Sunny reappeared atop a rooftop within the Artisanship Commission.
Here, the air felt different.
Heavier.
Charged with tension and the faint metallic tang of danger. The distant clang of machinery and shouted warnings echoed through the district, punctuated by the unmistakable sounds of combat — steel on flesh, explosions, something screaming that should not have had a voice anymore.
Sunny stood still for a moment, surveying the scene.
Below him, chaos reigned.
Mara-Struck rampaged through the streets, their bodies warped into grotesque parodies of their former selves. Golden leaves sprouted from torn flesh, bark splitting skin as limbs elongated or twisted into unnatural shapes. Some still wore the remnants of Cloud Knight armor, weapons clutched in hands that no longer remembered restraint.
Interspersed among them were automatons.
That gave him pause.
He recognized the designs immediately — artisan constructs, repurposed from industrial or defensive roles into crude combat platforms. Some hovered, others walked on too many legs, and a few rolled forward on grinding wheels, weapons grafted onto frames that had never been meant to kill.
They fought viciously.
And poorly.
Blades struck true only to glance off reinforced growths. Energy pulses scorched bark but failed to put targets down. Worse, several automatons detonated upon sustaining damage, taking Mara-Struck with them — but also destroying nearby infrastructure in the process.
Sunny sighed.
"So that's how today's going to be."
His gaze was drawn, inevitably, to the roots.
They rose in thick coils from the ground, pale gold veins pulsing beneath dark bark as they wrapped around a central structure like a strangling serpent. The closer they were to the Arbor's origin, the more active they appeared, tendrils twitching as if reacting to unseen stimuli.
Something was there. What it was… Sunny just had to find out, didn't he?
The mantra that Kafka had inserted into his head, listing what she needed him to do, required him to sever those roots… somehow. They were massive even from this distance, and it would probably take a while to cut through them with a mere sword.
He dropped from the rooftop.
The fall was controlled, deliberate. He landed lightly despite the height, knees bending to absorb the impact as he touched down amid broken stone and scattered debris.
The moment his boots hit the ground, he moved.
He blitzed the nearest Mara-Struck before it could even register his presence, blade flashing as he cleaved cleanly through its torso. The body split apart, sap and blood spraying outward as the remains collapsed into a heap of twitching leaves.
Sunny didn't slow.
He pivoted, slicing through another creature's neck, then ducked beneath a wild swing and drove his blade upward through a ribcage. Each movement flowed into the next, efficient and merciless.
A floating automaton — shaped vaguely like a goldfish, of all things — drifted into his path, its core glowing ominously.
He cut it in half.
The automaton exploded a heartbeat later, shrapnel and fire washing over him. The Silent Mist absorbed the brunt of it, heat licking across his skin without truly biting.
He emerged from the smoke unfazed.
He cut his way forward, methodically thinning the battlefield. Mara-Struck fell in droves, their weapons clattering uselessly to the ground as Sunny dismantled them piece by piece. Some still fought with practiced forms, muscle memory lingering even as their minds had rotted away. Others relied purely on brute strength, charging with no thought beyond destruction.
Sunny spared none of them.
Blood stained the stone in his wake.
A flash of memory stirred — a tactic drilled into him long ago.
Remove distractions first.
Isolate the real threat.
He frowned slightly, trying to place the source of the thought.
He shook his head, stabbing Hail Sorrow's black blade into the skull of one of the Mara-Struck, before using his strength to fling it into another.
He pressed onward.
That was when it happened.
A sudden hollowness rippled through him.
Sunny staggered half a step, breath catching as his three shadows peeled away from his body like severed limbs. Shadow Essence refused to respond, slipping through his grasp like water through open fingers.
His eyes snapped toward the source.
A hulking automaton stood at the edge of the plaza, its form resembling a massive gate torn free from its hinges. Thick plating reinforced its bulk, and attached to one arm was a baton-like device etched with glowing runes.
The runes flared.
Then dimmed.
Sunny felt it immediately.
His connection to Essence was severed.
"…Huh."
No Essence flow. No active Aspect abilities. No summoning Memories or Echoes. Even physical enhancement was cut off, leaving only baseline strength and whatever passive traits lingered.
Sunny flexed his fingers.
His weapon remained in his hand. His armor still clung to his body.
That was enough.
The machine charged.
Its movements were heavy but precise, massive limbs striking with enough force to crater stone. Sunny avoided the first swing by a hair's breadth, heat rushing past his face as the baton slammed into the ground where he'd stood.
He darted inside its reach, blade scraping uselessly against reinforced plating.
The automaton swung again.
Sunny ducked, rolled, then swept its leg.
The sheer force behind the move sent a shock through his arms, but the automaton lost balance, dropping to one knee with a grinding screech of metal.
Sunny didn't waste the opening.
He hacked through the arm holding the baton, the Transcendent blade slicing cleanly through joints that should not have yielded so easily. The limb crashed to the ground, runes flickering weakly.
Sunny grabbed the baton as it fell.
Methodically, brutally, he dismantled the automaton piece by piece, severing limbs and carving through structural supports until it could no longer move. Each strike took effort without Essence reinforcing him, muscles burning as he worked.
Finally, the automaton detonated.
This time, it hurt.
Heat washed over him, biting into exposed skin. Sunny staggered back, hissing as burns blossomed across his arms and neck.
A moment later, Essence rushed back into him like a held breath finally released.
Sunny straightened, shadows snapping back into place.
He summoned the Covetous Coffer and fed it the rune-etched baton without ceremony.
"Might as well keep the toys."
He surveyed the remaining battlefield.
The horde thinned rapidly now, Mara-Struck falling apart as the roots' influence weakened. Sunny tilted his head, mirth curling at the edges of his mouth.
'Since when was I a pest exterminator?'
These fights just weren't stimulating enough…