Sunny snapped his fingers directly in front of March's face.
Once. Twice. Three times.
There was no reaction. Her eyes remained unfocused, pupils fixed somewhere far beyond the platform, posture loose in a way that was almost unsettling. Welt stood beside her in much the same state, hands folded behind his back, expression calm and vacant, as though he were politely waiting for a conversation that would never arrive.
Sunny yawned.
He snapped again, louder this time, the sound cracking sharply in the open air. Still nothing.
"Wow. She really didn't skimp on this one."
He leaned closer to Welt, snapping his fingers just short of the man's nose. Welt did not even blink.
Sunny straightened, stretching his arms over his head before letting them fall back to his sides. Kafka was already gone, the platform abandoned, the world very clearly unraveling in the background, and here he was playing caretaker to two hypnotized companions. The irony wasn't lost on him. If he were anyone else, he might have been annoyed.
…Actually, he was mildly annoyed, but that wasn't the point!
Instead, he snapped again.
Out of the corner of his eye, something caught his attention.
Tingyun stood several meters away, closer to the edge of the platform, her posture rigid with excitement. Her tail flicked faintly behind her, ears angled forward, eyes locked onto the Ambrosial Arbor as it continued to grow. The green fire crawling along its bark illuminated her face, reflecting in her pupils with a reverent intensity that made Sunny's mouth thin.
She wasn't dazed.
She wasn't confused.
She was enraptured.
Sunny scowled and snapped his fingers again, harder than before, the sound echoing faintly across the platform. March finally stirred, her brows knitting together as she raised a hand to shield her eyes.
"Ugh… what…?"
She blinked a few times, focus returning slowly as she looked around. Her gaze passed over Sunny, then the empty space where Kafka had been, then the skyward-reaching Arbor.
Sunny didn't miss the way her breath hitched for just a moment.
"There you are. Took you long enough."
March winced, rubbing her temple.
"Why does my head feel like I just binged three seasons of a drama I don't remember watching?"
Sunny shrugged.
"Mind attack. You lost."
Her head snapped up.
"What?"
"Kafka, put you under. Pretty clean, honestly."
March frowned, clearly trying to piece something together.
"I… we were talking to her, right? I remember being annoyed. And then… nothing."
She shook her head.
"There's like a hole there. I know something's missing, but I can't tell what."
Sunny's eyes widened just slightly.
So she had blocked out the memories of their conversation. Sunny doubted she could completely erase them.
Like how the memories he couldn't recall weren't erased, but felt conditionally blocked. Although it was inconvenient, it could certainly be worse.
He looked at March for a long moment, then away.
"That's probably intentional. I don't think you should worry about it."
March narrowed her eyes.
"How am I supposed to not worry about?!"
"Dunno. Just don't."
She opened her mouth to argue, then paused, rubbing her temple again.
"I've been getting someone's memories since we got on this stupid ship. They're always floating around and passing through walls, or getting a bunch of people to kill each other. And they keep thinking about 'My Lord this' or 'My Lord that'. Talk about creepy."
March sent him a piercing look.
"You can't pass through walls, right?"
Sunny tilted his head.
"I… don't think so? Kind of sounds like a ghost, don't you think?"
March blinked at him.
"Yeah. That's… actually a good way to put it. It doesn't feel alive. Just… leftover."
Sunny hummed quietly, filing that away for later. March's Flaw would certainly be a boon for anyone else, but she must have found the ability to peek into the personal lives of others as disgusting and vile. Her own memories before joining th Express were completely absent, after all.
Sunny's chest twinged a bit.
His attention shifted back to Welt, who remained motionless.
Sunny snapped his fingers again, directly in front of the man's eyes.
Nothing.
"Huh. Guess you're still out."
March followed his gaze.
"Is he okay?"
"Physically? Yeah. Mentally? Debatable."
Sunny studied Welt more closely now, Shadow Sense brushing lightly against the man's outline. There was no Soul Core. There never had been. At least, not one he could see. Welt had always felt… different. Heavy, in a way that didn't match his apparent humanity. Even his shadow felt deeper than most. Sunny had assumed there was something buried within, something dormant, waiting to be awakened.
Apparently not.
Maybe Sunny was wrong.
He often was.
Sunny turned his attention back to Tingyun.
She hadn't moved. Her gaze was still locked on the Ambrosial Arbor, lips parted slightly, breath shallow. The green fire painted her in shifting light, making her look almost unreal.
"What's she doing?"
March asked quietly.
Sunny followed the direction of her eyes and frowned.
"Staring at a tree, apparently. Not something I'm unfamiliar with, you know? Been there once or twice."
"…I didn't ask."
"…Damn."
He wanted to escalate this into a full-blown argument — because why not? — but he was quickly distracted by the stirring in his chest. A thrum that threatened to consume him and leave nothing left.
…The Stellaron.
…Or two.
Sunny's expression darkened.
'You've got to be kidding me.'
He pressed a hand lightly against his sternum, feeling the heat thrum beneath his skin. The sensation wasn't violent. It wasn't painful. It was almost… responsive. Like something waking up in answer to a call.
His gaze snapped back to the Ambrosial Arbor.
The pieces slid together with uncomfortable ease.
Sunny wasn't entirely sure how it worked. He didn't understand the mechanics, the principles, or the theoretical framework behind Stellaron energy interacting with Paths and Aspects. He barely understood normal science on a good day. But Destruction and Abundance were opposites. One ended things. The other refused to let them end.
So how were they feeding each other?
Had he misunderstood something fundamental?
Or was the Stellaron simply forcing a contradiction into existence, the way it always did?
Sunny exhaled slowly, eyes narrowing as he watched the Arbor pulse again, its growth accelerating. Life without restraint. Growth without death. It was wrong in a way that went deeper than logic.
He took a step forward.
The world tilted.
A wave of drowsiness crashed into him without warning, heavy and sudden. Sunny staggered, catching himself before he could fall, vision blurring at the edges. The sensation was familiar enough to make his stomach drop.
March looked at him sharply.
"Sunny?"
He ignored her, blinking hard as his eyelids grew heavier by the second. The warmth in his chest flared once more, then settled, as if amused.
His thoughts slowed.
This wasn't normal exhaustion. This wasn't the aftermath of a fight or mental strain. This was the same damned feeling he had lived with before the Second Nightmare.
Narcolepsy.
But that wasn't possible.
He had Ascended. All the imperfections should have been purged. Even cripples would obtain new bodies that reflected their soul.
Sunny's knees buckled slightly as his vision dimmed.
In the last clear moment before his eyes closed, absolute shock cutting through the haze, one thought rang louder than the rest.
Why wasn't it cured?