'Daemon of Possibility?'
Lost from Light stared at Abaddon with visible bewilderment, his mind struggling to reconcile the title with everything that had happened in the last few minutes. Truthfully, anyone placed in his situation would likely feel the same disorientation, because the events that had unfolded within such a short span of time bordered on the absurd.
Just moments earlier he had been standing before the final Soul Core of the Profaned God, ready to deliver the strike that would end the battle entirely. Yet before that blow could fall, the mysterious voice he had heard prior to the Soul Duel manifested within the Soul Sea itself, forming a semi-physical figure that halted him effortlessly. That alone would have been shocking enough; however, the stranger then proceeded to overwhelm him with a will he could not resist before calmly declaring themselves to be the true Abaddon.
And apparently the grandchild of the Sun God as well.
More importantly, Abaddon claimed that Entropy had once been something separate from them entirely. According to their explanation, they had assimilated the Void-born god long ago, which meant the monstrous being Lost from Light had just fought was not originally the same entity standing before him now.
They also mentioned something else.
If Entropy died here, Lost from Light would lose his path back.
Yet the most unsettling detail remained the way Abaddon spoke to him, because their tone carried a strange familiarity, as though the two of them had met before under circumstances Lost from Light himself could no longer recall.
The thought lingered in his mind long enough that he finally reacted.
Lost from Light blinked, then slowly raised a hand toward his face as the name spoken earlier replayed within his thoughts.
"My name is… it's Sunless?"
Abaddon tilted their head slightly while watching him. For a moment their amber eyes held only curiosity, yet that expression shifted quickly as realization dawned across their features.
"Oh dear."
They exhaled slowly.
"It seems you have regressed a thousand times without maintaining any form of mental anchor. That… is honestly rather impressive. Most individuals would lose themselves far earlier. The fact that you remain functional at all is surprising, and the fact that you forced your way to Apotheosis regardless explains why your mind is in such a… delicate condition."
Abaddon's gaze sharpened briefly.
Sunless felt the strange sensation of something peering deeper into him, as though their sight had slipped past the surface of his Soul and descended directly into his Spirit Origin.
That was when the realization struck him.
Entropy and he were technically still connected.
Their Soul Seas had merged during the battle, and although Sunless had seized dominance through treachery and overwhelming will, the boundary between them had never been completely separated.
Which meant Abaddon was connected as well.
The golden-eyed figure could see everything.
Memories.
Thoughts.
Emotions.
Even his runes.
Sunless had intentionally suppressed parts of his awareness during the battle against Entropy in order to slow the spread of corruption, choosing ignorance over comprehension whenever possible. Unfortunately, that same strategy did nothing against someone who could simply read through him entirely.
And yet another question lingered.
'How is Abaddon unaffected by Corruption?'
Entropy was a Void-born existence capable of corrupting anything it touched, yet the being before him appeared completely… lucid.
It was as though the corruption simply did not apply to them.
Sunless had not spoken the question aloud, yet Abaddon answered anyway. It appeared that the golden eyed figure was capable of hearing his thoughts, as well as his intentions.
"To address your curiosity," they said calmly, "my resistance to corruption stems partly from my own aspect, as well as my nature. Even the seal that Surya placed on me long ago aided in mine defense. When I first confronted Entropy I structured my Spirit Origin in such a way that the creature would need to destroy fragments of itself if it wished to fully devour me."
They paused briefly.
"Unfortunately for it, the creature chose expediency. Entropy accepted a weakened state rather than dismantling itself completely, and that decision eventually became its downfall. Once Surya's Seal took hold, the god found itself reduced to the state you see now."
Sunless gaped.
"But how? How did you use your own Origin to—"
The question collapsed mid-sentence.
A violent tremor ran through his body as a chorus of alien voices suddenly erupted from his mouth, their tones overlapping in a chaotic cacophony while he doubled over in pain. Sunless clutched his head instinctively while the sound of countless whispers and screams tore through his throat at once.
Abaddon sighed quietly.
"It would seem we should move this conversation elsewhere."
Before Sunless could respond, something appeared in his vision.
His runes.
The familiar letters unfolded before him while Abaddon examined them with focus, clearly searching for something specific among the long list of attributes.
Sunless followed their gaze.
The sight made his heart drop.
For a moment he wondered if his mind was playing tricks on him.
'To think I... I absorbed my own domain...'
His eyes scanned the attributes again, the list revealing truths he had never consciously noticed until now.
Attributes: [Fated], [Star of Divinity], [Spirit of Shadows], [Mythril Shell], [Echo of the Stars], [Blood Weave], [Bone Weave], [Soul Weave], [Flesh Weave], [Mind Weave], [Spirit Weave], [Curse], [Silver-Sky Weave],>[Dreamwalker]<, [Pure Soul], [Marvel], [Ve■s■el o■■ ?!!■?], [The Shadow], [Blessing of Peace], [Blessing of Destruction], [Regressor <1862nd Turn> (???)], [???]
Though some of the attributes were in a state of invalidation, he could tell where each and every one of them came from.
[Dreamwalker], from Nightmare.
[Pure Soul], from Slayer. Orphne of the Nine.
[Marvel], from Fiend.
And [Vessel of Nothing], from Saint.
Even now, other fragments of power echoed within him.
Sunless could feel them faintly. Each shade he possessed had left behind a faint mark inside his being, as though pieces of their existence had been scattered throughout his soul. The sensations felt profound. Abilities. Attributes. Entire concepts that had once belonged to others, some even gods.
Yet none of them existed in their full form.
Each presence felt incomplete, reduced to splinters of its former self. Because of that, none of them appeared within his runes. The Spell only recorded whole truths. These fragments were something else entirely.
A small inheritance left behind.
In a strange way, it reminded Sunless of two individuals he would have preferred never to resemble.
Kanakht.
And the Mad Prince.
Both of them had walked paths that resolved around stealing, or devouring power. It seemed that Sunless had unknowingly followed a similar philosophy.
A faint, humorless thought passed through his mind.
How ironic.
But as his senses drifted across those fragments again, something else caught his attention.
A strange fluctuation.
His focus sharpened.
The disturbance was coming from one attribute in particular…
[Dreamwalker].
Sunless frowned.
From his perspective, the attribute itself felt unstable. The sensation was subtle at first, like the faint tremor of a thread being pulled somewhere far away. Then the fluctuation grew stronger.
His thoughts paused.
"…Oh."
Understanding arrived quickly.
The attribute was not unstable.
It was being used.
Abaddon was using his attribute.
The realization had barely surfaced before Sunless felt the effect ripple through his consciousness.
The sensation proved disorienting in a way that was difficult to describe. His awareness wavered as though someone had grasped the edges of his mind and gently pulled. The world around him began to thin, losing cohesion at alarming speeds.
The Soul Sea shuddered, before it collapsed.
The vast inner ocean that surrounded his consciousness folded inward like a mirror, its surface breaking apart into countless fragments that dissolved into nothingness.
What followed was the sensation of the Sea around him falling to void. The Sea was no longer a Sea, but instead mists and fog.
Sunless felt himself falling. Falling into the darkness.
The experience was profoundly unsettling, though the reason had little to do with the fall itself. Normally, slipping into a dream carried the soft pull of sleep, a gradual surrender of awareness.
This felt entirely different.
Sunless was already inside another being's consciousness which meant the sensation resembled something far stranger than sleep.
It felt like descending deeper into someone else's mind.
The darkness grew potent.
And then—
—
"Young man. Please get up!"
Sunless slowly opened his eyes. Above him stretched a sky filled with countless stars.
To his left stood Abaddon, watching the heavens with a calm expression. It took Sunless a moment to realize he was dreaming, although the realization came quickly once he noticed the strange feeling in his body.
Something about it was different.
No, it was entirely different.
A slender young man sat among the wheat in a relaxed posture, dressed in a simple black tunic. His skin held the pale luster of flawless white jade, while silky black hair framed a face whose delicate beauty resembled a carefully crafted piece of art. Within that pale visage rested a pair of eyes like polished onyx.
'I'm a Supreme?'
The thought appeared briefly before he dismissed it.
His appearance had returned to one he once recognized. The white hair was gone, the cracks that once spread across his body had vanished, and the familiar presence of [Light Bringer] could no longer be felt anywhere within him.
This was the body of his Supreme self.
However, his mind was anything but.
Inside his thoughts he remained a Sacred being slowly descending toward corruption, still standing on the edge of collapse. Though his body was that of a Supreme, his mental state was still one of a Lesser God.
Turning his head, Sunless observed Abaddon quietly.
The ancient being appeared… reflective. A faint trace of sadness lingered within their expression, although nothing else revealed itself.
That puzzled him.
They still shared both soul and body, and yet Sunless could barely sense anything from Abaddon at all.
Perhaps the explanation was simple.
Sunless no longer cared enough to search deeper.
His desires had long since burned away.
He wanted only one thing now: to kill Abaddon and finally rest. If that goal could be achieved, everything else in existence could fade away. He couldn't care less any longer
Because of that, Sunless allowed Abaddon their silence.
He had nothing to say either, so he leaned backward and let his body settle into the ground beneath him.
Wheat brushed against his shoulders.
Sunless blinked before lifting his head slightly.
The entire landscape stretched outward as a vast plain of wheat beneath the starry sky. The fields swayed gently in the night breeze, their movement forming quiet ripples that rolled across the horizon.
For a moment he felt certain he had seen this scene before.
The thought lingered.
But when?
And whose memory was it?
His?
Or the Original's?
That uncertainty stirred a faint spark of curiosity within his mind.
Questions began to surface.
Who exactly was Abaddon?
What did they mean when they spoke of "assimilating" with Entropy?
How had they remained hidden for so long?
They described themselves as the grandchild of Surya, the Sun God. If that claim carried truth, then Abaddon had existed for thousands of years, and yet Sunless had never once encountered their name before Entropy itself descended upon humanity.
One final question lingered above all the others.
Recognition…
When Abaddon first saw him, something unmistakable appeared in their eyes.
They recognized him.
Their words made that clear.
They called him "Sunless."
They called him the "Daemon of Possibility."
One name belonged to a life he had forgotten.
The other belonged to a title he had never earned.
That contradiction demanded an explanation.
Sunless sat up slowly.
"Abaddon."
Abaddon, who had been watching the stars with a distant expression, turned toward him.
"Sunless."
Sunless clenched his jaw slightly before speaking.
"How do you know who I am?"
His voice carried a hint of hesitation.
"And I'm referring to more than the fact that we currently share a soul. You knew who I was the moment you saw me."
Abaddon observed him for a moment before smiling faintly.
"Well… not exactly."
Sunless waited.
"I cannot say that I know you," Abaddon continued calmly. "However, I cannot claim that I knew him particularly well either."
Sunless's gaze sharpened slightly.
"You mean the Original Sunless."
Abaddon nodded.
"That I did know."
They paused briefly before continuing.
"And as you have likely realized by now, I am not a remnant created by this Nightmare."
Sunless's expression remained unchanged, although the statement confirmed a suspicion already forming within his thoughts.
Too many things failed to align otherwise.
They were not within the Tomb of Ariel. Because of that, anyone who truly belonged to this Nightmare should perceive its events exactly as the Spell intended. Distinguishing between the original inhabitants of the past and the challengers sent here by the Spell would be impossible for someone born inside the illusion.
Yet Abaddon noticed the difference immediately.
That observation left only one explanation.
The being standing beside him was the genuine Abaddon, someone whose existence began long before the creation of this Nightmare.
Sunless released a slow breath as the final implication surfaced within his mind.
The god he fought earlier alongside Surya and Izanami had never been a creation of the Nightmare. The presence they confronted during that battle belonged to the genuine Profaned God, the True God of Entropy and Disorder whose existence stood outside the boundaries of the Spell.
Which meant something far more unsettling.
Sunless lifted his gaze toward Abaddon, the conclusion settling in his thoughts while the endless field of wheat continued its slow movement beneath the stars.
"Then you know why the Original Sunless placed it here. Tell me something… why was Entropy placed inside this Nightmare at all? No, a better question would be why this Nightmare was created in the first place. I'm afraid I've… forgotten the reason. Or perhaps I never learned it."
Abaddon regarded him with a faint sadness in their expression. Their lips parted as if preparing to answer, although Sunless raised a hand before the first word could leave them.
"…What are you doing?"
Abaddon blinked once, clearly uncertain what Sunless meant.
"Forgive me?"
Sunless slowly pressed a hand against his chest. For a brief instant tension passed across his face, the kind of reaction that appeared when someone discovered an unexpected injury within their own body. The moment faded quickly, although his eyes remained fixed on Abaddon with a newfound intensity.
"What are you doing to my Aspect?"
Abaddon's expression stilled for a moment, after which the ancient being covered their mouth with a hand and released a soft chuckle.
"Oh! Dear me, you frightened me for a moment."
Abaddon inhaled deeply before answering, as though deciding it would be simpler to explain everything directly rather than continue the misunderstanding.
"Well… I am repairing your Aspect. Its current condition could be described as catastrophic, so restoring its structure has become somewhat urgent. Unfortunately this task happens to be one of the three responsibilities that Daemon entrusted to me, and among those duties it also happens to demand the greatest effort. You see, if you attempted to regress while your Aspect remained in such a thoroughly damaged condition, the return path would collapse beneath you and your soul would drift into the empty space between two worlds. I cannot say what your fate would become in that circumstance, although the Original insisted that you must avoid it, which suggests the outcome would be extremely… unpleasant."
Sunless blinked.
Then he blinked again.
Then once more.
"Huh?"
The reaction had little to do with confusion over Abaddon's explanation. The words themselves were perfectly clear.
What unsettled him was the implication behind them.
"You are… repairing my Aspect?"
Abaddon waved their hands lightly as if dismissing the seriousness of the situation.
"Well yes. He instructed me to avoid interfering in your battle until the ability known as [Longing] collapsed. I must admit that particular Daemon delivered his instructions in an extremely vague manner, although the sequence of events unfolded exactly as he predicted. Quite unsettling, honestly."
Sunless continued staring at Abaddon without speaking, which prompted the ancient being to elaborate further.
"Your current Aspect, [Light Bringer], has been ruined so severely that it can no longer restore its own structure. Because of that limitation, describing my actions as a repair would be somewhat inaccurate. A more precise description would involve filling the missing portions with the materials available to me."
Sunless tilted his head slightly.
"…And those materials would be?"
Abaddon answered cheerfully.
"Nothingness and True Darkness."
Sunless studied them for a moment before asking another question.
"I assume that is related to your Aspect. 'Assimilation?'"
Abaddon clapped their hands together with visible delight.
"Indeed! What an astute deduction!"
Sunless tilted his head again while the implications slowly assembled within his thoughts.
"And you are altering my [Light Bringer] in the process. When this is finished, the result will become an entirely different Aspect, no?"
Abaddon nodded without hesitation.
Sunless spoke again, his tone calm although the question carried obvious implications.
"Abaddon… will I die as a result?"
Abaddon's expression froze.
Sunless continued speaking while watching the subtle shift in their face.
"If you force the essence of Entropy into my being, my death will be the only thing that follows. I am not a vessel capable of holding True Darkness, and my body already holds one additional affinity beyond what a normal existence should possess. I have also yet to fully absorb the attribute inherited from my Shadow Saint. If two more affinities are forced into my being…"
He allowed the thought to trail away, because the conclusion required no further explanation.
Abaddon intended to use their Aspect to forcibly mend Sunny's broken Aspect, which would cause three incompatible affinities to occupy the same foundation.
That outcome could only lead toward a single conclusion.
Death.
Sunless's eyes widened slightly as another realization came to him.
"You… you intend for me to regress."
Abaddon's smile carried a trace of quiet satisfaction.
"I do indeed. Or rather… that was the instruction given to me."
Sunless released a slow breath while examining his hand.
When he directed his awareness inward toward his Spirit Origin, the damage became immediately apparent. The foundation of his existence trembled under enormous strain after carrying the desires of multiple Gods and Daemons simultaneously, which made it remarkable that his soul continued to exist at all.
Despite that, he felt little concern for his own survival.
Sunless eventually lowered his hand, turned away from Abaddon, and allowed his body to settle comfortably within the wheat field once more. The stalks bent softly beneath him while the vast sky stretched endlessly overhead.
He exhaled slowly while gazing at the distant stars.
"…Do as you please, Nephilim."
Abaddon jolted slightly, genuine surprise flashing across their face.
"Do tell… how did you arrive at that conclusion?"
Sunless kept his eyes fixed on the sky.
"You mentioned earlier that Entropy would need to destroy portions of itself in order to remove you. That explanation raises an obvious question. If eliminating you required such drastic action, then corruption would have been far simpler."
Abaddon hummed thoughtfully.
"Yes… that would normally be the case."
Sunless continued.
"The only reason corruption would fail is because Entropy lacked the ability to influence your existence in the first place. Among the beings of the Dream Realm, the only individuals I have heard of who can resist corruption entirely possess a direct connection to the Void itself."
He paused briefly before finishing the thought.
"Which leaves only two possibilities."
Abaddon's expression softened as they completed the sentence for him.
"Angels… and Nephilims."
Sunless nodded faintly before falling silent again.
Abaddon studied him for a moment before lowering themselves into the wheat beside him. The field shifted gently around their movement while the endless stars continued their distant vigil above.
"Well then," Abaddon said with mild amusement. "That answers that mystery! Are you certain you have nothing else to ask? This process will require additional time, and the light within your Aspect is resisting my efforts quite aggressively."
Sunless responded without turning his head.
"If you are willing to answer questions, then allow me to ask one more."
Abaddon gestured toward him invitingly.
"Go on."
Sunless spoke slowly.
"In simple terms, Abaddon… why do you hold no hatred toward your grandparent, Surya?"
Abaddon's expression lost all trace of emotion for a brief moment.
Sunless continued.
"Was he not the one responsible for sealing you—?"
Abaddon interrupted him.
"No, Sunless. The decision to be sealed was mine."
Sunless turned his head slightly.
"…And why would you choose such a fate?"
The question lingered between them while the endless wheat field swayed beneath the vast sky.
After a moment, Abaddon finally spoke in a heavy, resigned tone.
"Sunless… you may not be aware, but Nephilim were always few. Even during the ancient days when the world still belonged to the gods, our kind emerged only rarely. Surya embodies passion and creation, and because of that he sought to fill the world with life. However, children who carried both divine blood and the touch of the void rarely awakened at all. Most failed before their first breath, while others perished soon after entering the world."
The tall man stood among the wheat as he spoke, his golden hair stirring gently beneath the night breeze.
"I was fortunate," Abaddon continued. "I came into existence as a Nephilim even though I was not born directly from Surya himself. My lineage descended from one of his bloodlines instead, which means my birth could easily have ended in failure like so many others. Yet somehow I was conceived."
He lowered his gaze toward Sunless.
"At the time of the calamity, there was little opportunity to deliberate or hesitate. The truth of that moment is far simpler than many would imagine. My realm faced annihilation, countless souls had already been swallowed by that Evil, and someone needed to stand before it. I stepped forward because no one else could."
Sunless listened without interrupting, his expression remaining thoughtful as the wheat brushed softly against his sleeves.
Eventually he spoke.
"…I see. Your existence made you the ideal candidate. A being whose nature resisted corruption while simultaneously carrying the capacity to mend what had been damaged."
Sunless tilted his head slightly as he studied Abaddon.
"The interior of a god contains their entire existence. That inner world forms an isolated realm, a domain far greater than the body that houses it. Placing a being such as yourself inside such a place would introduce a paradox that the god could never properly resolve."
A quiet chuckle escaped him.
"For a True-Born Profaned God, possessing an incorruptible fragment that constantly attempts to mend everything around it would function like a poison embedded within the core of its existence. Every effort it made to resist would only cause more damage. Abaddon… you were a remarkably insidious toxin for that unfortunate god."
Sunless' smile grew faintly amused.
"No wonder its strength deteriorated until it fell to the level of an Unholy Titan. Even in that weakened state Surya could not destroy it while inhabiting a Divine Avatar."
The wheat rustled as Abaddon shifted his weight, though Sunless continued speaking.
"I managed to bring it down only through the combined efforts of multiple gods. My weave known as 'Silver-Sky' traces its origin to both the Original Sunless and the Storm God Nokstella. Alongside that foundation I relied upon the desires brought by Hope, Ariel, Weaver, and Nether."
His tone remained calm.
"Even then, my victory was only brought about because of the countless fallen Origins from my previous regressions that exist inside my spirit. When that creature attempted to devour me, it choked on the accumulation of those remnants. The destruction of that being depended upon an absurd number of factors converging at the exact moment they were required..."
Within his mind, however, another thought surfaced.
'To think that the Original Sunless managed to defeat the Garden of Entropy… alone.'
The realization felt almost profound. Impossible even. 'What sort of strength did I once possess as a Divine Titan? Slaying a god such as Entropy without any assistance… by the Spell.'
Abaddon glanced down at him with an expression that suggested he had heard every word.
He spoke slowly.
"You are correct in your assumption. I cannot confidently describe that Daemon as a Divine Titan. From my perspective he resembled something more of an Outer God."
Sunless lifted an eyebrow.
"'Outer God?'"
Abaddon made a small gesture with his hand.
"That was simply the term Surya used for entities dwelling beyond the reach of our world. Their nature remains uncertain, and I cannot claim to understand what they truly are. Angels occasionally fall into that same classification depending on how one interprets their existence."
He paused briefly.
"My point remains. That Daemon possessed strength that surpassed the boundaries normally associated with a Divine Titan. Even among beings of that rank his power appeared deeply abnormal."
Sunless considered the explanation before giving a small nod.
"I understand."
His attention shifted back toward Abaddon.
"And your remaining tasks? What were they?"
Abaddon released a quiet sigh.
"Yes, we should address that while there is still time. This form will not endure indefinitely, and several matters remain unfinished. I must pass along a message from him, and I must also complete the mending of your Aspect before Entropy finally collapses. That Profaned God will not survive much longer after the damage you inflicted upon its inner body."
The Nephilim turned fully toward Sunless.
"That Daemon gave me a single instruction. If you ever appeared within this Nightmare, I was to tell you to seek out the other Daemons. According to him, they represent the only path that leads beyond this cursed Dream."
Sunless remained silent.
Abaddon watched him carefully.
'The desire within him has vanished.'
The observation emerged as he studied the young man seated beneath the stars. Sunless stared upward toward the constellations with distant eyes, his attention drifting somewhere far beyond the wheat field.
'He desires nothing. He pursues nothing.'
Abaddon's expression softened with concern.
'Whatever drove him forward throughout his regressions has already burned away. With Entropy nearing its final act, his purpose will vanish alongside it.'
Another realization followed close behind.
'This poor young man does not even realize that he is an outsider to the Nightmare.'
Abaddon exhaled slowly before looking ahead.
"Seek out Hope, the Daemon of Desire," he said. "She may come to you instead, considering your current condition."
Sunless' gaze shifted slightly toward him.
Abaddon continued.
"Seek out Ariel, the Daemon of Dread. He will guide you toward the others."
His voice remained steady as he listed the names.
"Afterward you must find Nether, the Daemon of Destiny and Prince of the Underworld. Then you will encounter Mirage, the Daemon of Imagination, followed by Rime, the Daemon of Repose. Finally… you will meet Oblivion."
The wheat swayed quietly around them.
"Only after you have encountered each of them will you be able to request an audience with Weaver. By that time the path forward will become clear."
The world trembled suddenly.
The dream quaked beneath their feet as faint fractures began spreading across the night sky. Sunless did not react even as dark liquid seeped through those cracks like ink spilling across water.
Above them, the constellations dimmed.
Blackness flooded the heavens, swallowing each star one after another until the sky resembled a vast wound leaking corruption.
Sunless lowered his gaze toward his own body.
His form had changed again.
The figure seated within the wheat field carried a different presence altogether now, a heavier existence shaped by countless battles and regressions. Deep fractures ran across his skin like scars carved directly into his existence itself. Those marks represented the strain his Spirit Origin had endured through endless cycles of rebirth.
Alongside them spread darker cracks born from corruption.
At this moment he existed as a Cursed Titan rather than a Sacred one.
His hair had returned to white, while the sclera of his eyes had turned black. Pale pupils floated within that darkness like distant reflections that revealed nothing to the world.
Even his shadow drowned in corruption.
Sunless studied himself briefly before lifting his head once more.
He spoke quietly.
"I… see."
His gaze drifted downward afterward, settling upon his own hand. The cracks running through his skin glimmered faintly beneath the drowning starlight. As he examined them, an understanding settled into his mind, bringing with it an odd and distant clarity.
This would not be the end.
Whatever came next lay beyond his concern, and he discovered that he possessed no strength to chase after explanations. The suggestion that he should pursue the Daemons flowed through his mind briefly, though it carried no weight, leaving him strangely detached from the path laid before him.
For what purpose would he regress again?
He searched for the reason that had once driven him to challenge the profaned god, yet the memory of that purpose had ceased, leaving behind only a hollow curiosity.
Why had he been fighting in the first place?
Before the thought could travel any further, a gentle pressure settled atop his head.
Sunless lifted his gaze slowly, discovering Abaddon standing close enough to brush a hand through his white hair with a strangely casual tenderness. The Nephilim's expression had a faint smile upon it, though exhaustion rested behind his eyes as though he had waited far longer for this meeting than any mortal life could contain.
Abaddon spoke softly.
"It seems our time together has reached its end. I have waited countless years for the moment when you would appear within this Nightmare, and now that moment has finally arrived. My duties will soon reach their conclusion."
He withdrew his hand afterward and rose to his feet, turning his gaze upward toward the distant sky. Above them, the constellations continued to drown beneath spreading darkness, their light being painted over an expanding tide of corruption that swallowed star after star.
A small breath escaped him as he watched the heavens collapse.
Abaddon spoke with gentle wonder.
"It truly was extraordinary. I watched him bring down one god after another, and each victory unfolded in a manner that defied every expectation placed upon this world. I witnessed impossible achievements stacked atop one another until even I questioned if the Gods were truly right in their rule."
His gaze lingered upon the ruined sky before gradually lowering once more.
Abaddon continued quietly.
"You have gone farther than anyone else could have gone, and you accomplished deeds that should have remained forever beyond reach. Even so, one question continues to dwell within my thoughts."
His smile softened slightly as he looked down at Sunless.
Abaddon spoke gently.
"Why did you choose such a path?"
For a brief moment neither of them spoke. The Sunless before him could not answer, for the question did not belong to him.
Abaddon lowered his gaze and allowed a faint sadness to color his voice.
Abaddon spoke quietly.
"Before we part ways, there is something you must understand. A regressor actually doesn't regress. What actually regresses isn't him, but everything else excluding him. The world around him will no longer be what it was, yet he will be. Every life resets, every memory fades, and every story begins anew, while you alone remain outside that turning wheel of time."
His expression grew serious as he studied Sunless.
Abaddon continued softly.
"Such a fate carries a terrible price. You will exist beyond the reach of those who once knew you, and every bond you form will stand upon ground that no one else can see. In time you will become the only witness to countless lives that vanish from existence, and that loneliness will follow you through every world you choose cross."
The wheat field swayed gently around them while the sky above continued to fracture apart.
Abaddon raised his gaze toward the horizon again.
Abaddon spoke with true sincerity.
"I only hope that one day you encounter someone who will accept that burden alongside you. Even if the truth of your path is forever beyond their understanding, I hope they welcome you with open arms regardless."
A faint movement followed as Abaddon lifted one hand toward the collapsing sky.
Along his arm, countless symbols and runes slowly awakened, spreading across his skin like living script. The flesh beneath them shifted gradually into the ancient form of a Nephilim limb, carrying a structure far removed from the shape worn by ordinary mortals.
Abaddon smiled faintly before speaking in a calm tone.
"Good luck, Lost from Light. If fate ever arranges another meeting between us, I pray that day never arrives. Should you stand before me again in the waking world, it will signal the approach of an era far more dreadful than anything we have witnessed here."
He watched silently as Sunless's strength finally began to fade.
Sunless lifted a trembling hand toward his chest while his vision flickered unsteadily, the edges of the dreamscape blurring as consciousness slowly slipped away from him. The distant sky fractured further overhead while darkness spilled across the stars, though the dying Sleeper barely noticed the collapse of the world around him.
Within the depths of his existence, something violent had begun to unfold.
Four immense forces stirred within his spirit, each one pulling against the others with overwhelming pressure. Their presence churned together within the broken vessel of his Origin, twisting through every layer of his being as they struggled to find equilibrium.
Shadow, as silent as a tide.
Light, burning radiant intensity of a divine flame.
True Darkness, a deeper and more ancient element that seeks to consume the preliminaries.
And Nothingness, the weapon used against the void.
Four different affinities, all in one body.
The clash of those affinities tore through Sunless's spirit like a raging storm. Amid that chaos, however, another process had begun to take hold, completing somewhere far beyond his fading consciousness.
Abaddon's final act had nearly reached completion.
Within the distant depths of Entropy's ruined domain, the broken god's essence twisted and reshaped itself under the pressure of Abaddon's aspect. The Profaned God had already begun to collapse inward, its endless disorder slowly condensing into a new form as the Nephilim forced its essence toward a singular conclusion.
The Garden of Entropy and Disorder was being remade.
The transformation pushed forward with relentless precision, bending the god's fading existence into something that could exist within the framework of a Divine Aspect.
And then the Spell responded.
A distant voice echoed through Sunless's fading consciousness.
[The Aspect 'Light Bringer' has been…!]
The message was unable to complete, for there was no classification for it.
So another line replaced it.
[The Aspect 'Light Bringer' has been destroyed.]
A brief pause followed as the Spell adjusted itself.
[Your ■■ has been revised.]
[Your Spirit Origin has been altered.]
Sunless's vision dimmed further as the final message struggled to manifest.
[The '???' 'Hell of Eternity' has begun to —]
Darkness consumed everything before the line could finish.
—
Deep within the collapsing Soul Sea of Entropy, Abaddon floated silently as the final remnants of that ruined world continued to crumble apart around him. The isolated realm that had once served as the Profaned God's inner domain had begun fading into drifting fragments, each piece falling away like petals from an unseen flower.
Sunless's body hovered nearby within that fading sea, its surface fractured by countless cracks that carried the scars of endless regressions.
Abaddon watched silently as the Sleeper's existence prepared to return to the cycle once more.
His task had reached its conclusion.
The duty entrusted to him by the Original Sunless had been fulfilled exactly as intended, leaving nothing undone within the boundaries of the role he had accepted. Despite that success, however, a subtle dissatisfaction stirred within the depths of his heart.
He had willingly embraced this fate long ago.
Even so, part of him wished he could witness… more.
For countless years he had lived within the belly of an Unholy-Titan, keeping the slumbering god trapped within dreams that stretched across endless ages. Those dreams had granted him peace and quiet companionship, though that tranquil existence had also shielded him from the countless wonders unfolding beyond that prison.
Now that he stood awake at the edge of annihilation, the world beyond seemed far more fascinating than he had imagined.
His gaze returned to Sunless.
Meanwhile, Abaddon's own Soul Sea had begun collapsing as well.
The Nephilim could feel the function of regression stirring within Sunless's existence, preparing to return him to the beginning despite the death he had intended to embrace. His attribute refused to grant him the simple conclusion he desired, dragging him toward another cycle even as the domain around him disintegrated.
Abaddon smiled faintly and spoke in an amused tone.
"The Daemon referred to it as a 'Fable', if I recall correctly. To imagine that he created an entirely new form of power by altering the Nightmare Spell itself… how fascinating."
He turned his gaze toward the dissolving remains of Entropy.
The once-mighty god had already begun transforming into a vast field of drifting flowers, each petal carrying fragments of the being that had once embodied pure disorder. The isolated world built around that existence continued to collapse inward, dragging the final pieces of the Profaned God into oblivion.
Abaddon watched the transformation quietly.
Then he looked back at Sunless.
A faint smile touched his lips.
Abaddon spoke calmly.
"You challenged the Void itself and refused to accept the conclusion placed before you. You encountered the oldest dream within existence and stood before the Forgotten God face to face, emerging alive from a meeting that should have never occurred at all."
His voice softened slightly.
Abaddon continued thoughtfully.
"In every world that exists beneath these heavens, you are the only being who can claim such a meeting. Under those circumstances, how could I resist the curiosity of seeing what kind of future you might create?"
His gaze lingered upon the sleeping figure before him.
Abaddon spoke quietly.
"What stories will you conceive? What choices will create the path ahead of you? What kind of life will you ultimately decide to lead?"
A soft breath escaped him.
Abaddon spoke with anticipation.
"I… I truly wonder."
After a brief pause, he made a decision.
The choice carried no obligation and no command from the Daemon of Possibility. Nevertheless, the idea had already taken root within his thoughts, urging him toward a final act before the collapsing world of Entropy erased him entirely.
He turned toward Sunless.
Abaddon spoke in his True Voice.
["What will you show me, Sunless? I look forward to seeing it."]
The Nephilim's form dissolved immediately afterward.
His body shattered into countless runes and letters that spiraled outward like fragments of living scripture, each symbol glowing faintly as it drifted through the collapsing Soul Sea. Those countless fragments moved together as a single flowing current before plunging directly into the fractured existence of the Sleeper.
Sunless never saw the moment.
He never realized that Abaddon had chosen to follow him beyond the collapse of that dying realm.
Yet the Spell recorded the event regardless.
A final message appeared.
[You have attained the Fable 'The One Who Would Mend the World.']
—
Outside the collapsing domain, the final Avatar of Sunless hovered above the dying Garden of Entropy as the Profaned God's world began to tear itself apart. The Sunless who entered the creature's True Body had vanished within its depths, while this one remained outside and still carried a faint connection to Surya, the Sun God.
Surya's voice echoed through his mind.
["After so many years. Finally, the battle is at an end."]
Sunless kept his gaze on the collapsing realm below.
Sunless replied quietly.
"It would appear that it has."
A brief silence followed while the ruined world beneath them continued to break apart. The meaning of that moment was different for each of them.
For Sunless, it meant the end of a nightmare that had repeated itself across more than one thousand eight hundred regressions. Entropy had hunted him across every cycle, engulfing him again and again until even his desires went hollow.
For Surya, the meaning was one of relief. The being that destroyed his Avatar and severed his anchor to the world had finally fallen.
The Garden of Entropy was dead.
Unfortunately, Sunless's journey was not over yet.
Surya's voice suddenly returned, heavy with alarm.
["Lost from Light! What is happening—!?"]
The warning arrived a moment too late.
Sunless's body jerked violently as something within him twisted with brutal force. His breath caught in his throat as the pain spread through his chest, forcing him to double over while the shadows beneath his feet trembled like disturbed water.
Sunless choked out a broken gasp.
"Hk—Heok!"
The shadows collapsed a moment later.
The darkness beneath him melted into black liquid before dispersing entirely, leaving the Avatar suspended in empty air for the briefest instant before gravity took hold.
Sunless began to fall.
His eyes darted across the collapsing battlefield while the sensation inside his body grew more violent with every passing second. Something had begun tearing through his spirit from within, while another presence forced its way inside at the same time.
He understood only one thing.
He was dying.
His Aspect, [Shadow Slave], had already repaired itself within the Shadow Realm. The damage inflicted by Entropy had been erased completely, restoring the power that bound him to the domain of shadows.
However, [Light Bringer] had not survived the battle.
Sunless felt the Aspect break within his soul for a brief moment before it vanished entirely. The collapse lasted only a second, though it marked the end of the power he once held.
His body dissolved into shadows before it struck the ground below.
Light Bringer was gone.
…Something new had taken its place.
His world faded to black as the Spell responded to the change.
[Sacred-Titan 'Lost from Light' has chosen to regress.]
A familiar sensation appeared.
[The Attribute 'Regressor <1862nd Turn>' has activated in an unstable manner.]
The Spell paused briefly as it processed the coming change.
[The Attribute 'Regressor <1862nd Turn>' has been modified.]
It spoke again, it's voice broken.
[Regressor <1863rd Turn> (???)]
And finally, the message he had come to hate most arrived.
[You have regressed.]
[You have slain Entropy.]
—
Sunless opened his eyes to flowers.
Black blossoms covered the entire desert, their petals climbing on an absent wind into a sky that had gone completely, irrevocably silent. Each flower absorbed the faint luminescence drifting above and returned nothing. They were exquisite in their disorder.
There was no roar of Entropy. No chorus of Asterion's will descending from the heights. No screaming from the periphery, no friends dying in the corners of his vision for the eighteen hundred and sixty-third time. The battlefield had become an empty field of black flowers, and the silence it offered carried the quality of something long overdue.
However, the figure that rose from amid those flowers was not Sunless.
It was the Lord of Light.
Surya filled the body and catalogued its damage from within. Easily broken beyond anything he could name — golden cracks and black ones mapping every surface, three wings of pure darkness dissolving into liquids of black, and deeper within — a flickering Flame of Desire.
Black hair threaded gold at the tips fell forward across a face scoured of all expression. The one who had inhabited this body across eighteen hundred regressions had long since run dry.
Surya inhaled once, held it, and released it across the sea of black flowers. Then he took flight.
[Silver-Sky Weave] had done precisely what it existed to do. Entropy had been excised from fate's strings, its threads removed so completely that the Nightmare had already sealed around the vacancy. The death was permanent. Surya accepted the considerable distance ahead and flew south.
—
The Tomb of Ariel rose from the Nightmare Desert below — a colossal pyramid of black stone carved from the flesh of a slain unholy titan, so immense its silhouette could be seen, perhaps even in space.
He passed over it.
The Hollow Mountains followed, a labyrinthine expanse of suffocating darkness inhabited by beings of pure Nothingness.
He passed through those as well.
The Chained Isles appeared ahead — floating islands suspended above a bottomless abyss, each tethered to its neighbors by colossal chains of iron, the entire archipelago shifting in the heights with the ponderous rhythm of something enormous and perpetually restless.
Surya descended through the outer reaches with the certainty of a being who had destroyed this kingdom once. Ruined fortresses, fields of grass, scorched stone — each surface bearing the history of what this place had been before his heavenly flames remade it.
He landed before a hall he recognized.
The sanctuary. The prison. The place where chains had once sprawled across a pristine white floor, their runes marred and erased now, their purpose extinguished long ago. He stood before it briefly, and then stepped forward.
[The Sun God 'Surya' has forcefully activated 'Dreamwalker.']
The Chained Isles faded away.
What replaced them was the Kingdom of Hope as it had existed before he incinerated it's skies — lush grassland stretching across a floating island beneath an open sky, neighboring islands connected by chains from which people moved about their lives with the ease of a civilization that had never learned to fear its own horizon. White flowers grew in luminous clusters along the island's edge, and the air here carried warmth that the real Chained Isles had long since ceased to produce.
Surya stood in the middle of it. Hope sat across from him.
She regarded him with an expression that communicated its judgment completely and required nothing further.
[The 'Demon of Hope' is glaring at 'The Sun God, Surya.']
Surya did not speak. No formulation of language existed adequate to standing before the being whose kingdom he had obliterated and whose imprisonment he had personally architected — inhabiting a body that did not belong to him, having forced his way into her Dream uninvited. Hope's gaze held the accumulated tenure of every year spent imprisoned while her people suffered without her. It held the memory of chains, the precise and unforgiving knowledge of what kind of being stood before her, and what choices that being had made when given the authority to choose otherwise.
Then Sunless's body dropped from the air.
It struck the grass of Hope's Kingdom with the hollow, graceless impact of a vessel abandoned mid-flight — no ceremony, only the blunt conclusion of something that had been carrying a divine presence and was now carrying nothing.
[The Sun God 'Surya' has relinquished the Sacred-Avatar 'Lost from Light.']
The wings folded and ceased. The luminescence inhabiting the body withdrew, retreating back into the strings of the Nightmare Spell, back into the eternal dream where the Lord of Light had been sleeping since his own death. Surya was gone.
Hope stood over the body on her grass and said nothing. The wind moved through her Kingdom. People on distant islands continued their lives, unaware that anything of consequence had transpired on this particular one.
Then she smiled.
A small expression, private — the expression of someone recalling a promise made across a considerable distance of time, discovering that circumstances had finally arranged themselves to honor it. She had told him she would help when the appointed moment arrived. Here he was, delivered through no volition of his own, through whatever principle had compelled the Sun God to bring him somewhere useful before relinquishing control entirely.
Lost from Light had reached the first of the seven Daemons he had been told to seek.
Hope crouched beside the body and gathered it into her arms. Multiple runes ignited across her skin the moment contact was established — luminous script cascading outward from her hands, spreading with the certainty of something suspended mid-activation for a very long time.
The body she held was catastrophic. Four incompatible affinities churned inside a vessel constructed to barely sustain two. The fractures mapping his existence ran deep enough to be existential rather than physical. His desires had long since burned to ash across eighteen hundred cycles of dying, and his name — the sardonic one, the one belonging to a boy from the city outskirts who had wanted a simple life and the people he loved kept breathing — had been abraded to near-illegibility beneath the accumulated ruin of millennia.
He had forgotten why he was fighting. He had forgotten who he was fighting for. He had nearly forgotten that he was a Sleeper at all — an outsider to this Nightmare, its challenger.
Hope's runes blazed brighter as she held him.
He needed to remember.
He needed his desires — not his Flame of Desire, but his true desires reconstructed from whatever fragments survived the erosion. He needed the specific, irreducible certainty that the things he had once cared about were still worth caring about — that the people beyond the boundary of this Nightmare were still there, still real, and still waiting for him.
Hope regarded the young god in her arms with an expression belonging entirely to the Daemon of Desire contemplating a being who had expended every last trace of it.
She spoke in a low tone.
["…It has been far too long, Sunless."]