The moment the name left Auro's lips, something inside Sunny lurched.
It wasn't pain. Not quite. It felt like a fire, burning in his chest, spreading through his arms, and finally settling in his mind. He didn't know this man. It was the first time he had seen him. And yet, he was certain of what he was feeling toward him.
Hatred.
Pure, visceral, undeniable.
Sunny froze, his hand still clasped around Auro's. For a fraction of a second, his grip tightened without his permission, fingers threatening to crush bone and armor alike. He forced himself to loosen them before it became obvious, withdrawing his hand as though the contact itself offended him.
Auro didn't seem to notice. Or if he did, he pretended not to.
Sunny, on the other hand, was reeling.
Why?
He searched his memory reflexively, but nothing surfaced. No image. No voice. No reason. Just that same burning certainty, roaring in his chest like an old wound torn open.
He hated him.
The realization unsettled him far more than the emotion itself.
Beside him, his friend had gone utterly still. The warmth that had lingered between them moments ago evaporated, replaced by a cold, coiled tension. Her gaze was fixed on Auro now—not openly hostile, but sharp enough to cut steel. Sunny felt it like a pressure change in the air.
Auro glanced between them, red brows raising slightly. "I see I have arrived at an inconvenient time," he said mildly. "But circumstances leave little room for courtesy."
Sunny forced a smile onto his face. It felt wrong—fake and fragile—but it was better than letting whatever was boiling inside him spill out.
"Inconvenient times are the only kind we get," he replied flatly. "What kind of 'vital information' makes you interrupt people on a battlefield?"
Auro studied him for a brief moment longer than necessary. There was something cold in his gaze now, as though he were measuring Sunny against some internal standard. And the look in his eyes told him that he had been found lacking.
The scrutiny only deepened Sunny's irritation.
"The Nightmare Tide has changed," Auro said. "What you faced today was not random chance. The waves are being directed."
"Directed?" She echoed.
"Yes. By something intelligent. Ancient." Auro's voice remained calm, but the word carried weight. "Your gods need to know. Immediately."
Sunny snorted before he could stop himself. "They always do."
His friend shot him a warning look, subtle but firm. Not now.
He exhaled slowly, reining himself in. The hatred didn't fade, but it dulled—compressed into a dense, watchful knot. If he couldn't understand it, he could at least control it.
"Where did you get this information?" she asked, her tone cool and precise.
Auro turned to her, inclining his head in acknowledgment. "From a place that no longer exists."
That earned a flicker of interest from Sunny despite himself.
She seemed unimpressed. "Do you have any idea how little that narrows it down?"
Auro smiled faintly. "Then allow me to be more specific. A citadel beyond the Weeping Mountains. It fell less than a day ago."
Sunny's shadows stilled.
The Weeping Mountains were one of the most dangerous regions of the Realm, if not the most dangerous. The only settlement there had a powerful garrison, led personally by a Supreme with a way to directly contact the Twin Gods in case of need. If they were wiped out before being able to raise the alarm, then whatever they were facing was no lesser threat.
"That is indeed important information," Sunny admitted quietly.
For the first time, Auro looked directly at him again. Their gazes met—and something passed between them. Not recognition. Not memory.
Tension.
Auro's smile didn't reach his eyes. "I thought you might say that."
Sunny's jaw tightened.
There it was again.
The urge to wipe that calm, knowing expression off his face surged so suddenly that it startled him. For but a second, he considered—truly considered—throwing all caution aside and striking down the man right where he stood.
Something was screaming at him that not doing so would be a mistake. And yet, he restrained himself.
The man had done no wrong, so as much as he might despise him, he couldn't justify acting on it. However, he was certain of one thing.
Auro's mere existence was a personal affront.
"Fine," Sunny said after a moment. "You've delivered your warning. You can go."
Auro blinked, then chuckled softly. "I'm afraid that won't be possible."
Sunny raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"Besides the notice, I also have something else to deliver to your Gods," Auro said evenly. "Given recent… events, I believe the safest way to do that is to accompany you."
Silence fell like a blade between them.
Sunny felt his friend shift closer, subtle but unmistakable. It was a promise; she would back him up whatever he chose.
It warmed his heart more than he was willing to admit.
His smile returned—this one sharp and genuine.
"That," he said pleasantly, "is a terrible idea."
Auro's eyes gleamed, bright as the rising sun. Sunny had not missed the fact that throughout the conversation, his hand had been edging closer to the hilt of his weapon in preparation for the emergence of violence.
"Perhaps," he agreed. "But terrible ideas are the only kind we get, Transcendent Sunless."
Sunny's shadows curled at his feet, restless and eager.
For reasons he could not name, Sunny knew one thing with absolute certainty.
If Auro stayed, this would not end peacefully.
And whatever lay between them—forgotten or not—was far from over.
The shadows pooling at his feet bubbled, ready, awaiting, wishing to be commanded to rip the man to shreds. For an eternal second, he almost gave the order to do so.
In the end, Sunny exhaled slowly and turned around toward the city, silently beckoning Auro to follow him.
-------------------------------------------
They entered the city through a narrow service gate, one reserved for returning members of the watch. The stone there was darker, older, bearing scars that hadn't been polished away by divine whim or careful maintenance yet.
The sound of life still reached them—even if faintly.
Laughter echoed from distant streets. Somewhere, a bell chimed. The city was awake, vibrant, whole.
Sunny did not slow down to appreciate the view as he usually would.
If anything, his steps grew sharper, more deliberate. His shadows hugged close to his feet, thin and alert, stretching, watching the man following him with complete attention.
Auro followed a half-step behind, which was damning in and of itself. Or maybe Sunny was just grasping at straws to justify his distrust toward the man.
He did not try to walk beside Sunny. Did not try to lead. But neither did he lag far enough to appear deferential. It was a careful distance—measured, intentional.
Sunny noticed.
People passed them at a distance. When they saw Auro, clearly following them but all alone, they frowned, murmurs of displeasure following right after.
Auro noticed that too, his jaw tightening almost imperceptibly.
For once, somebody else was the objective of the disapproval of those fanatics. It felt almost cathartic.
Sunny almost snorted, but managed to restrain himself in time and kept walking.
The city unfolded around them in pale stone and the rays of the setting sun. Couples walked arm in arm. Families lingered near fountains. Children played games that involved entirely too much shouting and very little supervision.
It was a nice view; the bloodshed behind the walls made it all too easy to forget why he bothered to defend this city. Seeing this was all the reminder he needed.
Sunny felt Auro's gaze linger on it all, tracking movement after movement with unsettling focus.
There was wonder there, as well as joy. And yet, he could swear that he also saw guilt in Auro's eyes.
"Enjoying the view?" Sunny asked without looking back.
Auro blinked, then replied evenly, "I'm memorizing it."
That answer earned him a sharp glance.
"Why?" she asked.
"In case it doesn't look like this for much longer."
Sunny stopped walking.
So did she.
The street did not fall silent—but something shifted. A pressure settled, subtle but unmistakable. Sunny turned slowly, eyes as cold and sharp as a blade.
"That sounds dangerously close to a threat," he said.
Auro raised both hands slightly, palms open. "An observation. Nothing more."
"You travel half a realm to deliver a warning," Sunny continued, voice flat, "arrive right as the attacks of Nightmare Creatures escalate, insist on an escort to the Gods, and now speak as though this city is already doomed."
His shadows stirred, darkening at the edges.
"Forgive me if I don't find that reassuring."
Auro met his gaze without flinching. "If I intended harm, Transcendent Sunless, you would already be dead."
"That's not comforting," she said coolly. "That just means you can be patient."
Auro's lips twitched. "Fair."
Sunny scoffed. "You're either very honest or very confident."
"Both," Auro replied evenly.
Were they not surrounded by people, Sunny would have struck right there, if only to wipe that smug smile off his face.
He resumed walking abruptly. "Then keep up. And keep your hands where I can see them."
Auro did.
They didn't make it another meter before having to stop again.
The light dimmed sharply, something that the people noticed.
Conversations stopped. Smiles faded—not into fear, but wariness. The street cleared with quiet efficiency, civilians stepping aside, bowing their heads as darkness coalesced into a single figure.
The commander of the city watch stood waiting.
She was wrapped in darkness so deep it devoured all details about her appearance. Armor, cloak, face—none could be distinguished. The darkness clung to her like a living mantle, swallowing light and sound alike.
Sunny felt her attention lock onto him instantly, then onto Auro.
There was no way to guess what she was thinking behind that abyssal veil, but he was certain that she was frowning in distrust.
"Transcendent Sunless," the commander said, her voice firm, controlled, and edged with unmistakable authority. "Report."
"Returning escort," Sunny replied simply, then added almost resentfully, "with an unsolicited guest."
Her unseen gaze lingered on Auro for a long, measuring moment.
"You carry the scent of burning citadels," she said at last.
Auro inclined his head. "I failed to arrive in time to prevent one."
"Or succeeded in leaving it behind," she countered.
Sunny's shadows tightened.
Auro did not deny it. "If you believe that, detain me."
The street seemed to hold its breath.
The commander stepped closer. The darkness around her pressed inward, coiling like a restrained beast.
"You walked into a city ruled by the Divine," she said. "Surrounded by Transcendents. Knowing that one misstep would end you."
"Yes."
"That is either courage," she continued, "or foolishness."
"Those are not mutually exclusive," he replied calmly.
Sunny almost laughed. If he didn't hate Auro so much, he could almost like him.
Almost.
The commander turned to him. "You will take him to the tower."
Sunny opened his mouth.
"This is not a request," she added calmly.
Of course.
She paused, then addressed Auro one final time. "Know this: I have faced far worse than you. And if you dare to harm this city—"
The darkness shifted, growing deeper and hungrier.
"—there won't be enough of you left to bury."
Auro bowed deeply. "Understood."
The darkness withdrew but did not dissipate, and with it, the pressure. The Transcendent woman gave one last look at them, and then she vanished just as quickly as she had appeared.
The street slowly resumed its rhythm.
Sunny turned without another word and resumed walking toward the central avenue. This time, his friend walked closer than before, her shoulder nearly brushing his.
Auro followed.
As the tower rose ahead of them, impossibly tall, Sunny spoke quietly—so quietly only shadows could carry it.
"What are your true intentions here, Auro?"
Auro answered just as softly. "I have something to deliver to your gods. Whatever happens next is out of my hands."
-------------------------------------------
The tower loomed above them like a pillar driven straight through the world.
Its base was wide and unadorned, built from dark, ancient stone. Sunny had seen it countless times, entered it more times than he could remember.
It never felt any less oppressive.
They crossed the threshold without ceremony.
The air inside the tower was cooler, heavier. Sound softened, footsteps echoing in long, distant reverberations that never quite matched their movements. The door sealed itself behind them with a low, final hum that made Sunny's shadows recoil instinctively.
The first thing they saw were the statues.
They stood on either side of the vast circular hall, towering and immovable, carved from materials no mortal hand could shape. The Daemon of Choice, Nether, stood to the left—his form elegant and terrible, features caught mid-smile, eyes carved with such precision that they seemed moments away from blinking. One hand was extended, palm up, holding nothing… and everything. The other was spread in front of him, as if to grasp something unseen.
Opposite him stood the Storm Goddess.
She was all sharp lines and restrained fury, only matched by her mesmerizing beauty, her stone cloak frozen in the midst of an unseen wind. Lightning motifs crawled across her armor, veins of silver embedded in the statue itself, faintly humming with power. Her gaze was lifted, defiant, as though daring the world to challenge her might. One of her hands was spread in front of her, grasping for something.
If his friend was to be believed, it was meant to symbolize the love between the two of them. Even the cold stone, yearning for each other's touch.
It was romantic in a way.
Also kind of creepy, in his humble opinion.
Sunny didn't slow as they passed by them.
Auro did.
His steps faltered—just slightly—but it was enough. He stopped at the center of the hall, head tilting as he looked first at Nether, then at the Storm Goddess. The careful neutrality he had worn until now fractured, wonder bleeding through the cracks. Then something darker crossed his face as he looked back at the Storm Goddess. He gazed for a moment too long at the statue, then turned toward Nether's.
Auro took a step closer to the Daemon's statue, studying the carved smile with an intensity that bordered on reverence. For a moment, Sunny thought he might reach out.
His shadows twitched violently.
"Don't," Sunny said coldly.
Auro stopped immediately, hands lifting once more in that infuriatingly placating gesture. "I wouldn't dare."
But his gaze lingered.
Too long.
His friend stepped closer to him instead, her presence steady and grounding. "You seem very familiar with them," she said.
Auro finally turned away from the statues. The wonder dimmed, replaced by something older. Heavier.
"I've had reason to be," he said.
That was not an answer.
Sunny turned and headed for the spiral ascent without waiting, boots striking the polished floor with renewed purpose. The stairs curved upward along the inner wall of the tower, broad enough for a dozen to walk through at the same time, though only the three of them climbed now.
With every step, the pressure increased.
This was a test, meant for any who dared to petition the gods for an audience. It wasn't a matter of strength—he had seen Mundanes succeed and Transcendents fail the ascent—but of will. The higher one climbed, the more the world itself pushed back—testing, measuring, judging. Sunny felt it press against his soul like a familiar weight. He adjusted without thinking.
Auro's reaction was… different.
Most, when faced with the pressure for the first time, reacted in some way. Maybe a hitch in their step; some would freeze, while others would stumble. He had even seen a poor fellow cry out like a slaughtered lamb—whatever that was.
But Auro? No reaction. He met the pressure like it wasn't there.
Either he was a very strong-willed individual, or he was far stronger than he pretended to be. Maybe both.
The steps stretched on, each turn revealing more runes carved into the stone—names, oaths, victories, failures. Some glowed faintly as Sunny passed. Others remained dark.
If the rumours were to be believed. They could predict your past and your future.
Auro glanced at one particular inscription and stilled when it flashed brightly.
For the briefest moment, something like pain crossed his face.
Then it was gone.
Sunny saw it anyway. The rune for "War" had lit up.
He narrowed his eyes, but did not comment. He could always ask later.
They reached the final step at last.
Before them stood the doors to the upper floor—vast slabs of pale metal inlaid with divine sigils, humming softly with restrained power. Beyond them lay the court of the Twins.
Sunny stopped.
His shadows spread, forming a thin, living line between Auro and the doors.
"This is as far as you go alone," Sunny said quietly. "From here on, every word you speak will be weighed. Every breath judged."
Auro met his gaze steadily. "As it should be."
Sunny searched his face one last time—for deception, for malice, for anything that would justify the hatred burning in his chest.
He found none.
It only made it worse.
With a sharp gesture, he signaled the doors.
They began to open, light spilling out moments after—brilliant, merciless, divine.
"We welcome you to our domain," Vaelkar greeted them warmly.
"What is it that you must tell us, young man?" Liriel continued smoothly.
The gods were seated on the same throne. The throne was a single seat split by nature itself: one half forged from ivory metal that resembled a cloudy sky, the other carved from deep, translucent crystal that flowed like still water. Clouds curled and drifted around its upper spires, while a constant, silent tide moved beneath its base, reflecting the sky above. Where the two halves met, sky and sea blended seamlessly, bound by an ancient harmony neither could claim alone.
Auro stepped forward and bowed deeply, a perfect show of respect that nonetheless seemed rehearsed.
"I bring grim news, and an even grimmer object for you to witness," he replied deferentially.
Vaelkar's eyes narrowed, the sky held within them darkening minutely. "Show us the object first."
Auro straightened, and after taking a measuring look around the room—there were only a few attendants besides them inside—he extended his right arm.
Space split, and he plunged his arm inside. A spatial Aspect? Or maybe a powerful artifact?
When he pulled it out, a cylinder made of dark metal that seemed to reject all light around itself was firmly grasped in his hand.
Right after the object appeared, the world around them dimmed, as if something profane had been invoked merely by the presence of the mysterious item.
All traces of levity disappeared from the faces of the Gods. They shared a look, and not even a second passed before they turned back toward them.
"All of you, leave. The messenger can stay," the Twins said at the same time.
They moved even before the sentence had finished. The divine authority in their voices made it clear that they weren't asking, and that there would be a great price to pay if anyone challenged the order.
Sunny, followed by his friend and the other attendants, left the throne room.
As he did, the sensation of foreboding that had been prickling at his senses since he first set eyes on Auro spiked. He clamped down on it. No matter how dangerous the man could be, the Twins could squash him like a bug.
-------------------------------------------
"Tell me a story," his friend asked.
Sunny rolled his eyes. Was she a child or something?
It had only been three minutes since they were asked to leave, and she was already bored. Currently, they were lounging on the floor below the throne room, quietly enjoying some refreshments while they waited for further instructions from the Gods.
Whatever that sinister object was, it was bad news. Even if it wasn't, the fact that a citadel had been destroyed just like that meant they had some serious danger to contend with. Better to stay here and find out as soon as possible.
Since they had nothing else to do but wait, he had been enjoying the quiet while sipping from the apple juice one of the attendants had kindly prepared for him. Or at least, he had been until she decided to pester him.
"No."
"Please."
"No," he reiterated. Then a thoughtful look appeared on his face. "Why were you so quiet anyway? It's unlike you to stay so silent."
She looked aside. Sunny did not miss the clenching of her fists.
"I don't like that man. He gives me a bad feeling," she replied.
Sunny nodded thoughtfully. "Same."
"I answered one of your questions. It's only fair for you to tell me a story now."
What a shameless friend he had.
Sunny shook his head in fond exasperation, took another sip from his drink, and tilted his head in thought.
"What was the last one I told you?"
"It was one about some man named Sisyphus, I think," she replied, then added, "Still can't remember who told you those stories of yours?"
Gray eyes and silver hair flashed in his mind, but the image was gone as soon as it appeared, leaving a faint feeling of wrongness behind.
"No."
She nodded. Maybe it was just his imagination, but he could swear a glint of glee appeared in her eyes at his denial.
"Have I told you about Odysseus before?"
She hummed in thought, then shook her head.
"Odysseus was a hero in an ancient war. In that war, many heroes of great power could be found. Achilles, with an Aspect of an indestructible body. Diomedes, so ferocious that even the God of War was wary of him. Ajax, who was as strong as a giant. Odysseus was not the strongest, and not the bravest. However, he was the most cunning."
The faint but unmistakable scent of salt assaulted his nostrils, and for but a second, he was not in the tower, but atop a hill, a dark abyss hanging above and in front of him…
Sunny shook his head and continued. "In the end, Odysseus's cunning ended the war, and he prepared to sail home. However, the gods cursed him to endlessly wander the seas, never to return. Over the years, he survived one horror after another and lost all of his companions. Then, shipwrecked, he found himself on an island where the beautiful fairy Calypso lived."
A wistful tone invaded his voice as he spoke. It was a story dear to him. Or maybe the one who had told it to him was.
"Calypso fell in love with Odysseus and invited him to her palace. For many years, they lived together in harmony. The island was like a paradise, filled with all kinds of wonders, delicacies, and delights. As long as loving Calypso was by his side, Odysseus was even immortal. But… the longer he stayed, the more time he spent sitting on the shore, looking at the sea with bleak eyes."
His fists clenched involuntarily, a deep stab of wrongness assaulting his mind. For but an instant, the world frayed at the edges, almost undoing itself.
Then the instant ended, and the world reasserted itself.
Sunny continued, unaware of what had almost transpired. "In the end, Odysseus built a makeshift boat and abandoned the island, leaving all its delights, the beautiful fairy, and even his immortality behind."
He stopped, then whispered, "Why do you think he left?"
She stared at him intently, her hand moving to grasp his free one in a firm yet gentle grip.
"I don't know. He had everything he could ever ask for on that island with Calypso. There is no reason anyone would ever leave," she replied at last.
Sunny smiled at her, yet it felt fake. Brittle and fragile.
"Why do you think he left?" she asked.
He stared at her for a moment, but unable to hold her gaze, he turned toward one of the many tapestries on the far wall. Almost appropriately, it depicted a ship braving a titanic storm.
Prodded by his flaw, he answered, "I'm not sure myself. Maybe… maybe he loved his wife and son so much that he couldn't handle the thought of being separated from them a minute more." It sounded weak even to his ears.
Her grip tightened.
Sunny, paying no heed to that action, continued. "You know? At times… I also feel like Odysseus."
"What do you mean?"
Sunny spoke, giving voice to thoughts he didn't even know he had. "I too am lost in a distant land. Only, unlike him, I don't have a home to want to return to. I have nothing to strive for, apart from saving my skin. What do I have if I go back? Friends who have already forgotten me? A sister that has never needed me? Another who revealed my darkest secret yet still dared to act like nothing was wrong? The one whom I love and hate in equal measure?" His voice hitched as he spoke, chest tightening painfully.
Not giving her a chance to intercede, he asked another question. "Can someone really be lost if they don't belong anywhere?"
He chuckled, low and bitter.
"Maybe you are right to be skeptical. I'm nothing like Odysseus. At least… at least he had something to come back to."
He chuckled once more, eyes burning with barely contained tears.
"Why do I keep doing this? Why do I survive? Why do I keep trying to live?"
Was it spite, as he had said earlier in the day? It played a big part. But he was certain that it wasn't all there was to it.
She opened her mouth, ready to deliver words of comfort. It was one of the things he liked most about her, but this time, it didn't feel right.
However, whatever she was about to say was interrupted by the sudden quake that engulfed the tower.
Right after, a terrifying presence descended on them, emitting such pressure that they were instantly flattened to the ground.
It was… it was Liriel's. But it felt wrong—dark and rotten.
Vaelkar's presence made itself known, clashing against Liriel's for but a second before both of them disappeared from their senses.
They exchanged a look, then instantly darted toward the stairs.
-------------------------------------------
They burst into the throne room at the same time. It made for a ghastly sight.
Pillars lay broken like snapped bones. The floor had been torn open, marble fused into glass by lightning and divine will, then split apart by surging water and impossible force. What remained of the throne was scattered across the chamber—twisted metal, cracked crystal, and fragments still humming with unstable power. The air reeked of ozone and salt, heavy with silence, as if the room itself were stunned by the memory of gods turning their wrath upon one another.
A pained groan could be heard, and from the wreckage of one of the pillars, a figure rose.
It was Auro. His armor had been torn apart, his face and body covered in deep gouges from which blood poured out like a fountain. And yet, miraculously—impossibly—he was still alive.
The reason why was held within his left hand. It looked like an orb, one that glowed with undeniable divinity.
It was a thing of beauty—or at least it must have been before resisting the damage it had received. Deep cracks covered it, growing by the second, until at last the orb fractured completely and turned to nothing.
And with the orb's disappearance, whatever had hidden his true power was gone too.
Auro was a Supreme; there was no doubt of that.
The man finished rising to his feet, form shaky but growing steadier by the second.
"What have you done?!" Sunny roared.
Auro looked at him, his expression completely calm, at odds with what had just happened.
"I delivered my message and the object. Nothing more, nothing less," he replied evenly.
The shadows at Sunny's feet stirred violently, taking on nightmarish shapes, ready to leap onto the wounded Supreme.
"Don't pretend that this has nothing to do with you, you bastard!"
Auro did not seem fazed, merely shaking his head, as if disappointed by his reaction. "I am a mere messenger. It's not my fault that they couldn't handle what I delivered."
Sunny's blood ran cold in pure horror.
Auro believed what he said. He was completely convinced that he bore no blame for what had happened.
"What was it that you delivered?" she asked in a steely voice, her eyes burning with pure, unadulterated fury.
He turned toward her, the same calm expression on his face. "I only know that there was information inside, but not what kind," he replied honestly. "Had I known, they would have realized what it was meant for and smited me on the spot."
"You corrupted a divine being," she said, voice disbelieving at the sheer nonchalance of the man before them.
Auro shook his head. "As I said before, I only delivered an object. It's not my fault if they couldn't handle it properly." Then, almost as a second thought, he added, "Everything I did was for a just cause, I assure you."
"She was the protector of this realm! Millions of lives depend on her and her brother. What happens if she dies? Hell, what happens if she wins against Vaelkar and comes back?!" she roared angrily.
Auro shrugged. This time, Sunny noticed that despite his apparent nonchalance, guilt shone through.
"A necessary sacrifice," he replied in the same calm voice.
There was guilt there, yes, but he had still done it.
"YOU—"
"Don't bother. He truly believes that he did nothing wrong. And if you convince him, he will just consider it a sad but necessary sacrifice," Sunny interrupted, then added in an ironic tone, "Isn't that right, Auro?"
If he noticed the sarcasm in his tone, he did not acknowledge it. "My cause is just, and as such, every action I take striving for it is just too."
Sunny laughed bitterly, the shadows shaping themselves into armor and their weapon of choice.
"Ah, so I have a hero before me."
A terrifying quake could be felt once more. This time, the whole realm felt it.
The Twins were fighting, and the aftershocks could be felt all the way here.
"I better leave before any of them have the chance to come back," Auro muttered and took a step forward—only for the exit to be covered by a wall of shadows.
Sunny smiled dangerously. "What makes you think that we will allow you to leave?"
She smiled no less dangerously. "Normally, I don't enjoy fighting. But this time, I will."
Auro did not look scared. "I hold no animosity for the two of you. Move aside, and you may yet survive."
Sunny merely quirked an eyebrow, as if asking whether he truly meant that.
Auro exhaled softly and, in a swift move, unsheathed his sword. "I will try not to kill you if I can."
He took a step forward, only to stagger in surprise as his eyes grew heavy all of a sudden.
They had not been talking just because they liked the sound of their own voices. No, her aspect needed time to work on those who were stronger than her, and they had to buy time.
Fortunately for them, powerful as he was, Auro did not seem capable of sensing what she was doing and had fallen for their stalling attempts.
Sunny was about to dash forward, ready to deliver a lethal strike. He would have done it, had his instincts not screamed at him to stop.
Auro's will erupted like a broken dam, suffocating the room under it. Just a second after, he recovered, the drowsiness gone from his expression.
Of course, it couldn't be that easy.
"Can you still make him fall asleep?" he asked quietly.
"I think so, but I will need time," she replied just as quietly.
Sunny nodded, and right after, all of his shadows coiled around him, multiplying his power sixfold.
The darkness surged—
—and was cut apart.
Sunny felt it before he saw it. Auro's sword moved, and the shadows recoiled as if a nerve had been severed. The blade did not merely slice through them; it carved a clean absence, a corridor where darkness refused to exist. Sunny's dominion over the shadows buckled, entire sections collapsing as space itself rejected his authority.
Auro stepped forward through the ruin.
Blood ran freely from his wounds, soaking into shattered marble, yet his presence only grew heavier. Each step sent a ripple through the throne room, like a bell struck harder the more it cracked.
"You're forcing me to hurry," Auro said, voice calm but strained. "That is… unfortunate."
He vanished.
Not in the way Sunny did—not by slipping through shadow, but by outrunning perception. One moment he was several meters away, the next his sword was already descending.
Sunny barely managed to sink into shadow in time.
The blade cleaved through where he'd been, the cut extending far beyond its arc, splitting pillars, floor, and air alike. The throne room groaned as reality struggled to stitch itself back together.
Sunny re-emerged behind Auro, striking low—
Auro twisted, elbow snapping back with brutal precision.
The blow connected.
Sunny was sent flying, his shadow armor shattering as he crashed through a fractured wall and skidded across the floor. Pain blossomed hot and sharp, his vision blurring as he forced himself upright.
Stronger, Sunny realized grimly. Far stronger.
Auro didn't pursue immediately.
He swayed.
Just slightly.
His sword dipped, scraping stone. His free hand clenched, knuckles white, as his eyelids fluttered. For a heartbeat, his posture slackened—
Sunny seized it.
Shadows erupted from beneath Auro's feet, binding his legs, coiling upward like serpents. Sunny teleported again, appearing above him mid-fall, blade raised for a decisive strike.
Auro's eyes snapped open.
Will exploded outward.
The shadows froze—then shattered—as if crushed by an invisible weight. Auro's sword rose in a blinding arc, meeting Sunny's weapon head-on.
The impact was catastrophic.
Sunny felt his arms go numb as the force blasted him away yet again, slamming him into the far end of the hall. His weapon dissolved, his armor flickering weakly.
Auro landed heavily this time, boots cracking the floor beneath him.
He staggered.
One step. Then another.
His breathing was uneven now, chest heaving, blood dripping steadily from his armor. He planted his sword into the ground to keep himself upright, head bowed as if the weight of the world pressed down on him.
Behind Sunny, she pressed harder.
The air thickened, heavy with the promise of rest. Sleep crept like fog, subtle and insidious, gnawing at Auro's edges rather than striking outright.
Auro laughed quietly, hoarse. "Persistent… both of you."
He forced himself upright again.
With visible effort, he tore his sword free and advanced, movements slower now—but still terrifyingly precise. Each step closed distance Sunny struggled to reclaim, each swing demanding absolute focus just to survive.
The shadows surged again—
—and were torn open.
Auro's sword moved in a short, economical arc, and a fault line appeared in the darkness itself. Sunny felt the recoil tear through him like a snapped tendon. His control shuddered, large swathes of shadow unraveling into useless smoke.
Auro stepped through the breach.
His movements were no longer effortless. His breathing rasped, and blood soaked his ruined armor. But his presence—his will—was overwhelming, pressing down on Sunny like a mountain that refused to fall no matter how fractured it became.
"You're slowing," Auro observed, voice calm despite the strain threading through it.
Sunny wiped blood from the corner of his mouth and smiled thinly. "Funny. I could say the same."
Auro lunged.
Sunny vanished into shadow an instant before the blade arrived. He reappeared above, below, behind—each time forcing Auro to turn, to strike, to expend. Blades of shadows, chains, spears manifested in rapid succession, not to kill, but to distract, to bind, to delay.
Auro cut through them all.
Each strike grew heavier. Each movement more deliberate. He was bleeding more now, his steps leaving dark stains behind—but with every wound, something inside him burned brighter, harder, sharper.
Sleep pressed down on him.
Heavily.
Relentlessly.
His steps faltered—once.
Then he forced himself onward.
His sword struck Sunny's shadow armor head-on, and this time it didn't shatter immediately. Sunny braced, teeth gritted, bones screaming under the pressure.
Auro leaned into the clash, face pale, eyes blazing with defiance.
"You think you can best me?" he asked quietly.
"I do," Sunny answered just as quietly, focus completely dedicated to predicting his next move.
Auro laughed almost deliriously. "I have been fighting for centuries. Never once have I faltered. Never once have I rested. It doesn't matter what stands in my way, what action I have to commit. Until justice is delivered, my will will not be denied."
The pressure intensified.
Sunny felt it—the cost of resisting Auro this long. His shadows thinned, movements slowing, teleportation growing sloppy at the edges.
Behind him, she staggered.
Sunny felt it and twisted instinctively, throwing a wall of shadow between her and the battlefield just as Auro's next cut cleaved through the space she had occupied a second before.
She gasped, clutching her chest.
Blood trickled from her nose.
Sunny's heart lurched. "Stop," he hissed. "You're killing yourself."
She didn't answer.
She straightened instead—slowly, painfully—and pushed.
Her power surged again, far stronger than before, but raw now. Unstable. The air thickened, gravity seeming to tilt toward her as sleep deepened, no longer creeping but demanding.
Auro staggered.
Both knees bent.
For the first time, his sword slipped from perfect alignment.
Sunny struck.
Shadows wrapped around Auro's arms, legs, torso—layer after layer, dragging him downward. Sunny teleported in close, blade forming in his hands for a killing thrust—
Auro roared.
His will erupted outward like an exploding sun. The shadows screamed as they were blasted away, Sunny thrown back violently as the throne room cracked under the pressure.
Auro stood.
Barely.
His posture was broken now, shoulders slumped, chest heaving. Blood poured freely from too many wounds to count. His eyelids trembled violently, darkness clawing at the edges of his vision.
And still—
He did not fall.
Behind Sunny, she cried out.
Not in pain but in defiance.
Something broke.
The pressure in the room inverted, collapsing inward toward her. Sunny turned just in time to see it—her Aspect no longer straining against the limits imposed on it, but shattering them outright.
Her presence changed.
It deepened.
Expanded.
The air bent around her as if acknowledging a new axis of authority. The concept of sleep itself seemed to answer her call, no longer borrowed or forced, but commanded.
She rose to her feet.
Auro looked at her then, truly looked, and for the first time, something like awe crossed his bloodied face.
Sleep fell like a verdict.
Not sudden. Not gentle. Absolute.
Auro took one final step forward, sheer stubbornness carrying him where strength no longer could. His hand reached out, fingers trembling, sword clattering uselessly behind him.
"…Not yet," he whispered.
Then his knees struck the floor.
The shadows surged instantly, binding him completely—but this time, they weren't the ones holding him down.
Sleep claimed him.
His eyes fluttered once, twice—then closed.
Silence followed.
Sunny stood frozen, chest heaving, staring at the fallen Supreme who had refused defeat until the very end.
With what little essence he had left, a sword manifested above Auro.
He could have delivered a speech, decried his hypocrisy, screamed at the monster whose actions might have very well condemned the whole realm, and yet proclaimed that his cause was just.
In the end, he did none of it. It wasn't worth it.
The sword fell without ceremony, and Auro's life ended.
Then he turned slowly to her.
She swayed—and Sunny was there in an instant, catching her before she could fall. The pressure around her receded, leaving behind something vast and terrifyingly powerful.
A Supreme.
She laughed weakly against his shoulder. "Told you… I just needed time."
Sunny held her tighter, shadows trembling around them both.
Above, the realm still shook with divine war.
He chuckled. "You did."