Shadow Slave

Sunny stared at the immortal sorcerer, stunned by those words. The scale and scope of the bloodshed and adversity Noctis was striving for were… were simply beyond comprehension. And yet, he had confessed this terrible desire with the same carefree, nonchalant, jovial attitude… as though he was indeed talking about brewing tea instead of waging war on four deathless Saints and their armies.

Sunny remembered the first time he saw Noctis… bloodied, crestfallen, sitting motionlessly in front of the fire with a diamond sickle laying at his feet, its blade marred with crimson.

A grim and somber thought formed in his mind all by itself:

"Insane… you are insane. All of you are…"

He flinched, then removed his trembling hand from the emerald amulet.

Noctis threw his head back and laughed, as if he heard the funniest joke in the world. The silent sailor dolls stood around him, motionless, staring into emptiness with their crudely carved eyes. The scene that was strange and fantastical a few moments ago suddenly seemed threatening and eerie.

After a while, the sorcerer grew quiet, then glanced at Sunny with a mischievous smile and asked:

"Yes, indeed. I could not have said it better myself. All of us are insane. But don't… don't you get it yet, Sunless? Don't you understand why?"

Sunny frowned, then shook his head.

'What the hell is he trying to say?'

How was he supposed to know why everyone in this damned Nightmare seemed completely mad…

And then, something moved in his mind. A seed of a thought… a nascent hint of understanding.

His pupils narrowed slightly.

He had first sensed it after escaping the Red Colosseum and facing Solvane, that beautiful and utterly demented fiend… her actions made a perverse, and yet

then, he had felt a vague suspicion. Something seemed out of place, something didn't make sense. And after, when he had been thrust into the neverending nightmares, this feeling only grew stronger. He just had no

control until it turned into a destructive obsession. He had experienced it all, lived through all of

Pain, sorrow, tragedy... madness.

strangeness. His single-minded obsession with learning how to weave, the sudden intensity of his affection toward Elyas, the subsequent crushing heartbreak over the young man's

few months,

'Wait… wait…'

recall all he knew about this Nightmare. The seven knives, the seven immortals… a thousand years of solemn duty… the terrible torture one of the rules of

Before what?

an expression of shocked

then cautiously picked up the emerald amulet. A single

"Hope?"

looked at the vast

"...Indeed. Hope."

sip of wine, the smile disappearing from his face. A few moments later,

shackles, and made those shackles eternal. That was us… me and the rest of the Chain Lords. He entrusted each of us with the fate of another,

grew dark and cold. The sorcerer remained silent for a while, and then

grew tired. Doubt found its way into our hearts. Eternity… eternity is a heavy burden, Sunless. And under its weight, unnoticed, one of us grew twisted. So, another one made a choice to uproot the corruption… that was how the first of the Chain Lords died. Aidre, my dear friend… murdered by that wicked slayer, Solvane,

their fingers splintering from the immense pressure.

The sorcerer sighed.

all of our fates were sealed. Yes, six shackles still remained. But Hope's prison wasn't perfect anymore. Her will, her insidious influence sipped out, little by little, infecting us all… slowly devouring the whole kingdom, every living being in it,

He laughed.