Sunny was deep in focus, his attention anchored to the Crazy incarnation seated within the Nameless Temple.
The shadows around him pulsed with quiet labor as he meticulously wove six masks—each an echo of Weaver's Mask, laced with a crude, unstable mimicry of the [Mantle of Lies]. Cheap… but sufficient.
And then a scream tore through the silence of the Forgotten Shore.
Sharp.
Wild.
Real.
The thread in his hand almost split apart.
'Cassie!'
The thought didn't form—it exploded, already moving through him.
In the distance, Fenrir was already beside her, a hulking silhouette of teeth and instinct.
Guardian by nature, even if he wore a wolf's shape instead of a dog's.
Sunny's jaw tightened.
His expression shifted. Grim. Focused.
He vanished into shadow, and reemerged at her side—kneeling, arms already around her before the last echoes of her cry had faded into the dark.
"It's me… I'm here. You're safe."
Cassie was trembling, fervent. Heat bled off her skin like she was burning from the inside.
He didn't ask. Just lifted her up with care and carried her to the center of the platform.
Somewhere solid. Somewhere the light—however dim—still held sway.
Nephis and Caster were already awake.
Weapons drawn, eyes cold, hearts loud.
Even in the presence of a Sovereign, old instincts died hard.
"It's alright," Sunny called out, voice steady. "seems like she had a vision."
He looked down again. Fragile. Blind. And yet always seeing more than the rest of them combined.
"Hey, Cass…" His voice softened, curved at the edges. Kind. Caring.
"Summon the Endless Spring, please."
There was a pause. Just long enough to feel like a lifetime. Then, with a shaky breath, she obeyed.
A bottle appeared in her hands—blue glass, elegantly shaped, trembling with her grip.
She held it toward him.
"Not for me," Sunny said with a short laugh. But it was hollow.
His concern leaked through, whether he wanted it to or not.
"For yourself."
He helped guide the bottle to her lips, her fingers too unsteady to manage on their own. Water spilled over, wetting his shroud. He didn't care.
She drank.
Just a few sips. Just enough to stay grounded.
When she finished, he gave her a moment—then asked, voice low and careful:
"Cass… do you want to tell me what you saw?"
No answer. Just a slow shake of her head.
Sunny nodded. A breath left him—longer than it needed to be.
"That's okay," he murmured. "Take your time."
He manifested a cot with a flick of thought, letting it rise from the shadows.
Gently, he placed her down.
He turned to leave—then stopped.
Cassie's hand was wrapped tight around his arm.
"Please, Sunny…" she whispered, barely audible. "Don't go."
His smile was faint.
"Alright, Cass."
He conjured a chair and sat beside her, a silent sentinel.
Behind them, the others drifted back to their hammocks—though none truly rested. The air was too thick. The silence too loud.
Sleep would not be returning tonight.
(Yo guys… why is this starting to feel like a Sussie??? Thankfully I already had him think of her as a sister — I think)
---
Morning came slow.
The kind of slow that bled from silence, not light.
One by one, the cohort stirred—wary eyes and heavier thoughts.
But not Sunny. He hadn't slept.
Didn't need to. Not yet.
Cassie was the last to rise, her breath shallow, hands still curled from dreams—or memories.
Everyone circled, quiet. Expectant.
Waiting for her to speak.
Her lips parted—
—and Sunny cut in, all mischief and grin.
"Before we get to the serious bits…"
He stood with an exaggerated flourish.
"It's breakfast time!"
From beside his chair, a familiar chest manifested.
The Marvelous Mimic.
Still in its original form—more or less. No teeth this time. Just charm.
Sunny opened it and reached inside, fishing out a steaming pot of coffee and four porcelain cups.
As much as he wanted to "accidentally" forget Caster, he didn't.
Too petty. Left a sour aftertaste.
Besides, some part of him pitied the poor guy.
He clapped once—pure theatrics—and a table rose from the floor. All shadow.
Atop it, a tablecloth shimmered into place, woven from thread-thin strands of living darkness.
The cups, though, weren't shadows.
Porcelain white. Smooth. Faintly warm. Carved from the bones of a Great Beast.
The pot, ironically, was just… a pot.
Basic. Metal. Functional.
Sunny glanced around. His eyes passed over Caster a little faster than the others.
"Today, we feast." A beat. "On waffles."
Two extra arms burst from his sides, wreathed in lazy curls of gloom.
From the mimic, he pulled four plates, each veiled in a thin layer of shadow.
They floated gently to the table.
Next came the utensils—laid one by one, all elegant, all gleaming.
Except one set.
That one came with a knife so blunt it might've been ceremonial. He placed it in front of Caster with silent judgment.
Then came the chairs—summoned in a neat ring, all made of shadows.
One of them was slightly crooked. It wobbled with subtle insult.
Sunny didn't comment.
It was definitely not intentional.
'Definitely Not! I'm not that petty'
Before inviting the others to sit, he summoned a jagged bone of darkness and lobbed it over to Fenrir.
The wolf caught it mid-air, then dropped to chew on it like a domesticated mutt.
Sunny raised a brow.
"…That's a dog thing," he muttered. "Not judging. Just…." he exhaled, dejected "… nothing."
Then, he turned back and guided Cassie gently to her seat, helping her find each utensil by touch, taking his time with the knife and fork.
Finally, he took his own seat—at the head, naturally.
With a snap of his fingers, the dark veil covering the plates vanished.
Waffles.
Golden. Crisp.
Steam still curling upward like a spell being cast.
Everyone blinked.
Silence lingered.
Sunny noticed the stare first—from Nephis, of course.
He raised an eyebrow.
"What?"
Nephis hesitated, then said carefully,
"Well, Sovereign Sunless… not that we're complaining, but—when you said breakfast, we assumed… you know. Monster meat."
Sunny recoiled, mock horror in full display.
"Seriously? You think my standards are so low I'd feed myself monster jerky for breakfast?"
He clicked his tongue, shaking his head in feigned disappointment.
"Please."
He picked up his utensils, elegant fingers hovering over the plate like a conductor before the first note.
"Dig in."
At first, no one moved.
Then Nephis, ever the brave one, cut off a corner and took a bite.
Her eyes flickered. Just slightly.
Cassie followed, a soft hum rising from her throat as she smiled—small, unsure, but genuine.
Even Fenrir paused mid-gnaw, ears twitching.
Caster, meanwhile, stared at his plate like it had insulted his lineage.
"Uh," he muttered, prodding the waffle with his dull knife. "Is mine… undercooked?"
Sunny didn't even glance at him.
Caster squinted. Then glanced down at his utensils—particularly the insultingly blunt knife.
He tried cutting into the waffle with it. It squeaked.
He glanced at the others, who were eating with serene silence.
Caster leaned in toward his own shadow, whispering,
"Blink once if this is a setup."
His shadow blinked.
Twice.
With a sigh of deep spiritual exhaustion, Caster gave up and used the fork. He took a single, suspicious bite—
—and froze.
The world didn't change. Choirs didn't sing.
But something inside him crumbled. A wall he didn't know he'd built.
He swallowed.
"This tastes… Supreme."
Sunny arched an eyebrow. "Naturally. I made it."
Caster blinked, eyes wide. "You made this? As in…?"
Sunny sipped his coffee, indifferent.
"As in with shadows, burnt offerings, and a vague desire to avoid killing a certain someone."
Cassie stifled a giggle. Nephis hid a smirk behind her cup.
Caster stared down at his plate. The shadows at his feet curled smugly.
He whispered again.
"…I hate you."
His shadow nodded in agreement. Then nudged the fork back into his hand.
And so, in silent defeat, Caster kept eating.
Because sometimes, betrayal tastes like waffles. Supreme ones.
---
The table was still.
Cassie sat with her hands in her lap, eyes glazed. A tremor ran through her shoulders—not fear, not yet. Just the residue of something unwelcome.
Then, she whispered:
"…I saw… sand."
The word came hollow, brittle.
"Not real. Not—not sand. But it thought it was."
She swallowed.
"It was empty. But full of things that weren't alive. Like everything had turned to ash."
No one spoke.
Sunny, gestured, forming a wall of shadows separating the three and Caster.
Cassie's voice shook as she continued:
"There was a… shape. Big. Wrong. A tomb, maybe. I think. Built from… something."
Her fingers twitched, clawing slightly at her cloak.
"And beyond it…"
She fell silent.
The two leaned in, but no one dared touch her.
"Everything… was rotting. Not just things. Not just bodies."
She sounded almost confused.
"Even the light, was decaying. The shadows were rusting…"
Her lips parted, but nothing came for a long moment.
Then:
"He knew."
She turned her face to Sunny's general direction. Her breath hitched.
Then—
She stopped speaking…
"What did he know?" Sunny asked
...
"What did who know?"
She replied, blissfully unaware.