Sunless clung to the [Prowling Thorn] like it was the last thread of life he had left—because, well, it was.
Dangling over the yawning black throat of the ravine, he gritted his teeth and hauled himself upward, hand over hand, the slender wire straining beneath his weight but holding firm. His wounded muscles protested with every movement, but the alternative was a long, dark fall into nothingness.
Ten or so meters above, five pale faces hovered at the cliff's edge, peering down at him. The expressions etched onto them were a tangled mess of horror, shock, and sheer disbelief.
'Oh. Right. I guess they don't know about this little Memory of mine.'
From their vantage point, it must have looked like he had simply... thrown himself into oblivion. One moment, he was running; the next, he had hurled himself straight into the abyss without hesitation, vanishing into the black void as though he had decided to sacrifice himself.
Like some sort of tragic, noble hero.
Sunny grimaced.
'Do they even know me? Like I'd ever pull a stunt like that for free...'
Swinging gently on the invisible string, he braced his aching ribs and shouted up toward the cliff:
"Hey, idiots! I'm down here!"
There was a beat of silence before, one by one, four of the five faces cautiously leaned out over the precipice, peering down at him. Their wide-eyed, bewildered expressions were absolutely priceless.
Cassie, meanwhile, simply tilted her head to the side, her blank white eyes unreadable—but even her normally serene face had the faintest trace of bewilderment.
Grinning wickedly, Sunny pulled himself higher, commanding the [Prowling Thorn] to begin shortening. As the length of the thread decreased, he almost floated upward, occasionally pressing his boots against the sheer cliff face to give himself a boost.
In a matter of moments, he clambered up over the lip of the ravine and collapsed onto the cold stone, breathing hard. His chest burned with exertion, and his whole body ached, but he was alive—and back among the living.
The others simply stared at him, too stunned to speak.
Sunny wiped the sweat from his forehead and gave them a mock-offended look.
"...What? Are you disappointed?"
Effie, ever the first to recover, finally broke the silence:
"Uh... glad you're alive, Sunny. But also... what the actual hell? How did you do that?"
Without bothering to explain, Sunny lazily tossed her the kunai. Effie bent to pick it up—only to yelp slightly when the dagger abruptly jerked out of her hand and zipped back to Sunny, pulled by the invisible string.
"Oh, that?" Sunny said casually, twirling the blade between his fingers before dismissing it back into the Memory. "Piece of cake. Nothing that a knife and a bit of string can't solve... more or less."
He decided to leave out the part where, for a few terrifying seconds between leaping into the abyss and the [Prowling Thorn] successfully embedding itself into the far wall, he had very seriously considered the possibility that he was about to become street pizza at the bottom of a bottomless pit.
Effie blinked, her brain clearly struggling to keep up, and then slowly straightened.
"...Cool Memory," she said at last, a touch grudgingly. "Where'd you get it?"
Sunny waved a hand tiredly, already regretting how much energy he'd spent.
"You remember those porcupine monsters back in the city? Got it off one of them."
At that, the others seemed to relax a little. They were all hurting—bruised, bloodied, and dead tired. The adrenaline was fading, leaving only exhaustion and pain in its wake.
Nephis stirred, making a move to reach for her healing abilities—but Effie was faster. The huntress stepped in, shaking her head grimly.
"Not yet," she muttered, low and serious. "One last hurdle left. We'll need you at your best."
Changing Star hesitated, her luminous gaze studying Effie for a long moment, but then nodded and lowered her hands. Out here, Effie's word as the pathfinder was final. If she said wait, they waited.
Sunny, sprawled on the cold stone, didn't care either way. He could already feel the slow, grinding process of his wounds beginning to heal. It would take time, but he'd live.
For now, all he wanted was to stay exactly where he was—flat on his back, alive, and blissfully at rest.
'*'
After some time — long enough that Sunny had started to doze, though never completely — he heard quiet steps approaching through the gloom.
He cracked one eye open, and found Kai settling down nearby, moving with the casual elegance of someone who had no right to look that composed after everything they'd just survived.
Sunny scowled inwardly.
Somehow, the charming archer looked... fresh. Maybe a little scuffed, sure — hair mussed, armor scratched — but even that only seemed to make him look better, like the aftermath of a staged photoshoot rather than an actual death match.
At this point, Sunny was almost convinced Kai had an Attribute for it. Something like [Ridiculously Photogenic] or [Always Windblown and Heroic]. It was either that, or the universe just hated Sunny personally.
Sighing through his nose, he muttered:
"Hey, Night. You alive?"
Kai gave him an easy smile and ruffled his own hair sheepishly.
"Somehow, yeah. That was... something else, huh?"
Sunny grunted, too exhausted to form a full sentence.
Kai hesitated, then sat down properly beside him, pulling his knees up and resting his arms on them. He looked unusually thoughtful.
"I, uh... actually came to tell you a few things," he said.
Sunny tilted his head slightly. He wasn't sure if he had the energy for a heart-to-heart right now, but he nodded anyway.
"Alright. Shoot."
Kai laughed lightly, the sound tired but sincere.
"First of all... that jump. You know, off the cliff? *What the hell,* Sunny. That was insane."
Sunny allowed himself a lazy grin.
"Yeah, well. You should have figured out I'm insane when I dragged you into fighting a dragon."
Kai chuckled, his eyes warm.
"Fair point."
He looked down at his hands for a moment, gathering his thoughts, then said, quieter:
"Second thing... I think I finally get it. How you survived all that time alone. I saw you fight before, but seeing it up close... the way you move, how fast you adapt — it's something else. Honestly, it's inspiring."
Sunny blinked, caught off guard by the genuine praise. Compliments always made him feel a little off-balance, like standing on uneven ground.
He shrugged, trying to brush it off casually.
"Thanks," he said, rougher than he meant to. "And if you want, I can teach you a few things."
Kai's head snapped up, his eyes widening in surprise.
"Wait — really? I thought you'd be... I don't know. Harder to convince."
Sunny gave him a crooked smirk.
"Why? You think I'm the type to sulk and refuse out of spite?"
Kai grinned back, a little mischievous.
"Honestly? You kinda give off tsundere vibes."
Sunny frowned.
"...What's a tsundere?"
Kai waved it off quickly. "Nothing! Forget it!"
Sunny squinted at him suspiciously, but let it drop. He reached out instead, clasped Kai's hand in a firm grip, and pushed a Memory into the young man's Soul Sea.
A faint ripple of warmth passed between them as the [Azure Blade] transferred, its silent, sleeping power now tied to Kai.
"This should help," Sunny said simply. "The blade remembers prior fights. Adapts your fighting style. Makes you better the more you use it."
Kai stared at him for a moment — as if weighing words he didn't quite know how to say — then lowered his head slightly in a deep, silent thank-you.
"...Really, Sunny," he said, voice low. "Thank you."
Sunny shrugged again, uncomfortable but secretly a little pleased.
Before the mood could get any heavier, Kai shifted awkwardly.
"Actually, there's one more thing."
Sunny quirked a brow.
Kai rubbed the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly.
"...You do remember I can fly, right? I could have just carried you over the chasm. No need for the death-defying stunt."
Sunny froze.
For a long moment, he simply stared at Kai, expressionless.
A cold realization sank into his gut like a stone:
In the madness of the battle, the panic and the blood, he had completely, utterly forgotten that tiny, crucial detail.
Kai could fly.
He hadn't needed to jump at all.
There was a long stretch of awkward, painful silence.
Finally, Sunny cleared his throat and said, voice painfully dry:
"...It seemed like a good idea at the time."
Kai blinked, incredulous.
"A... good idea?"
Sunny glared half-heartedly at him.
"It *worked,* didn't it? So shut up."
Kai snorted — an undignified, barely muffled laugh — but he nodded solemnly, as if swearing a sacred oath.
"Alright, alright. Never speaking of it again."
Sunny let his head fall back against the ground with a sigh, closing his eyes.
He could still hear Kai quietly chuckling to himself.
But honestly?
Right now, he was too tired to care.
They needed rest before their confrontation with the Lord of the Dead.
'*'
The Lord of the Dead loomed before them — a Fallen Tyrant of grotesque magnitude, its form an abominable heap of human skeletons fused into a monstrous, shifting mass. It was the target of the mission Kido had sent them on: a desperate, perilous task they had little choice but to accept.
Kido, in her unrelenting ingenuity, had managed to create an inferior imitation of the fabled Prince's Fruits — a botanical marvel capable of absorbing ambient essence and storing it in minute capsules. Her version lacked the full potency of the original, but it was still powerful enough for their purposes.
Their strategy was straightforward in theory, yet dangerous in execution. The first plant would not harm the Tyrant directly — instead, it would silently siphon essence from the surrounding air and lay the groundwork. Later, it would serve as nourishment for a second plant: a vicious growth designed to devour the stored essence and, in doing so, render the Tyrant's skeletal body brittle. Two poisons, botanical in nature, working in tandem. A slow death for a creature beyond conventional defeat.
They had been given several cloth bags of the first plant's seeds — more than strictly necessary — with each member of the group entrusted with one.
All except Cassie, who was spared from the task, and Night, who bore three.
The plan was simple: get as close as possible to the slumbering abomination and scatter the seeds.
Simple… and suicidal.
Because although the Lord of the Dead slept, its sleep was not still. It thrashed and stirred fitfully, its tangled limbs — if they could even be called that — lashing out without reason or warning. Each convulsion sent titanic bones hurtling through the air with enough force to pulverize any one of them instantly.
One careless move, one moment of hesitation, and death would come, swift and merciless.
They had taken turns dashing into danger, throwing their seed bags as close to the Tyrant's sprawling bulk as they dared before retreating to the relative safety beyond its reach. It was a dance of death, one misstep away from oblivion.
Now, only two figures remained within the monster's deadly radius — Nephis and Sunny.
Changing Star turned her head sharply toward him, her silvery white hair flashing like a blade in the gloom, and shouted:
"Your turn!"
Her voice was clear, commanding, cutting through the chaos.
But Sunny didn't move.
His gaze was riveted not on Nephis, not on the bag of seeds in his hand, but on something else entirely — something at the very base of the grotesque mountain of bones.
Half-buried in the pale wreckage, almost hidden by the skeletal remains, a faint golden glow shimmered weakly.
Sunny's heart skipped a beat.
For a moment, he lingered, his mind racing at a speed few could match.
He knew himself — greedy, yes. Incurably curious.
But above all, he valued survival.
It was that cold instinct, that honed pragmatism, that ruled him now.
His thoughts crystallized into ruthless clarity:
Was the reward worth the risk?
Could he make it there, grab the prize, and escape with his life intact?
Sunny's eyes flicked to Nephis. His decision was made in the span of a heartbeat.
"You go," he said calmly. "I'll be right behind you."
It wasn't a lie.
He would follow — just not quite the way she expected.
Nephis hesitated for the briefest moment, then nodded sharply and turned away, racing to safety.
Sunny pivoted without another word and sprinted toward the Fallen Tyrant instead.
There was no time to lose.
No time to doubt.
With a thought, he summoned the Prowling Thorn into his hand — the throwing dagger materializing in a flash of dark steel — and hurled it at the mountain of bones.
He didn't aim to wound the giant; such a notion was laughable.
No, he only needed the blade to *lodge* itself somewhere solid.
The kunai struck true, biting deep into the mass of skeletal remains.
Sunny tugged sharply on the invisible string bound to the weapon, and then — just as one of the Tyrant's grotesque limbs suddenly surged toward him, blotting out the world in a wall of bone — he launched himself into the air.
The pull of the string hurled him forward like a stone from a sling.
He soared over the whirling chaos, heart hammering in his chest, and landed with a bone-jarring impact near the base of the Fallen Tyrant.
The golden glow was just ahead.
Gritting his teeth, Sunny threw himself forward and plunged his hand into the creaking, shifting mass of bones.
For an instant, he felt nothing — and then his fingers closed around something solid, cold, and small.
Grunting with effort, he yanked it free, sending a spray of ancient bones clattering to the ground.
Pain lanced up his arm — sharp and biting.
Sunny staggered back, cradling the prize in his hand.
He opened his fingers.
Nestled in his palm was a small, intricately wrought iron key. It would have looked unremarkable, almost mundane, if not for the ethereal golden light softly radiating from within it.
Sunny stared at it, momentarily transfixed.
But before he could savor the triumph, a wave of weakness crashed over him like a tide.
He stumbled, blinking in sudden, disoriented confusion.
Lowering his gaze, he twisted his forearm — and froze.
There, spreading rapidly from a thin scratch across his skin, was a dark, crawling stain.
For a moment, Sunny simply stared, uncomprehending.
Then understanding struck — brutal and cold.
His eyes widened in horror.
Turns out his armor wasn't as impenetrable as he thought.
At that moment, a grotesque parasite was latched onto his forearm — a bloated leech, its repulsive body pulsating as it gorged itself on his blood. Its translucent belly swelled at an alarming speed, crimson fluid flooding into it with every heartbeat.
'Ah… ah… aaaah!'
A shudder of revulsion twisted Sunny's gut. Fighting against the surge of horror, he gritted his teeth and slammed his fist into the vile creature's spongy flesh.
The shadows surged to meet his will — the formidable strength granted by [Nevermore's Embrace] amplifying the force behind his blow.
The impact was brutal, more than enough to shatter the skull of a Spire Messenger.
The leech burst apart in a shower of blackened gore.
A mechanical chime sounded in his mind:
[You have slain a Fallen Beast, Corpse Eater.]
[Your shadow grows stronger.]
Sunny blinked, briefly stunned.
'Huh.'
Before he could even process it, another message appeared:
[You have received a Memory.]
His eyes widened, but he didn't linger on the notification. There was no time for wonder or greed — not here, not now.
Shaking off the haze of astonishment, Sunny lunged forward, heart hammering in his chest. He still had to escape from this damn place.
With a swift, almost desperate motion, he ripped the bloodied soul shard from the ruined remains of the abominable leech, feeling the sticky warmth of its lifeblood smear across his hand.
Without missing a beat, he whirled around and sprinted toward the golden rope still hanging in the dim air — his lifeline.
Behind him, the Fallen Tyrant stirred. A massive bone tentacle erupted from the mound of corpses with terrifying force, lashing out in pursuit.
Sunny ducked low, rolling across the blood-slick ground to avoid the deadly sweep.
Bones shattered and splintered around him.
He vaulted over a jagged pile of skeletal debris, ignoring the sharp pangs that cut at his legs.
The rope was within reach now — gleaming faintly in the gloom like salvation itself.
With a desperate leap, he seized it.
The moment his fingers wrapped around the braided strands, the rope responded, tightening and lifting him upward.
The ground fell away beneath him.
As he ascended, battered and bleeding, the chaos below slowly diminished.
The bone mountain settled.
The Lord of the Dead — that grotesque, slumbering nightmare — gave no further sign of waking.
In the end, it remained still, undisturbed in its ageless slumber...
Its prey slipping from its grasp and vanishing into the silence.
'*'
Dragging himself free from the muck, Sunny collapsed to his knees, the last remnants of his strength bleeding out of him like water through a broken dam. For a moment, he simply knelt there, swaying slightly, and then let his battered body sag onto the cracked, sun-warmed ground.
Every breath rasped from his throat in ragged, wheezing gasps.
Pain sang in his nerves — a raw, blistering ache that seemed to fill every fiber of his being.
But despite it all, despite the exhaustion and the agony, a small, broken laugh stirred in his chest.
Because overhead, above the ruined earth and the shattered remnants of their battle, the sky was open and blue once again.
The sun — that blessed, golden sun — shone down on him without mercy, too bright for his raw eyes.
And it was beautiful.
A weak groan escaped his cracked lips.
'That... that was really stupid.'
While Sunny lay there contemplating his questionable life choices, a shadow fell across him.
He blinked sluggishly, turning his head — and found Nephis standing over him, her silver hair plastered to her face with sweat and grime, her pale features twisted into a dark, furious scowl.
For a second, neither of them spoke.
"...What?" he rasped out hoarsely.
Instead of answering, Nephis dropped down to one knee beside him, glaring at him with an intensity that could have set the mud around them boiling.
"Are you insane?" she hissed. "Why would you do something so reckless?"
Sunny tried to laugh — a dry, broken sound that ended in a brutal coughing fit.
Doubling over, he struggled to catch his breath, every movement sending fresh spikes of agony through his body.
When he finally recovered enough to speak, he wordlessly lifted his trembling hand. Resting in his palm was an intricately wrought iron key, small and unassuming... except for the faint, ethereal golden light that pulsed within it like a hidden heartbeat.
"I thought..." he managed between shallow breaths, "...this had to be important. Especially if it was hidden by *that* thing."
Nephis stared at the key in silence, her eyes shadowed and unreadable.
Then, with a quiet sigh, she shook her head and leaned forward without another word.
Her cool hand pressed lightly against his battered chest. Sunny felt her close her eyes... and then, a moment later, the gentle warmth of the white flame unfurled within him.
It spread through his broken body like a cleansing tide, mending torn flesh and shattered bone, soothing the fiery ache that wracked his muscles.
It was a familiar sensation, and a costly one — he knew how much pain it caused her to share it.
But even so, even knowing the price she paid, Sunny couldn't help but feel a shudder of relief, almost of gratitude, as the pain ebbed away beneath her touch.
His breathing slowed. His vision cleared.
And for the first time in what felt like forever, Sunny truly *felt* the victory.
They had done it.
They had survived.
They had escaped the Dark City.
The key still gleamed faintly in his hand, a silent testament to the impossible gamble he had taken... and won.
'*'
To continue their arduous journey, the cohort had to venture into lands unknown — at least, unknown to Sunny.
The colossal crater they had been traversing stretched so wide that its curvature was almost invisible to the naked eye. Only by squinting far, far into the hazy distance could one even tell that the ground was bending at all. Left unchecked, they could have wandered its muddy basin for hours, perhaps even days, without realizing they were spiraling farther away from today's true destination, which lay somewhere to the southwest.
But they couldn't afford to remain here for long.
The black waters creeping through the crater posed their own kind of threat, silent and insidious. And worse, in this vast, barren plain, they were terribly exposed.
If any flying Nightmare Creature spotted them from above, they would have nowhere to run, no walls to hide behind — just the cold, empty sky and the treacherous mud underfoot.
At least in the Labyrinth, for all its many horrors, there were places to vanish. Places to fight — or flee — with a fighting chance.
And so, eventually, Nephis led them toward the steep inner slope of the crater.
With Kai's help — and the trusty golden rope gleaming in the dim light — the climb was far from easy, but manageable. One by one, the six of them scrambled up the slick incline, until at last they stood upon the high ridge that separated the crater from the tangled nightmare of the Labyrinth beyond.
For a while, they trudged along the rim, the muddy ground giving way beneath their boots, before finally, inevitably, turning west — and plunging once more into the crimson maze.
Sunny couldn't help but sigh as the towering walls of living coral rose around them, casting twisted shadows across their path.
The sight brought back memories... none of them particularly pleasant.
He did not miss those early days of his wretched journey through the Dream Realm — not even a little.
Well... perhaps a little.
But not for the labyrinth itself. No, never for this cursed place.
Here, the landscape was at once familiar and alien. The endless maze of blood-red coral looked almost the same as the region he had once fought through east of the crater — but the life inhabiting it had changed. Drastically.
There were no hulking carapace beasts marching through these corridors, no heavy-footed patrols thundering through the narrow passageways.
Instead, the coral was draped in endless sheets of grey — webs spun with such density that it sometimes seemed as if the very air had been stitched shut.
Worse yet, the material wasn't soft like spider silk.
The threads gleamed coldly under the pale sun, fine as hair and hard as iron.
Touch them, thrash against them — and you would be sliced apart like meat in a butcher's shop.
Getting entangled in one of these infernal webs meant death.
A slow, grisly death.
Sunny grimaced as he carved a path forward, his Memories slicing through the steel threads with brutal efficiency.
The webs slowed them down, snagging and catching at their gear, but they kept moving. They had no other choice.
The real threat came from the nightmare creatures themselves — hideous, spider-like abominations that scuttled along the coral walls, watching from above with too many black, glinting eyes.
Still, after much effort, they found a place to make camp — a rare patch of broken coral where the sunlight managed to filter down unobstructed, a blessing in this suffocating maze.
When night fell, Sunny took the first watch.
He sat quietly beneath the crimson walls, his sword resting across his knees, staring out into the Dark Seas endless, shifting deepest .
There was no real need for him to stay awake — sleep was a luxury he had no need for — but staying alert passed the time, and time needed passing.
Above him, the sky darkened, and the chorus of unseen horrors began to rise.
But Sunny simply waited, still as a shadow, listening to the night.
Ready for whatever came.
Yet nothing came.
'*'
Everyone needed a break — a real one.
So, for once, the cohort had agreed to rest a full day on the marble arch, postponing their long journey until tomorrow.
And now Sunny found himself sitting cross-legged by the fire, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing out loud.
It wasn't exactly *funny*.
But there was something so absurd, so unexpectedly surreal about the scene unfolding in front of him that he could hardly bear it.
Back in the waking world, he had seen it often — a familiar trope, repeated endlessly in dramas, webtoons, anime, cartoons.
No matter how serious the adventure, how dark the journey, there would always be a moment like this.
A beach episode.
Somewhere, somehow, the heroes would end up half-naked, lounging around, pretending for a precious few hours that the world wasn't falling apart around them.
Sunny had never quite understood the reason.
Maybe it really *was* just an excuse to show the girls in swimsuits.
Not that he was complaining.
Still, he had never imagined he would find himself living out such a ridiculous moment.
And yet… here they were.
The marble arch wasn't exactly a beach, and their worn cloth wrappings weren't exactly swimsuits, but the feeling was the same.
Their armor and weapons were sealed away in the Soul Seas to mend themselves.
Which left them all — himself included — dressed in nothing but crude loincloths, the girls with makeshift brassieres knotted from spare scraps.
It was stupid.
It was absurd.
It was... strangely wonderful.
Sunny leaned back on his arms, letting the warmth of the stone seep into his skin, and let his gaze wander.
Effie crouched closest to the fire, turning the spit with one hand and absentmindedly throwing kindling into the flames with the other.
The firelight bathed her in a molten glow, outlining every curve, every flexed muscle of her body with savage beauty.
Effie wasn't just fit — she was *fierce*.
Her body was a living sculpture of strength: lean, hard, and brimming with casual power.
Every movement, no matter how small, rippled with potential energy, like a wild beast at rest.
The ridges of her abs gleamed beneath the flickering light, each taut line defined by years of tireless hunting and survival.
Her broad shoulders, the proud set of her hips, the effortless way she crouched — it was all natural, effortless, unapologetically bold.
Sunny tried, half-heartedly, to count the number of muscles visible in her stomach, and promptly got distracted halfway through by... other things.
*Not that he was staring.*
Still, a sudden, awkward heat climbed up his neck, and he hastily tore his eyes away before Effie could notice and break his nose out of sheer principle.
His gaze found Nephis next.
Changing Star stood a little apart from the fire, helping Effie with the food.
The silver of her hair caught the firelight and scattered it like a thousand tiny stars, each strand gleaming with a soft, ethereal light.
Without her armor, Nephis seemed lighter — like a figure carved not from stone, but from polished ivory.
Slender and lithe, her form was not sculpted for brute strength, but for lethal precision.
Every motion she made was clean, fluid, perfectly controlled, like a blade dancing in the wind.
The fire's warm glow clung to her pale skin, turning her into a vision of pale gold and gentle shadow.
Her narrow waist, the graceful arch of her neck, the subtle lines of her legs — every part of her moved with an unearthly elegance that left Sunny's chest tight with something he couldn't quite name.
Side by side with Effie's robust, sun-browned figure, Nephis looked almost unreal, like a phantom of light glimpsed through a veil.
*What a sight to behold,* Sunny thought helplessly.
...From a purely aesthetic standpoint, of course.
There was a soft, wistful ache in his chest as he watched her — a yearning for something nameless, something long lost.
Seeing Nephis like this — calm, unarmored, unburdened — called back memories of when they had first met in the Dream Realm, before the world had hardened them, before death and sorrow had settled into their bones.
He blinked and forced himself to look elsewhere.
And found Cassie.
The blind girl sat by the fire, wrapped snugly in her cloak, her delicate profile outlined by the dancing flames.
She was curled slightly into herself, knees drawn up, hands folded neatly over her shins, head bowed in quiet thought.
The firelight kissed the soft planes of her face, accentuating her small, exquisite features — the gentle curve of her mouth, the fragile slope of her nose, the high, smooth line of her cheekbones.
Her blonde hair shimmered like a river of light, spilling down over her shoulders and catching the glow in a thousand delicate strands.
There was something so unearthly about her.
Cassie seemed... untouched by the dirt and blood and savagery of the world around them.
Fragile, yes — but not weak.
Small, yes — but not insignificant.
She was beautiful in a way that made Sunny's chest ache, a kind of beauty that didn't need to shout to be heard.
It simply existed, serene and inevitable.
For a moment, he forgot the Dream Realm.
Forgot the danger, the death, the endless hunger for survival.
There was only the fire.
Only Cassie, resting like a dream of peace in the heart of a nightmare.
Sunny swallowed and looked away quickly, a strange tightness in his throat.
And then, of course, there was Kai.
Damn him.
Kai sat sprawled carelessly near the fire, stretching his long, stupidly handsome body like a lazy cat.
Even covered in soot and dressed in literal rags, he still looked like he belonged on the cover of a fashion magazine.
The golden boy of the gods.
Sunny rolled his eyes so hard it hurt.
Which left only himself and Harus.
Sunny cast a glance down at his own form.
The Dream Realm had been cruel, but it had shaped him well enough.
He was lean, hardened, his skin no longer sickly pale but carrying a faint, clean glow of health.
The scar cutting across his eye ruined the picture somewhat — and if only he were a little taller, maybe he wouldn't have looked quite so much like a particularly dangerous alley cat — but it was... fine.
Fine enough.
Across the fire, Harus sat hunched beneath his tattered cloak, doing his best to be invisible.
Sunny watched him for a moment, feeling a flicker of understanding.
Harus hated being seen — hated the way people stared at him, pitied him, recoiled from him.
But Sunny didn't see a cripple.
He saw a fighter.
A survivor.
Their eyes met briefly.
Without a word, both of them rose and drifted a few steps away from the fire, falling into a rhythm born of familiarity.
This had become their ritual.
Both were natural in-fighters: Sunny by necessity, Harus by the shape the world had beaten into him.
Their nightly sparring had started awkwardly, but over time, it had grown into something more — a bond of movement, of shared breath and sweat and silent resilience.
Sunny was teaching Harus the formal techniques of boxing — proper footwork, proper strikes.
Harus, in turn, was teaching Sunny something far rarer: how to fight like a butcher , how to turn a broken body into a weapon, how to win when everything was stacked against you.
Tonight, they were trying something new.
Adapting the Dempsey Roll — a brutal, relentless weave of force and rhythm — to Harus's misshapen frame.
It wasn't easy.
Every adjustment had to be tailored to the way Harus moved — off-balance, hunched, strangely fluid.
Progress was slow, painful.
But they were getting better.
And, more importantly, they were doing it together.
The two of them circled each other under the stars, bare feet scuffing against ancient marble.
Each jab, each feint, each weaving strike was a quiet act of rebellion — a reminder that, even in a world designed to break them, they were still learning.
Still fighting.
Still *alive.*
'*'
Everyone had gathered around Sunless like moths to a flame—drawn in not by light, but by **loot**. The air buzzed with anticipation, tension, and a low-grade desperation that came from too many days in battle-worn gear and too few opportunities to upgrade. Murmurs overlapped with sharp whispers and hushed bartering. A few were outright pleading already.
The reason? Sunny, in all his smug, scheming glory, had casually announced that he was holding a personal **auction**.
Not just any auction, either. He had six *Ascended Memories* up for grabs—**real** ones, powerful ones, the kind that could turn a desperate fight into a glorious victory. They weren't easy to come by, even for him. Despite having a small army of enthralled Fallen to hunt on his behalf, the Spell didn't exactly hand out rewards for delegation. No, if he wanted Ascended Memories , he had to get close—dangerously close. Risk a mauling, a surprise swing , or the occasional decapitation attempt. All for that sweet, sweet credit.
Still, the payoff had been worth it. Thanks to Prince's army, Sunless now sat on a miniature treasure hoard: a single bloody arrow, two distinctly powerful armors, a brutally elegant mace, and two rare tool-type Memories. Enough to make every person in their little band salivate.
He leaned back on a makeshift seat, arms folded, voice casual as could be. "Let the bidding begin."
Immediately, chaos.
"I'll give you my next *three* Memory drops for the leather armor!" Kai shouted, practically glowing with earnest hope. "And free vocal coaching. For life."
Effie made a noise like she was physically ill. "Oh, great. So he can scream on key while being disemboweled. Very useful, Kai." She leaned toward Sunny, voice low and coaxing. "Sweetheart, for the mace —I'll double that. Throw in all my hunting spoils for the next week. And…" she wiggled her brows, "I'll cook for you. Personally. Also, if you're lonely…" Her voice dipped into a mock whisper. "You know I'm always open to 'fun' arrangements."
Sunny choked on air and nearly dropped the arrow he was holding. She really didn't let up.
Cassie, flustered and cocooned in her cloak, cleared her throat timidly. Her cheeks were visibly flushed—even if she couldn't see the loot, she *definitely* heard the madness. "I… um… for the **hourglass** tool, I'll give you my next echo. And… and my blanket. For the next few nights. If you want it." She fidgeted, smiling shyly. "Or we could, maybe… share it?"
Sunny raised an eyebrow. He knew that tone. She was giggling behind her words, clearly enjoying herself. The academy gossip sessions had taught him just how much Cassie loved harmless mischief—especially when it came with blushing victims.
Then came Nephis. The tension in the group shifted as she stepped forward, arms folded, expression blank and yet somehow commanding. She pointed silently at the platinum armor adorned with golden trim—a clear upgrade from her current gear yet similar in appearance . Her tone was like steel.
"My next two Ascended Memories. For the armor. No negotiations."
"Aw, come *on*, Star," Effie said, nudging her. "That's not how you flirt. You gotta get more creative. Let him braid your hair or something. He's weird like that."
Nephis didn't dignify that with a reply.
Then came Harus.
The cloaked figure shifted in the background, hunched and quiet as ever, before muttering just loud enough to be heard, "For the waterskin… I'll squash three bugs."
A beat of silence.
"Harus," Effie said slowly, "did you just try to buy a magical relic… *with murder*?"
Harus looked up from beneath his hood like she was the idiot, then nodded solemnly. "Yes."
Honestly, it wasn't a bad deal. The **waterskin** replenished itself and temporarily boosted physical strength, but Sunny's armor already offered a greater enhancement. He could part with it. And having Harus squash a few of those hideous beetles in his stead? That sounded like a win.
Cassie was halfway under her cloak now, trying not to dissolve into laughter. Kai looked like he was going to bold into the sky . Nephis's expression twitched—just barely—like she was contemplating offering the same trade.
Sunny let the moment breathe before smirking like a devil offering a poisoned apple. "Well… all bids are valid. But I accept bribes in installments With interest"
"Interest in what exactly?" Effie purred.
"Shut up," Nephis muttered.
Cassie laughed.
In the end , the spoils were distributed with a mix of strategy, laughter, and light emotional blackmail:
Nephis claimed the armor she had silently marked. In return, she owed him two future Ascended Memories… and, for some reason, the rights to her likeness. He hadn't expected her to agree to that last part, which made it all the funnier.
Effie walked off with the leather armor and*the mace—at the cost of six Awakened Memories, with a weekly interest rate , and a dramatic promise to give him her firstborn. Worth it, just for Kai's expression.
Harus got the waterskin and scuttled off to go tend to the fire . He owed a few odd favors now, but that was fine—Sunless could get creative.
Cassie secured the hourglass that could slow her perception of time, in exchange for her next personal Echo. The emphasis on "personal" was important—she had made sure of that before agreeing. But she'd also slipped him a shy smile when no one was looking, and that alone made the trade amusing.
Kai, realizing that the remaining arrow was redundant with his own set, bowed out graciously. With flair, of course.
'*'
Breakfast was delicious—at least, if you asked Sunless. The monster flesh, once stringy and foul-smelling, had been coaxed into something shockingly edible under Nephis's precise, patient touch. She'd seared it over a slow fire, let the juices simmer just long enough to hide the bitterness, and dusted it with crushed herbs for good measure.
Sunny took another bite, chewed thoughtfully, and let out a satisfied hum. It reminded him of the early days at their little Sanctuary, when she had cooked for them without a word, half to survive and half—he suspected—to feel human again. He hadn't realized how much he missed that quiet ritual until now.
Apparently, he wasn't the only one.
Effie leaned back from the fire with a pleased sigh, rubbing her stomach in exaggerated circles. She let out a loud, unapologetic burp and declared, "Once we get back to Earth, I'm only eating five-star meals like *this*, baby."
She sounded completely serious, too.
That got the ball rolling.
Kai tilted his head, that ever-perfect mane of his falling artfully to one side like he was in a shampoo commercial. "Say, Effie… what else would you do? I'm genuinely curious."
The huntress didn't miss a beat.
"Oh, easy. I'd enjoy myself like hell for a bit—party, sleep in, maybe adopt an illegal pet—and then I'd start getting ready for the Second Nightmare." She shrugged, the smile still on her lips. "Simple priorities."
The fire crackled softly. That answer sucked all the chatter out of the air.
Cassie, quiet for a beat, tilted her head toward Effie. "You're sure you want to challenge another Nightmare?"
Effie met her gaze calmly. "I have my reasons. For me, there's no other option."
Silence returned. Then, Cassie exhaled and gave a small nod. "I'd go visit my mom and dad. Just spend time with them, y'know? That's what I miss most in the real world."
She turned her head slightly, milky eyes seeking. "What about you, Night? What's the first thing you'd do?"
Kai shifted awkwardly and looked away, the flickering firelight casting shadows on his cheeks. "Oh… I don't know. I haven't really thought about it."
But a moment later, in a soft voice, he added, "...Avatar Singer."
Sunny blinked. "A what now?"
Kai looked a little embarrassed, but pressed on. "It's a music competition show. Singers perform using generic VR avatars, so no one knows what they look like. Judges only hear their voices—no fame, no fanfare. Identities are revealed at the end."
Effie burst into giggles. "Why would you *hide* that pretty face, Night? It's your biggest asset!"
Kai smiled faintly. "I just think it'd be nice. To be judged only on my skill and voice. Nothing else. And… well, it'd be a hell of a way to make a comeback, wouldn't it? Surprise reveal, screaming fans, massive media storm—"
He mimed an explosion with his hands. "Boom."
Harus let out a dry little chuckle, the sound brittle and strange coming from his wiry frame. "Then Alice and I will cheer you on, Night."
Sunny turned to look at him, still vaguely baffled by the whole Harus-and-Alice thing. Somehow, the idea of that pale, quiet hunchback being close to bubbly, scatterbrained Alice was… unsettling. And not in the usual way.
He cleared his throat. "What about you? Got any plans?"
Harus cracked his neck. "Wherever Gunlaug goes."
It was a simple answer, but it carried more weight than it should have. Sunny knew better than most what it meant to follow someone like that.
"And you?" Harus asked suddenly. "I know you're not going back to the Outskirts."
Sunny snorted. "Hell no. Short-term? I'll reconnect with my sister. Try and find some old {Friend}.Make some money. Maybe poke around Antarctica and see if something interesting bites back. But long-term?" He glanced at Effie. "Same as her. I'm going back in."
Finally, his gaze landed on Nephis. She hadn't said much, as usual, but he was curious.
"And you, Neph? What's the plan once we're out?"
She was quiet for a moment, watching the embers shift and glow. Her expression was unreadable.
Then, softly, she said, "I'd go visit my mother, too."
Sunny blinked, confused. "Wait—your mom? I thought she was… dead."
Nephis hesitated, then turned her face away.
"She is," she said. "Technically."
The fire popped. No one spoke.
Sunny glanced at the others. Confusion rippled across their faces, but no one interrupted.
"My mother's Hollow," Nephis said at last. "She turned while pregnant with me. I've never really met her. Just her body."
The words were flat, but the silence afterward was anything but.
"When my grandmother was alive, I treated that body like a corpse. After she passed… I got confused." She exhaled, a soft and bitter sound. "Before I left for the Nightmare, I spent the last of our estate money to get her into a proper Hollow care facility. They treat her well. But… I don't like the idea of her being alone there. So that's what I'd do first. Visit her."
Nobody said a word. The fire crackled quietly, and shadows danced across their faces.
Sunny stared at Nephis, trying to imagine it. Growing up with a shell of a mother, a vacant gaze staring back at you across the years. Death without finality. A presence that was there, but not alive. No wonder Neph hated the Spell with a quiet, ruthless fury.
She must have felt the weight of their silence. She glanced around and gave a faint, sardonic smile.
"What?" she said dryly. "First time meeting a hollowborn? Don't worry. We're rare. Even I've never met another."
Then, casually, she stretched her legs closer to the fire. "So yeah. That… and dye my hair. That's what I'd do in the real world."
Sunny blinked. "Dye your hair?"
Nephis nodded.
'Wait… does she not *like* it?'
He frowned. "Why?"
She gave him a blank look. "What do you mean, why? I'm not used to it. It's weird. Do I need another reason?"
He stared at her, still bewildered. "Wait. Are you saying it's… not your natural color?"
Nephis raised a brow. "Sunny. It's silver. Who has *natural* silver hair?"
He opened his mouth. Closed it. Thought about albinos. And elderly women.
"Uh… old people? Albinos?"
At that moment, Kai valiantly jumped in. "Actually, I thought it was natural too! It suits you perfectly, Lady Nephis."
Nephis turned to him in shock. Then slowly swiveled her gaze toward Effie.
The huntress shrugged. "Yeah, me too. I mean, who knows what Legacy genes are capable of?"
Nephis blinked, visibly thrown.
"No. It changed after my First Nightmare. Before that, my hair was black."
Kai leaned forward, his voice soft. "That would suit you beautifully, too."
But Sunny shook his head. "Nah. I think silver's better. Makes you look like a gem—something rare. Something that's one of a kind."
Cassie reached out and hugged Nephis's arm gently. "If I could see, I'd probably agree. You're perfect the way you are."
Nephis gave a small, embarrassed shuffle and mumbled a quiet thanks. But Sunny could hear it in her voice—how much it meant. She didn't show it, but it mattered.
Today, Sunny had learned not one, but two new things about someone he'd thought he understood better than anyone else in the world.
'...Maybe there *is* something to these campfire heart-to-hearts after all. Who needs swimsuits?'