"What rank is your Aspect?"
Nephis flinched.
It was subtle—barely a ripple in the stillness—but Sunny noticed.
Of course he did.
Nothing escaped his shadow senses.
Not at this range.
They sat opposite each other, chairs coalesced from darkness.
Sunny studied her.
He had decided, long ago, that she would be strong.
Stronger than before.
Stronger than the regret he carried.
Last time… last time they had lost. Saints, yes—mighty ones—but saints nonetheless.
And in the face of Sovereigns, they had been mere frogs in the well.
Now he bore that rank. Sovereign.
Now he would not mourn.
He would not kneel.
Not again.
And neither would she.
He breathed out, slow and weary. Her silence hung between them like a drawn blade.
She was conflicted.
Sunny already knew the answer. Her Aspect was Divine.
He didn't need her to say it.
But he needed her to trust him enough to say it.
"Nephis," he began, gently. His voice was soft. Softer than she'd ever heard it. "Let's make a trade."
Her gaze flicked toward him.
"I'll tell you something important. In return, you answer me. And when we're done…"
He smiled, just faintly.
"I'll give you a gift."
She didn't speak.
She didn't need to.
She nodded.
"My flaw." he said simply.
And that—that—made her eyes widen. A flicker of something alive moved through her gaze.
"My runes," he said. "They spell out three words: You cannot lie."
A pause.
He sighed, not for drama, but to steady himself.
"To be clear—it's not that I simply can't lie. It's worse. I am compelled to speak the truth. No matter how much it hurts. No matter the cost."
Her eyes narrowed. She didn't look away.
A second passed.
Then another.
He said nothing.
He waited.
He knew her.
Knew every line of her silence.
Knew that if he pushed, she would vanish behind those pale flames and never come out again.
So he waited.
…
Finally, she spoke.
"It's Divine."
A whisper.
A revelation.
A risk.
She braced herself.
There—she'd said it.
Bared her throat to him.
'Why did I do that?'
The thought echoed in her chest.
She looked up, expecting suspicion. Envy. Calculation.
But—
Sunny was smiling.
Not the smug smile of someone who had won.
Not the cold smile of someone with a weapon.
A warm smile.
One that… cared.
"Why?" she asked, voice soft but steady, a note of disbelief coloring the calm.
"Why what?" Sunny asked, head tilted.
Nephis leaned in slightly. A flicker of her old self showing through the white fire.
"Why aren't you surprised?"
Sunny crossed his legs, like they were discussing tea leaves instead of godhood. "Because I already knew."
Nephis blinked.
A pause.
'How…?'
"I've never told anyone," she said, tone sharpening. "How could you possibly know?"
Sunny leaned in too, shadows shifting gently around him. "Because, Nephis," he said, "you told me."
Her brow furrowed. "I never did."
He smiled. "Not yet."
That made her freeze.
Sunny's voice turned quiet, serious, anchored in something vast. "You told me in the past. In a future that no longer exists. Back when we were just Awakened—side by side."
He took a breath.
"Let me explain. All of it. Just… don't interrupt. Not until I finish."
She didn't nod this time. She simply listened.
So he spoke.
"I can't tell you everything. Not because I don't want to. But because I shouldn't. There are things that can twist you just by being known. Corrupt you. So until you're strong enough, I can't tell you everything. Just… enough."
He paused, gathering words like bones.
"Let me start from the top."
His smile trembled, a crack in the mask. "We didn't talk at first. But I met you outside the Academy gates. Then again, inside, a few weeks before the Winter Solstice… long ago. We entered the Dream Realm together—the Forgotten Shore. Just like now."
A breath.
"We became Masters. Challenged the third Nightmare. Became Saints. But the last part… it went wrong."
His voice thinned, as if weighed down by memory.
"Something happened. Everyone forgot me. I was erased from existence. I lost my very face. My connection to the world. I nearly gave up. Nearly… ended it."
Silence.
"But you—"
He swallowed.
"You kept me going. The memory of you. Even when you didn't remember me anymore."
Another breath. Ragged this time.
"Later, we found each other again. We weren't friends at first. But we became comrades. Then, closer than even that. We fought side by side. We planned to eliminate Anvil and Song. And we did."
His eyes darkened.
"There was a war. The Domain War. Hundreds—no, thousands—died. Most of them Awakened. Then came the duel of Sovereigns. And when they were weak… we joined the fray."
His voice cracked.
"And Ki Song—"
A snarl, bitter and grief-wracked—
"She killed you."
A single tear slid down his cheek.
Unbidden. Unstoppable.
"In return… I killed myself. As defiance. And I rose. A Sovereign."
The killing intent in his voice was cold. Precise.
"I destroyed them both. Slowly. Thoroughly. And still… there was no peace."
He leaned back, suddenly tired.
"The light of my world was gone. So I locked myself away in the Nameless Temple—my citadel. I searched for a way to undo death. But nothing worked. Even the gods couldn't bring you back. They themselves were dead after all."
His tone shifted. Distant now. Haunted.
"But something answered."
He looked her in the eyes.
"I can't name it. Not yet. Knowing it might… defile you."
"But I can tell you this: it shattered the laws of time, space, and reality. And it sent me back."
"Why? I don't know. Maybe it pitied me. Maybe it laughed. Maybe it just… wanted to see what I'd do."
He stopped.
Then said, quieter:
"And here I am. Telling you all this."
He waited.
Not for her to believe.
Just for her to understand why she mattered so much.
Why he needed her to be strong.
Why he would burn the world to protect her.
Nephis said nothing.
But something in her jaw tightened. A twitch—small, but there. Like a crack forming in ice.
Sunny saw it. Of course he did.
"You once told me something," he said, voice low. "Not in this life. But in the one before it."
She didn't respond.
"We were tired," he continued. "From fighting. It was when we were both Sleepers. We had just finished an expedition in the Labyrinth and were returning to the Dark City. You asked me about my first nightmare… I told you how ghastly and despicable it was. Calling it hard would be injustice."
He chuckled, not from delight, but from sorrow.
"Then I asked you about your first nightmare…"
Still, silence. But her eyes were sharp now. Alert. On edge.
Sunny leaned forward. Not to threaten. Rather, just to be closer.
"You told me how you were the daughter of a lighthouse keeper. How you all lived in peace, you, your parents and your siblings, all in harmony. In peace."
The words struck like thunder.
"How you knew it was all a nightamre, yet— yet the bliss, tethered you. How eventually, you considered staying there. How you doused yourself in flames and lit yourself on fire. How you then went on to kill the Terror"
Sunny leaned in even closer, and ran a finger through her silver hair, tugging it behind her ear. She didn't move, didn't even flinch
"You told me how the hardest part was not burning alive, rather… rather it was walking up the stairs, leaving that false life behind."
Nephis stood.
Not abruptly. Not with rage. But with a terrifying stillness. Like a sword being drawn one inch at a time.
Her eyes bore into him. Not with fury. Not with fear. With recognition—and a cold, creeping dread.
"I never told anyone that," she said.
Sunny didn't speak.
Sunny stood too, slowly. "But you told me. And now I'm telling you."
The silence was unbearable.
Then Nephis moved—quick, sharp, like the flick of a blade. The door opened before she reached it. She didn't speak. Didn't curse. Didn't cry.
She left.
Not with fury.
With fear.
The kind that only comes when your walls begin to collapse, and the only thing left to do is run before the truth buries you alive.
Sunny didn't follow. He didn't call out. He simply stood there in the echo of her absence, shadows swirling restlessly at his feet.
She would come back.
Eventually.
But for now, she needed space.
To think.
To breathe.
To believe.
And somewhere in the far reaches of the dream realm, in Godgrave, in the Nameless Temple, a weave had just ruptured.
Sunny sat there.
Unmoving.
He knew Nephis wouldn't return.
Not yet at least.
Tomorrow's breakfast was going to end up being the slop served in this hellhole.
After all, Sunny was in no mood to cook.
"She didn't even take the gift I had prepared."
He smiled bitterly, holding a single, elegant, sacred soul shard.