In the days that followed the wave of divinity, chaos did not arrive in full. Instead, it was a slow and patient assault.
On the first day, the cohort at the settlement was assaulted by multiple Nightmare Creatures of both the Awakened and Fallen Ranks. The Awakened ones were dealt with quickly. With coordinated defense and superior positioning—as well as Cassie's warnings ahead of time—casualties were minimal at best.
The Fallen were another matter entirely. With them, the losses were heavy.
For a fleeting moment, Caster saw something rare on Nephis's face—a true grim expression.
The face of one who recognizes failure.
Changing Star of the Immortal Flame clan had failed to protect them.
Twenty-nine were dead in this attack. Some were fighters, some were simply believers in her goal. It made no difference, their bodies lay all the same.
And now, a week into the chaos, this last assault still stood as the worst.
However, they were fortunate in one regard.
Each of those Fallen had attacked alone or in packs of two. None possessed overwhelming coordination. More than that, they were Fallen-Beasts. Dire in rank, yes—but low in Class. Their intelligence was limited to that of a wild animal. They could easily be maneuvered, baited, and isolated.
They were predictable.
But predictable did not mean weak.
The gap between what an extraordinary Sleeper like Nephis could accomplish against a Fallen-Beast and what the others could manage had become painfully clear by the third day.
By this seventh, it was undeniable.
Something needed to change. But… what?
The Forgotten Shore remained vast and largely unknown. Gunlaug—bastard that he was—could not be negotiated with. It's not because he's a difficult man—no. After all, Nephis would do almost anything for her goals.
Almost.
But the truth was far simpler. She'd seen the Lord of the Bright Castle on the field himself, and because of that, it was clear that he was simply far too busy dealing with the same threats she was herself.
Gunlaug rarely strayed far from his domain, yet he had stepped out to defend it personally. And when he did, she witnessed his strength.
The golden liquid that encased his body was no ordinary tool. It was an Ascended memory at the very least—perhaps, even transcendent. It flowed like molten sunlight and formed anything he wished. Be it shields, swords, daggers or axes—it didn't matter, as long as it followed his will.
It carved through Fallen hide as if it were hard butter. It turned aside claws that would have split Nephis apart, should she take a direct blow.
Calling Gunlaug a mere sleeper did not do justice to reality.
The current Nephis? She'd be easily killed by him. But that truth did not wound her pride.
It sharpened it.
He was likely the strongest Sleeper on the Forgotten Shore.
For now, that is.
She was progressing well. The constant battles accelerated her growth. Each shard she absorbed and each of the enemies her flames consumed strengthened her core.
These attacks may be disastrous, but they are also an opportunity.
Nephis turned, raising her voice above the sound of clashing steel and distant roars.
"Everyone! Fall back deeper into the settlement! There's no time to repair the outer barricades—abandon them!"
Several Sleepers nodded immediately. Others echoed her command down the line. For all the fear and exhaustion, most were sound of mind.
That was their saving grace.
Nephis turned—
Caster was already gone. He vanished from her side, most likely off somewhere else to assist.
She watched his retreating form for a moment too long. The certainty settled deeper with each passing day.
He was the assassin. Sent to ensure she never left the Dream Realm alive.
Though her expression remained passive, her thoughts turned darker.
She would deal with that later.
Effie was already hauling debris aside, one arm lifting a slab of cracked stone that would have required three others to move. The massive warrior barked orders, shoved people into position, crushing a lunging abomination without hesitation. The large warrior was loud, brutish, and occasionally ridiculous.
But nonetheless, she was serious when it mattered.
And beside Nephis—
Cassie lingered. The blind girl stood close with her fingers lightly brushing Nephis's shoulder as if anchoring herself. There… there was something different in her posture.
'Hesitation?'
Nephis glanced down at her.
"Cassie? Is something the matter?"
Cassie lingered for a moment longer, then answered in a soft voice:
"Yes, everything's fine. Can we speak somewhere else, though? I have something important to tell you."
Nephis studied her for a moment.
"Okay."
She took Cassie's hand. Together, they walked past the wounded—past Sleepers clutching mangled limbs, some actually having lost a limb or two. Everywhere, the stone was streaked and slick with fresh blood.
They walked past the dead. Twenty-nine bodies on this seventh day, though it couldn't be compared to the losses they'd had since this chaos had begun.
The air smelled of iron and smoke.
For a moment, even Nephis felt the weight of it all press down on her.
The Forgotten Shore had changed in these seven days. And if they didn't change something soon…
They would run out of time.
[You have slain…]
[You have slain…]
[You have slain…]
'Abort! Abort mission! Holy—!'
Sunny was running for dear life.
Behind him skittered four Iron Spiders of the Awakened Rank. Under normal circumstances, he would have stalked them patiently, waited for one to isolate itself, then dismantled them piece by piece.
Under normal circumstances.
A spear whistled through the air.
Sunny twisted violently. The projectile skimmed his cheek, slicing off skin as it passed. He felt the wind of it—and how close he had come to losing his head.
"Insanity! Insanity I tell you!"
Two Awakened-Beasts stalked the rear, their grotesque bodies flexing as they launched bone-like spears from their own flesh. And behind them—
He didn't dare look again.
A Fallen-Monster…
He had no intention of confirming anything on the creature. Hell, he'd rather not see it ever again.
If not for his reflexes, his near-second movement, and his absolute refusal to die here, he would have been dead sixty seconds ago.
He vaulted over shattered masonry, rolled beneath a half-collapsed archway, and sprinted through a narrow alley he had memorized days ago. The Iron Spiders crashed after him. One leg speared down exactly where he had laid a moment prior, utterly destroying the stone.
He was breathing hard now. Sweat soaked his tunic, his scar pulling with every step.
Ahead—between two leaning structures—hung a rope.
Sunny grinned with glee. There it was—his escape.
He poured everything into his legs, wrapped his shadow around his body, and leapt.
It was reckless—for being airborne was pretty much suicide in a battle—it was desperate.
But six Awakened abominations and a Fallen-Monster were worse odds than gravity. Really, he'd rather not test fate.
His hand caught the rope. He swung wide, boots scraping stone as he arced over the alley gap. Mid-swing, he sliced the rope free.
He landed badly, face-planting into the stone. Quickly, he rolled and stumbled upright, wiping his bloodied nose.
Behind him, all four Iron Spiders plunged into the narrow gap, their metal bodies clattering as they fell into the chasm below.
'And good riddance—!'
He shouldn't have thought anything.
The next second, two spears whistled toward him.
He brought the Midnight Shard up by pure instinct. The black tachi caught the first projectile, causing a rippling impact through his arms. Fortunately, the [Unbroken] enchant on the Midnight Shard held true.
Unfortunately, his body did not.
The second spear grazed his side as the force of the first blasted him backward. He tore through the crumbling wall and crashed into a long-abandoned room. Stone cracked and shattered all around him. He hit the far side and fell through rotten flooring into the level below.
He coughed up blood.
His back was a ruin of bruised and ripped flesh despite the Puppeteer's Shroud clinging to his small frame. Blood Weave immediately woke, knitting the wounds closed.
Above, the ceiling was practically gone—but, thankfully, the angle was all wrong now. The spear-beasts could not reach him from here, much less make any sort of shot.
He was safe for the moment.
Sunny drove the Midnight Shard into the floor and tried to stand. The next moment, his legs buckled.
'Oh.'
His side… both beasts had fired, after all. The second spear had done more than graze him. Blood soaked the fabric to the left of his body, warm and very uncomfortable.
He let himself fall back.
Through the collapsed ceiling above, he could see the starless sky. Not only had he crashed through the wall—he had fallen an entire level down. Truly, for a sleeper of his modest frame, he was surprisingly durable.
With nothing else to do but rest, Sunny exhaled slowly and let his thoughts drift.
Seven days had passed since that wave of power and presence. Since it began, everything had changed.
The first discovery was one he could no longer deny.
[Regressor]. With no doubt, it is something of time-travel.
The very word felt absurd, even in his own mind. Yet the attribute existed.
He opened his runes.
Attributes: [Fated], [Mark of Divinity], [Child of Shadows], [Blood Weave], [Regressor]
[Regressor]
Attribute Description: [???]
Three question marks. The Spell literally had no explanation as to what the attribute could or should do.
And yet the moment he had truly laid eyes on it—not just glanced, but acknowledged it—everything had gone wrong.
That was not a coincidence. Sunny possessed the damn [Fated] attribute, nothing was a coincidence in this life of his anymore.
And… there was more.
During his time in the Dark Sea with Nephis and Cassie, he had behaved… differently.
The memories were blurred by all the mayhem, and the blood and chaos they had to endure, but certain impressions remained in his mind.
He had been…
'Ugh!'
He had been softer.
Not soft—he refused that word.
But more… understanding.
More willing to listen.
He remembered long conversations with Cassie in the dark, guiding her through treacherous grounds. Their hands had brushed often. No, more than that, they held hands nearly every day, despite some moments it wasn't necessary.
They had grown close.
Closer than made sense for the Sunny he knew himself to be.
And Nephis—
There had been something he said. Something that drew an expression from her he had only seen that one time. An expression of both surprise and warmth.
He couldn't grasp it.
Which led to the third problem.
When the fog over [Regressor] lifted, another fog had taken its place.
His theory was simple, and also bizarre.
If this was not his first time on the Forgotten Shore—if there had been another timeline—then its events were bleeding into this one. Or rather, his memories of that first time were overwriting his current ones.
'By the Spell… damn it!'
He could not remember much of what happened before arriving in the Dark City. Any time he tried to focus on the details, they slipped away before he could reach them.
Perhaps if he saw Cassie again…
She might know.
Suddenly, Sunny's expression grew somber.
He had barely allowed himself to think of them.
If Nightmare Creatures were this agitated near the cathedral, then the settlement must be facing something far worse.
But they would survive. Nephis was not alone. Caster and Effie stood at her side, both being more than competent fighters. She would endure.
He… he had to force himself to believe that.
Which left the second discovery.
The light beneath the cathedral, and the other one in the distance.
Two sources—two threads of fate.
Whatever light burned below the cathedral was tied to [Regressor]. He was certain of it. The Dark Knight, in fact, had not been guarding a mere statue.
And somewhere beyond the Dark City—far enough to be more than a little infuriating—another source beamed with light.
That is why he had ventured out.
He could not approach the cathedral depths without risking a meeting with the bastard of a dark knight.
So he sought the second light instead. Unfortunately, leaving this area had proven… complicated.
Truly, Sunny was in quite a pickle. He wasn't really sure what to do.
'What to do… what to do…'
He could go back to the cathedral.
The thought lingered in his head as he stepped over a collapsed beam and into the open area. His room would be waiting—all warm and comfortable. A nice soft bed, pure darkness with no windows. Four walls that felt more like home every time he visited it.
What would he do there? Sit, stare, and count his blessings while talking to the ordinary rock and his shadow.
He wasn't hungry right now. He had more meat than he could reasonably carry without looking like some feral butcher. Shadow fragments? Those were pooling inside him like dark water behind a dam. In the last seven days, he had advanced further than he had in the three weeks before that. The Nightmare Creatures kept coming, an endless tide, and he kept cutting them down.
If this pace continued for a month—maybe less—he could hit the thousand marked cap.
And then? He wasn't really sure what would happen. But he'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious, and maybe even excited. He had no idea what lay beyond it, but it was definitely a breakthrough of some sorts.
The unknown tugged at him.
Just like the light did.
He paused in the middle of the ruined road. A sudden wind whispered through the hollowed-out skeletons of buildings, carrying the faint scent of ash, smoke, and blood.
Everything hurt. His shoulders and ribs, the shallow slice across his thigh that had barely clotted before he was forced to run again.
Thirty minutes had passed since he'd laid down in that broken building, staring at nothing while his thoughts circled the same fork in the road.
Stay?
Or leave?
Staying meant safety. In the cathedral, he had the dark knight to keep any unwanted visitors away. Additionally, he knew the routes of the city, could predict—and even see danger ahead of time with shadow sense. There was a rhythm to the hunt, and he'd come to follow it. Should he follow this path, he'd grow stronger and fill his fragments.
Leaving meant uncertainty. He'd be back in unknown terrain with unknown enemies—the possibility that the light held something far more than he could handle, maybe a lure set by something far crueler than he wanted to imagine.
Yet… everything in him leaned toward the latter.
That distant glow beyond the suffocating veil of darkness. He couldn't see it from here, but he could feel it. A faint pull at the base of his skull, a pushing force behind his eyes—akin to standing near a cliff and sensing the drop.
His intuition had saved him too many times to dismiss. It had tightened its hold when a path led to a dead end, and now it was screaming for him to push onward.
It had never failed, so why would it start now?
Sunny let out a tired sigh and pushed himself back to proper posture. He felt a wave of pain, but it was something he was already used to. He sucked in a breath through his teeth and remained standing upright.
He brushed dust from his sleeves, shook loose bits of plaster from his hair, and took a step forward.
He could continue like this. He would grow stronger. Eventually, strong enough that he could conquer areas of this place.
And then what? Another cage, only larger?
Sunny's jaw tightened. It'd only been weeks since he arrived here, and he was already tired of living in circles.
He had made his decision.
He would leave.
He would gather every scrap of strength he could get his grubby hands on. He would collect every shadow fragment humanly possible. He'd take every ounce of preparation for the journey ahead. He would pour it all into getting the hell out of this godforsaken city.
Into reaching that light.
He felt a slight sense of fear pool in his stomach. And yet, the anticipation of what lay ahead followed close behind, bright and electric.
"Fine then!" He roared out.
If the world wanted to dangle something in front of him, he would chase it down like a dog and see what it was made of.
Sunny adjusted the grip on his black tachi, and instead of walking in the direction of the cathedral, he turned—
And walked deeper into the influx of Nightmare Creatures.
He had to get stronger, and he had to do so quickly.
The Bright Castle stood leaning like a tired sentinel, having long since surpassed its natural limits. Its pale walls streaked with soot and old blood. Outside them, where people rarely lingered, a group of sleepers gathered in grim silence.
At its heart knelt Gunlaug.
His transcendent Echo, a shell of cracked golden liquid, was splintered through in multiple fractures. Blood pooled inside the transcendent gold, dripping onto the amber like red ink. He had already fallen more than once. Now he rested on one knee, breath ragged, his dignity stripped bare.
Before him lay the corpse of a one-winged Cerberus. A Fallen-Monster. Its twisted maws were slack, its hide torn open, its distortion-scarred throat finally silenced.
He had killed it. No one else was capable, so he was forced to step up to the task.
A Sleeper with a fully saturated soul core. One possessing a Water Aspect. A king dragged onto dry land.
'Ironic.' Gunlaug thought while spitting out a clot of blood.
He had found his strength in the dark sea, beneath its crushing depths. There, he had been prey, yes—but a predator to some as well. Here, beneath the starless sky, he was prey that had simply refused to fall after coming so far.
Around him, hunters avoided his gaze. Not out of disrespect, but simple shared exhaustion.
Among them stood a young man in light lamellar armor. Burnished brown leather hugged a tall, slender frame, and deep blue cloth peeked from beneath, embroidered with care. His auburn hair fell in soft waves, framing a face almost unfair in its perfection. His ivory skin was unmarred but for a cut above his eye. And those eyes… vivid green, electric even in the gloom.
Kai.
He wiped the blood from his brow with two fingers, annoyed at the sting. An archer with impaired sight was a liability. He had run out of arrows long ago. The blade at his side was serviceable—but he was not.
He moved from carcass to carcass, reclaiming whatever arrows he could. Around him rose the sounds of survival: shards being pried loose, orders being barked hoarsely, laughter too bitter to be joy.
He had joined in the defense because it felt wrong not to. The Bright Castle was a fragile illusion of safety. The bastards inside its walls—the innocents too. He had fought to protect them, and that was reason enough for him.
As they trudged uphill, Kai glanced at Gunlaug. The man—though nobody could see his face—looked stripped down, drawn bare from the battle. Strongest Sleeper alive, they said.
Strong did not mean unbreakable.
Kai's expression grew more somber. More Fallen would come—perhaps worse. And he would be in the sky again, loosing arrows while others bled below.
'Coward.' He thought of himself.
But no, he was a survivor. There was no shame in it.
Seven days into this hellish nightmare—the influx of abominations made the air feel heavier.
Oddly enough, he felt… melancholy.
He wasn't sad at one specific thing. No, he was in grief for everything. Everything that would soon come to an end unless some miracle arrived.
But really? Was anyone so naive? Kai certainly wasn't. Miracles did not occur on the Forgotten Shores.
The hope of salvation—of some guiding light—was growing more fickle with every day that passed.
Hope was as fickle as a candle in a storm.
For now, it still burned.
But for how much longer?
The room was located on the far end of the settlement, distant from the chaos that had taken the walls an hour ago.
Caster stood outside, though his Memory—the Bone Flute—was located in the room's interior. It was constantly releasing a muted cone of silence that swallowed any sound that'd go astray. His jaw had tightened when Nephis asked for it, yet he obeyed anyway.
Effie was elsewhere, likely hunting for food to appease her flaw.
Inside, only two figures remained.
Nephis and Cassie knelt upon a ruined carpet, its once graceful patterns faded to ghostly messes.
Nephis faced her.
Cassie faced the sound of Nephis's breathing.
"You said you wanted to talk, Cassie?"
Cassie nodded. A heavy breath escaped her lips—and there was a hint of trembling. Thereafter followed exhaustion, fear… and grief?
Nephis allowed a fraction of concern to touch her expression. Whatever this was, it weighed on Cassie more than usual. And she wasn't one with fickle willpower.
Cassie remained silent for a while, and Nephis waited patiently until she said:
"I had another vision, a week ago."
Cassie's voice was quiet, yet steady enough to betray that she had rehearsed this moment in her mind. Her fingers were interlocked tightly in her lap. Nephis noticed the tension immediately.
"A week ago?" Nephis asked evenly. "During the first quake?"
Cassie nodded.
"It happened while we were running back to the settlement. The vision came at the same time the ground split—I couldn't tell which was worse."
A faint crease appeared between Nephis's brows. She remembered. Cassie had stumbled, shaking, whispering incoherent fragments while the rest of them fought to keep their footing.
"I wasn't asleep," Cassie continued. "I was awake. I could hear everyone shouting, I could feel the ground trembling. And at the same time… I was somewhere else."
Her empty gaze lowered slightly.
"It began with a void."
Nephis remained silent, but inwardly she repeated the word. 'A void?'
"It was complete," Cassie said. "So complete that I couldn't feel my own body. For a moment, I felt as though I wasn't human—as if I had no weight or shape to anchor my existence to."
Her fingers trembled faintly.
"In that darkness, there was a single golden star."
Her voice grew small.
"It burned like a brilliant, dreadful flame. I felt… small before it—insignificant."
Nephis watched her carefully.
"From that star, countless golden threads spiraled outward. They stretched through the void in every direction. I couldn't see where they ended. They simply spread… until they swallowed everything."
Cassie swallowed.
"Then the images changed."
Her breathing grew uneven.
"I saw seven priests drowning beneath a raging black sea. The water was thick and heavy. It swallowed them slowly, and as they sank their bodies began to twist… to merge. They were molded together into something else."
A faint tremor ran through her shoulders.
"They were whispering 'Great Star' while they drowned. Their voices were… joyful, delighted, in praise."
Nephis felt her jaw tighten, but she said nothing. Instead, she placed her hand over Cassie's—a silent touch of encouragement.
Cassie steadied herself.
"After that, I saw a single figure wearing a crown. He drew a… lavender blade? Its edge was curved, covered in glowing symbols. He raised it as if to strike…"
Her voice faltered.
"He died before he could."
Silence lingered for a moment.
"The next image showed legions," Cassie continued. "Countless people clad in red. Each carried the same greatsword. They looked proud—honored to stand where they stood."
A faint, distant sadness touched her expression.
"The land behind them was beautiful and serene. If I had to guess, it was the Forgotten Shores before it became what it is today."
Nephis did not look surprised. She had long suspected the Shore had once been something else.
"They were whispering the same word, 'Contain… contain…' And then they began to kill each other."
Nephis's grip on Cassie's hand tightened slightly.
"They were full of joy while they did it. Their blades painted the grass red. Rivers of blood formed at their feet."
Cassie's voice grew hollow.
"Pale bandages descended from above. They wrapped around every one of them, binding them together, twisting their bodies into a single… massive tomb."
She inhaled shakily.
"Then there were hands of fire."
Nephis tilted her head. 'Hands of fire?'
"They were blazing—as if someone had shaped sunlight into gauntlets. The one who bore them lifted their arms against the darkness. I felt hope in that moment."
Her lips trembled.
"But even that light was swallowed by the darkness before they could use that power."
Cassie's breathing became shallow.
"The next image… was a royal."
Her voice lowered.
"He stood with a bloodied—stolen crown upon his head, holding a torn fragment of a wing. A feather of flesh and light that poured crimson upon his hand."
She swallowed hard.
"I tried to look at the being that wing belonged to. I couldn't. My mind recoiled—utterly unable to comprehend its existence."
Nephis felt a chill creep along her spine. She wasn't the one to see the vision, yet she felt fear…?
"The royal kept whispering 'Star… Star…'"
Cassie's fingers tightened painfully.
"Then he devoured the wing."
A long silence followed.
"Just like all the others, he turned into a grotesque monstrosity. And then, moments later, I saw a radiant chain lined with cruel spikes. It might've been a serpent, but I'm not certain. All I know is that it wrapped around one of the creature's wings… and snapped it off."
She flinched.
"The sound it made was terrible. I spent the entire week prying the sound out of my mind."
Nephis shifted closer, moving her free hand to rest it against Cassie's shoulder.
"The next image…" Cassie's voice broke a moment. "It was a small girl."
Her body now… it began to shake.
"S-She was begging—crying. Cursing those around her. They called her 'Sacrifice' over and over."
Nephis gently pulled her closer without interrupting.
"She was pinned by pale spears that radiated with something unholy. She was… clutching something at her chest, refusing to let it go."
Tears slid silently down Cassie's cheek, as if she was the girl in that moment.
"Poison began to seep from her skin. It poured from every seam of her body."
Her voice grew thin.
"Then a frost-veined spear pierced her heart."
Cassie's trembling became violent. Nephis wrapped both arms around her, holding her steady, one hand rubbing slow circles against her back.
Cassie barely seemed to notice.
"After that… I saw the king again—the true king, this time."
Her voice was distant.
"He was holding someone in his arms, and he was weeping. He kept wondering how it had come to this."
A fragile pause.
"Then, the next moment, he too vanished."
For a few seconds, Cassie said nothing. Nephis continued to hold her, waiting for her to recover and speak on.
"And then everything shattered," Cassie whispered. "Blood. Fire. Wind tearing at the sky. I saw the Nightmare Creatures again, but the scenes were different."
Suddenly, and much to Nephis's surprise, Cassie's tone took on a more certain one.
"And behind them… there was a shadow."
Nephis felt her breath go still.
'…Shadow?'
"It was vast," Cassie continued. "Cloaked in black flame."
Her voice steadied.
"It struck down every creature. One by one. Each blow was fierce—it gave peace to one, silence to another, honor to the many, justice to the last."
Her body slowly relaxed in Nephis's arms.
"I think… it was Sunny."
Nephis remained perfectly still.
"But he had a golden eye," Cassie said quietly. "And the flames were black."
A faint crease formed between her brows.
"I… It's been a week, and I still can't tell you what that means."
By then, Cassie's vision was nearing its end.
"And then," Cassie finished softly, "the shadow turned toward the king… the one who vanished."
Her lips trembled faintly.
"And the world went ablaze."
The vision ended there.
Only then did Cassie seem to realize she was leaning heavily against Nephis. She jolted slightly and pulled back, a faint flush touching her beautiful face.
"I-I'm sorry!" she yelped.
Nephis released her slowly. "It's fine, Cassie."
She studied Cassie for a long moment.
"That is… a lot."
Cassie gave a weak nod. She understood what Nephis meant. Not just a lot to bear—a lot to decipher.
Nephis's mind moved swiftly through everything she had heard. A star. A king. A sacrifice. A shadow.
'Disasters,' Cassie had called them before she began to explain.
"And you believe the Nightmare Creatures are connected to those people?" Nephis asked quietly.
Cassie nodded.
"They felt… intertwined. They have clear connections to the Forgotten Shores. From every single one of them, I could feel desire—and because of the vision, I know that they were punished for whatever they desired."
Nephis pressed her fingers lightly against her temple.
"And the shadow?"
Cassie hesitated.
"I think it was Sunny," she repeated softly. "But I don't understand the black flame. Or the golden eye."
Nephis said nothing, though her thoughts lingered on a certain reckless boy.
"And the word you heard," she said after a moment. "Disasters."
Cassie lowered her head.
"It repeated during the quake. Over and over."
She hesitated.
"There was something else. Words…? I could barely hold onto them, really."
Nephis's gaze sharpened.
Cassie recited slowly, her voice hollow:
"The multitudes chant Its name as one; countless voices hail the gospel of the end. It and Its kingdom are fated to descend. The Star that fell upon the land and cursed it. Once bound by blood and reborn in darkness. Taking the form of corruption, it made its vessel anew. Born of the yearning to see those that split it apart suffer, it shaped its desire into malediction. All heretics and non-believers shall stand before Its judgment."
When she finished, the room felt many times colder.
Even Nephis felt a faint shiver trace down her spine.
'The Star that fell… and cursed the land.'
Too many fragments. Too few answers.
Cassie exhaled slowly. "…I don't understand it either."
Nephis nodded.
"For now, we continue as we have. The onslaught of Nightmare Creatures isn't ending any time soon."
She rose first, then offered her hand. Cassie accepted it after lingering a moment.
As Nephis led her toward the door, the cone of silence still humming softly beyond the walls, Cassie's expression turned somber.
'We need to find Sunny,' she thought.
'It was a mistake to let him leave.'