Hey everyone, I have a few quick announcements:
**First**, I've been pretty sick lately, which has made it difficult to write consistently. Because of that, there may be a delay in the release schedule, and chapters might come out a bit slower than usual. I appreciate your patience and understanding.
**Second**, I want to introduce a new element to the story—*Friends*.
Some of you may remember them from the Mirror Game back in the Forgotten Shore arc. While their role was minor then, they'll be appearing more often going forward—still in the background, but with a more noticeable presence.
So, what *are* Friends?
They're odd, almost childlike creatures that follow different rules from the rest of the world. An example would be the entity that appeared in \[Character 1]'s scenes, as well as the Mirror Fiends. They're not just random additions—they're part of my original universe, the same one that includes characters like Aslan/Az (the OC who merged with Sunny in the first chapter).
**Why add them?**
Because this isn't a story where only Sunny grows stronger. Nearly every character will have their own arc, and Friends are one of the tools I'll be using to explore that growth in unique, sometimes unpredictable ways.
That said, they won't hijack the story or shift the focus—they'll appear occasionally, in ways that deepen the narrative rather than distract from it.
Thanks again for sticking with me. And if you are not in favor of this decision please tell me that . I'm willing to minimize the involvement of those story elements.
*
They had forgotten the key.
Or rather—*she* had forgotten it. Rain stood on the front steps of their house, face hot with embarrassment as she patted down her coat for the fourth time. Her two younger brothers fidgeted beside her, already whining about wanting snacks and cartoons, while Sunless stood just behind her, silent and unreadable as ever.
It wasn't the twins' fault—they didn't have keys of their own. And Sunless, naturally, had assumed *she* would have hers. He hadn't seemed particularly bothered when they discovered the mistake, just quietly tilted his head toward the end of the block and said, "We'll go to my place."
Rain followed him down the street, still half-expecting him to just teleport them inside or phase through a wall like some storybook ghost. Apparently, he could do that—*teleport*, just casually. But their home's security system would've lost its mind if he tried, and she didn't really want to explain to Dad why the entire defense grid had been tripped by one smug older brother.
So instead, they ended up outside a modest, modern duplex. One half looked pristine and lived-in, the other was clearly under renovation, with exposed paneling and scaffolding visible through the windows.
"You bought *two* houses?" Rain had asked, baffled.
Sunless had simply nodded. "I'm going combine the gardens."
Inside, the house was…well, nice. In a stark, slightly sterile kind of way. Polished stone floors, muted gray walls, sleek furniture in cool neutrals. It was tasteful, if a bit gloomy—cold in the same way her brother often felt: distant, carefully measured, and hard to read.
But what caught her attention weren't the design choices. It was the small, unexpected details: the gently sloping ramps, the wide corridors, the stairlift hugging the curve of the staircase. Everything about the place was subtly accessible—thoughtfully built to accommodate someone who might not move through the world in the same way.
That was when Rain met Effie.
"*You must be the sister!*" Effie had said with a grin, wheeling into the room in a sleek, customized chair with glowing accents on the rims. She wore a loose bomber jacket over a bright crop top, her thick curls bouncing as she rolled to a stop.
Rain had blinked, thrown off by just how…*loud* she was. Not in volume, but in presence. Vivacious. Friendly. She filled the room with motion and voice and energy, like a technicolor whirlwind.
They ended up talking over a shared slice of chocolate cake. Rain learned that Effie, like Sunless, was a Forgotten Shore survivor—a phrase that still felt a bit surreal whenever she heard it. She couldn't imagine the two of them fighting side by side. Effie was nothing like the cold, composed brother she was still getting used to. But they moved around each other easily, like they'd known each other for years.
Eventually, Sunless stepped out to call their mother about the key situation , his voice quiet in the next room.
And strangely leave a piece of cake out for his friend that may show up.
Fifteen minutes later, he returned with an answer.
"She said it's fine," he reported. "You can stay here for now."
Rain hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath until she exhaled, relieved. That would've been a *very* awkward trip back otherwise.
Now, the evening had settled in, and Effie was a one-woman entertainment machine. She'd wheeled into the open living room space and declared, "*Watch this!*" before spinning into a set of rapid, dizzying tricks with the twins cheering her on like she was a superhero.
Rain couldn't help but smile. She was still surprised by the strange friendship between the bubbly, boisterous girl in the wheelchair and her cryptic older brother who barely spoke above a whisper. And yet somehow… it worked.
Meanwhile, Sunless was giving her a very serious rundown of house rules—more like a safety briefing, really.
"Don't open the door unless you know who it is," he said, expression calm but firm. "The basement's still under construction, so stay out. Call me if you need anything—there's a system in the kitchen for food orders and emergencies."
Rain nodded, trying to absorb it all while the twins shouted "*Again! Do it again!!*" at Effie.
"We'll be back around ten," Sunless added, pulling on a long black coat. "Don't worry, you'll be fine."
Effie rolled toward the front door beside him, already zipping up her jacket. "We're going out with some friends. Karaoke and Korean barbecue, the essentials."
Rain raised an eyebrow. "You're dragging *him* to karaoke?"
Effie winked. "I don't drag. I *inspire.*"
Sunless, already holding the door open, simply said, "Bye."
"Be safe!" Rain called after them.
Effie threw a peace sign over her shoulder. "You too, babysitter!"
And with that, the door closed behind them, and Rain was left standing in her brother's strangely elegant, eerily quiet home… with two hyper nine-year-olds and a rapidly collapsing cushion fort.
She looked around at the chaos the twins were making and sighed, half-laughing.
"…Well. Guess I'm in charge now."
'*'
The karaoke parlor Kai had rented felt like stepping into another world. One where everything shimmered just a little too perfectly, where the walls were padded in pearl-toned velvet and the ceiling glittered like a starfield trapped under glass. A low ambient glow warmed the room, catching on crystal accents and brushed chrome, while couches of near-sinful softness curved in elegant arcs across the room. It smelled faintly of citrus and expensive perfume, and even the air seemed curated—cool, fresh, carefully engineered.
Sunny lingered near the entrance for a beat, taking it all in with a faint frown. This was not the kind of place you stumbled into. It was the kind of place you were *invited* to—if you were lucky, or rich, or, in Kai's case, both.
Even with all the wealth Sunny had recently gained, he wouldn't have picked a venue like this. Not for a casual gathering. Not even for his birthday. It was too much.
Fortunately, it hadn't been his choice.
Kai had planned it all.
The former idol practically glowed under the ambient lights, a walking firework in designer clothes. He swept through the suite like a storm of charisma, hugging people, cracking jokes, pulling them into songs or clinking glasses. It was effortless—charm honed into a weapon and wielded with kindness. And somehow, he'd pulled off the impossible: wrangling half a dozen Fire Keepers into one room, at one time.
Most of them hadn't seen each other since they'd escaped the Shore. Everyone had scattered—some trying to reclaim their past lives, others building entirely new ones. And yet here they were. Not out of duty or survival, but because Kai had called, and they had answered.
Aiko sat perched in a corner like a lounging queen, sipping from a highball glass and observing the chaos with sharp eyes and a small, indulgent smile. Gale had already hijacked the karaoke system, his silver hair bouncing wildly as he belted out some nostalgic track with the enthusiasm of a drunk bard. Even Julius had shown up, if only for twenty minutes—enough time to commandeer the mic, deliver a thunderous folk song, and vanish like a myth.
Sunny found himself doing what he always did: drifting at the edge of it all. Present but peripheral. He'd sung once, mostly because Effie had shoved a mic into his hands. He'd talked a bit of shop with Aiko, laughed at something Sasha said, tried not to think too hard about the slice of cake he'd left behind at home.
More importantly: the *Party Pet.*
Az's memories had insisted it would appear before the night was over—some strange, harmless anomaly that nested in celebratory cakes during significant dates. Probably completely ridiculous. But Sunny still checked his comm now and then, just in case Rain messaged. Not that he was worried. Just... cautious.
Effie flew past him in her chair, drink in one hand, tiara askew on her head, a pink feather boa trailing behind her like a cape. She was glowing, not with drink but pure adrenaline, her laughter loud and bright as she spun in place and narrowly missed colliding with two stunned Fire Keepers.
"You're next, broody!" she shouted over the music, pointing dramatically at him mid-verse.
Sunny raised an eyebrow. "I think the mic has suffered enough."
"Lame!" she crowed, but her grin was unbothered, her joy untouchable.
He watched her spin away again, and his smile lingered a little longer than expected. The fire, the wildness, the sheer refusal to be pitied. Effie had always been sharp-edged, but tonight she burned. And sunless knew she would be enjoying the night life even more once they got the second Nightmare behind them and she her legs back.
Sasha sat quietly nearby, head bobbing along to the beat, fingers tapping out a rhythm on her knee. Around them, the others sang, swayed, shouted lyrics they didn't remember, or just leaned back into the glow of it all.
And then Sunny realized something. No one was watching him.
Not *watching* in the way he'd grown used to—like waiting for orders, or reading him for weakness, or gauging his usefulness. They weren't expecting anything. No tactics, no plans, no power. They were just here. Because they'd fought together. Because they still gave a damn. Because Kai had asked.
He wasn't a weapon in this room. He wasn't a threat. He wasn't a commander.
He was just... Sunny.
And that felt strange. Not bad. Just new.
He glanced at the glowing mic in Gale's hands, at Aiko's amused smirk, at Effie—who was now shouting about a sing-off while attempting to balance a drink on her head—and finally back to his comm.
Still nothing.
He shrugged. If Az's memories were right, the Party Pet would show up. If not... well, he had cake waiting either way.
He reached for a cocktail—sweet enough to rot his teeth—and, after a second of hesitation, grabbed one of the glittery party hats off the snack table and tugged it on.
Then he called out across the chaos, voice raised just enough to carry:
"Kai! You feel like singing some MJ? Like in the castle?"
Kai's face lit up instantly, eyes sparkling. "You *know* I do!"
The music swelled, the lights pulsed, and Sunny stepped forward.
Just this once, he let the party pull him in.
'*'
The scent of sizzling meat hung thick in the air—smoky, savory, with a hint of something sweet charring at the edges. Synthetic beef crackled on the tabletop grill, joined by glossy skewers of vegetables, marinated seafood, and an array of dipping sauces arranged like a miniature color wheel. The last stop of Sunny's birthday wasn't loud like the karaoke parlor had been. It was quieter. More intimate. A small but unmistakably elite restaurant, tucked just off the main street, with soft lighting and pale wood interiors that smelled faintly of cedar and charcoal.
They'd arrived in a private transit vehicle, summoned from the curb outside the parlor when the others had said their goodbyes. Just the three of them now—Sunny, Kai, and Effie—slipping from neon chaos into something slower, warmer. Their laughter still carried, though, filling the cozy alcove of their table with energy.
"Can you *believe* it?" Effie said, gesturing with her chopsticks like they were swords. "He looked me dead in the face and said my hair should be *red.* Red!"
Kai gasped theatrically, nearly dropping a piece of pork belly in outrage. "*Red?* That's criminal. Not to be rude, but babe—red is *so* not your palette. You'd look like a traffic cone."
Effie rolled her eyes. "Apparently it *tests better* with younger demographics. Or boosts plush sales. Or whatever other ridiculous marketing excuse they cooked up. As if I care about how 'merchandiseable' my looks are."
Her tone was mocking, but Sunny knew the glint in her eyes wasn't entirely a joke. She'd mentioned the show before—the animated retelling of her life in the Forgotten Shore, paired in release with the dramatized series based on *The Host.* Thanks to the Dreamscape and ai hyper-accelerating production, both shows were nearly done. Afterward, there'd be a short animated feature based on Sunny's own—he supposed *heavily adapted*—origin. A mixture of his past and Aslan's, woven together into something the public might actually understand.
Kai had plans too. A full Nightingale comeback tour. A quiet, careful return to the spotlight. And then the government's pièce de résistance: a glittering, bombastic live-action epic about Nephis herself. The story of chaining Star. Of her deeds on the Shore. The ultimate mythologizing.
Sunny didn't mind the idea of being fictionalized. He just hoped they got Effie's hair right.
"Did you at least threaten him with bodily harm?" he asked dryly, flipping a slice of meat.
"Obviously," Effie replied, smug. "Politely."
Kai grinned, eyes crinkling. "Classic you."
Sunny chuckled—but then paused.
Something brushed the edge of his mind. Not a sound. Not a movement. Just a *shift*. A shadow sliding in sideways through the blind spots of his awareness. He turned, almost casually, toward the restaurant's front door. It stood slightly ajar, the way it might if someone had left it that way for a moment of fresh air.
And there it was.
A nose. No—a *snoot*. Pressed just inside the gap, smudged faintly with frosting. The creature's upper half resembled a cat, but only loosely—its proportions were strange, eyes wide and bright, intelligent in a way that made Sunny's skin prickle.
Balanced jauntily between its ears: a party hat.
In the sliver of a second he saw it, the Party Pet blinked... and was gone.
Just like that.
Vanished.
Sunny blinked, uncertain whether he'd imagined it—but a smear of frosting remained on the floor just inside the door.
Before he could say anything, Effie tugged at his sleeve, pulling him back to the table.
"You see this doofus right here?" she announced, leaning in to Kai, who had just complimented how healthy and energetic she looked. "He's been feeding me five-star meals. Every. Single. Day."
"Aww, thanks, Effie," Sunny said, managing not to smile too much.
"No problem, doofus," she fired back smoothly.
He reached over and stuffed a rib into her mouth before she could sass him further. She chomped down with a satisfied grunt, chewing while maintaining aggressive eye contact.
Kai threw his head back and laughed, leaning into the table as if trying to bottle the moment.
Outside, the night stretched quiet and deep.
Inside, the grill hissed, the sauces gleamed, and for a little while longer, it was just the three of them—eating, laughing, and existing in the soft afterglow of survival, of friendship, and the weird, winding road that had somehow led them here.
'*'