The guardian of the Moonlight Shard loomed over Sunny and Cassie, a towering symbol of death. Its destructive force was overwhelming—so much so that Sunny questioned whether it truly was only a Fallen Beast. The Spire Messengers were Fallen Monsters, and even they didn't command this level of brutality.
The creature lunged and swiped at the two Sleepers, blasting silt into the air with every blow. If Sunny could fight alone—dodging freely and choosing his moments—his mastery of combat would have let him more comfortably fight the beast.
But Cassie was here. She couldn't survive a direct clash with the creature. If Sunny didn't keep its attention, she'd be left exposed to a force she couldn't possibly match.
So, Sunny stayed close. Every blow from the creature outpaced him—and a single brush from its limbs could tear through his flesh like paper. The situation was dire, and a single mistake would condemn him to an early end.
Worse still, every counterattack he launched was evaded. The creature bent at impossible, physics-defying angles—its body warping and contracting as if bone was just a suggestion. The repulsive sound of bones breaking harmonized with infernal screeches.
Sunny took the creature head-on, circling just outside its reach, reading its rhythm. Cassie flanked to the side—close enough to act, far enough to avoid its wrath.
While Cassie couldn't compete with a creature of this caliber, she still had to contribute—otherwise, she'd only drag Sunny down. If she didn't, he would have no openings to exploit. She too fell into the trance of combat and made measured contributions when possible.
It was a razor-thin dance of death, and both would eventually fall if they did not work together seamlessly. Even if Cassie were absent, and Sunny alone, avoiding longer would only cause him to fall to the stampedes that would quickly overrun Caster and Effie.
As the rhythm of battle deepened, counterattacks from the Sleepers grew more frequent, but it still wasn't enough. Every time they neared a true strike, the creature shimmered and reappeared a fraction of a second later—just as it had when it appeared behind the vanguard.
It wasn't teleportation, as the effect wasn't instant. It also wasn't doing something like stepping into the shadows, manipulating time, or some other flashy supernatural power. It seemed to just cease existing for a time, then begin sometime later.
'It's like summoning and dismissing the Moonlight Shard' Sunny thought avoiding a particularly vicious swipe.
The information did little to help him, nor did it make much sense for a mere beast to possess this power. That kind of ability tended to be possessed by Devils and above. The creature was truly an anomaly in every sense of the word.
Both were, actually. One howls with many voices. The other moved to its screams. Seemingly a call and response.
When Sunny struck again, the creature vanished—then reappeared behind Cassie a heartbeat later. It lashed out, and her soul panged. Something gnawed at her senses a moment before it materialized, and she was able to somehow anticipate it.
She spun around and blocked a blow with her blade, and was sent flying backwards. Sunny soon stepped forward to prevent the creature from pursuing, though her focus was elsewhere already.
The creature was impossible to pin down. Whenever a strike neared, it simply vanished. Sunny was strong, but he didn't have a way to land a decisive blow. Cassie wasn't anywhere near his skill level, but she would be their key to victory.
The way she sensed its reappearance seemed to be something Sunny couldn't do. If they were to survive, she would need to harness that ability.
***
The creature's shriek tore through the battlefield—piercing, layered, alive with hate.
Aiko flinched.
Last time it screamed like that, Caster had barely survived the blur that followed. The Quiet Dancer moved with the cry—fast enough to vanish. The blade didn't just react to the scream —it answered it.
Now, it came again.
The blade shimmered across the clearing—aimed straight at Kai, slender blade poised to pierce his heart, gleaming under the light of the false sun.
Terror clamped down on her chest. Kai was frozen, helpless. The blade closed in—and Aiko felt something dark and heavy press against her mind.
In a desperate surge, her Aspect flared to life.
She didn't think. She shoved—raw telekinetic force lashing out toward the rapier, striking it in midair. She hadn't even known if her power could affect a living weapon.
But it worked.
The blade veered off course. Instead of piercing Kai's heart, it carved a narrow slash across his back. Blood sprayed from the gash.
Her breath hitched. Her hands trembled slightly. But Kai was still alive. Aiko's heart soared—nearly as high as the boy himself.
Twisting midair, Kai swung his falcata with the momentum to retaliate, though it only found empty air. The Quiet Dancer was still faster, and the battle was far from over. The air was not an ideal place to fight with a sword, at least for Kai, but he would be hopelessly outmatched in speed on the ground.
"Focus," Aiko murmured to herself, grounding her thoughts.
She watched as Kai and the sentient blade whirled through the air. He was agile, yes—but Kai was an archer, not a duelist. The Quiet Dancer thrived in close quarters, every strike honed with ghostly precision. Despite his skill, Kai was hopelessly outmatched.
Then, across the battlefield, the monstrosity facing Sunny and Cassie screamed again.
The rapier shuddered—and vanished in a silver blur.
By the time Aiko registered it, Kai was screaming. A clean hole had been punched through his shoulder, rendering one of his arms useless. The burst of speed triggered by the creature's howl was too fast to match with reflexes alone.
But the mind was faster than the body.
Aiko's eyes locked on the blade. She focused—not on catching it, but on reading it.
And that's when the realization struck her.
Sunny had once told Caster that his Flaw revealed how to use his Aspect. That wisdom echoed through her now, loud and clear.
Flaw: Fleeting Grasp
Flaw Description: [You cannot hold on to what you desire.]
Her Dormant Ability gave her control over objects—but she had always failed to maintain that control. She could nudge, redirect, or manipulate subtly, but any attempt to sustain that contact had collapsed.
Until now.
She remembered deflecting the rapier to save Kai. In that moment, she hadn't tried to grip the weapon with her mind. She hadn't latched onto it with force or intent.
She had simply struck.
She hadn't willed the blade to move—she simply struck out with the force already within her, meeting the blade in midair. The redirection of the blade's motion was a natural consequence.
The rationale behind the difference was deceptive in simplicity. Before, she had always tried to latch onto an object, forcing her Aspect's power into it to move it how she wanted. In that moment, though, her instinct took over.
She couldn't grasp an object with her telekinesis, but holding was not the same as controlling.
It almost made too much sense. Existence has inertia. Hitting a sword against something arbitrarily wouldn't make it split in two. The force imparted by the sword had to create that.
She had been approaching her powers backwards—willing outputs from a function without supplying the inputs. Using her Aspect on something wouldn't arbitrarily make it move as she wished, she had to supply that power herself.
It all clicked —This is what her Flaw had been trying to tell her.
When the Quiet Dancer whipped toward Kai again, Aiko reacted with confidence. She didn't try to catch it. She struck—her Aspect parrying the blade away.
The rapier swerved, missing Kai by inches and streaking past them for quite a distance. It paused, motionless for the first time.
It fell to arm level above the ground, and the illusory dancer holding it reappeared once again, her eyes locked on Aiko with a wild, fractured hunger.
Behind her, Kai lay unconscious in the dust.
Aiko stood alone.
Her legs wanted to lock. Her thoughts wanted to scatter. But this time, she stayed composed.
The world shrank to one fight, one breath, one blade—until another scream tore through it.
***
Cassie's grip on the Midnight Shard tightened until her knuckles turned bone-white. The battle between the creature and Sunny was truly terrifying, and existed in a realm she wasn't a part of.
Not yet.
The creature shimmered again, vanishing mid-step as Sunny's blade passed harmlessly through empty air.
Cassie didn't shout a warning. Didn't pause to think.
A flicker, not in her vision but in something deeper—a whisper in the soul, a signal that came not from sense but from premonition. She trusted it, and let herself react before trying to process.
She moved before fear could catch up.
Cassie lunged, blade raised. She darted in from a diagonal angle to the space where the creature would return.
The monstrosity reappeared, and Cassie's black tachi drove into its side. She continued charging forward, wrapping her arms around the beast.
Momentarily restrained, the creature brought its arm down with the force of a runaway train, and a terrible crack rang across the clearing.
A terrible pain shot through Cassie's head, and her breath vanished in a shocked gasp. Her vision turned white, and her ears deafened with a piercing ring. Her body crumpled from the blow, folding beneath the force—but she held on, arms wrapped around the beast, blade buried deep in the twisted meat of its ribs.
Blood ran down her face, pouring from her scalp. Her empty eyes flickered with resolve.
Sunny's stomach churned in fear, but he didn't let it stop him from moving.
In one fluid motion, he sped towards the atrocity. His shadow wrapped his blade, and with a roar, he drove it straight into the creature's gaping void-mouth.
The beast convulsed, jaw distending in a silent scream as the sword drove deep into its skull. An eerie pulse rippled through its body, and then—
It wailed.
The sound wasn't rage. It was release, from thousands of voices.
An unnatural wind ripped outward from the void on its face, opening dozens of lacerations across Sunny's arm. The cuts were far from shallow, and even the almighty power of Blood Weave failed to keep the boy's blood entirely within his body. Blood spattered the silt below as Sunny reeled, pain swallowing his focus.
But he didn't falter.
Sunny twisted the blade and drove it deeper, until the void-mouthed horror gave one last, shuddering tremor—
—and fell. In Sunny's ears, the spell whispered:
[You have slain a Fallen Beast, Bitter Chorus]
[Your shadow grows stronger.]
[You have received a Memory: Moonlight Shard.]
***
Across the battlefield, the Quiet Dancer stilled, gaze trained on Aiko.
The death throe of the Bitter Chorus tore through the air—raw, final, and ancient. The blade heard it.
As though pulled by an invisible tether, the Quiet Dancer vibrated—responding to the end of its twisted conductor.
It blurred again, faster than ever before.
Aiko didn't think.
The blade was a silver whisper on the wind. But this time, she didn't try to grab it. She didn't fight to possess its motion or bend it into obedience. Instead, she simply acted upon it.
The Quiet Dancer, speeding towards Aiko, suddenly jerked downward, and planted into the ground mere steps away from her.
She seized her opportunity, stepping down on the rapier and pinning it with all the force she could muster. For a heartbeat, it writhed beneath her boot, vibrating with unnatural malice.
She raised the Prowling Thorn in both hands.
Her body screamed. Her thoughts fought her. But her intent held steady.
With a scream that came from somewhere primal, she plunged the blade down, calling on every ounce of strength—muscle and mind alike.
Telekinetic force poured into the strike. The dagger hit like a meteor.
The rapier shattered.
The illusion of the dancer fragmented into shimmering ash, spinning in a spiral of vanishing light. Just before she vanished completely, a faint, wistful smile touched her translucent lips. Not joy. Not peace. Something closer to relief. A chime echoed—soft, haunting.
Aiko dropped to her knees, trembling. Pain exploded through her shoulder. She gasped, arm now limp at her side. In but a few breaths, she collapsed from essence exhaustion.
[You have slain an Awakened Devil, Quiet Dancer]
[You have received an Echo: Quiet Dancer.]
***
The chaos of the world unraveled all at once, silence shattering.
A final scream of Armageddon tore across the barren clearing. The Bitter Chorus's death throes reverberated through coral and silt, a noise that reached into the bones of the land itself. The monsters at the edge of the labyrinth recoiled. This scream was not like the one which summoned them—this one terrified them.
The Nightmare Creatures hissed and shrieked, crashing into one another as panic spread through the swarm. Dozens scattered, then hundreds—clawing over coral, trampling bone and mud, fleeing as though something worse than death had called their names.
They left as swiftly as they had come, and from within the wreckage of battle, two figures emerged.
Effie stumbled first, armor torn, one eye swollen shut. Her chest heaved with every breath. Blood caked her knuckles, and a long, jagged gash split her side open. She held her wound with shaking hands, took two more steps—
—and collapsed face-first into the silt.
Across the clearing, Caster breathed in shallow, ragged gasps. His face was paler than snow, and his eyes were sunken with fatigue. It wasn't just the lost blood and exertion that exhausted him though. His visage grew sharper, and a dusting of beard stubble covered his chin. He moved slower than usual.
His Flaw had taken its toll.
Caster dropped to one knee, catching himself with both hands against the dirt.
For a long time, no one moved.
The air was thick with blood and silence.
Sunny stood amid it all, face and arm slick with crimson. Cuts crisscrossed his skin. His clothes were torn, and his body screamed from the inside out.
He looked at Effie's collapsed form. At Caster, half-doubled in the silt. Kai standing over Aiko's collapsed form, trying to shake her awake. At the statue of the Slayer standing sentinel above it all.
They survived.
…They won.
But nothing about it felt like victory.
The clearing didn't feel like a battlefield where they had triumphed.
It felt like a grave.