'Ugh… where am I…?'
A young — or perhaps old — man groaned, echoing across a large, spacious room. His features, carefully carved into an exquisite statue, tended as he found himself in an unfamiliar location. And yet, his eyes were closed… so how could he have noticed?
Well, for someone who was almost omniscient when it came to his surroundings, he didn't need sight to recognize the recognizable.
'Seats… walls… a movie theater? Nothing here… seems real, though.'
The young man, who just remembered who he was; Sunless, also known by most as Sunny, cracked his eyes open. Not out of necessity, but simply because he could. Countless velvet seats were aligned throughout the room, and before him, a strange, indistinct screen wavered like a shattered illusion.
'Memoria? Looks like everything here is made of it.'
Sunny clicked his tongue. A long time ago, such a thing wouldn't have been much of an obstacle. With what he had sacrificed, however, it was now a perfect prison. The shadows themselves were fabricated, and could be destroyed, controlled, or created by whoever captured him…
'…Huh?'
Now that he thought about it, what had he been doing before this? What did he sacrifice? Why did he know so much about Memoria?
Who… was he?
A sense of terror swelled up within him. Besides his name, Sunny knew nothing else about himself. There were feelings and general descriptions attached to certain things, but the details… the memories evaded him.
And yet, his instincts remained.
He held out his hand for a moment, as if summoning an imaginary sword, before internally sighing.
'It's no use.'
His Aspect was inactive. He was disconnected from all his other abilities as well. He couldn't enter his Soul Sea, couldn't summon his Shadows, and couldn't shift to any paths. In fact, his own invaluable helpers were missing having ventured off to who knows where.
However, with the fact that he still had his Shadow Sense, Sunny confirmed that his natural affinities were unchanged. He might have lacked the ability to summon or control anything, but at least he was aware of everything… to a degree.
Past the four walls of the theater, there was… nothing. Well, there was certainly something, but it wasn't anything that had a shadow. After a few moments, he came to a simple conclusion:
'Path Space.'
It felt familiar, yet alien. Like he was a creature who shouldn't belong in such a place — and no human should — but he's certainly been here before. When? He wasn't sure.
Either way, relaxing in the Memoria-formed seat, Sunny made a couple deductions:
'So… there are three Paths that could be involved. Remembrance is the biggest possibility, but the Harmony and the mystery Path could be involved as well… nevermind. That third one is too chaotic for this. Harmony is more focused on individuals, so… Remembrance it is.'
Sunny did not speak. In these kinds of situations, speaking could be the exact thing that leaves him open. For example, if he was being attacked by an Emanator of Remembrance, then speaking might be the condition that allows them to look through his mind. Of course, he was quite tempted to do so, feeling a little mischievous, but he wasn't completely sure if they were an enemy or someone to curious for their own good.
Curiosity killed the cat, or something.
It might kill them too. That would be troublesome.
…Thankfully, he didn't need to wait long until something changed.
On the wide screen, space seemed to fizzle as Memoria began to form words. At the same time, Sunny sighed out loud, shutting his eyes in exasperation.
"Fuli, huh? Or an Emanator of the same Path that can replicate THEIR gaze… but thats unlikely. Not with my current state."
The moment he felt that presence, things began to click into place as he let go of the urge to stay silent. In reality, he wasn't even the real Sunny. He was simply a mass of jumbled memories — from the past, present, and future. It was no wonder he couldn't recall what he was doing before… he had done it, was doing it, and hadn't done it all at once, creating a complex paradox.
And through it all, the only truth was the name left by a [Poet], as well as the Attributes engraved in his soul since birth. He was slightly confused about his affinity for shadows remaining, considering how it wasn't an Innate Attribute, but Aeons were ineffable.
…Despite that, Sunny understood that he wouldn't be harmed. Not by Fuli, of all Aeons. So, he lounged in his chair as he read the words on the screen in a mumble.
"The Flame expands infinitely. Fate does not. If Fate is absent, what remains?"
Sunny paused, sneering. The answer didn't seem to be targeted to him…
"I guess even Aeons have THEIR stupid philosophical questions. I swear, everyone around me is insane."
He wasn't sure who everyone was, but it must have been true!
The screen suddenly shifted, revealing a new set of words.
"Enigmata IF: The Boy Who Cried Lies."
Sunny blinked.
"…I didn't know Fuli had a side hustle of making movies."