Shadow Slave Cinema (reaction fanfic)-Chapter 21: A promise

There, atop the ancient bed.....was a figure

Nephis's eyes widened in shock.

On the bed, was a shadowy visage. Laying on their side, they faced the wall curled up in a fetal position. There was no color, no clothing, no discernable features...simply a tangible shadow of a person.

A person Nephis had come to learn much about.

"Sunny!"

Her aspect and soul sea had been sealed, but in that moment maybe her chains slightly faltered—as she seemingly blinked across the room to the side of the bed.

Without hesitation or fear, her hands flashed forward to touch the shadow....but her fingers simply passed through.

Desperation flared in her silver eyes. Again, she reached. Again, her fingers met nothing. Again and again, she tried—to grasp him, to hold him, to hug him, to pull him back from whatever abyss had swallowed him. But the result never changed. His fate and existence were already tragic, but now he was truly a shadow....unseen and unreachable to anything in existence.

'No...no! Why is.....'

Refusing to give up, she moved onto the bed, carefully circling around his corporeal form.

And then she saw his face.

He looked... peaceful.

The light seeped through the cracks in the window, golden beams piercing through his shadowy form. His face, barely outlined in the shifting darkness, was relaxed. A faint smile played on his lips, as if caught in the grasp of some content memory. Loose strands of hair fell across his face, resting gently against the pillow.

It looked like he was dreaming.

A dream hidden from the world, one that brought his being solace.

A distant, forlorn dream.

Nephis stared at the scene, a world of emotions in her heart. This...was this Sunny? Or was this some illusion, a fabrication of a distant memory he held dear. The memory museum only seemed possible through access to his soul sea, thus she wanted to believe it was him. Had he somehow also been swept up in and hidden away in some other place they hadn't seen? But she had come to know what the cinema was capable of, what trivial matter was it to create copies of something it knew more than anyone else.

It didn't matter in the moment.

Gingerly, she raised her hands, carefully following the contours of his face, imitating what would be brushing his cheek. A complicated smile on her face.

"Found you..." she whispered.

In that moment, her worries of her disappearance to the others, faltered in her mind. Her burning ambitions and goals. Everything around her became a blur. Nothing else mattered, as she only looked at him.

Time became a blur as she was engrossed in the moment.

For a few moments, none of it mattered.

Only him.

Just as he had only ever looked at her.

It felt like... a dream.

Maybe it was.

A time when it had just been the two of them....when two were one.

The sight filled her with warmth—and yet, there was a quiet sorrow in her heart.

Hesitantly, she brought her hand away, moving until her back was pressed against the wall, bringing her knees up and allowing her chin to rest. Silently she watched as his body rhythmically rose and fell, his sleep undisturbed.

A conflicted smile on her face, "...even now when you're right before me, you're still unreachable"

The shadow remained silent, as she shook her head slightly, her eyes dipping.

"Strange...even when I've just scratched the truth and now have the chance to see you, or some form of you.....I-I....I don't even know where to start."

She sighed, tilting her head up at the ceiling.

'What happened to you in those 4 years?'

'Why did you disappear and not try to connect to us again?'

'How hard was it....being absolutely alone?'

'What battles pushed you to such resolve over your life?'

'What terrible secrets did you learn and have to endure in silence?'

So many questions. So many things she wanted—needed—to ask. But deep down, she already knew that some answers could never be spoken aloud. That some burdens were meant to be carried alone.

And yet, out of everything weighing on her heart, the only thing that felt right—the only thing she truly wanted to say, if he could hear her for just a moment—was the simplest, quietest truth of all.

Her lips trembled slightly. Her voice, barely a whisper.

"...I'm sorry you're all alone."

The words hung in the air, fragile yet unyielding,

"I-I don't know what our relationship as as a cohort was before....nor can I imagine what could have pushed you so far to make such a choice"

She paused, a bittersweet smile on her face, as a hoarse chuckle escaped her lips.

"It was probably me, wasn't it? Maybe I should learn to be a more honest person like you. Emotions, desire....they're all too powerful, and all too frightening. I don't know what I was feeling in the past, what I did, what I said to you.....what I did to hurt you."

Her arms moved, pulling her knees closer to her face.

"I-I..."

"...."

"...i'm sorry for whatever I did to you"

The shadow didn't stir. Didn't acknowledge her words. Didn't hear the apology she could never say when it mattered. Her gaze dropped, a deep breath filling her lungs as she pressed her forehead against the cold wall.

"A generational prodigy" she murmured. "A legacy left behind by the immortal flame"

She let out a quiet laugh.

"And yet, you're the one who kept moving forward. If anything, you're what every Awakened should aspire to be. Fighting dead sacreds, braving places unseen....you're even on the verge of Supremacy"

Her eyes softened.

"Even when you were cast aside by everything... you never stopped fighting."

A weak chuckle slipped from her lips, breathless and sad.

"How pathetic....that I can only say the right things when no one can hear them."

Slowly, she rose from the bed. Her eyes swept the room, taking in every little detail. The familiar desk, worn from years of use. The floor, marked with the evidence of relentless training. She traced her fingers over old carvings in the wood, counted each scar in the floorboards—each one marking the time lost with him.

Finally, she opened the closet.

She blinked.

"Gowns?"

A flicker of amusement passed through her features.

"....he has peculiar tastes."

A pause.

"Though, the image of him in one is quite appealing."

The thought made her lips curl, but a shadow crossed her eyes.

"Effie....her influence is getting too strong, could this be her nascent domain?"

Shaking her head, she sat back on the edge of the bed, glancing at his sleeping form. Hesitation flickered across her face, words caught in her throat.

"...You know, I've always hated compromise. I've always hated bending to others' will."

She shuddered, letting out a quiet, breathy laugh.

"...what am I even saying? You were there when that happened, weren't you? Maybe you were the one who influenced me to say that."

Her hand hovered over him once more, fingers trembling slightly as they passed through empty air.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is... I just want to promise that I won't leave you alone again. Not this time. Not ever."

She exhaled softly.

"I want to know more about you."

"...."

"...more about us."

The words hung between them, unspoken yet heavy with meaning.

Was this...was this why she had been brought here? So the words and feelings that had been long trapped, could finally be free? So she could be honest with herself for once without the use of a blade?

Outside, the golden light creeping through the window deepened, growing richer, warmer. It seeped further into the room, inching toward the bed.

She watched as it slowly reached his face, washing him in soft, golden hues.

"...So soon?" she murmured.

A quiet sigh escaped her lips. Nephis hesitated for only a moment before moving, positioning herself to lie down beside him.

She turned onto her side, resting parallel to him, her gaze tracing his peaceful expression.

A memory flashed in her mind—the Sunphis Lounge. The image of them sleeping side by side, embracing each other lovingly, lost in quiet comfort.

"They erased you from history. Stole your name. Cast you aside."

Her silver eyes gleamed.

"But I'll find a way. Just like the Nightmare Spell, I'll rip fate apart, burn down the tapestry that refuses to accept you. If that is my will..."

She paused, an estranged image flashing across her eyes, her lips curled faintly.

"No....if that is our will....who dares to stop us?"

She reached out, resting her hand beside his, fingers twitching slightly.

The light crept higher, swallowing them both in warmth.

As it reached his face, a single tear slipped from her eye, trailing silently down her cheek.

And as the light finally consumed them, her voice—soft, steady, filled with quiet determination—broke the silence.

"I'll bring you home."

*******

In the Memory Museum, a collective crowd had now formed at the back, including everyone from all rows. Cassie turned her head back to the case containing the Crown of Dawn, her brows furrowing behind the cloth. She looked around, scanning the crowd in confusion only to slightly jump as she found Nephis suddenly standing next to her.

Like she had magically appeared.

"You, when did you become an assassin? When did you get here, why did you have to scare me like that?"

Nephis remained motionless before shuddering, slowly turning to her, a complex look on her face. Cassie new the look well:

"What did you do?"

Neph stared at her blankly, "Me, I did nothing?"

The remark earned a scoff from Cassie as she crossed her arms.

"You know you're a terrible actor, right?"

Nephis humbly nodded, "I know"

"So are you going to tell me what happened?" Cassie pressed.

Nephis remained silent, her eyes shifting as she seemed to remember something. Perhaps it was something precious, as her lips faintly curled.

"Who knows..." she whispered

Cassie stared at her, but didn't press. She could tell that whatever it was.....made her happy. A rare sight that warmed Cassie's heart. It was a bit hypocritical for her to keep prying anyway, after all, she had hidden quite a number of secrets herself.

"Maybe we should both learn more about honesty from Sunny...."

Not too far away, by Rain's feet, her shadow stared with wide eyes. It shifted and convulsed, tormented by not being able to speak what was on her mind. It remained glued to her feet, trapped and silenced, maybe for the better.

It had quite a lot of things it would like to say.

"Liars! Cheats! Swindlers! She just appeared out of thin air, how could you not have seen it! Not like I was ogling her and keeping close attention every moment....it's only natural to keep tabs on your cell mates!"

But its lampooning was for naught, as everyone's focus remained fixed on four particular centered displays, that clearly implied a significant value.

It crossed its arms, grumbling silently

'You better hope I remain trapped like this....'

As the crowd now became whole, the light seemed to strangely shift in the room, focused on the display cases like a spotlight. Quite a theatrical scene, but it wasn't needed. They were more than curious.

Inside the glass, four relics lay in solemn rest.

The first—a delicate silver bell. Small, unassuming, yet eerily compelling. Intricate etchings coiled around its rim, forming an elegant dance of winding vines and blooming flowers. Its luster had not faded, but the crude, worn leather string attached to it spoke of a history long and arduous. A thing once treasured, now resting in quiet dormancy.

To its right, armor of night itself. Onyx black, its surface seemed to drink in the surrounding light, devouring it hungrily. A sleek design—built for both defense and unrelenting offense. The shoulder plates bore rows of malevolent spikes, warping its silhouette into something almost monstrous, as if forged not by human hands but from the remains of some ancient demon.

Beside the darkness lay an undeniable contrast—a blade bathed in cold, luminous silver. A longsword, classic in its craftsmanship, yet wholly unlike any earthly weapon. The crossguard stretched into the shape of curling wings, pristine and pure. But the blade itself... it was no mere metal. It resembled ice—cold, nebulous, a frost so deep it could extinguish the fiercest infernos.

And finally—the centerpiece of them all.

The mask.

It did not rest inside the case. It ruled it.

A twisted creation, its presence alone heavier than the air they breathed. Three jagged horns spiraled upward, a snarling grimace stretched across its surface, teeth overlapping in grotesque symmetry. And the eyes... or rather, the absence of them. Hollow, endless pits where sight should have been, swallowing light, thought, and reason alike.

It stared at them.

Or perhaps, it made them believe it did.

A nameless dread crept into their bones, an unshakable weight pressing down on their very souls. This was no mere artifact. This was a piece of something far greater, far darker. A remnant of the unknown.

The mask of the Weaver.

The mask of his Heir.

A figure shifted in the crowd, as Ananke stepped forward, standing before the display. Her eyes shook, as she raised a shaking hand, brushing the glass. If not for the limited space, she would have wasted no time in prostrating, bowing before its unholy greatness.

A whisper escaped her lips, "Hail Weaver, Daemon of Fate...."

Daeron shifted his voice echoing what everyone thought, "Is this the real?"

Ananke turned around, meeting the eager eyes, a light smile forming on her wrinkled features.

"There are few replicas given to the most devout of followers, but this...I can feel it in my being.....this is the original"

Breaths sounded out, faces laced with awe and enamour.

'The original'

They were before, something that a Daemon had worn, a real Daemon. A being second only to the Gods, an existence so terrible and vast that mere mortals could not perceive them. Something that Sunny had also placed on his very face.

"Well go on! Don't leave us waiting.....what does it say?" Julius exclaimed, his face honest.

Ananke shifted, her gaze falling onto the plaque, as her melodious voice sounded out,

[Hidden from all, the -Unknown- found something long thought a myth. In a forbidden room, just as terrible as its lineage, the -Unknown- claimed what was rightfully his, inheriting the most prized tool of the Daemon of Fate. A quiet knowing seeped through its presence, as if it had waited, as if it had always been his. Curious he was, as what he saw, could only leave him confused, whether they were truly related, or one and the same. He broke the chains of the one who held what was rightfully his, and yet in breaking those shackles, the -Unknown- did not see the ones closing around himself. As its cold welcoming embrace met his strangely familiar face, its hollow depths swallowing all light, the last trace of hesitation faded.]

At the wording, Cassie slightly flinched, her intuition briefly screaming terribly as others began to speak up.

"Strange, it seems like it already was his?"

"I wonder what enchantments it has?"

"Might be worth the risk to break in and grab it before the place reacts"

"Real...a real relic of a Daemon!"

The murmurs continued to sound out, as Rain stared at the description with a puzzled look.

'Why did the rock and chair have so much more dramatic descriptions?'

Her thoughts were cut off as Morgan's voice sounded above the rest.

"What about the armour? We've seen him use it plenty, I am quite interested in its nature"

Heads turned and nodded in unison, looking back at Ananke. For a second, she was briefly stunned, unfamiliar with the collective cooperation among them all. She brought her fist up and coughed, moving over.

[Tossed aside, deemed a failure, this armour was claimed by one who was treated of similar nature. Perhaps he saw a reflection of himself in its discarded form, a kindred existence left to decay. Or perhaps he merely understood what it could become. He took it, not as an act of mercy, but of conviction. And so, he fed it. Not with care, nor reverence, but with the screams of the dying, the howls of the forsaken, the last, ragged breaths of those who stood against him. Each soul devoured, each battle fought, each life stolen only deepened its hunger, until it no longer served him, but became one. Shadows curled at his step, and the armor darkened with each kill. Together, they slaughtered many foes, until they reached the Abyss, learning the truth of both their origins, thus coming closer to completion.]

Noctis cocked his head, "The Underworld?"

Others turned in his direction, Kai speaking up, "You know what this armour is?"

Noctis shook his head as a sigh rang out, "Of course not! Why would I be associated with such a crudely looking piece of equipment, even if it is probably made by Nether, the Daemon of Destiny"

The words hit the crowd as some slightly swayed, eyes widening in disbelief.

"Nether, the Daemon of Destiny, this armour belonged to them?" Revel asked in amusement.

Noctis could only shrug, "We should all be able to read, the descriptions mentions entering the Abyss and subsequently coming closer to completion, thus it is logical that the armor belonged to Nether"

"H-He...he has two relics left behind by Daemons?" Rain whispered incredulously

Noctis's arm shot up as he looked around in disbelief, "Yes! How many more times am I going to repeat it?!"

"You speak like you knew this all along" Gilead retorted, causing Noctis to frown.

"And you speak like you've been blind ever since we arrived here"

The remark caused some of Valor to stir, as rarely both Jest and the Blood Sister held restrained looks of amusement, the air becoming electric.

The crowd slightly quieted at the outburst, as a lone murmur from Solvanne sounded out:

"Now I am quite curious to witness [A Light in the Void]"

The remark caused Noctis to whirl around, a look of relief on his face.

"Yes! Someone who connects the strings, well said!"

The comment caused Solvanne to stare at him with a genuine look of confusement, as realization began to dawn on his face.

"Wait...no! Not well said you wicked woman! But...maybe slightly, I would also like to see that option."

"It involves the Abyss and the Underworld, correct?" Saint Cor repeated, stirring a nod of acknowledgement from Noctis.

"Then we'll keep that in mind with the next reward..."

Gazes moved back to the displays, now focused on quite honestly the most prizes and captivating of them all. The glowing sword, that seemed to warm their skin at the faintest of luminance. Nephis was especially drawn, it seemingly....called to her, like a piece that completed her all together.

Few of Valor and Song glanced at her, somewhat aware at who the blade belonged to, and more so who it had possibly cut down in the room.

Ananke stirred, her eyes narrowing with fascination as she continued reading.

[In the midst of crisis, a terrible fate approaching, the light faltered. Her radiance had become overbearing and all encompassing, as nothing forged by man could be held worthy in her hand. So she turned to a daemon, confiding and asking for a blade worthy of her. He scoured the remnants of forgotten gods and forsaken daemons, scavenging pieces of divinity and ruin alike. He wove the sacred with the profane, bound together in an unholy symphony. A craft that stirred even the Spell.. Through blood and sweat, through will alone, he shattered the unbreakable. He defied the impossible. And in the end—he forged something the world had never seen, and had yet to fear. A blade of flawless brilliance, limitless as the one who would wield it. Cold as divine judgment. Sharp as the severance of destiny itself. A weapon of blinding light, yet born from the hands of one the world had cast into shadow.

How ironic.

That something so pure, so perfect, could be brought forth by one deemed unworthy. How fitting, that a weapon destined to reshape history was wrought by the hands of the -Unknown-.]

Slowly, gazes turned to look at Nephis, who was doing her best to hide a smile. A blade that she could wield without holding back, one that matched her radiance and potential. She was giddy at the thought of wielding and dueling with it, and more so that she couldn't hold it.

And why....why was it so sweet?

To go to such lengths to create a blade that she could wield and cherish, it was just so terribly bitter-sweet, her heart couldn't help but beat a little quicker

But a more important question formed in her mind, as her eyes narrowed.

"This...this is something that he's made in the future, and yet...it's here"

"We've come to see what this place is more than capable of" Saint Helie said eminently, shrugging her shoulders in emphasis

Nephis shook her head, "It's just, strange....how it has everything he has collected to detail, as if it has access to his Soul Sea"

"You suggest that he's possibly here but hidden?" Morgan echoed, causing everyone to slightly learn forward in suspicion.

Nephis subtly nodded, as Cassie frowned in silent realization, "It's an honest possibility"

"Gods! I cannot imagine the embarrassment, let alone the explanation!" Effie laughed.

Jet slightly elbowed her, "The explaining YOU, would have to do"

"Huh, why me?" Effie retorted

Jet raised her finger as she prepared to berate her, but faltered, pausing as the possible scenario ran in her mind. Slowly, her hand lowered as she shook her head.

"No, no...anyone but you will do the explaining"

Effie frowned in offense, "What's wrong with me?"

The silence was agonizing as she looked around, the others motionlessly staring at her, gazes of contempt and sympathy, only Mordret was uninterested as he looked into the distance. Ling looked at her with bright and proud eyes, as he tugged on her pants to be lifted onto her shoulders.

Julius coughed, "Ah yes, quite the craftsmanship, but may we learn about the final piece before this place perhaps kicks us out, like a rushed author?"

Ananke didn't wait for confirmation as she moved towards the last case, containing the mundane looking bell

[The Beginning after the end, what was meant to happen and doom to progress. In a forsaken piece of land, a warrior and a slave walked the same path. The warrior had everything, and would come to make everything bow to his will. Two beings, too great to coexist. Two paths that could not share the same ground. One had to fall. Fate watched with disinterest, expecting the ordained outcome—until the world trembled at the impossible. Against all odds, the slave rose. And in the end, the warrior, once promised the world, was left broken and discarded—his future devoured by the one who was never meant to have one. The slave stood victorious, not by divine will, nor by fate's mercy, but by his own relentless hunger. Crawling onto the steps of a long-forgotten temple, he raised his voice to the silent heavens. The gods, who had long turned their backs, listened. And in the abyss of that forsaken place, something answered.]

Looks became mixed between shock and puzzle.

"This...this was his first trial?" Julius murmured.

Saint Cor nodded, "It seems so, and ties into the earlier statement of how he was a slave"

"I don't think it was just earlier," Nephis commented quietly.

Ananke's gaze remained fixed on the plaque, her fingers gently brushing against the glass as if expecting the words to shift beneath her touch. "A warrior promised the world, left broken... a slave who was never meant to have a future, rising to claim it. What does that make him now?"

"A mistake," Cassie whispered, her voice barely audible.

Heads turned toward her, some with curiosity, others with unease.

She exhaled, glancing at them all. "I don't mean it in a bad way. It's just—he wasn't supposed to be here. He wasn't meant to survive. Every step he's taken has been against what was written. Fate didn't guide him. It tried to erase him."

"And yet, here he stands." Saint Cor's voice was steady, but his golden eyes gleamed with something deep—respect, perhaps, or wariness. "Which means fate isn't as absolute as we once thought."

The weight of his words settled upon them, the idea far more terrifying than anything else they had faced.

Noctis broke the tension with a sharp laugh. "Well, that explains a lot. Always did seem like the kind of bastard to spit in the face of gods." He crossed his arms, nodding to himself. "Honestly, I respect it."

"Should we even be talking about this?I mean... what if something is listening?" Rain asked suddenly, her voice hushed, briefly glancing at her shadow which stared back at her.

That question hung in the air, its weight palpable.

Jet crossed her arms, briefly looking up at the endless ceiling.

"Something probably is."

Julius stirred, bringing their attention back to the more important topic at hand, "Ahem....it alludes to the importance of the other person, the so called warrior and how they were meant for some great purpose, but somehow....fate changed, and the slave, no, Sunny survived."

He paused looking around,

"Any ideas?"

Heads turned and shook in ignorance, no clue about who the person could possibly be, although they should have supposedly left a mark and be well known.

Daeron shifted, "The Nine, he knew the Nine"

The air became still as everyone looked at Daeron with wide eyes. What he was implying....was too unrealistic.

"You suggest...he killed one of the Nine in his trial?" Jet breathed.

Daeron paused, "Well, he's already killed one, I was more interested in the last part"

"The gods listened...." Windflower murmured in a trance.

"So, he killed someone he shouldn't and spoke with the Gods.....IN HIS FIRST TRIAL!?!" Luster yelled.

"Probably one-sided, the Gods are very anti-social" Noctis coughed.

Everyone stood in silence considering the information. He had supposedly killed a Great Devil as a sleeper, and now....he had killed one of the exalted Nine in his mere first trial? The silence was broken by a light chuckle.

"Seems you weren't too far off" Mordret chuckled, causing Rain to shift.

Luster let out a dramatic groan. "Great. Fantastic. Any other disasters we'd like to check off while we're a-" before he could finish his tirade, Kim pinched his rib causing him to yelp, doing an apologetic bow to the rest.

As the silence continued to settle, a click sounded at the front, the door now opening to reveal the hallway. Words now blinking above them,

"Anything else then?" Julius echoed looking around

A polite hand rose from the crowd, its unusual demeanor causing Solvanne to frown.

"Yes, actually," Noctis deadpanned. He pointed at the blinking words above the exit.

Nephis straightened slightly, her sharp eyes narrowing at the notification, a mixture of anticipation and anxiety.

[Sunphis Lounge and subsequent Lounge have been set]

[Pause has ended]

[Please return to the Cinema]

"Ah well, the other supposed one. Maybe it will give what the collective audience seeks for once" he chortled, sparking some hidden outraged looks from Cassie and Effie.

"A different lounge...." Morgan murmured

The words remained, now blinking to stress a non-apparent urgency.

People looked around before slowly lumbering towards the door. Along the way, they cast lingering gazes at the memories, some more passionate than others. Effie had to pawn Ling off to Ananke again, as she practically had to drag Julius and Rain out, who both practically left marks on the ground.

"No! No...my history and secrets!" Julius whimpered in an unbecoming manner of a gentleman.

Eventually, they all made it outside, as the glorious door finally closed behind them, leaving them in the hall. As routine, they began moving in silence, still unwilling to rattle themselves with the [Cosmos View] although some were secretly curious. Their curiosity would have to wait for a while, after a well spaced out blend between blood and revelation, compared to the earlier convoluted info-dump.

Some conversed over the memories, while others speculated together in secret. Everyone now had formed their own groups and cliques. All except for Mordret who paced at the back behind everyone.

It was only natural.

The museum had been quite interesting, especially that mirror which he found, it was quite fascinating. But overall, it hadn't really interested him

He was more interested in the entity that had been trying to enter the place for the last while.

Although he was now mundane, he wasn't human in itself considering his real, heritage. Thus, he had felt strangely aware and kind of connected to the mirror realm when it had been present, similar to how Nephis could still read and feel Longing after it became so natural to her.

'Still trying huh?'

He had noticed it as soon as they stepped out of the Cinema and began their trek, a faint presence that persisted outside the boundary. It was a mirror, quite small and round.

A monocle perhaps?

It had been following him closely, just as he had been following its movements. Constantly it prodded and moved around, seeming to find a gap or a back door to the place, but its efforts didn't bear fruition.

Strangely, it seemed to follow Mordret specifically, as if it sensed and was drawn to him.

"Another one of us?" Mordret murmured.

As they made their way, its presence flared greater than it had before, before dimming and disappearing, seemingly giving up and losing interest.

"Aww...try harder!"

Mordret's lips curled, as he playfully swayed side to side, "Interesting....this damn place is so endearing!"

Just as before, they arrived and re-entered the Cinema, taking their respective seats as the screen blinked with the statements.

[Please select viewing choice]

[Shadow of Godgrave]

[or]

[Smile of Regret]

The others leaned back in silence as Julius rose—per usual—to address the crowd.

"We now have three questions remaining, with one reserved, of course, for the context. Does anyone have suggestions?"

Daeron shifted, voice even. "Ask whether the warrior was related to the Nine."

Julius scanned the room, noting the silent nods of agreement before looking to the screen.

"From the Marvelous Memory Museum, the warrior mentioned in the description of the bell—was such a warrior related to the Nine?"

The screen blinked. Then flickered.

And then... nothing.

The tension snapped as Rain let out a sigh, half relief, half disappointment. "Well, that's a no, I guess."

Julius shook his head. "No, no. If it refused to answer, it might mean the information is sensitive and it doesn't want to reveal anything early."

"Seems plausible," Gilead murmured.

Julius nodded vigorously, pleased when another person spoke up.

Seishan stood. "Ask whether those seen in the Memory Museum are all he has created—or if there's more."

Julius frowned. "But we saw the future sword. What sense would it make for some things not to be included?"

Seishan folded her arms. "The sword was from a near future. But a distant future? That's another story. The museum may be taking precautions not to reveal too much."

"Or," Noctis added, smirking, "maybe some of the stuff he made was too overpowered for this place to replicate."

"Commendable!" Julius barked, practically bouncing on his heels. "Dear screen, is what we saw the limit of what has come to be his, or is there still room for the future?"

The screen flickered. Then changed.

[No]

The crowd murmured, Windflower nodding so vigorously it was a miracle she didn't give herself whiplash.

"So it's not absolute," Telle murmured.

Julius clasped his hands together. "Well, now—what about the last question?"

For once, no one spoke. They were all caught in the silent struggle of what to prioritize. But before anyone could think too hard about it, Effie stood abruptly, an signature grin on her lips.

"Ask if the other lounge is relationship-related!"

The room fell into stunned silence.

Jaws. Dropped.

Nephis' head snapped to her, eyes wide. "You—what are—"

Effie cut her off with a wave of her hand. "This is merely in your best interest, princess! Another lounge was mentioned, and I can't help but dread the idea of another challenger. As the loyal Sunphis fan and woman of modesty I am, I must investigate!"

She leaned forward, voice teasing. "Besides, there's still that little speculation about Saint gal..."

For a split second, she could have sworn Nephis' face dropped in despair before a polite cough from the second row cut through the moment.

Julius was staring at them. Waiting.

Effie glanced at Nephis, who remained stiff before she finally spoke. "Sure..."

The crowd collectively shuddered.

Julius blinked twice, visibly thrown off, but repeated the question anyway. As he did, Nephis grabbed Effie's collar and yanked her down, voice now a hiss.

"Why are you wasting such precious questions?"

Effie snorted. "Every word that comes out of this mouth has meaning, whether one is great enough to recognize it."

Nephis' glare darkened. "Get to the point."

Effie grinned. "I'm simply clearing the silly speculation about there being another woman to make you feel at ease. It's not like—"

The screen changed.

[Yes]

Silence.

Absolute, gut-wrenching silence.

The air itself seemed to quiver. The collective dread was so thick it could have been sliced with a blade.

Beastmaster and Morgan—rarely ever in unison—wore identical expressions of absolute amusement.

Nephis turned to Effie ever so slowly.

"...At least you have an answer?" Effie squeaked.

Jet leaned over as if desperately trying to do damage control. "Hey, it mentioned a relationship, but that could mean anything! It doesn't have to be... you know... romantic."

Nephis only stared blankly ahead, expression unreadable. It was a logical argument. And yet... why did it make her feel slightly pained? Anxious?

Meanwhile, Rain was internally spiraling.

She glared at her own shadow.

'You! You... debauchery! Lecher! You have Nephis, and yet there was someone else!?'

The shadow stared back at her in silence. Strangely, it seemed equally confused.

Rain shoved herself further into her seat, dazed.

'My own brother... no, no! He did no such thing! Nephis would have killed him if he had!'

"..."

'But he was forgotten.'

Across the room, Kai—sensing the situation was rapidly devolving—quickly turned to Julius and threw a panicked glance..

Julius could more than easily read the room. "Uhum... What is the context behind the new viewing option?" he exclaimed, far too loudly.

Bless his soul.

New novel 𝓬hapters are published on freёwebnoѵel.com.

The screen changed.

[In a world of ice, a shadow strayed, through endless white where echoes fade. A specter bound by duty's call, seeking yet to heed it all. But fate had stitched a wicked thread, a trap was sprung, the path was dead. He warned, he pleaded—cries in vain, yet none were spared the creeping bane. One by one, they slipped away, like fleeting ghosts in winter's sway. Their names erased, their footprints gone, till not but dawn. And when the last light lost its glow,

when silence struck with bitter woe, he turned and fled through endless white. His frozen tears lost in the night.]

'Antarctica...'

They silently stared at the statement, as it seemed to cry in pain, wishing for those lost to be seen.

Some gulped, as others averted their eyes silently. Most of the had been involved, and even if they hadn't, they knew the weight of losing their own who followed them.

"So...should we save it?" Kai murmured.

Nobody spoke up, unsure whether to accept or reject the offer.

"No" Jet echoed,

Kim stared at her with wide eyes, "No? But you were also there! Surely you wan-"

"I said no!" Jet barked, cutting her off, as she turned to the crowd, "This was related to Antarctica, and I have a hunch it was with the issue in the western-quadrant, where there was an incident with a research base"

Ananke looked at her solemnly, "What happened?"

"Nothing..." Jet murmured, "Everyone and everything there disappeared, like they never existed"

Morgan eyes narrowed, "Would this not be logical to learn about the enemy"

Jet glared at her dangerously, "No, there wouldn't be you heartless ingot! It described that he was helpless and watched everyone disappear before him. We wouldn't learn anything, apart from seeing him suffer more!"

"...."

"He's done enough"

Morgan held her gaze as the rest of Valor shifted ready to move. But she didn't budge, simply turning away, a look of boredom.

Jet glanced at Kim and Luster, before turning back to the crowd, "If there is any notable information regarding events that happened in Antarctica, then i will mention and advocate for it in the future."

"I will as well" Saint Cor echoed

Daeron shifted, "This is reasonable....nobody wants to watch their soldiers die"

"Rightfully said" Julius solemnly nodded, "Are there any objections to not saving the option, as we move onto [Shadow of Godgrave], which we have planned to watch?"

The BloodSister shifted, glancing at Seishan who remained silent. Finally, she solemnly nodded, determined to see the supposed massacre through and to better their odds. Morgan smiled with delight at the sight as Julius spoke.

"Option one please"

The screen shifted once more, color bleeding back into view as the scene took shape before them. A battlefield stretched endlessly, a graveyard of warriors and steel, where shattered weapons and fractured armor lay like the broken pride of the fallen. Smoke curled into the sky, carrying the echoes of distant roars, anguished cries, and the relentless clang of steel upon steel. And above it all, looming like a god of carnage, a skeletal titan watched in silence.

"Godgrave," Morgan murmured, the weight of the name settling over them like a shroud.

Nephis stirred, her voice barely above a whisper. "The final confrontation."

Their eyes scanned the field, drawn to the figures stepping forth from the smoke.

To the right, Cassie stood tall, her rapier hovering beside her, its edge glinting with lethal precision. Her attire was a perfect balance of function and grace—carefully placed armor melded seamlessly with loose, tactful garments. Her hair, tied neatly in a knot, swayed slightly, her signature blue band marking her presence like a banner.

Not far from her, a figure of burning radiance emerged—a woman wreathed in white flames. Nephis, clad in simple yet elegant battle gear, her very form blazing with the fury of a storm. The fire in her sockets roared, her snowy hair flowing like liquid light, and her expression—grim, resolute—spoke of an unyielding will.

All around them, the dead lay silent. Their voices were lost to the wind, their final prayers unanswered.

But something else had heard them.

A terrible chill crept through the room. The shadows shifted, stirring with unnatural life, as if chanting, welcoming something unseen.

And then, they saw him.

Far in the distance, a lone figure stood—a warped shadow against the ruin of war. No discernible features, only the ghostly strands of white hair that danced in the wind. He did not stand alone.

He was never alone.

A monstrous shape twisted behind him, rising like an abyssal tide. Scales as dark as the void, eyes like two eclipses—a serpent so vast it threatened to devour the very sky. But as it slithered forth, its form shifted—folding, shrinking—until a regal woman in a flowing gown stepped forward, her presence radiating an unsettling, unnatural grace. The sight causing, both Noctis and Solvanne tensed.

From the left, the darkness tore open. A terrible hand, wrought of steel and nightmare, burst forth, dragging with it a colossus of pure carnage—a fiend of metal and terror, its four claws flexing, eager for slaughter. Its maw hung open, burning embers smoldering within, and when it reared back, it roared. A sound so deep, so utterly hungry, that the battlefield itself seemed to recoil in terror.

And then, from the shifting black, another stepped forth. A knight, poised with effortless grace. But where others cast shadows, it carried darkness upon its back like a king's mantle. Light bent away from it, recoiling in fear. Within the slits of its helmet, red flames flickered—a silent promise of wrath. The knight lifted its arm, summoning a blade from the abyss itself, causing Revel to stir

"Echoes...no, what is this?" Saint Gilead murmured, his voice strained with awe.

"He brought the dead with him." Noctis chuckled, though there was little humor in it.

Mordret chuckled, "I though shadows were supposed to be docile!"

The warriors they had lost, the ones who had vanished into oblivion, could never return. Their dreams and desires were dust, their unfinished stories left to wither.

But their tormentors remained.

The ones who had stolen their last breaths, who had shattered their hopes—they stood here still, untouched by time, summoned once more to answer for their sins.

Death had been silent. But he was never merciful.

The lone shadow raised his hand. The darkness coiled, shifting, forming into something vast—something final. In his grasp, a nebulous odachi took shape, its edge gleaming like the void between stars.

And with that silent decree, the executioners moved.

Death had come to claim what was owed.

And he had brought his finest with him.

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Why yes, I am a War Mongrel, who could you tell?

Enough soppy emotions and humor!

Blood! Carnage! Death!

(∩˃o˂∩)

This one of the best shadow slave moments, so I gotta do it justice

I will do everything in my power to recreate the aura that this fight had

(･ω･)b

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