"I did... son."
"I'm no son of yours," Sunny retorted angrily.
The grin widened even further, the pearly teeth shining faintly under the light of the lamps.
"Oh?" the shadow said, its voice deep and filled with amusement. "Are you not a shadow cast by my own? Did you not offer yourself in sacrifice? Did you not accept my blessing? Don't you carry a piece of my lineage, defiled as it might be by that Daemon?" The shadow shook its head just like a disappointed parent would. "You are my son, just like every shadow in this world and any other is."
Sunny narrowed his eyes, anger smoldering in his chest as he stared at the all-too-amused shadow. "Yes, to all of those questions."
The shadow rose, looming over him like a man over an ant. "Why would you deny who you are, then?"
"I already have a father," he answered through gritted teeth.
The shadow chuckled, the sound reverberating ominously across the room. "You would choose some nobody over me?"
"Yes," he replied without hesitation.
The shadow chuckled once more, then it devolved into full-blown laughter, the shadowy chest of the god before him rippling from the effort.
"Ah," it sighed dramatically, "what an unfilial son I have. Fitting, for an existence as blasphemous as yours."
"What do you mean?" he asked.
The shadow stared at him silently. "You didn't notice?"
"Notice what?"
The grin returned, full of mischievousness. "You hold within you my lineage and that of the Demon of Fate. You didn't think there would be no consequences, did you?"
"Both sides reject me, and my existence is an affront to reality itself." Sunny snorted faintly. "Nothing new there."
The shadow shook its head, something akin to wonder passing briefly through its eyes. "To think I would meet someone who would take such a thing lightly."
He exhaled slowly to stave off the irritation that was starting to build up. "Can you stop acting mysterious and tell me what it is instead?"
"Do you know about the Nephilim?"
Silver flashed through his eyes for a moment. "I do."
The grin widened, a half-moon of pearly teeth that made him feel like he was about to be on the receiving end of bad news. "You, my son, are something far, far worse."
He was not impressed. "Wow," he said in the most deadpan voice he could conjure. "That explains... nothing."
The shadow laughed and did not make any further comment.
Sunny did not find it funny.
Then he recalled something the shadow had said. The realization hit him, and his heart started pounding madly. "You are... you are aware?"
"That I, along with this world, am not real?" it asked lightly.
"Yes."
"Weaver's Spell is quite impressive," it said, black eyes roaming around the room with detached interest. "It has even managed to create a copy of me, pale and fragile as it might be." Its eyes landed on him, cold and piercing. "It is not, however, omnipotent. Of course I'm aware, son. Just like I am aware of how the war between the Daemons and my siblings will end. Of my own end." Its eyes shone sinisterly. "And of course, of who you are."
Its eyes grew darker still. They resembled an endless pit now, an abyss from which nothing that entered could ever come back. "And the role you will play not too far into the future."
A chuckle followed, low and sinister.
Sunny swallowed, finding his throat very dry all of a sudden. "Tell me, then."
The shadow lifted one finger and wagged it admonishingly. "Do not be so hasty to reach the end, my son. There is still much to unfold before you may concern yourself with that."
"Why mention it, then? Just to mock me?"
The grin widened. "Yes."
His teeth ground together. "I understand why Eirene hates you now."
The shadow grew quiet. For a moment, something that could be confused for mourning passed through its dark eyes before disappearing as quickly as it had appeared.
"Ah, my dear Eirene. I remember her, so full of life, of hopes and dreams." The voice became wistful, distant, as if remembering a time long gone. "I also remember the way they were ground down, one by one, until none were left." Its eyes lowered, staring at her cooling corpse. "What a pity that she had to end like this."
Silence ensued for a moment. One that Sunny was almost convinced the shadow would break with a laugh and then mock him for thinking it cared enough to mourn the death of its daughter. When no such thing happened, anger like he had only felt on a few occasions surged within him.
"If you lament it so much, then why do nothing?" he asked, glaring at it. "Spell, why didn't you in this very Nightmare? If you are as aware as you pretend to be, then why do nothing?"
A silent pressure landed on his shoulders, so tyrannical and absolute that for a moment he feared he would be completely crushed under it. The shadows around the room grew deeper, darker, and a hunger like no other emanated from them. His own shuddered at the sight, coiling around him. Not to offer strength, but to run away from the shadow's might.
Moments later, the pressure was gone, but the cold it left behind did not dissipate in the slightest. The shadows around the room calmed too, their forms slowly settling until they became just as inert as they had been moments before.
"Do not dare pretend to understand my reasons," the shadow hissed. The words made the world quake, space and time themselves trembling in fear.
Instead of backing down, Sunny glared harder. "Or what? Will you kill me? Abandon me just like you did with her?"
The shadow lingered for a moment, staring intensely at him before its form relaxed. A faint chuckle followed right after. "You really are my son."
"I am no son of yours," he hissed angrily, offended by the mere idea, both in his real father's name and his own.
The shadow shook its head once more in open disappointment. "I am older than time will ever be. I am vaster than space can ever grow. I was there the first time someone drew breath, and when the last does, I will be there too. The shadow I cast can engulf all of existence if that is my will. I was the last to be born among the Gods, and so I was the last to fall. Even in the pale slumber of your time, my will still lingers, keeping the void from devouring existence whole." Its voice grew lower, sharper, like a blade being unsheathed. "You are my son, just like every shadow in this world is, like every being who has ever lived will be in the end. That, my son, is the mercy of shadows."
Sunny tilted his head, staring at the God before him with nothing but contempt. "Where was that mercy when your daughter needed it? When this very realm did? What were you doing? What was Storm doing? Or all the other gods?"
The shadow lingered for a moment, staring at him coldly before its lips arched. The contrast of its pearly teeth against the backdrop of shadows that formed its face made for a ghastly image.
"Have you ever wondered what the objective of that man, Auro, was?"
"I did," he admitted, eyes narrowing at the sudden change of topic.
"Instigating a war between us Gods and the Daemons," it said lightly, as if speaking about the weather instead.
Sunny's blood ran cold at the revelation.
"It all began with the corruption of Storm's descendants, but that was merely setting the stage." The shadow almost seemed... impressed. "My dear daughter took command of the city and ruled in their stead. Little more than a century and a half later, a pawn of his revealed a piece of knowledge to her that caused this whole debacle. After that, it became all but inevitable."
"How did that cause the war?"
He was already regretting giving Auro such a quick, painless death back in the second dream.
The shadow grinned. "Do you want to tell him?"
He frowned in confusion. The question wasn't directed at him -his flaw would have flared if it had been- but they were alone in the room.
No sooner had he thought it than someone appeared right at the edge of his perception. It was... the hazy woman. The one who had destroyed the city in the vision.
When? How?
A chilling realization settled in his chest. She had been there all along, from the very beginning. He had simply forgotten that she was.
"Did you have to ruin my dramatic entrance?" the woman complained lightly. "I had it all planned out."
The shadow chuckled, completely unrepentant. "I'm afraid patience isn't among my many virtues."
"I am yet to see any of them," she commented idly.
The banter was as casual as it was surreal for Sunny. The sudden mood swing was so jarring it almost left him dizzy.
She turned toward him, or at least he thought she did; it was hard to tell with that haze enveloping her. "You may call me Oblivion, dear cousin. Then again, maybe nephew would be more appropriate, since you hold more of Weaver." She tilted her head in apparent thought, or so he suspected. "The family tree grows more confusing by the moment."
What was it with these godly figures and claiming him as family!?
"As for the topic at hand." Oblivion shrugged nonchalantly. "Not much to tell. I was close enough to feel the echoes of a Sacred being corrupted, as well as her whole domain. It only made sense to cut the rot at the root before it had time to spread."
That nonchalance... thousands of lives there one moment, and gone the next. Oblivion had killed thousands upon thousands and seemed no more affected by that fact than if she had crushed an ant beneath her heel.
It was a sharp reminder, one that Sunny did not ignore.
It didn't matter how casually they acted. Theirs was an existence so far removed from everything he knew that it was impossible to truly grasp just how alien they were.
Oblivion could have erased the entire realm, and Sunny suspected the only thing she would feel was annoyance at the inconvenience.
"The shadow I had watching over my daughter perished too," Shadow commented in a carefully even tone, uncaring of the fright Oblivion had inflicted on him. "So I came here to see what happened."
Sunny blinked, realizing at last whose body he was inhabiting, as well as why he looked like himself. His own shadows could take any shape, so it wasn't a stretch to think that Shadow's could too. He almost laughed. It turned out that Eirene was right, he really was one of his.
Oblivion's haze writhed for a moment, anger bleeding through before it stopped as if nothing had happened. "The fool refused to listen to reason and attacked me."
The shadow did not seem cowed by the accusation. "Nether invaded Storm's realm not too long ago. Is it that hard to believe that you were doing the same, only, starting by attacking my children instead?"
If its intention was to calm her, the result was the opposite. "I tried to explain that she was corrupted, you fool!"
For a single, breathless moment, their wills clashed and the world bent. Time lost meaning. Space lost meaning. Light, sound, everything lost it soon after. Impossibly, a loud ringing wail could be heard, one that Sunny realized with abject horror belonged to the realm itself.
It was screaming in pain.
A fraction of a fraction of a second. That was how long the clash had lasted for him. He had the suspicion that if it had lasted just another fraction, the realm would have burst like a balloon, unable to withstand their confrontation.
Sunny himself had only survived because both of them spared enough thought to erect a barrier around him.
The shadow's grin disappeared, and its eyes were colder than ever. "A good excuse for someone looking to strike at me and my children without retaliation."
Oblivion's haze writhed violently. "Even now, you refuse to admit to any fault." Her voice grew murderous. "I should have aided Nether in his war against Storm when he asked."
A low chuckle was her answer. "And so, we would all die much sooner," it said, grinning once again. "Neither my siblings nor yours would have stayed idle on such an occasion."
Once more, their wills collided, but this time it was far shorter and less catastrophic. There was no love lost between the two of them, but they understood that fighting here would be pointless.
Oblivion exhaled slowly, and the haze covering her began to settle. Then she turned to stare at him once more. Sunny, for his part, had been trying to exist as quietly as possible, lest he be included in the argument.
He had zero interest or intention of getting in between the family drama of two Divine Titans.
Oblivion took a deep breath, and the haze became placid once more. "As you can see, there was already plenty of tension between us." She glared -or he thought she did- at Shadow. "You could probably hear the echoes of Storm and Nether's love spat if you were a little stronger." Amusement colored her voice for a moment.
"I still do," Shadow quipped.
Acting as though she heard nothing, she continued. "But after this? After Shadow killed me for doing what every divine ought to?" She shook her head somberly, something that Shadow echoed a second later. "War became inevitable."
"And thus, his awakening," Shadow added, and maybe it was Sunny's imagination, but its voice sounded... afraid.
"And thus, his awakening," Oblivion echoed, her voice just as filled with trepidation.
Shadow's head hung low, something akin to mourning appearing in its expression. "You asked before the reason for our inaction. Well, this is the reason." It shook its head ruefully. "We stepped back from reality, from interacting with our children, built walls around our hearts so that we could remain cold and impartial. All so that we would never have a reason to fight each other or the Daemons."
The grin returned, wide enough to become grotesque. "I failed."
"And everyone paid the price for it," Sunny muttered.
"Indeed," Oblivion agreed, her voice dripping with bitterness.
"What a damn mess."
Sunny paled the moment the words came out. His habit of speaking aloud had betrayed him at last.
"Indeed," Oblivion agreed once more, amusement clear in her voice.
Shadow snorted. "Enough about this topic. Let's get to what I intended to do here."
Before he could open his mouth to inquire what that was -before he could finish processing the words, before he could breathe, before he could think, before he could do anything at all- a terrible pain surged in his chest.
Sunny fell to his knees. The pain was horrible, easily among the worst he had ever felt. Like a hand had plunged straight into his chest and was now searching for something.
His mouth opened to scream—
-------------------------------------------
He blinked, wondering when he had moved. Or, more accurately, when any of them had.
Oblivion was staring at Shadow, the haze pulsing slightly in what he assumed was reproach. Shadow, for its part, did not seem concerned, a grin painted on its face.
"That will be all from my side," it spoke in a casual, easy tone.
"So it is from mine," she replied, her voice sounding oddly... guilty.
Shadow clapped its hands, a sound that reverberated all across the room.
[-ver]
The Spell's voice returned as if it had never stopped speaking.
Around them, the world started to shake, the air itself seeming to ripple as the Nightmare slowly became undone.
"One last piece of advice, son..." Shadow started.
"Become as famous as possible," Oblivion finished.
Just like that, they dissapeared. Gone like they had never been there at all.
The throne room began to fracture right after they disappeared.
Cracks of pale light split the air. The marble floor started dissolving into drifting motes. The replicated throne, the lamps, the towering walls of Nether's creation, all of them unraveled like a tapestry being pulled apart thread by thread.
Sunny remained kneeling where Eirene's body had been.
Only, there was no body anymore.
She had already faded, dissolving into dark sparks the moment the Spell resumed speaking. All that remained was the faint warmth of her lips against his, of her fingers brushing against his.
"You can rest now, Eirene. Your nightmare is over." He smiled faintly, disbelief clear in his face. "And so is mine."
He stepped away from the room, leaving it behind. Step by step, he descended the tower, the pressure nowhere to be found. More runes lit up as he went, but he couldn't find it in himself to care enough to read them.
"Become as famous as possible." He let out a hoarse laugh, his eyes growing colder. "What are the two of you and Weaver scheming?"
-------------------------------------------
He stood once more on the plaza of Aleras.
The silver barrier over the walls flickered like a dying star before collapsing into nothing. The nightmare creatures stirred from their slumber, maddened eyes opening to gaze upon a world that was nothing like the one they had fallen asleep in. They too flickered and collapsed, turning into dust.
The tower behind him groaned, as if suddenly unable to hold its own weight. It started tilting, and before long it crashed to the ground, raising a sea of dust that dissolved soon after.
Sunny turned slowly, taking in the city one last time.
The crumbling spires. The broken streets. The melted stone and scarred marble. The empty windows that would never again reflect the light of thousands of lanterns.
Aleras.
For weeks -lifetimes- it had been his home.
He had walked these streets as an Awakened, a Transcendent, an Ascended, as Sacred, and Supreme. As something lesser and something greater. He had ruled it. Defended it. Failed it. Loved it.
He had been happy here.
He had lived countless lies and loved each and every one of them.
His gaze drifted toward the central avenue where, in one dream, he had walked beneath fluttering banners beside Eirene, their shoulders brushing in comfortable silence. He could almost hear her laughter echoing between the buildings.
Another memory surfaced, a quiet one, this time. A small garden behind the tower. A stone bench beneath a red-leafed tree. Moonlight spilling over her hair while she spoke about impossible futures with reckless conviction.
No pain. No hunger. No fear. No lonely children crying in the dark.
He closed his eyes in silent mourning.
It had all been false.
Crafted by the Spell. Twisted by Fate. Sustained by a goddess who had forgotten her own name.
And yet…
The warmth in those moments had been real.
The way she had looked at him.
The way she had smiled, even when the cracks were already spreading beneath her skin.
The way she had kissed him -not as the Lady of Sorrows- but as Eirene.
Sunny exhaled slowly. All of it had been real.
"I'll miss it," he admitted to the empty plaza.
The words surprised him with how heavy they felt.
He would miss the illusion of belonging.
He would miss the version of himself who could wake up in a quiet room overlooking Aleras and believe, even for a second, that he had a place to return to.
He would miss the dreams in which he was not fighting against the world, but building something within it.
He would even miss ruling the damn city, as surreal as the thought sounded.
Aleras had been many things. A battlefield. A cage. A lie.
But it had also been just what he needed. What he had needed all along.
Through the lies, through the lifetimes he had lived, Sunny finally found his answer, what he wanted more than anything else.
"I want to live," he whispered. Then, finding it wholly insufficient, he shouted it at the top of his lungs. "I WANT TO LIVE!"
He walked slowly through the ruined plaza, boots crunching over stone that was already dissipating.
A smile found its way to his lips. After such a long time... he was going back to the Waking World.
Sunny pinched himself, just to be sure that he was not dreaming.
He wasn't.
Laughter erupted out of him once more, and he kept walking, pausing only at the edge of the plaza, where he turned around and looked one final time.
In his mind, he saw it whole.
The towers were restored, standing proud and tall, a silent proclamation of the city's dauntless will.
The streets were alive. Myriad citizens walked through them, smiling, chatting, children playing.
Erelia was there, taking a leisurely walk with her husband. Ascended Dismas was there too, shouting at some hapless student. He spotted Vaelkar and Liriel, laughing about something he couldn't hear. He also saw Reynauld and Joachim, as well as many more.
Coming last, he saw her.
Eirene, standing at the highest balcony, wind playing with her hair as she pretended not to search for him in the crowd below. Then she looked at him and smiled, her arm raised in a mock salute. Her lips moved, saying something he didn't quite catch.
Sunny allowed himself to linger on that image. Just once.
Then he let it go, the smile never leaving his face.
"You greedy woman," he murmured softly. "Even now, you made me want it."
The Spell's voice resonated one final time.
[Your nightmare is over.]
[Prepare for appraisal…]
-------------------------------------------
His eyes opened inside a pod.
For a long moment, he did not move.
He simply stared at the glass door before him in disbelief. He expected to blink and watch it disappear, replaced by endless rain. He expected to catch silver tendrils dancing at the edge of his sight. He expected many things.
None came.
Slowly -almost fearfully- Sunny's gaze drifted around the room. There were more pods scattered through the chamber, silent and unoccupied. One stood directly in front of his, close enough that he could see the faint marks left by its use. Between them sat a single chair. It looked recently used.
His heart hammered in his chest.
His recently enhanced senses had to be playing a prank on him, or maybe it was a remnant of the many dreams he had faced.
And yet…
He could swear there was a single strand of silver hair resting on the seat.
His breath hitched, and his heart beat even louder.
Impatient -desperate- he shoved at the glass door, intending only to hurry it along.
The metal tore free with a loud screech.
The door ripped off its hinges as though made of paper and shot across the room, slamming into the opposite pod with a thunderous crash that shook the chamber.
Sunny flinched, the sound reverberating through him as though he had been the one to receive the blow.
Right.
He was a Saint now. He would have to be very careful with how he handled things from now on.
He stared at the twisted metal, at the cracked pod before him, and at the shards embedded in the walls.
That was going to cost a lot to repair.
The absurdity of the thought grounded him more than anything else could have. He shook his head faintly, already mourning the money he would lose, and climbed out of the pod.
"Where am I?" he murmured.
This wasn't the Academy. It looked nothing like the room where he had gone to sleep three years ago. Three endless, harrowing years ago.
Three years inside hell.
He still had a hard time believing that this was real.
Idly, he tugged at his clothes. They were made of fabric. That in itself wasn't unusual, but after so long encased in armor, it felt unbearably soft. Fragile. It brushed against him like something alien, bringing with it an itch that was slowly driving him mad.
He flexed his fingers, tugging at the fabric in an attempt to loosen it a little.
The clothes tore apart in his hands as though they were made of paper.
Sunny stared down at the ruined remains.
Another expense.
A strangled huff of laughter escaped him before he could stop it.
"Thank the dead gods nobody is here to see this," he muttered.
The words had barely left his lips when something struck him like a physical blow.
Shadows.
There were hundreds of shadows above him.
They poured into his awareness all at once. For a heartbeat, he almost staggered under the flood of information. The range of his shadow sense had increased massively after transcending, and he was nearly overwhelmed.
Or he would have been, had it not been for [Mind Weave]. His mind was too vast to buckle under such a lowly challenge anymore.
Soon enough, he adjusted and made an estimate of what was up there.
Two Saints. A hundred Masters. Far more Awakened. Capped by what he believed were the echoes of nightmare creatures.
They had been fighting up until this very moment, and had only just stopped.
That was what had drawn his attention.
He considered going up. To see what was happening, to assess the danger that such a mighty force had been contending with.
The shadows responded before the decision fully formed. The mere thought was enough for them to envelop him and transport him elsewhere.
One instant he stood in the broken remains of the pod chamber. The next, he was above ground.
Cold air brushed against his bare skin. It carried the smell of smoke, of fuel, and so many other things he had started to think he would never smell again.
He appeared between two opposing groups.
On his right stood a black-haired woman with vermilion eyes, poised and dangerous. The two Saints he had sensed flanked her, their presence strong and menacing. All three had frozen the moment he manifested between them.
Sunny did not look at them.
On his left stood Masters and Awakened in battered armor. People he belatedly recognized as part of the army that had stormed the Crimson Spire. Their weapons were half-raised, knuckles white, breaths shallow. Many of them were wounded. Wounds made by human weapons.
At the front, they stood.
Effie. Kai. Cassie.
The sight alone almost made him cry.
They were flanking someone.
Someone who had haunted his every waking moment, and most of his dreams too.
Nephis.
She stood there, encased in dark armor that had seen better days, a curved sword dripping blood in her hand. There was blood on her face too, cuts that were already mending themselves, banished by the white radiance of her flames.
She was more beautiful than the dream had ever allowed her to be.
Her eyes were wide with disbelief, staring at him as if she were seeing a phantom. The expression was completely at odds with her composure, with the unshakable certainty he remembered.
At his feet, the shadows writhed.
They rippled outward without his command, twisting into jagged, nightmarish shapes, mirroring the chaos inside him. Fear. Relief. Rage. Hope. Disbelief.
He did not know what he was about to do.
He did not know whether he would laugh, or fall to his knees, or reach for her, or summon his blade.
He never found out.
One of the Saints -the younger one- hesitated and then lunged at him, blade in hand.