Shadow Re: Slave

After a while, once the group had talked through their thoughts to digest the shocking truths about Sunny, they finally went to sleep. As planned, they tied themselves together and secured their lines to the headless stone statue. Nephis, in a strange moment of instinct and longing, tied her rope directly to Sunny's — closer than necessary. She didn't fully understand why. She just wanted to be near him.

And in the middle of the night, as the storm howled outside their shelter, Sunny's killing intent began to radiate through the air again — dark, suffocating, unnatural. But before anyone else stirred, Nephis, almost without thinking, reached out and gently took Sunny's hand.

Just like he had done for her when he walked her back to the outer settlement after her breakdown.

And instantly, the aura vanished. The pressure, the hatred, the death… it all disappeared, as if it had never been there. Only the warmth of his hand remained — pulsing with quiet strength, flowing into her chest and spreading through her heart like a calm flame.

She blinked, surprised at her own reaction and his even more. She didn't think it would be that effective but she still didn't want to let go.

He smelled… nice, she realized. Not in some flowery way, but something subtle and grounded. Clean, like the quiet after a storm. She had noticed it when she tied herself to him — perhaps a bit too closely — but she couldn't identify what it was that smelled so good. Now that her face was only a short distance from his, she was certain of it.

It was him. Sunny.

And somehow, that made her feel safe.

She fell asleep still holding his hand, like a child lulled by safety after a nightmare. It was peaceful.

But that peace didn't last long.

All of them were suddenly and unpleasantly awakened by a violent lurch — cold water surged through the shelter as the stone statue plunged beneath the waves. They coughed, choked, and sputtered in surprise, each swallowing a mouthful of icy water as the massive construct crouched low to fight something ancient and monstrous a Depth Dweller.

Sunny instinctively tried to curl his hands into fists as the cold water surged around him, his body reacting to the jolt before his mind fully caught up. But as he clenched his right hand, he felt something — soft, warm, and smooth.

He froze.

It wasn't the cold or the danger that stopped him — it was the realization that he was holding a hand. A girl's hand.

Her hand.

The girl he had loved once… and slowly, quietly, was beginning to love again. Not with the confused, distant longing he had felt upon returning — but with something real. Something present.

He looked up at her, searching her face.

Her eyes were wide with surprise. And then, just for a moment, the slightest flush of color crept onto her cheeks before she quickly masked it with her usual calm, distant expression. The one she always wore to keep others from seeing too much.

Then suddenly, as if only just realizing they were still holding hands, she pulled hers away — not harshly, but with a quiet urgency.

He let her go, even though something inside him resisted, clinging for just a moment longer than it should have.

And then, as he sat back, the thought struck him: What if she didn't want to hold my hand? What if he had grabbed it in his sleep without knowing?

The blush crept up his own neck now, hot despite the freezing wind and water. He quickly looked away, suddenly embarrassed, and made a quiet mental note:

Apologize later. Just in case.

Nephis was at least as embarrassed as Sunny — maybe even more.

That was why she had pulled her hand back the moment their eyes locked. She thought she had seen something in his gaze… a quiet question, perhaps. But she couldn't be sure. And that uncertainty unsettled her.

What if he hadn't liked it?

What if he thought it was strange, or worse — pitiful?

She had reached out to him, for real. She had sought contact, emotional and physical, for the first time in her life. The thought hit her harder than the freezing water ever could.

And now, all she could feel was the echo of that vulnerability — the warmth of his hand still lingering in her palm, and the fear that he might reject what it had meant.

She hated it.

Not him. Not even the moment.

Just… this version of herself. The one that felt unsure. Exposed.

She had always seen herself as mature, more focused, more resolute than others her age. A girl made of iron and fire — shaped by a burden no one else could carry.

So why had she just acted like a shy, confused teenage girl? Like some ordinary teenage girl afraid of being laughed at for reaching out?

It was out of character. It was foolish. It was terrifying.

But… it was done.

"And what's done is done and cannot be undone."

They all held their breath until the stone colossus finally emerged from the black depths of the water once again. The moment it did, none of them could return to sleep — the jolt had been too sharp, the cold too biting, and the tension too thick.

Nephis quietly stepped outside the shelter, her boots crunching softly against the slick stone. The storm was gone and nowheare to be seen. She needed fresh air… and space to think. The night was still heavy and grey, the sky above a motionless shroud. She walked toward the edge of the giant's shoulder and stood there, staring out over the shifting fog, trying to quiet her thoughts.

Then she heard him behind her.

Sunny.

He had followed her.

A small part of her had hoped he would. She had wanted to say something — to explain herself, to make sure he didn't misunderstand, or worse, distance himself again. But before she could find the words, he spoke first.

His voice was quiet. Calm. Neutral.

"I'm sorry," he said without looking at her. "I must have grabbed your hand in my sleep. Just… instinct, I guess. I'll make sure it doesn't happen again. I hope it didn't make you too uncomfortable. I didn't mean to cross a line."

He hesitated for a moment, then added, more softly:

"I hope you can forgive me."

Nephis stood silently, eyes still fixed on the mist-covered horizon. Her heart beat just a little faster. That wasn't what she'd expected.

She had braced herself for judgment. For distance. For him pulling away.

But instead… he apologized. Not for himself — not in the way others apologized when they wanted to be forgiven — but for how she might have felt. As if her discomfort mattered more than his pride.

That meant something.

And for Nephis, that changed everything.

She wanted to sound as composed as he had, but it didn't quite work. Her voice wasn't awkward, exactly — just soft… and slightly unsteady, not like her usual cold and indifferent voice. Years of training, of masking her feelings, helped. But this time, it wasn't quite enough.

"There's no need to explain yourself," Nephis said gently. "And I can't accept your apology. Because… you didn't do anything wrong. And even if you had… I would've already forgiven you."

She paused, forcing the next words out before her self-control could trap them behind her lips.

"I was the one who grabbed your hand."

Her eyes stayed on the horizon as she continued, speaking more quietly now — as if revealing something she never intended to say out loud.

"I don't know if you realize it, but when you sleep, your face changes. You grimace, like you're in pain. And then you start… radiating that killing intent. The others don't say much, but that's why they wake up sometimes. Why they're uneasy. But last night, when I grabbed your hand, it stopped. Instantly."

She hesitated again, but then her words came softer still — almost a whisper.

"And I liked holding your hand. So… don't sleep away from the others. Even if it unsettles them. I think… I can help with that now."

Sunny turned his head slowly to look at her. His expression shifted — not to that usual sly smirk or cold indifference, but something quiet. Something vulnerable. He looked at her like he was seeing her for the first time.

Her silver eyes shimmered faintly in the dim light of dawn.

"You liked… holding my hand?" he asked in a voice that was softer and more cautious than he ever used — even vunerable as though he wasn't entirely sure if he was allowed to ask.

She didn't answer at first — just nodded, slow and a little hesitant. Her eyes, caught in his, reflected the faintest trace of wonder. The silver in them shimmered with something softer than before. Something less guarded.

Sunny hesitated for a breath. Then, gently, he reached out and took her hand.

"I like holding your hand too, Neph," he said, his voice quiet — almost reverent.

A faint smile played on her lips — not one of her composed, polite ones. It was small, unsure… but real. It reached her eyes.

For a moment, they just stood there, hand in hand, silhouetted against the rising light on the horizon.

The vast landscape of the Crimson Labyrinth from the Forgotten Shore stretched out before them, but in that stillness, the storm and dangers ahead felt distant — like another life.

Just a boy and a girl — battle-scarred and broken in their own ways — holding each other in the only way they knew how.

Then, with the first light of dawn, they saw them — a swarm of giant locusts, rising over the horizon like a living tide.

Sunny and Nephis separated in silence. She turned without a word and slipped back into the shelter to inform the others of the approaching battle. Sunny, meanwhile, sent Saint and the Mirror Tyrant to the ground below, where a horde of Blood-Flower-infected primates stirred in the shadows. Because Serpent was monitoring Seishan, it was the one with the most inteligence of the three and through that perfect for the job.

Calling it a fight would have been generous. It was a slaughter.

While his shadows descended, Sunny prepared himself for the locusts. This time, the battle wasn't as hard as before. He was an Awakened now — faster, stronger, sharper. And he wasn't alone. Gemma and Kido were there, their presence a noticeable boost to the entire group's combat ability.

Gemma especially was like a force of nature. With his regeneration aspect and sheer endurance, he tore through the enemy like a ruthless butcher, shrugging off wounds others would have collapsed under. Kido fought with quiet, deadly precision, covering angles no one else noticed.

The battle raged till the afternoon.

Sunny fought with a detached calm, crushing nightmare creatures with brutal efficiency. Every time one of the massive locusts got close, he met it with overwhelming force, his fists breaking chitin and bone like brittle bark. It cost him almost no effort.

He even had enough breathing room to protect Cassie and occasionally Kido, whose aspects were not meant for close combat.

Now and then, he glanced down at the battlefield below.

What he saw pleased him.

Saint moved like a reaper through the blood-flower horde, wielding two blades — her usual sword in one hand, and in the other, a golden weapon that shifted in length and form mid-swing to carve through maximum flesh with every strike.

Sometimes, five blades merged from one, and the enemy was cut into six pieces at once.

She didn't just kill them. She dismantled them. Four heads at a time, limbs flying, torsos sliced in half — and then again and again, until the corpses could no longer crawl, no longer twitch, no longer spread their parasitic roots.

She knew: with the Blood Flower, beheading wasn't enough.

And then the Tyrant devoured everything that was left of them.

Effie, nearby, was punching nightmare insects into paste — but even she threw the occasional sideways glance at Sunny.

Unlike her, he didn't even look like he was trying. It looked like he was bored.