"I will," he said. "So first — stop that."
She made a small, shaky sound against his shirt, but the tears kept coming.
Sunny exhaled tired all the way down to his bones, in the specific way that only arrived after something very large had been fully spent.
They were both so stupid. So relentlessly, completely stupid, to have hurt each other this much while loving each other this much.
He hadn't wanted her to end up like this. He had never, not once, wanted to make her cry.
"It's not too late." he said.
Simple. No drama. No speech.
Just the truth, worn thin after everything they had already said tonight which was more than enough truth for one evening and probably several subsequent ones.
He kept his thumb moving, slow and careful, wiping the last traces from her cheek.
"I'm not going anywhere," he added, quieter. "I didn't tell you I love you just to walk away five minutes later. That would be really fucking stupid, even for me."
A tiny, broken exhale left her almost a laugh, almost a sob. Almost both.
The ache in his chest intensified. Warm and sharp at the same time.
"I'm happy," he admitted, so softly it barely qualified as more than a breath. "I'm genuinely happy that you said it back. That you want this too. That we're actually trying to understand each other, finally." He rested his chin lightly on top of her head. "But I'm also exhausted. You're exhausted. We're both running on nothing right now."
He was quiet for a moment before he continued.
"This doesn't fix everything. I know that. You know that." He said it without harshness just plainly, the way he said things that needed to be said without decoration.
"The Bond is still there. Some days the voice in my head is going to be loud and I'm going to be an asshole about it, and sometimes I'm going to point the anger in the wrong direction. I can't promise I won't. And I still want the exit, if I find one. I need you to know that this isn't going to change."
"I know," she whispered against his chest. Her voice was steadier than he expected. "I want that too. It's not a condition. It's just… what should be. " A pause. Nephis reached out and caught the fabric of his armor, her fingers tightening in a firm, silent grip. "And I'll do everything I can to show you that what I said tonight is real. That I intend to work for this. That we can move forward. Together."
He was quiet for a moment.
He wasn't entirely sure, even now, what he wanted. Part of him wanted freedom so badly it was a physical thing. Another part the louder one right now, with her pressed against him, he knew he would rather have her than have freedom, if losing her was the price. He didn't know which one would win tomorrow, or the day after.
He only knew he didn't want to lose this. Not tonight.
Not after they had finally said the things that had been lodged between them for years.
He knew what that meant, too. He would have to do the work, same as her. He couldn't keep feeding the chain with his own resentment and then blame her for the weight of it. Choosing her, really choosing her, meant becoming someone who could stand beside her without waiting for the next betrayal, without treating every moment of warmth as something that was going to be taken back or was calculated.
That was terrifying.
But it was also the only thing that felt right.
"Yeah," he said finally, voice rough. "That sounds good." He paused. "I think tonight made it fairly clear that we're both idiots. But we can try. I want to, actually."
He felt her relax against him just a fraction, just enough. The tears had finally slowed.
A few moments passed in the particular quiet of two people who have said everything and are learning, for the first time, what it feels like to simply be in the same room without the weight of all the unsaid things pressing down on them.
Eventually, Sunny said: "By the way… how about we sit? I'm getting tired."
He was exhausted. She was exhausted. They both were.
Nephis straightened slowly.
He looked at her then really looked.
Her eyes were red and slightly swollen. A few strands of her usually immaculate hair had come loose, falling softly across her cheek. Without thinking, he reached up and tucked the stray lock behind her ear with careful fingers.
She didn't pull away. She didn't tense. She simply let him, calmer now, the sharp edge of the evening finally beginning to soften. For the first time tonight, she looked not fragile, Nephis was never fragile but reassured. Something had settled in her that hadn't been settled before.
They shifted together a small rearrangement, the natural settling of two people who have been through something large and are now figuring out where to put themselves afterward. They ended up side by side at the side of the bed, hands still loosely intertwined, backs against the cabin wall, the lamp between them casting its steady light.
He summoned the [Endless Spring].
Clear, cool water appeared in a beautiful bottle made of patterned blue glass, and he offered it to her first, without comment.
She took it.
"Drink slowly," he murmured. "You've cried a lot."
She obeyed, taking small, careful sips. He watched her until some color had returned to her face, then accepted the glass back and drank himself. His throat had been painfully dry for longer than he'd noticed.
They sat for a while after that side by side, hands still linked, the quiet hum of the ship surrounding them.
"So," Sunny said eventually, his voice curious and somewhat cautious, like a man testing the weight of a bridge before crossing it, "how does that work, anyway? A relationship, I mean."
Nephis was quiet for a moment, choosing her words with her usual care.
"I've never really imagined this," she said at last. "Even when I wanted something with you it felt... strange. Foreign. My past made it difficult to picture." She paused. "And being with you specifically… it always seemed so distant. Almost impossible." A faint pause. "Until tonight." A faint, quiet smile of satisfaction touched her lips small, almost shy, but undeniably there.
Sunny nodded, letting her words settle before he spoke.
"I'm not going to pretend I'm any better equipped," he said, with the small shrug of someone acknowledging an obvious truth. "I'm from the Outskirts. We weren't exactly a feelings forward community. The general cultural attitude was more along the lines of survive first, examine internal states like never?"He paused. "I have genuinely no idea what I have to do now."
"Neither do I," she said.
"Right."
"Right."
They considered this together in comfortable silence which was itself something new, and neither of them pointed it out.
"Well," he said after a moment, "at least we're evenly matched in our incompetence. And when we get it wrong because we will we don't treat that as evidence it was a mistake to try. We discuss it."
Nephis turned her head slightly against his shoulder.
"That's surprisingly reasonable," she said.
"I have my moments. But let's not forget what we're working with," Sunny continued, a hint of his usual amusement returning to his voice. "Two people with no idea what they're doing, both terrible at expressing how they feel about the other, an undesirable Bond attached, one haunted by a cursed memory that makes him spectacularly insecure, the other with a catastrophic fire ability."
"My fire ability is not catastrophic," Nephis corrected calmly. "I have perfect control over it."
A beat.
Sunny grinned. "Neph. My projector."
She went quiet.
He turned his head to look at her, eyebrows raised in genuine, long awaited accusation.
"By the way, why did you even do that? What did my poor projector ever do to you? It was sitting there, perfectly functional, contributing to me in its small humble way."
Nephis remained serene, her head resting against his shoulder, offering nothing.
Sunny narrowed his eyes, thinking. He had wondered about this for longer than he would admit.
"Was it because of a film?" he ventured.
No response.
"A film with a romance."
Still nothing.
He pressed forward. "A film with a beautiful girl with silver hair and a certain Legacy that I killed?"
Nephis stayed perfectly still. Which was, he had learned, its own kind of answer.
Sunny let out a delighted laugh genuine, surprised, warm.
"A Song of Light and Darkness." He shook his head slowly, grinning. "You destroyed my projector because you got angry over a fictional romance between you and Caster." He looked at her with great fondness and absolutely zero mercy. "That's actually kind of adorable."
Nephis lifted her head just enough to look at him.
"Adorable," she repeated, with the flatness of someone who was not amused.
"Very," he confirmed. "Alright. I forgive you for the projector. That was clearly a proportionate response."
"How graceful of you," she murmured.
"Besides," he continued, clearly enjoying himself far too much to stop, "Now that I think about it you fell for me twice, didn't you? Once as Lord Mongrel and once as the actual me." He tilted his head with theatrical magnanimity. "As a special exception, you may become the very first recipient of an official Lord Mongrel autograph. I could arrange—"
She was still holding his hand. Without breaking her composure, she pinched the back of it firm enough to make her point, gentle enough to be only technically aggressive.
Sunny yelped sand laughed louder.
"Alright, alright! Message received!"
Nephis resettled against his shoulder, but the spark of satisfaction in her expression was unmistakable.
"Anyway," Nephis said lightly, a faint spark of amusement hidden behind her usual composure, "I will get my revenge soon enough."
She let the words linger for a moment, tilting her head slightly as she looked at him.
"After all, they will surely make a film about the Devil of Antarctica one day. With everything that happened there… your reputation had become quite large." A small pause, then she added, almost sweetly, "I'm looking forward to seeing it."
Sunny narrowed his eyes, already sensing where this was going.
Nephis continued, voice perfectly even.
"You could go with a beautiful girl with silver hair," She trailed off for half a second, the corner of her mouth twitching. "Or perhaps you could take Saint and make a proper evening of it?"
Sunny's face instantly twisted into pure surprise and an unfiltered outrage.
"What?!" He sat up straighter, staring at her in disbelief. "You want me to go get publicly executed?! I'll be ambushed the second I walk in journalists, fans, random people asking about my abilities, what really happened with Lady Mongrel—" He shook his head vigorously, ears already turning red. "Absolutely not. I refuse to watch that thing in public. If it's with you, and we both wear cosmetic memories so no one recognizes us… then yes, obviously. But as myself? Standing there answering stupid questions? Never. I would prefer entering the Fourth Nightmare right away than deal with that circus."
He stopped, breathing a little harder than necessary.
Nephis watched him in silence for a long moment, her silver eyes calm and faintly luminous in the low light of the cabin. There was something very deliberate in the way she looked at him now quiet, knowing, and just a little pleased.
"So," she said softly, almost too softly, "you want to watch that film with me… that much."
Sunny froze mid-breath.
He looked at her.
She looked back, unblinking, the smallest trace of satisfaction curving her lips.
"You..." He pointed at her accusingly. "You're the one who suggested it first!"
"Was I?"
"You were talking about yourself, weren't you? Don't act like there are dozens of beautiful girls with silver hair I'd want to take to the cinema!"
Nephis tilted her head with perfect innocence.
"Is that so?"
"Yes! You literally just described yourself!"
"I simply mentioned a beautiful girl with silver hair," she replied, voice smooth and entirely too calm. "That's could be anyone."
Sunny stared at her, mouth slightly open, caught between indignation and the sudden realization that he had walked straight into yet another one of her traps.
"Don't play this game, that was an invitation and you know it," he muttered, lowering his hand but not quite able to stop the faint flush creeping up his neck. "C'mon Neph. You can't just say something like that and pretend it's not what it is."
Nephis didn't answer right away. She simply held his gaze a little longer, the quiet amusement in her eyes deepening.
The cabin felt smaller, warmer, and far too comfortable for the amount of teasing she was dishing out.
The banter settled into something quieter after that easier, the comfortable kind that didn't require effort to maintain. Somewhere along the way Sunny summoned the [Covetous Coffer]. There wasn't much left inside: a few fruits, some dried provisions, nothing special. He spread them out between them on the bed without ceremony.
They ended up sharing an improvised meal in the lamplight, the ship rocking gently beneath them.
The food was nothing remarkable. It tasted better than it had any right to.
Sunny didn't say it out loud, but he had no particular desire to leave. This small cabin felt like something he had wanted without knowing how to name it quiet, and close, and warm, with her beside him. The real world was still out there: the Third Nightmare, the Bond, all the things that were unresolved and would remain so. Stepping outside meant rejoining all of that. In here, none of it had arrived yet.
From the way Nephis remained pressed gently against his side, in no apparent hurry to create any distance between them, he suspected she felt the same fragile reluctance. Neither of them mentioned it. They simply let the night stretch a little longer.
"I'm going to have a headache," Sunny said eventually, in the tone of a man contemplating a natural disaster, "by tomorrow morning."
Nephis glanced at him, her expression composed.
"Why?"
"Effie."
He said the name with the resigned gravity of someone who had planned a nice outing only to check the weather report and realize it was going to be a total disaster.
A small silence.
Nephis followed the thought to its destination and something moved at the corner of her mouth brief, involuntary, almost suppressed.
"I can imagine," she said quietly.
"We won't even have to say anything," Sunny continued. "She'll look at us, figure it out in approximately three seconds, and then she will be extremely happy about it in the loudest possible way for the longest possible duration. And I literally cannot lie, and I can barely make pointed comments and I can't use effective way of shutting her up because she's pregnant." He paused. "She's going to ask me exactly what happened and I'm going to have to tell her that I delivered the worst confession in documented history."
Nephis raised one eyebrow slowly, with great precision.
"The worst confession in history?"
Sunny groaned and dragged a hand down his face.
"Yes. Obviously I meant every word of it. But who confesses like that? I had better things I could have said. Nicer things. Things that weren't essentially a list of complaints about everything." He shook his head. "It was terrible. I should apologize."
Nephis watched him for a long moment, her gaze steady.
"Then do it again, the confession." she said. "If you want to."
He blinked. "Right now?"
"Why not?"
A short, nervous laugh escaped him. "No… Not tonight. Please. If I try to produce something in this condition, it'll be worse. Way worse."
A faint smile touched her lips barely there, but entirely real.
"Very well. I will wait."
She paused, and when she continued her voice had gone somewhere quieter, something that landed without weight but meant considerably more.
"But you should know, I loved your confession. It was very you." Her silver eyes held his without wavering. "That's part of why I fell in love with you. If you began performing, it would be strange."
Sunny went still.
He wanted to say something clever. His mouth produced nothing for several seconds. Eventually he managed:
"...You're not embarrassed to say that with a straight face?"
Nephis considered this with great seriousness.
"My face has its uses."
He stared at her.
She waited.
He exhaled.
"Jet will probably be reasonable about it," he said, mostly to have something to say. "Just a quiet congratulations, I'd guess. She's that kind of person."
"Cassie," Nephis said.
The name landed differently. Quieter. Heavier, with edges.
Sunny went still.
She watched the change move through his face the specific quality of a stillness that was not calm but decision. The face of someone choosing, carefully and deliberately, what not to say.
"She either already knows," Nephis said, "Or she will thanks to her visions. Or—" She paused. "She may have been listening."
Sunny looked at the wall.
"She was," he said, voice even. "She always is."
Nephis said nothing.
"I'm not talking about her tonight," he said to the wall, quietly. "I've said more tonight than I've said in, I don't know how long, never? And I still have things where she's concerned that I haven't worked through. Things I'm choosing not to examine right now."
A breath.
"So. Not tonight."
"Alright," Nephis said.
"I'm not trying to—"
"Sunny." Her voice was steady and unhurried. "Alright."
He looked at her.
Something in his face released fractionally. He had half-expected her to push. She hadn't.
"Thank you." he said.
"There's nothing to thank me for."
He almost argued. Then didn't.
The quiet settled back around them, easier now. Outside, the last light had shifted from grey-blue to the deeper blue of evening pressing in at the porthole. The ship moved beneath them, patient and steady, indifferent to everything in the cabin.
Sunny let a beat pass.
Then his lips curved.
Sunny leaned back slightly, a small, mischievous glint appearing in his eyes. He had clearly just spotted an opportunity and wasn't about to let it pass.
"Concerning Kai…" he began, his voice carrying the particular tone of someone who knew exactly what kind of harmless chaos he was about to stir, "he'll probably be genuinely happy for us. Knowing him, he won't even make it weird. He'll just smile that perfect stupid smile and perfect face of his, congratulate us politely, and maybe even offer to write a song about it or something. He's not the type to cause drama."
He paused, letting the thought hang for a second before his grin widened.
"Which means… should I ask him to get you an autograph? Since my girlfriend is apparently too shy to ask her favorite idol directly... that's the role of the boyfriend to help, no?
Nephis turned her head and studied him for a long, unhurried moment.
"I wasn't expecting those last word," she said finally. "But it's true. We are a couple now." A small pause. "Although I have some doubts about the nature of this generous offer."
Sunny raised an eyebrow.
Even he was a little surprised by how smoothly the word "girlfriend" had slipped out. It felt… natural. Strange, but natural. He was going to have to get used to this. And if he was being honest with himself, he should probably start preparing for Effie to attack him the second she found out.
"What do you mean?"
She regarded him with the steady patience of someone assembling evidence.
"I know you enjoy using your Flaw. Especially with Kai. So… is this purely for your girlfriend like you said? Or are you also planning to enjoy yourself at his expense in the process?"
Sunny's grin widened. He didn't even consider denying it.
"Both," he said, without hesitation. "Definitely both."
Nephis stared at him for one more second, silver eyes narrowed just slightly in the way that was equal parts amused and exasperated, and then she shook her head once slowly, in the manner of someone who made a decision and does not regret it but fully sees it clearly.
"How kind of you." she said.
"I'm being a supportive boyfriend while making sure my best friend doesn't fade into obscurity. Efficiency is key in the Dream Realm!"
She shook her head again. But she was, unmistakably, not displeased.
The conversation drifted after that lighter, easier, the kind that moved without effort. Small observations about the Third Nightmare, cautious comparisons between their time apart during the Antarctica Campaign, the occasional comfortable silence that neither felt any need to fill. Nothing heavy. Nothing that required guarded words or careful distance. Just the two of them, gradually learning what it felt like to simply be in the same space without everything between them requiring management.
This quiet space felt like a delicate illusion a sweet, impossible dream that he had secretly wished for more times than he cared to admit. He had dreamed of moments like this with her before, quiet and close and warm, and he suspected she had dreamed of them too. Stepping outside would mean waking up. The real world was far crueler, full of sharp edges, unspoken things, and constant danger. Here, inside these four walls, none of that existed yet. From the way Nephis remained pressed gently against his side, reluctant to put any distance between them, he was almost certain she felt the same fragile fear: that if they left this cabin, the dream would break, and reality would steal this moment away.
Neither of them mentioned it.
They simply lingered there, sharing the modest meal in peaceful quiet, letting the night stretch on just a little longer inside their fragile, stolen dream. At some point Sunny produced the last of the provisions from the Covetous Coffer and they finished them between them. Nothing notable. He noticed that she ate with the focused appreciation of someone who had been genuinely hungry, and found this, privately, very satisfying.
He had no desire to leave.
He suspected she didn't either.
"If you need to use it."
He said it quietly, to the porthole, to the water darkening beyond it.
Nephis didn't answer immediately. He felt the shift in her beside him not tension, but a sharper attention, entirely oriented toward him.
"The Bond," he clarified. "If you genuinely need to. I want you to hear this clearly, because I'm saying it once."
"I'm listening," she said.
He turned his head just enough to see the side of her face, the soft ambient warmth of her fire touching the line of her jaw.
"If it's the only thing standing between either of us and dying and I mean genuinely, with no other option remaining use it." He met her eyes. "But no noble last-stand self-sacrifice bullshit either. Because watching you die while I couldn't move would destroy me. I would either choose death afterward or have to draw you back from the Shadow Realm, just so we're clear."
He swallowed once.
"And if you ever decide for me again the way you did on the Crimson Spire, when I'm right where I want, when I say I don't want to, then we're done." He said it without heat, without theater. "Not out of anger. Just done. Trust broken past what I can rebuild. I don't have a second time in me for that particular thing."
The cabin was very quiet.
Nephis looked at him for a long moment. Her silver eyes were wide and steady and pained, and completely clear.
"I understand," she said. Quietly, but with a certainty that had no performance in it.
"Good."
"And I swear," she said softly. "I will never decide for you that way again."
He nodded once. Then, after a beat, his expression shifted the specific shift of a man who has said something serious and is now protecting himself from the weight of it with a small, calculated piece of ridiculousness.
"Also. Tit for tat."
She blinked.
"If you ever use it even once, even for something genuinely dumb or by mistake then five seconds of absolute control for you means five seconds for me afterward. Equal consequences. Balance restored."
A long beat.
Nephis stared at him.
Her expression moved through several subtle stages, none of them fully committed, before arriving at something carefully neutral that was doing a great deal of work.
"You really are a pervert. » she said.
Sunny sat up straight with the specific indignation of a man who has been unjustly accused of something, again.
"What?! I didn't say anything perverted! I was specifically talking about balance and how to deal with the Bond."
"You spent the last thirty seconds," she said, with measured calm, "negotiating a framework under which I would be required to obey you every time I make you obey me." She tilted her head, and something in her silver eyes looked dangerously close to mischief. "That's not balance. That's you wanting five seconds of me under your direct authority."
"Then don't give me orders in the first place! And if you do, I would've asked for something normal like a meal made by you, or the exact same thing you ordered me to do in the first place!"
"So you're telling me," she said, with great patience, "That you haven't imagined a single alternative application for those five seconds?"
Sunny opened his mouth.
Closed it.
His ears, which had long since given up any pretense of discretion, went hot.
"I hadn't," he said, with great dignity, "until just now, because you put it in my head!"His tone shifted immediately after, the words laced with clear embarrassment and a hint of flustered annoyance. He sounded defensive, almost sulky, which only made the situation worse.
"I simply asked a question you know?"
"You asked that specific question to exactly have this result and you know it, and you are deeply evil, and I—" He pressed a hand over his eyes. "By the dead gods, you are an absolute nightmare. You little fire gremlin."
She laughed.
Small. Quiet. Entirely real and the warmth of it hit him exactly the same way it had the first time tonight, like something arriving without warning and taking up more space than expected.
"But you love me right?" she said, the laughter fading into something softer. "And you were right it really does seem like you're incapable of confessing without saying something poor in the middle of it."
"I do," he said, muffled. "Regrettably. And you are evil. I want it formally noted that you use my Flaw to win arguments and this violates every principle of fairness."
She made a small sound against his shoulder.
"Your complaint is noted," she said, still technically laughing.
"Thank you."
"And dismissed."
"Of course it is."
He felt the laugh against his shoulder small, warm, and real. He stayed where he was. He had decided, at some point in the last several minutes, that he was going to take all of it. The Bond, the complications, Effie's inevitable enthusiastic response, the silence that still existed around Cassie, and every imperfect, clumsy attempt they would make going forward. He had spent long enough knowing what the alternative felt like.
He would take all of it.
The laughter faded naturally, the way good things do not cut off, but spent, settling back into the warm quiet that had become, over the course of the evening, the texture of being here with her. They had ended up shoulder to shoulder again without marking the moment it happened, her head resting against him in the way that had long since stopped being a statement and become simply a position.
He was looking at their joined hands when she spoke.
"Then can I use the Bond right now?"
Sunny gave her a long, considered look. The question had arrived a little too smoothly, with a little too much composure, immediately following a conversation about its use.
"That timing is extremely suspicious, Neph."
She met his gaze with that particular silver-eyed steadiness that had always made him feel, unpleasantly, like she could see further into him than he had intended to show.
"You shouldn't doubt me," she said. "I only have your best interests at heart."
He exhaled through his nose, already feeling the argument slipping away from him.
"I'm listening."
Nephis straightened slightly.
"Should I try to get rid of the [Sin of Solace] for you?"
The words landed quietly. Sunny went still.
He had spent considerable effort not thinking about that possibility.
Using the Bond had always felt like something he would never resort to... not until tonight. And using it on something inside his own mind felt especially wrong. Invasive. Like handing someone the key to the darkest corners of your soul and trusting them not to map every inch of it.
But she had also just promised to think carefully every single time, and she was offering to use the one tool available to do something he genuinely needed done, she was asking, not ordering and she was looking at him with those eyes that did not contain a single trace of calculation.
He swallowed.
"In theory," Nephis continued, measured, "I don't want to use it. I would hate it. You would hate it. And I have absolutely no desire to end up obligated to obey whatever you come up with for those five seconds afterward."
"You'd better stop right there," Sunny said, "or I won't just arrange Kai's autograph I'll really schedule an entire honest conversation between the three of us where you physically cannot lie and we'll see who's embarrassed then. It's a price I'm ready to pay."
Nephis did not visibly react. Her expression remained perfectly calm, almost serene.
But Sunny knew better. She simply continued exactly where she had left off, as if he hadn't spoken at all.
"In theory, you cannot disobey any command I give. And the [Sin of Solace] is something inside you. A part of you. So—" She tilted her head slightly. "It should be possible."
She didn't phrase it as a question. She simply stated it, calm and patient, giving him all the time he needed to think. There was no pressure in her voice, no expectation hanging in the air. She simply waited, silver eyes steady on him, allowing the silence to stretch as long as necessary.
Sunny rubbed the back of his neck, his paranoid brain already working overtime to assemble every worst-case scenario it could find. The idea of using the Bond on something inside his own mind still felt like pointing a loaded weapon at his own skull. It was deeply unsettling.
But this was Nephis.
And if there was even the smallest chance…
"Yeah," he said, voice rough. "Try it."
She gave him a single small nod. Then:
"Where is he?"
Sunny gestured at the corner of the cabin.
"Right there. Same place he always is. Been watching us like a silent audience all evening." He looked toward it directly. "You've got nothing to say? Really? No final remarks? Nothing clever?"
The silence stretched.
And then, from somewhere inside him dry, unhurried, entirely unbothered:
"See you soon."
Sunny went still.
Nephis noticed immediately.
"Did he finally say something?"
"Yeah," Sunny said, his voice flat. "See you soon."
She looked, not at the empty corner, but at Sunny clear and direct.
"I will help you as many times as it takes," she said quietly. "However many times he comes back. Whatever tries to put itself inside your mind without permission, I will remove it with your autorisartion. Every time." She paused. Then, with a finality that had nothing performative about it: "That is my promise."
Sunny felt his pulse quicken.
He swallowed once, then gave a firm nod.
"I'm ready," he said quietly.
She drew a slow breath.
"I order you, [Sin of Solace] be destroyed. Erase yourself completely from Sunny's mind, leaving no trace, and you should never return."
The absence was sudden.
That was what surprised him most not a gradual fading, not a dissolution. One moment the presence was there, that familiar weight in the corner of his eyes that had become so constant he had stopped measuring it, and then it simply wasn't. Like a tooth pulled cleanly from the root. The space where it had been felt raw and strange and remarkably, disconcertingly quiet.
He exhaled.
"That… He's not here anymore and that was not a normal disappearance." He turned to look at her. "I'm guessing it worked?"
"I hope so." A single nod, satisfied. "But the last thing he said concerns me. If he returns, I'll do it again. As many times as you need."
Sunny felt a reckless grin tug at the corner of his mouth the specific kind that appeared when something huge had gone unexpectedly well, and his brain hadn't caught up to the appropriate gravity of it yet. The last time had been when he stole the kill of the Remnant of the Jade Queen from Tyris… though, to be fair, he'd also recently stolen the Defiled Seeker of Truth from her. He'd probably have to apologize to her someday. Maybe throw in a discount on a Supreme memory as compensation.
He had lived with the [Sin of Solace] for months. Months of that constant, mocking voice in his head, twisting every thought, feeding on every insecurity, using Nephis as a weapon. It had become background noise, a part of him he had learned to endure, even hate.
And now it was just… gone?
Just like that? With a single order? No struggle, no resistance, no epic battle inside his mind?
Just Nephis's voice, calm and absolute, and the bastard vanished like smoke.
He couldn't believe it.
All this time… the solution had been that simple? Trusting her? Letting her use the Bond not to control him, but to protect him? The very thing he had feared and resented the most had just freed him from the thing that had been tormenting him the longest. The irony.
It felt too easy. Too clean. Too good to be true.
He hated the Bond. He still did. But right now… he couldn't deny the overwhelming relief flooding through him.
Then a new thought hit him.
"So I'm basically immune to mind hexes now?"
Nephis's brows drew together.
"What exactly are you thinking?"
"I'm not saying I'm about to charge into every creature that uses them," he said, still riding the relief like a wave, "But I'm invincible to that kind of thing now, right? In theory?"
She exhaled through her nose half sigh, half something that was almost a laugh.
"That would require me to be beside you at all times." Her tone turned dryly precise. "A rather unusual way of asking me to be glued to you constantly, don't you think?"
Sunny understood the implication immediately and returned it without hesitation.
"Coming from someone who moved into my house like it was the most normal thing in the world and then started wearing my clothes without asking," Sunny said dryly, "you sure have a lot to say about me wanting to spend time with you."
Nephis didn't blink. She let her expression soften into something that was technically fragile, silver eyes very slightly wide, the corner of her mouth doing something that implied hurt feelings with great craft.
"I was scared," she said. "I was lost. I chose to be with you because I trusted you." A pause that lasted exactly the right amount of time. "And this is how you treat me."
Sunny crossed his arms.
"I'm not getting played this time."
"I have no idea what you mean," she said, with full composure.
He pointed at her.
"If you want to move back in with me, just say it clearly."
She tilted her head with elegant nonchalance.
"I don't need to. I have a considerably larger house, besides."
"So you want me to come live with you?" Sunny scoffed, injecting a heavy dose of theatrical outrage into his voice. "You may not know this, but I'm a prominent entrepreneur now. Extremely popular, even. Government funded, in fact. And when they inevitably make that ridiculous film about me which I'll have to suffer through I'll turn it into merchandise. So much merchandise that every shelf in every store will be drowning in it. I'll even write reports about Antartica myself to make sure they don't butcher my character this time."
He straightened up a little, clearly getting carried away.
"So, I can and will build a house even bigger and more beautiful than yours."
Nephis's lips curved into the smallest, most precisely calibrated smile.
"So, let me get this straight," she said, her voice soft as honey and twice as dangerous. "You want to be the man of the house. Provide the income. Come home every day to your beloved and generously offer me a better home so we can live together?"
She paused, letting the words hang in the air like a blade wrapped in silk.
"How adorable."
Sunny opened his mouth.
Closed it.
The cabin was quiet except for the soft creak of the ship and the faint lap of water against the hull. He stared at her. She looked back, entirely serene, silver eyes carrying that particular warmth that she had spent years learning not to show and was now, apparently, no longer particularly concerned about hiding.
And for the first time in a very long while, Sunny found he had absolutely nothing to say.
Which, given the evening they'd had, felt like exactly the right way to end it.