Sunny wandered deeper into the skin of Nocturnum. Here, the sky didn't stretch—it closed in, pressing down like the weight of unresolved sins. The air around him buzzed with something that felt alive. Not wind. Not energy.
Emotion.
Every breath was heavy with the sorrows of others. His own memories twisted with them, blurring the line between past and present.
Then—crack.
The glassy ground beneath him split, and he fell.
Not downward—inward.
He crashed into a cold, endless room. No walls. No ceiling. Just a horizon made of thorns and reflections. A voice greeted him.
"You've entered the First Trial."
A figure rose in front of him—identical to Sunny.
But this version had eyes that bled light, and a grin carved by cruelty.
"You must defeat your truth to survive Nocturnum."
Sunny clenched his jaw. "You're not me."
The clone smiled. "No. I'm what you'll become... if you keep lying to yourself."
The duel didn't begin with fists. It began with memories.
A vision slammed into him—his father's broken body after revealing the objects to Amon. His mother's tearful goodbye. His brother Berzilus, burning—yet embracing the girl who betrayed him.
Sunny staggered.
The clone didn't attack. It watched.
"You hate Amon. You blame him. But deep down... you wonder if your father was the real reason everything collapsed. You wonder if you were too weak to stop any of it."
"Shut up!" Sunny shouted.
"You think pain makes you worthy. But pain alone makes you empty."
With a howl, Sunny lunged—but every punch missed. The clone was faster. Smarter. Because it knew him.
Finally, the clone whispered, "Use the power. You've inherited it, haven't you?"
Then it appeared in Sunny's hand.
The object.
Small. Ancient. Alive.
The artifact his father created.
A power unlike any weapon: it didn't destroy. It rewrote.
But it only worked… if people wanted to change.
Sunny hesitated.
He heard Kael's voice echo from memory:
"And when this object was forged, a second was made. One that could erase memories. But its price is cruel—you will lose someone you love... or fall into eternal suffering."
His hands shook.
Should he erase this truth?
Should he forget the pain?
Or face it and rise?
With a scream, he rejected both.
He didn't use the object.
He accepted the pain.
The clone shattered.
Not from a blow.
From understanding.
And from the void, a new mark appeared on Sunny's chest—glowing faintly like a star cracking through ash.
Veyra's voice whispered once more:
"Congratulations. You've passed the Trial of the Broken Sky. But this is only the first flame."
Above him, one of the distant Starborn opened its eyes for the first time in centuries.
And smiled.