Only the first part of the last chapter (same as first part of this ch) was real, rest was just an antic
Somewhere in the hallowed gloom of Godgrave, within a temple carved from ruin itself, the Scion of Shadows nearly toppled in disbelief.
He was saved not by poise or providence, but by the frantic devotion of his shadows—who, rather than see their deity faceplant into sanctified stone, chose annihilation over disgrace and caught him mid-fall like loyal minions on divine overtime.
Meanwhile, in the Academy, Sunny appeared composed as ever. A perfect statue of calm.
Nephis, on the other hand, faltered. Only slightly. But for someone like her, that was as loud as a scream.
"Ah, but don't misunderstand," Sunny began, his voice mild as cold fire. "I am not in accord with those three pitiful fools who think their sovereignty will save humanity."
He stepped forward, and Nephis instinctively raised the tenebrific odachi. Her movements were sharp, deliberate.
Fear? No—vigilance.
The Nephis he loved would never be frightened by mere words.
"Worry not, Lady Nephis," Sunny said with a small tilt of his head. "I am here because I have taken a liking to you…"
She blinked, confused. A flicker passed across her face—'A liking to me?'
Sunny stilled. Realized. Cursed himself.
Backpedaled with the grace of a man who hated every step.
"What I meant," he said, voice tightening, "was that I've taken a liking to your opinion of them."
The tone shifted. A hush wrapped around his words. As he walked closer, he lifted a finger and gently tapped the odachi. It dissolved into vapor and shadow beneath his touch.
"It is my regret," he said softly, "that I could not save your father. He was… a great loss."
A beat.
"For all of us."
Nephis didn't flinch. Didn't breathe. But her silence held a sharp edge. Even disarmed, she didn't lower her guard.
"How do you know my opinion of them?"
Sunny didn't answer immediately. Inside, the walls of his mind were crumbling. Guilt clawed its way up from his chest like rot.
Damnation. Too much. Again.
But outwardly, he remained a silhouette of control. Barely.
"Nothing stays hidden from the shadows, Lady Nephis," he said quietly. "Some might even say… you told me yourself."
Nephis nodded in understanding, then asked: "And what do you intend to do now?"
A pause. Thicker than before.
"I intend to form an alliance. I've seen your strength. Not just in battle, but in conviction. And I believe, when the time comes… you'll stand at the front of humanity's last hope."
His voice turned low, heavy.
"…Not just against the nightmare creatures."
Another silence.
"…But against whatever else may come."
Nephis studied him, the same way one studies a dying star—too far to touch, too close to ignore.
"And the other three?" she asked at last. "And what makes you think I'll even survive long enough to matter?"
The shadows in the room stirred.
With a wave, they coiled and molded into a pair of chairs—elegant, grim things. He gestured to the one across from him.
"It's simple," he said. "They're cowards. Unfit for what lies ahead. But even cowards can serve a purpose. If not as warriors…"
He leaned forward.
"…then as dogs."
His smile cut. Bitter. Quiet.
"And if they won't kneel, then they'll be offered mercy—my mercy, of death."
He leaned back, slower now. The edge dulled, but not gone.
"As for your survival… fret not. I'll see you through the Dream Realm. Through whatever else may follow. Until you reach sovereignty yourself."
Nephis's hands had started to move—subconscious motions, nervous, uncertain. She caught herself, stilled them.
Then looked him in the eye.
"I understand," she said. "But why now?"
Her voice cracked—just once.
"Why only now?"
The air thickened. Heavy with things unsaid.
"If you were here… if you saw it all… why didn't you stop them?"
Another crack. Sharper.
"You could've stopped them." Her voice broke fully now, the syllables fraying at the edges. "My clan. My family. My father—"
She stopped. Bit down on her lip.
"They could have helped you. They would have helped you. So why?"
Sunny looked away.
And when he returned his gaze, he looked older. More human than sovereign. Haunted.
"I couldn't."
His voice was hollow. Dry as a crypt.
"I had no strength. No chance. No place in the story."
He inhaled sharply through his nose.
"I've lived… many lives. Across many shadows. I don't carry many regrets."
A pause.
"But that one…"
His voice faltered.
"That one has never left me."
He raised his head, and for the first time, let her see what he'd kept hidden.
Eyes of black, drowning—not with rage, but ruin.
"I don't want to carry it anymore."
He extended his hand.
"So. Lady Nephis. Will you allow my pitifully fated existence to stand beside you—assist you—until we are equals in strength, in purpose, in resolve?"
Nephis stared at the hand. Then at him.
Her fingers moved. Hesitated.
She reached forward—
And touched only air.
Sovereign Sunless had vanished.
Silence pressed in like fog. Cold, aching.
Her hand didn't drop.
Not for a long time.
Not until a voice cut through the stillness:
"All Awakened are under curfew at this hour! Who is in the armory?!"
It was Awakened Rock.
And Nephis… was alone.
***
The silence in Godgrave remained, heavy as judgment.
Somewhere else, far away from any sane mortal—
Sunny exploded.
"Damnation."
Back at the Nameless Temple, Sunny stood—ireful—on the verge of shattering his freshly repaired Citadel.
Again.
"Don't you dare break anything!" Crazy hollered.
Lazy threw his hands up and promptly vanished.
From the shadows near the throne, a dry voice rasped like bone across stone.
"Is your mind still intact, boy?"
A skull, pristine and white, sat perched beside the throne—its eye sockets empty.
Eurys.
Sunny exhaled and waved off his incarnations. They dissolved into shadows and silence.
"You try living with multiple bodies and tell me how you hold up," he muttered.
"Fair," Eurys said, voice brittle but amused. "Though I must say, watching it from the sidelines has been… wildly entertaining."
Sunny sighed.
"I need to reveal the existence of the Shadow clan to the world, that is the only way for it to grow quick enough. I have the power, yet… something isn't fitting quite right."
Sunny dropped into his throne, eyes narrowed.
"So. What should I do?"
He'd briefed the old skull earlier—laid out the tangled mess of Sovereigns and secrets. Now, it was time to hear the opinion of a… man? Whatever, someone who'd once slit a god's throat and was punished for it.
Eurys clicked his teeth together in thought, a hollow tap echoing in the chamber.
"You're circling the truth already," he said. "The foundation of any clan is myth. Reputation. And the cornerstone of reputation," he paused, "is power."
He let that sink in, then added:
"Adopt two personas. One public, the other cloaked in shadow. Should be easy, considering your… peculiar composition."
Sunny tilted his head. "Just like when I played the humble Master Sunless and the Lord of Shadows."
"Exactly." Eurys's voice warmed. "You're already a deceiver—if not a liar, just do it with more intent."
There was something… gleeful in the way he said it.
Sunny raised a brow. "You're enjoying this."
The skull grinned—somehow—without lips. "What can I say? Watching you youngsters play at politics is amusing."
Sunny leaned forward. "So what's our play?"
"Most of the world doesn't know about the Sovereigns," Eurys replied. "That ignorance is power. Control the flow of information, and you shape their fear. You don't need to fight them—you need to paint them as public enemy number one. Justify their fall."
Sunny stared.
"You know," he murmured, "I could just threaten them. I have the strength to do so."
Eurys clicked his jaw, a brittle sound like the cracking of ancient stone.
"But what then? You'll still need justification. Not just for the masses—but for the Saints and Masters who serve under them. Replace rulers without a cause, and you'll only have more enemies."
Sunny leaned back, considering that. "So… where do we start?"
If Eurys had lips, there would've been a smile on them..
"First, boy," he said, voice dry with ancient mirth, "we need you to hold a press conference."
Somehow, Sunny knew this was more so about his satisfaction rather than achieving their goals.
'Guess it's time to give Jet a call.'
At that moment, Sunny was reminded the importance of a communicator.
***
A slender young man walked the streets of NQSC, clad in a black shroud that seemed to swallow light whole. What was curious, however, was that the man was handsome beyond reason—causing girls, and even some guys, to nearly trip.
Sunny had just exited a normal-looking shop.
'Truly, buying a communicator without citizenship is not an easy task.'
But that was nothing a transcendent soul shard couldn't solve.
Truthfully, Sunny had memorized Jet's contact details ever since he first got them.
Why, you may ask?
'No reason at all! I just wanted to.'
Sunny dialed Jet's number.
It rang several times…
Then—
"If this is another solicitor I SWEAR TO THE DEAD GODS I WILL F—"
"It's me, Sunny," he cut her off.
"Oh… Hey, Sunny! Everything good?" Her voice instantly flipped, all sunshine.
'Seems she doesn't know I'm not in the academy anymore.'
"Well… almost. I think it's better if we meet in person."
Jet didn't reply immediately. She was probably checking her schedule.
"If you aren't free, that's no worry. I can come to you."
On the other end, Jet sighed.
"No, Sunny. It seems I'm too free. I'll meet you at the academy cafeteria tomorrow morning. Breakfast time."
'Too free?' Sunny had assumed government employees were always drowning in work.
"Alright then, I'll be there."
They exchanged goodbyes and hung up.
Sunny, who had been walking the entire time, now stood before a supermarket.
'Well, I don't need to eat that often as a Sovereign… however…'
Next thing he knew, he was carrying twelve kilograms of meat, eight kilograms of beef, and ten kilograms of miscellaneous items—vegetables, spices, the works.
The cashier had given him a look, to say the least. Was it because he was casually lugging it all without effort? Or because he'd paid with an Ascended soul shard?
In truth, Sunny didn't know the shard's exact value—just that it was worth far more than the groceries.
Transferring everything into his soul sea, Sunny opened a dream gate and retreated to the Nameless Temple.
'I really need to buy a home back there. Preferably the same one…'
---
Somewhere near Bastion, a shadow of Sunny had taken a detour and was now heading toward Shipwreck Island.
Sunny had chosen not to extend his shadow sense too far—it would alert Anvil. And Sunny had no intention of facing him. Not yet.
As soon as the island drifted into range, Sunny shadow-stepped directly into the ruined ship.
The once-grand vessel was now moss-ridden, its hull cracked and broken. The bow was completely shattered.
'Don't worry. I'll have you back at peak performance in no time. Well… some time.'
He stepped into the armored compartment—the ship's treasury. Among the three chests, a long adamantine one brimmed with Noctis Coins.
This time, the chest hadn't been attacked by a chain worm. Its wood was dull, untouched by regeneration.
'You won't be fooling me twice.'
Sunny summoned Soul Serpent and willed it into a tenebrific odachi.
Then—
In a single, clean arc, he sliced the chest open—cutting through more than a few gold coins in the process.
'Damnation. Should've been more careful…' Sunny cursed inwardly. It was a painful loss.
[You have slain Fallen Devil: Mordant Mimic.]
[Death recognizes its own.]
[A shadow finds solace within you.]
[You have received a memory.]
Sunny summoned his runes, a sharp grin on his smug face.
Memories: [Silver Bell], [Origin Blade], [Puppeteer's Shroud], [Shadow Lantern], [Covetous Coffer]
He dismissed the runes and dissolved into the shadows, continuing his journey toward Bastion—claiming the shadows of every corrupted creature he passed along the way.
'I should probably create an armor memory for Nephis and Cassie. They will soon be ending up in the forgotten shore… Unless—'
'No! What's wrong with you Sunny! Pure Thoughts!'
---
Back at the Nameless Temple, an incarnation of Sunny sat in quiet conversation with Eurys, converting the Covetous Coffer into a shadow.
"Do you know any decent cultivation techniques?"
Sunny had considered creating one himself—but surely, among the Gods and Daemons, someone had forged a worthy path for their followers.
"Hmm… Let me think," Eurys mused, as Sunny studied the remnants of the Mordant Mimic in his soul sea.
'Shouldn't be much different from last time.'
"Ah! There was one technique Heart created for her followers," the skull finally said.
Sunny turned his gaze toward the ancient relic.
"Did it have a name?"
"Well…"
Eurys spoke with a hint of disapproval in his dry voice.
"It was a technique reserved for a chosen few. Called—"
"The Heavenly Immortal Cultivation Technique."