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.

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

didn't make sense. And after, when he had been thrust into the neverending nightmares,

slightly… or greatly… off. Every emotion was sharper and cut deeper, every vice or virtue grew out of control until it turned into a destructive obsession. He

Pain, sorrow, tragedy... madness.

Elyas, the subsequent crushing heartbreak over the young man's death, the unquenching hatred he had felt for the black steed… all of those things were not exactly out of his character,

the past few months,

'Wait… wait…'

he tried to 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 the Ivory City had been subjected to by his own brother… the destruction of the Sacred Grove… the Shadow Lord making a choice to

Before what?

expression of shocked understanding

picked up

"Hope?"

nodded and looked at the vast expanse

"...Indeed. Hope."

the smile disappearing from his face. A few

Light bound Hope with seven brilliant 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,

sorcerer

another one made a choice to uproot the corruption… that was how

their fists, their fingers splintering from the immense pressure. Their crude faces did not move, but Sunny could feel an almost palpable feeling of fury radiating from their

The sorcerer sighed.

insidious influence sipped out, little by little, infecting us all… slowly devouring the whole kingdom, every living being in it, from the smallest insect to the mightiest immortal, igniting

He laughed.