Shadow Slave

Consumed by despondence, Sunny tried to find solace in anger. But it was of no use. Then, Sunny tried to remind himself that the Ananke he knew was just an apparition conjured by the Spell... the real Ananke - the true Priestess of the Nightmare Spell who had lived in the real Tomb of Ariel - was long dead, her spirit and bones taken by the Great River.

She had never met Sunny and Nephis. She had never traveled to the far reaches of the future or made delicious small pies for two complete strangers.

In fact, it was not at all clear if the real Ananke shared the same fate as the one he knew. The Serpent King had brought many challengers into the Nightmare, after all - their actions had to have changed the flow of events within this version of the Tomb of Ariel.

Perhaps the real Weave was never destroyed by one of the Six Plagues, or had been wiped out entirely long before Ananke was born.

But telling himself that Ananke was not real did not help either. It never did. Be it the First Nightmare, the Second, or the Third, Sunny could not help but treat the people he met as real.

With a heavy sigh, he turned to look at the magnificent structure they were approaching. It was an unusual one. Much larger than most buildings in Weave, it was situated in the very heart of the city, on a solitary island-ship that floated some distance away from the rest. The artificial island was connected to the neighboring ones with rope bridges of white silk, resembling a spider sitting at the center of a vast web.

The structure itself was tall and imposing, built of roughly cut black stone. Tattered white banners were hanging from its walls, fluttering in the wind. It looked nebulous and sinister, like a temple of some dark deity.

...Sunny had an idea who that deity was.

Looking up, he saw a lonely figure standing on the roof of the numinous temple, looking down at the desolate ruin of Weave. The black silk of its long hair and tunic remained motionless despite the strong wind. He couldn't see the figure's face from the distance, but silhouetted against the azure sky, it seemed strangely grim.

'There you are.'

The Sin of Solace had finally shown himself after hiding somewhere for a long time. And yet, the wraith was simply observing the ghost city from above instead of tormenting Sunny with snide remarks... its behavior had been getting stranger and stranger ever since the start of the Nightmare.

'Well, good. Stay away for as long as you want, you won't be missed.'

Paying attention to the apparition through one of the shadows, Sunny followed Ananke across one of the rope bridges. As they got closer to the ominous temple, Sunny and Nephis felt a strong sense of unease... however, the young priestess looked unperturbed. If anything, her expression grew calmer.

"This is the last place we will visit in Weave."

Even her voice sounded lighter.

for a few moments, then asked in a

this... the temple

head

was elusive and had no desire to be worshipped. It is useless to worship the Demon of Fate, anyway... no matter how virtuous you are and how many offerings you make, fate will always remain uncaring, unchanged,

to this dark

temple of the Nightmare Spell. Of the gift Weaver has given us to rely on instead of the

'Of fate itself...'

to have created the Spell to resist the very thing that was supposed

by the chains of fate, just like I am bound

not been able to escape

despite everything that had happened, he still wanted to be

within his soul, smoldering, too vast and searing to be put

- he still stubbornly clung to the desperate wish of breaking free of his bonds. It was just that the tumultuous twists and

then glanced at Nephis

do something extreme like burning

the young priestess would just watch silently as her home was destroyed. And

she wasn't, Sunny simply did not want to fight

grandmother, after all. Even though Neph had

"Let's hurry inside."

apostles, the young priestess headed toward the gates of the sinister temple with a smile

and Nephis followed, neither of them saying

the dark entrance and found themselves within a vast hall. Its interior was shrouded in darkness, creating a solemn and mysterious atmosphere - for everyone except Sunny, of

was quietly beautiful. The intricate tapestry of falling light resembled the breathtaking weave of the inner workings of the Spell, while the darkness of

strangely

enormous spiderwebs growing freely between

pointed to them, mentally

think an abomination did make a nest