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.

Colosseum and facing Solvane, that beautiful

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.

Every emotion was sharper and cut deeper, every vice or virtue grew out of control until it turned into a destructive obsession. He had experienced it all, lived through all of it in the nightmares

Pain, sorrow, tragedy... madness.

toward 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, but slightly more consuming than they should have

past few

'Wait… wait…'

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

Before what?

an expression of shocked understanding

then cautiously picked up the emerald amulet.

"Hope?"

and looked at the vast expanse of the

"...Indeed. Hope."

disappearing from his

Lords. He entrusted each of us with the fate of another, and a solemn duty to never let the Demon

face grew dark and cold. The sorcerer

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

splintering from the immense pressure. Their crude faces did not

The sorcerer sighed.

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 our

He laughed.