Year 336 Post-Collision – Three Years, Three Months Post-Rebirth
The transition from abyss to surface wasn't a gentle rising. It was more like being expelled.
One moment Sunny was floating in the pocket dimension, the pressure of the Leviathan's presence wrapped around him like it had been for three years. The next moment, that presence pushed—not violently, but with finality—and reality shifted.
Space folded. Depth inverted. The concepts of "up" and "down" briefly stopped making sense.
And then Sunny was standing on solid ground for the first time in his second life.
He immediately fell over.
"Fuck," he gasped, catching himself on his hands. The ground was wrong. Too hard. Too flat. Too stable. His body had spent three years adapting to infinite pressure and liquid space. Actual solid earth felt like standing on a lie.
[ARCHIVE ALERT]
[ENVIRONMENTAL PRESSURE: 1 ATMOSPHERE]
[USER BODY CALIBRATION: CONFUSED]
[GRAVITY: NORMAL]
[EXPECTED CRUSHING WEIGHT: ABSENT]
[BALANCE SYSTEMS: RECALIBRATING]
[ESTIMATED ADJUSTMENT TIME: 10-15 MINUTES]
Sunny pushed himself up to his knees, then carefully to his feet. His legs wobbled. Everything felt too light. Like he might float away if he wasn't careful.
He took a breath. The air tasted strange—not wrong, just... full of things. Pollen. Dust. Salt. Not the empty pressure-space of the abyss.
Another breath. Better.
He looked around.
He was on a beach. Black sand stretched in both directions, meeting dark water that lapped against the shore with an almost tentative rhythm. Behind him, the beach gave way to rocky cliffs, and beyond that—
Trees. Actual trees. Green and alive and swaying in wind that Sunny could feel on his skin.
The sky was blue. Not the compressed non-color of the abyss. Actually, genuinely blue, with clouds drifting across it.
Sunny stared up at it and felt something crack in his chest.
I'm outside.
Three years underground. Three years in pressure and darkness and infinite depth. And now—
Sun.
The actual fucking sun, warm on his face.
"Holy shit," Sunny whispered. His voice sounded wrong without the abyss to echo through. "I'm actually here."
[LEVIATHAN PRESENCE: REDUCED]
[CONNECTION: MAINTAINED BUT DISTANT]
[SUSTENANCE LINK: STILL ACTIVE (FOR NOW)]
[HER VOICE: AVAILABLE IF NEEDED]
Sunny reached for the bond, the connection between him and the Leviathan that had been constant for three years. It was still there—he could feel her presence like an anchor somewhere deep below, in the ocean trenches where she ruled—but it was distant now. Muted. Like a radio station just barely in range.
"Can you hear me?" he asked aloud.
No response. Then—a feeling more than words. Yes. But I will not answer often. You must learn to stand alone.
"Great," Sunny muttered. "First day on the surface and I'm already being ghosted by my eldritch mom."
[ARCHIVE CORRECTION]
[SHE'S NOT YOUR MOM]
[SHE'S YOUR—]
"I know, I know. Primordial calamity who claimed me as property. But she raised me for three years and taught me to read, so she's mom-adjacent and I'm calling her that in my head."
[YOUR Emotional Categorization System Is Fascinating And Probably Unhealthy]
"Noted. Now help me figure out where the hell I am."
Sunny looked around more carefully. The beach was deserted. No people, no buildings, no signs of civilization. Just black sand, dark water, cliffs, and forest beyond.
He reached for his Pressure Sense, activating it consciously. Immediately, the world became... different. He could feel the weight of things. The density of the air, the solidity of the ground, the mass of the trees. And—
There. Inland. Maybe two miles away.
People.
Multiple presences. Not hostile, not focused on him, just... existing. A cluster of metaphysical pressure that read as "human-adjacent."
"Settlement," Sunny said. "That way."
[ARCHIVE CONFIRMATION]
[DETECTED: ~37 Human-Level Presences]
[PLUS: 12 Non-Human Presences]
[CLASSIFICATION: LIKELY SMALL VILLAGE OR OUTPOST]
[THREAT LEVEL: UNKNOWN]
[RECOMMENDATION: APPROACH CAUTIOUSLY]
[ALSO: YOU'RE STILL WEARING PRESSURE-CLOTHES]
[THAT MIGHT BE WEIRD]
Sunny looked down at himself. He was wearing the "clothes" the Leviathan had manifested for him—dark tunic and pants that were technically made of solidified pressure-water. They looked normal enough, but...
He touched the fabric. It felt wrong under his fingers. Too smooth. Too uniform. Like cloth that had never been woven.
"This is going to stand out, isn't it?"
[PROBABLY]
[BUT YOU Don't Have Alternatives]
[SO: Proceed And Hope No One Looks Too Closely]
"Story of my life," Sunny muttered. He started walking toward the tree line, his legs slowly adjusting to the concept of "ground" and "gravity" and "not drowning."
The forest was dense and green and loud. Birds. Insects. Wind through leaves. After three years of near-silence broken only by the Leviathan's voice and the sound of pressure shifting, the noise was almost overwhelming.
Sunny pushed forward anyway, using his Pressure Sense to navigate. The cluster of human presences grew stronger as he got closer. He could start to distinguish individuals now—different densities, different... flavors? Some felt heavier, more concentrated. Those would be people with power. Others felt normal, baseline human.
The village appeared through the trees suddenly. A clearing with maybe twenty buildings, all built from dark wood and stone. Practical, sturdy construction. People moved between buildings—humans mostly, but Sunny's Pressure Sense picked up those non-human presences too. Something with four legs. Something with wings. Something that felt... wrong. Hollow.
Undead? Or constructs? Or—
"Hey! Kid!"
Sunny spun around. A man was approaching from one of the buildings—tall, broad-shouldered, wearing leather armor that had seen use. He had a sword at his hip and an expression that was more curious than hostile.
"You lost?" the man asked in what Sunny recognized (thank god) as the common trade language he'd spent a year learning.
Sunny's mind raced. First contact. First conversation with someone who wasn't the Leviathan. First chance to establish his cover story.
"Yes," Sunny said carefully, keeping his voice small and uncertain. Easy to do—he looked nine years old and had never interacted with surface dwellers. "I... was traveling with my family. We got separated."
The man's expression shifted to concern. "Separated? Where? When?"
"Near the coast," Sunny said, gesturing vaguely behind him. "A few days ago. There was a storm. I washed up on the beach."
It was a simple story. Believable. Storm separations happened. Lost kids happened. The man seemed to accept it.
"A few days and you're still walking around?" The man looked Sunny up and down. "You're either lucky or tougher than you look. What's your name, kid?"
"Sunny," he said immediately. Not Rajah. Never Rajah. Just Sunny. "I'm... I'm just Sunny."
"Just Sunny, huh?" The man smiled slightly. "I'm Marcus. This is Blackshore Village. Small place, but we've got food and shelter." He gestured toward the buildings. "Come on. Let's get you checked out, make sure you're not hurt. Then we'll figure out what to do about your family."
Sunny followed, his Pressure Sense active, his nerves singing with tension. This was it. First test. First attempt to blend in with normal society.
Try not to immediately reveal you're an illegal heresy against reality, he thought.
[ARCHIVE RESPONSE]
[NO PROMISES]
The village was... rustic. That was the polite word. "Poor" was probably more accurate. The buildings were functional but worn. The people looked tired but not starving. It had the feeling of a settlement that was surviving, not thriving.
Marcus led him to a larger building near the center—some kind of communal hall. Inside, several people looked up as they entered. Sunny's Pressure Sense immediately cataloged them:
Woman, mid-30s, heavy presence → Magic user. Some kind of healer or support caster. Man, elderly, moderate presence → Experienced but declining. Ex-adventurer? Girl, teenage, light presence → Normal human, no power. Thing in the corner, hollow presence → Definitely undead. Or a construct. It was standing very still and not breathing.
"Found a lost kid on the forest path," Marcus announced. "Says his name's Sunny. Got separated from his family in a storm."
The woman stood up immediately. She was wearing robes that marked her as some kind of official—village elder? Healer? Both?
"A storm?" she asked. "When? We haven't had weather that bad in weeks."
Shit.
"Uh," Sunny said, thinking fast. "It was... further down the coast? I've been walking for a while. Lost track of time."
The woman studied him with eyes that were too knowing. She stepped closer, and Sunny felt her presence press against him slightly—not hostile, but testing. Reading.
"You're not hurt," she observed. "Not malnourished. Your clothes are intact." Her eyes narrowed. "For someone who's been 'walking for days' after a shipwreck, you're remarkably well-preserved."
[ARCHIVE ALERT]
[SHE'S SUSPICIOUS]
[COVER STORY FAILING]
[RECOMMEND: PARTIAL TRUTH]
Sunny made a split-second decision. Lying completely wasn't working. Time to blend truth and fiction.
"I'm tougher than I look," he said quietly. "My... my family wasn't normal. I'm not normal. I have some abilities. Enough to survive."
That got everyone's attention. The woman's expression sharpened.
"Abilities," she repeated. "What kind?"
"Enhanced durability," Sunny said, which was true. "Danger sense. Minor regeneration. I'm..." He hesitated. "My family called it a blessing. I just call it lucky."
Marcus leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "A blessing from what? Which god?"
Primordial ocean calamity that ate seventeen editors wasn't an option.
"They never said," Sunny lied. "Just that I was claimed. Protected. As long as I'm careful."
The woman exchanged a look with Marcus. Some kind of silent communication.
"A claimed child," she said slowly. "Without a patron name. Interesting." She circled him slowly, still reading his presence. "You have... unusual weight for someone your age. And your presence is dense. Like you've been under pressure for a long time."
Too perceptive. Way too perceptive.
"I grew up near the deep ocean," Sunny said, which was technically true. "Does that... affect things?"
"It shouldn't," the woman said. But she didn't pursue it. Instead, she stepped back. "My name is Elena. I'm the village healer and magistrate. This is Marcus, our guard captain. If you're going to stay here while we look for your family, you'll follow our rules. Understood?"
"Understood," Sunny said immediately.
"Good." Elena gestured to the teenage girl. "Nina, get him some proper food. Real food, not trail rations." Then back to Sunny: "When was the last time you ate?"
Sunny opened his mouth to answer, then realized—
Oh fuck.
[ARCHIVE ALERT]
[YOU HAVEN'T EATEN IN THREE YEARS]
[YOU DON'T KNOW HOW]
[THIS IS GOING TO BE OBVIOUS]
"I... uh..." Sunny's mind raced. "I've been surviving on... fish? From the coast. And... water."
"For days?" Elena's eyebrow raised. "You must be starving. Nina, get him soup. Something gentle."
Nina nodded and hurried to what looked like a kitchen area. Sunny stood there, panic rising, trying to figure out how to eat food when his body had been sustained by the Leviathan's presence for three years.
Archive, can I even digest normal food right now?
[CHECKING...]
[GOOD NEWS: Your Demigod Physique Should Handle It]
[BAD NEWS: Your Digestive System Is Completely Unused]
[PREDICTION: This Will Be Uncomfortable]
[EAT SLOWLY]
Nina returned with a bowl of soup—something dark and hearty-smelling. She set it in front of Sunny with a spoon.
Everyone was watching him.
Sunny picked up the spoon, dipped it in the soup, and took his first bite of food in three years.
It tasted like everything. Salt, vegetables, meat, spices—his taste buds had never processed actual food before in this life. The sensation was overwhelming.
He swallowed.
His stomach cramped immediately.
[TOLD YOU]
Sunny kept his face neutral through sheer force of will, took another spoonful, swallowed again. His body was confused. It wanted to reject the food and accept it simultaneously.
"You okay?" Marcus asked.
"Fine," Sunny said through gritted teeth. "Just... not used to hot food. Been eating cold fish."
Another spoonful. Another cramp. This was torture.
But he kept eating, because stopping would raise more questions.
Elena watched him carefully. "You can slow down. No one's taking it from you."
Sunny nodded and deliberately slowed his pace. His demigod constitution was kicking in, adapting, figuring out how to process this. By the time he finished the bowl, his stomach had stopped actively rebelling.
"Better?" Elena asked.
"Yeah," Sunny said. "Thanks."
She studied him a moment longer, then nodded. "We'll set you up in the common house for tonight. Tomorrow, we'll send word to the coastal settlements, see if anyone's looking for a lost boy named Sunny." Her tone suggested she didn't expect results. "In the meantime, stay close to the village. Don't wander. This forest isn't safe."
"What's out there?" Sunny asked.
"Monsters," Marcus said flatly. "Dungeon overflow. Sometimes worse. We're close to a rift zone—places where the old worlds didn't merge cleanly. Things come through. Bad things."
[ARCHIVE NOTATION]
[RIFT ZONE = REALITY TEAR]
[MONSTERS = PROBABLY VARIED]
[THIS AREA IS DANGEROUS]
[YOU'RE IN The Right Place]
Sunny nodded. "I'll stay close."
"Good." Elena gestured to Nina. "Show him where he'll sleep. And Sunny?" She fixed him with that too-knowing look. "Whatever you really are, whatever really happened to you—I don't need to know. But if you bring trouble to this village, claimed or not, I will handle it. Clear?"
"Clear," Sunny said.
Nina led him out of the hall and across to a smaller building—the "common house," apparently, where travelers and refugees stayed. It was sparse but clean. A few beds, some storage, a small fireplace.
"You can take that one," Nina said, pointing to a bed in the corner. "We don't get many visitors, so you'll probably have the place to yourself."
"Thanks," Sunny said.
Nina lingered by the door. "You're really claimed? Like, by a god?"
"Something like that," Sunny said carefully.
"What's it like?"
Sunny thought about the Leviathan. About being drowned 1,095 times. About having his bones shattered and rebuilt. About learning to synthesize the impossible while reality tried to delete him.
"Heavy," he said finally. "It's heavy."
Nina nodded like that made sense, then left.
Sunny sat on the bed—which was weird, because beds weren't liquid pressure-space—and let himself breathe.
First day on the surface. First contact with humans. First test of his cover story.
He'd passed. Barely. But he'd passed.
[ARCHIVE DAY ONE SUMMARY]
[LOCATION: BLACKSHORE VILLAGE]
[COVER STORY: PARTIALLY BELIEVED]
[SUSPICION LEVEL: MODERATE]
[FOOD CONSUMED: 1 BOWL (TRAUMATIC)]
[CONTINUITY DEBT: 36.6% (STABLE)]
[LEVIATHAN DISTANCE: PRESENT BUT QUIET]
[NEW OBJECTIVES:]
[- MAINTAIN COVER]
[- LEARN ABOUT SURFACE WORLD]
[- FIGURE OUT HOW TO EAT WITHOUT DYING]
[- DON'T DO ANYTHING OBVIOUSLY ILLEGAL]
[STATUS: SURVIVED FIRST DAY]
Sunny lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Somewhere deep below, he could feel the Leviathan's presence like an anchor in dark water.
I'm here, he thought toward that connection. I made it.
A feeling returned. Not words. Just... acknowledgment. Pride, maybe. Or hunger.
With her, it was always hard to tell.
Sunny closed his eyes and let his demigod body rest, adapting to solid ground and normal gravity and the weight of pretending to be a normal lost kid.
Tomorrow, he'd learn more about this village. About the rift zones. About the world he was now part of.
Tonight, he just needed to survive being here.
One day down.
Everything else still ahead.
[END CHAPTER 9]
[LOCATION: BLACKSHORE VILLAGE]
[POPULATION: 37 HUMANS, 12 NON-HUMANS]
[THREAT LEVEL: UNKNOWN]
[COVER IDENTITY: ESTABLISHED (FRAGILE)]
[NEXT CHAPTER: INTEGRATION]
[STATUS: ON THE SURFACE, SLIGHTLY SUSPICIOUS, STOMACH HURTS]