Shadow Slave

Sunny stepped into the patch of mangled obsidian and slowly approached the alabaster phalanx, then kneeled beside it and lingered, studying its golden shine.

He was trying to determine if any sign of the harrowing rot remained, but also felt pulled toward the radiant bone and found it hard to look away.

'All of this insanity, just for that little piece of bone. What secrets does it hold?'

He hesitated for a moment, then reached down and picked up the phalanx.

Sunny had instinctively expected it to crumble into a torrent of white sparks and hear the Spell proclaim that he had acquired a new Memory, just like what had happened with Weaver's Mask… that Memory being, perhaps, another Drop of Ichor.

But nothing of the sort happened.

The bone felt cold and smooth to the touch. There was still marrow inside, wet and infused with bright golden radiance. Sunny tilted his head, stumped. What was he supposed to do now?

In hindsight, the fact that the phalanx was not going to turn into a Memory was rather sensible… obvious, even. After all, Memories were simply copies of real items recreated by the Spell, just like Echoes were copies of actual creatures — or items conjured by it from scratch following some unknown principle.

This, however… this was the real deal.

The alabaster bone had nothing to do with the Spell. It wasn't a recreation, it was… the original.

Sunny frowned, feeling unsure about how he was supposed to proceed.

Then, a certain scene suddenly appeared in his mind. Back in the ruined cathedral of the Dark City, Saint stood above the rusted remains of the Black Knight, holding a black gem in her hand. With a hint of some dark emotion burning in her ruby eyes, she raised the gem to her mouth, and bit into it.

Before he could fully process the implications of this image, Sunny followed a strange instinct. Without allowing himself time to think about it, he opened his mouth, put the phalanx inside… and swallowed it.

'What?!'

He blinked a couple of times.

'What did I just do?!'

in which a divine bone had been just a few seconds

then… it was as though a furious fire ignited in his

'Crap!'

***

all too well… the feeling of his very nature being forcibly changed into something that it was never meant to be. That nothing

maybe simply

the opposite of the euphoric sense of rebirth the Awakened experienced after completing the First Nightmare or returning from the Dream Realm for the first time... the feeling of your whole body being torn apart and reassembled, only to be

here we

experiencing was very similar to what he had gone through after consuming the drop of Weaver's blood. Back then, it had felt as though every muscle, every fiber, every molecule in his body were destroyed and recreated over and over again, becoming slightly different with each time.

This time was different.

His fingers in particular felt as though there was molten, incandescent, liquid

Sunny shrieked.

it! God damn

It hurt so much…

the branches of the Soul Devouring Tree. After a few more minutes of it, Sunny felt the Blood Weave suddenly come alive and rush through his veins, absorbing

the process of transformation

changing… it was a strange and extremely unpleasant sensation, one

"Hell, that was... rough."

was

side and noticed Saint, who was standing silently above

No sympathy

was pacing nervously, turning to Sunny from

any feedback. He had no doubt that it

irritating! I would rather

feeling of his body being

long while — which felt like an eternity — it was

spread through Sunny's body. It felt… more solid, somehow.

Resilient.

'Just what have I…'

of the Spell suddenly thundered in the solemn