Sunny saw time flow in reverse.
Countless years passed in a matter of seconds, the lone tower watching somberly over the circle of nothingness that held it prisoner. Around it, the rain flowed upward, returning home to the heavy clouds hanging above.
He was forced to watch this for what felt like hours on end, seeing how the scars slowly but surely disappeared, as if paint was wearing off. The carvings on the tower came back to life, filled once more with meaning—yet one that was beyond him. The stone it was made of lost the damage etched into it by time, slowly recovering from the scars left by the elements.
At last, when the tower, which before seemed to stand only due to stubborn pride, once more looked like a magnificent landmark, there was a change in the passage of time.
It was almost jarring. One moment, what felt like months passed in seconds, and now, it was reduced to what felt like just minutes.
Then, something even stranger happened. Time buckled and reversed.
He was high up in the sky, a starry night above him, the moon shining on him so brightly that he could feel tears prickling at his currently non-existent eyes. It was... the first time he had seen it in years.
Its light felt like a promise of salvation, like finding a safe shelter under the rain, like eating for the first time after starving for days.
Below him, a magnificent city rested, countless torches shining as if it were another starry sky. However, something was wrong with it—like some sort of sickness he couldn't see but could perceive.
And was that...? Yes, right at the edges. On the city walls, hanging above them, there was some sort of silvery barrier, completely sealing off the city. He tried to take a better look, but he couldn't move from his position.
Then, someone appeared beside him, and he forgot all about the barriers.
It was... he couldn't even begin to describe them.
He tried, over and over, to focus on the figure in front of him, but each time his mind grasped at details, they slipped through his fingers like water. The person was there, right in front of him—just close enough to feel their presence—but every effort to define them, to pin down their features, left only a haze.
It was like looking at living mist, hazy and incorporeal. The only thing he could tell with certainty was that the being had the shape of a woman. One with wings.
The woman-shaped haze turned around and stared directly at him, as if she could sense him despite the fact that he shouldn't even have a body at the moment.
He wasn't completely sure, but he almost felt like... like the shape laughed bitterly upon noticing him?
Then, the woman turned around and stared at the beautiful city below them. She raised her arm—or was it a leg? One of her wings? It was impossible to tell through the haze—and just like that, without any fanfare or proclamation, the city below disappeared in a circle of nothingness, a single, lone tower left standing.
There was a long second of silence, one in which horror flowed through him unimpeded.
Had he blinked, he would have missed it. One second, it was there, and the next, the city had disappeared.
There was no flash, no big explosion, no drawn-out battle.
The woman had simply willed the city to be gone, and that was what happened.
Then, the second passed, and his soul screamed in pure terror and elation.
The moon and the stars disappeared, devoured whole by a shadow of a magnitude he couldn't even begin to ascertain. The shadow didn't stop there—it flooded the world under its mighty presence, painting it black.
For one fraction of a second, he was alone with the hazy woman, and the next... the next, a being of shadow appeared. His non-existent eyes hurt upon setting sight on the living shadow, as if they weren't made to witness what was in front of him. They couldn't even penetrate through the mantle of shadows despite being able to see in them.
It felt... it felt like the shadows covering the being were looking down on him? "Who are you to dare gaze at us?" They seemed to say.
The shadow gave him a brief look, one filled with complicated emotions, then looked away, dismissing his presence as inconsequential.
Then, the living shadow and the woman-shaped haze exchanged words. Angry ones.
He couldn't hear what they were saying, and even if he were able to, he was certain he wouldn't understand it either.
It didn't matter, for mere seconds after, they engaged in battle—one whose opening move almost unraveled his mind.
When Sleepers fought, they brought out their weapons or their aspect to bear. As far as he had seen in the webtoons he liked to read, it was the same for Awakened and Masters. When it came to Saints, they usually transformed spectacularly—and dramatically—and then clashed.
The two beings? The world bent, a loud keening wail of agony seemingly coming out of it, followed by their disappearance from sight. Yet he could hear thunderous clashes taking place all around his incorporeal self.
Mercifully, time buckled once more, and he witnessed what was probably the aftermath of the fight.
The land had been savaged beyond repair. The many mountains that surrounded the city were gone, some reduced to rubble, others erased out of existence itself. Deep lines, resembling those he had seen during his travels, were etched in the ground—just as deep and unfathomable as the ones he had seen before. Even more so, perhaps.
And yet, despite the cataclysmic battle that had taken place, the lone tower was still standing—worse for wear but still whole. Protected behind it, he could see fields of verdant green grass, having survived against all odds thanks to resting in the shade of the tower.
The dark veil that covered the world receded, the living shadow revealing itself once more. It gave him another stare, one filled with regret and disappointment, and then it was gone.
For a long time, nothing happened.
Hours went by before something came out from the depths of the nothingness. It was... the Unholy Titan he had met so long ago, although at this time, it was still just an Unholy Monster. During the battle, it had stayed beneath the circle of nothingness, hiding in fear of the two beings he had just seen engage in battle.
His mind, even with the help of the [Mind Weave], still couldn't process it. There was nothing but a hole in the fabric of the world where it passed. Soon it settled in the skies just above him, and the rain started to pour down, just as unrelenting as it had been during his travels through The Tears.
Time buckled for a third and final time, and he was once more staring at the city.
It was still nighttime, the moon shining merrily, completely unaware of what would come to happen. The barriers sealing off the city were up, but he had the feeling that it was earlier in the timeline than when the woman had erased the city.
Then, he felt his stomach drop—a bizarre sensation considering that he didn't even have a body at the moment—and he started to plummet.
The distance between himself and the city disappeared in a matter of seconds, and in no time, he could see it in detail.
From above, the city seemed to breathe, its labyrinth of winding streets and shimmering lakes laid out like the veins of an ancient creature. The lakes, dark and still, cut through the city like veins of glass, their mirrored surfaces reflecting the polished stone of the buildings that flanked them.
The moon cast long shadows across the landscape, lighting up the stone facades of the towering edifices, which gleamed as though they had been scrubbed clean just hours before. Each structure, with its tall, thin spires, seemed to rise with an elegant defiance, cutting through the mist like spears poised against the heavens. From up there, he could see how the city's gleaming exterior was only a layer—a thin veil over something much older, something darker.
Dominating it all, like a watchful giant, was the tower. Its massive, jagged form loomed above the city, stark against the sky, its height both awe-inspiring and unnerving. The tower seemed to command the world below, the space around it empty, as if none dared to stand beside it. It stood at the city's center, its surface inscribed with carvings that went beyond his comprehension, catching the light just enough to make it shimmer like the surface of a blade. There was a sense of foreboding in the way it stretched upward, as though it held knowledge that no mortal could grasp.
His gaze wandered further, taking in the intricate patterns formed by the parks and the paths that twisted like veins between the mansions. The greenery, though soft, was sharp in contrast to the cold, unyielding stone of the architecture. Each element of the city—every tree, every lake, every spire—seemed to belong to a different age, caught in a moment just before or just after something important had happened, something that he might never have the chance to understand.
Then, the distance reduced further, and he didn't have time to appreciate the view any more.
A cathedral came into sight, radiant and well-cared-for, its design reminiscent of the Temple of the Twin Gods.
He kept falling and was met with the strange sensation of going through the roof as if he were a ghost. A vast hall came into view, just as beautiful as the one in the Temple, though he didn't have time to appreciate it before he collided headfirst with the crystal-clear pool of water resting in the middle of it.
Not again!
Sensation rushed back at him, shocking, cold, and merciless. He sputtered, fighting desperately against the water.
So shaken was he by the revelations faced that day that it took him a shamefully long time to realize that... the water was only knee-deep.
"Thank the dead gods nobody saw this," he muttered beneath his breath and stifled a yawn that came out of nowhere, then glared at his snickering shadows.
He shook his head and got up, only to realize a shocking detail upon looking at his reflection.
"Why do I look like myself?"
It was true—the face that stared back at him in the surface of the pool was his own, not even a line or pore out of place. His height, his weight, skin tone, hair and eye color, even the length of his nails were exactly the same.
Weren't challengers supposed to get different bodies when facing a Seed of Nightmare? Maybe it was an exaggeration? Fake information?
No, Teacher Julius had been the one to tell him that, and if he trusted something, it was the fact that the old teacher would rather die than provide wrong information.
Which still left him with the mystery of why he was inhabiting what looked like his own body. He scratched his head and then shrugged. He wouldn't forget about the matter, but there were more important things to focus on at the moment.
Feeling the creeping cold, he finally left the pool—even his equilibrium was the same. Just what was going on?—and stared at last at the hall.
The analysis he had done before was correct. The room looked just like the one in the Temple of the Twin Gods. The only difference being the pool of water instead of the raised platform of glass and the fact that there was a third statue.
Standing before the pool—which put it between the statue of the Sky God and that of the Water Goddess—there was the statue of a woman. Except that where the others, for lack of a better term, seemed to be worn out, this one looked pristine and unmarred by the passage of time.
The woman depicted on the statue was beautiful beyond words, her stony gaze inducing a strange sense of calm in him. He couldn't avoid feeling some sort of kinship toward the woman, as if they had some unseen relation.
"The Lady of Sorrows?" he asked himself.
She was the only notable figure he knew who belonged to the ancient city, and the murals had depicted her as a figure of veneration, so he felt like it was a fair assumption. A mystery he would have to leave for later.
He stifled another yawn and opened his runes. It was as good a time as any to review what he was working with.
[Name: Sunless.]
[True Name: Lost from Light.]
[Rank: Dreamer.]
[Class: Terror.]
[Shadow Cores: 6/7.]
[Shadow Fragments: 1/6000.]
He smiled despite himself; it had taken him a year to achieve his Monster core, and here he was, just a year and a half later, having reached his Terror core already.
[Memories: Silver Bell, Puppeteer's Shroud, Midnight Shard, Ordinary Rock, Prowling Thorn, Endless Spring, Dark Wing, Moonlight Shard, Weaver's Mask, Bow of the Lone Hunter, Safebox of Greed, Mask of Lost Echoes, Wrathful Might, Shadow Lantern, The Essence of Combat, Crown of Wrath, Ring of Sorrow, Shadow Chair, Fancy Knife, Lie Detector, Warming Rock, Cooling Rock, Painkiller Rock, Shadow Cloth, Read This.]
Sadly, his list of memories had taken a serious hit. Transcending Saint had taken a great amount of them, and he sacrificed many that he couldn't see much use for anymore, like the [Broken Oath], whose soul damage was so minimal that he never ended up using it.
Quite annoyingly, he had received none worth keeping during his travel to Aleras. At least, thanks to weaving, he was starting to refill the list. So far, he had focused on making utility memories like the warming and cooling rocks, since the few enchantments with offensive utility in Weaver's book were far too complex to master yet.
He had also started upgrading some of his memories, like the [Midnight Shard] and [Puppeteer's Shroud], to Ascended. If there was something he didn't lack, it was shards.
[Shadows: Marble Saint, Soul Serpent]
[Attributes: Beloved Child of Fate, Flame of Blasphemy, Child of Shadows, Blood Weave, Endbringer, Stone Shell, Soul Weave, Bone Weave, Flesh Weave, Mind Weave, Spirit Weave]
[Aspect: Shadow Slave]
[Master: Changing…]
That was it—impressive for a Sleeper but all too little for a third nightmare.
He cursed inwardly. What was he thinking?! Of course, he couldn't tell the category of the Seed! He had never seen one since being infected by the Spell!
"There goes my dream of a quiet, lazy life as a memory and café shop owner," he muttered bitterly.
It was already unlikely that he would be allowed to go back into obscurity after beating a Second Nightmare as a Sleeper. But a Third one? With how rare Saints were? Not a chance.
He was lucky that it was just a third nightmare instead of something even stronger.
Lucky?
Who was he trying to fool? Beating a second nightmare as a Sleeper had already been an absurd expectation, and here he was, facing a challenge that even elite Masters dreaded with all of their soul.
Humanity as a whole didn't even have fifty Saints, and that wasn't due to lack of trying.
"Ah well, just another impossible achievement to add to the list, right, guys?"
His shadows gave him a stare that could only mean 'You are doomed.' Even the Happy guy had joined in on it.
One of the few times the seven of them agreed on something, and it was for this. Honestly...
Wait... seven?
He counted again, and yes, he did have seven shadows.
[Shadow Cores: 6/7]
[Shadow Fragments: 1/6000]
He checked the runes and saw the same number of cores. He was still a Terror, there was no doubt about that. And yet, inexplicably, he had seven of them.
Except, that the seventh was different. It gave him a strange sensation, like it was caught in a twilight state, somewhere between the shadow of an object and that of a living being.
He also couldn't control it in any way. It was completely inert, like it didn't belong to him.
Where did it come from? Was it the original shadow of the body he was inhabiting, perhaps?
He stifled another yawn and decided that he could deal with that question later.
Sticking to the shadows, he moved to leave the cathedral to see what he was facing. When he reached the doors, he saw that they were slightly ajar, allowing the passage of a small beam of light through.
He carefully approached and then peeked through the opening, only to retreat immediately as silently as he could, his heart beating like a drum.
"There is a Corrupted Beast sleeping right outside," he whispered to himself, almost as if the world would realize the ridiculousness of the situation and make the creature disappear.
He peeked again, and the creature was still there. Figures.
At least it was still asleep.
Impossibly, he yawned again, his eyelids dropping like they were made of lead.
He was stuck in a third nightmare as a Sleeper. For assistance, he had only Serpent —an Ascended Terror — and Saint —a Transcendent Demon. Among his memories, the only transcendent ones were the safebox, which, while extremely useful, did not provide him a way to fight back, and the [Crown of Wrath], which, while incredibly powerful, if he were to use it, he might as well sign his death warrant.
He was on a time limit before the hazy woman would show up to erase the city. Which meant that he would either have to solve the scenario before or find a way out of the city, and he suspected that the second option was quite unlikely to happen.
Right outside the door, there was a Corrupted Beast, and with his luck, he suspected that it wouldn't be the only one in the nightmare.
To cap it all, he was quickly falling asleep, probably due to some sort of mind hex.
"Damnation," he summarized to himself.
He only had time to summon Saint before he fell asleep.
-------------------------------------------
"Doofus..."
He heard the voice as if it came from afar or as if there were a wall between them.
"Doofus..."
"Sunny!"
A hand grabbed his shoulder roughly, and he snapped awake, his eyes coming into contact with Effie's hazel ones, which had a worried look on her face.
"Doofus, what's wrong? I've been calling you for five minutes already."
He looked around, his gaze slowly taking in the café.
It was warm inside, the walls painted in soothing colors. The café was small, cozy, perfect for a peaceful ambiance. There were only six more clients inside, a few of them giving him a worried stare before going back to their drinks.
That's right, he was Awakened Sunless, the proud owner of 'Sunny's Brilliant Emporium: Memories and Café.' He dispelled the scenario he had been daydreaming about—him challenging a Third Nightmare? How absurd—and then squashed the feeling of something being wrong.
He smiled reassuringly. "Sorry, I must have spaced out."