Shadow Slave

'This is… sort of grim.'

Sunny was falling through a boundless, empty void of cold darkness. Far below, false stars were shimmering with pale white light. Their radiance, however, did very little to illuminate the Sky Below. Everywhere around him, there was just… nothing.

Sunny was still resting atop the treasure chest, holding onto it with his one healthy hand. He had no reference point to measure how far he had traveled, but suspected that the distance was swiftly leaving the realm of mundane sense and logic.

He was not very educated, however, even he knew that a falling object would forever accelerate at a steady pace… theoretically. That meant that every second Sunny was falling, his speed was increasing exponentially. By now, it had to be simply insane.

But he did not really feel that speed. All he felt were wisps of cold wind caressing his skin from time to time. If there was one good thing about the situation, it was that he had accumulated a bit of shadow essence and was able to summon the Puppeteer's Shroud again. So he wasn't naked anymore, at least.

If there was one thing he did know, though, it was the approximate speed with which he could glide forward with the help of the Dark Wing. Adding the weight of the dead treasure to the equation, he could more or less calculate the distance he was covering horizontally. With that in mind, he guessed that he would reach the middle of the Tear in around a day…

Problem was, he had no reliable way to measure time, as well. There were some clues he could try to use, like the rate of shadow essence regeneration or the state of his wounds, but they were not exactly reliable.

In heroic stories, characters often found themselves in similar situations. Every time that happened, the hero somehow managed to measure the passage of time by the state of their facial hair. Sadly, despite being eighteen, Sunny could not grow even the most pitiful of beards. That was a real shame.

'...I guess I'm not hero material.'

With a bitter sigh, he stared at the lid of the treasure chest and tried to assess his physical state.

Things weren't good, but they also weren't very bad. He had sustained minor internal damage due to the Crushing, as well as several rather ugly wounds in the battle against Mimic. The half-healed cuts left on his body by the Mirror Beast had also opened at some point, and were now hurting once again.

The worst injury was, of course, his broken arm.

His mental state was also somewhat in shambles after being ravaged by the visage of the Strings of Fate. Luckily, there seemed to be no long-lasting effects. Even the splitting headache was already growing fainter. Sunny also could not remember the exact details of what he had seen, as if his mind completely erased them from his memory to protect itself.

The only thing that remained was the fragment of the memory that he had preserved on purpose — the image of the thread of golden light leading deep into the Tear.

Sunny stared at the black nothingness, waited for a while, then slowly exhaled.

'Great. Now what?'

There was no answer.

***

idea how long — he got tired of waiting for something to

'Might as well…'

he did was summon the

expected that an identical chest would appear near the dead one, but instead, what he saw was a miniature version of it. A box

fact, the Covetous Coffer looked more mean than graceful… somehow. As Sunny stared at it, the lid of the box raised slightly,

He blinked.

can manage with my current Soul

his head, Sunny looked at the

"Come here."

box, and

for a few moments, glanced at his fingers, then cautiously opened the lid of the box. Luckily, it

Although it seemed rather small, the Coffer

'...Perfect.'

it on the lid, and

leather. Using his one healthy hand and his teeth, Sunny tied them into a semblance of a rope, then tied himself to the treasure chest, and

his coins weren't going

bit. He was starting to

abyss turned out to be way less exciting than

a lot of things he had to do,

his weight and crawled to the end of the chest. There, he used the Moonlight Shard

the last strip of leather he had and bit

going to

from its sling, and then proceeded to swiftly

sharp, blinding pain pierced

and the ability to think straight, he saw that

will have