Shadow Slave

Sunny looked at the familiar door, feeling emotions swell in his chest.

It was funny, really. This modest house in a middle-range district of NQSC was not at all important, all things considered. Sunny ruled an entire region of the Dream Realm now — there was a whole city under his control, with countless homes that were far more grand and desirable than this one. He also had the Nameless Temple and the Marvelous Mimic, who could take any form. Not to mention that Sunny was wealthy enough to buy this entire district, not just one house.

And still…

He remembered becoming the owner of this home, with its grey walls and a cozy porch. How it made him feel… how exhilarated he had been, having become a homeowner after a lifetime of living on the streets.

He remembered all the things that had happened in that home, as well.

‘Goodness.’

It felt like a lifetime ago. It certainly was, in more senses than one… a thousand lifetimes, even.

Sunny inhaled deeply and looked away from the door.

“It’s quiet here.”

The terrace district was different from how he remembered it. There were far fewer people on the streets, and everything was quiet. Most of the homes seemed vacant, as if their owners had moved somewhere a long time ago. The green lawns he enjoyed looking at so much were still tended to, but if one looked closely, the signs of neglect were impossible to miss.

Jet answered in a neutral tone.

“Well, things change. This district was quite popular once, but a few years ago, there was a Nightmare Gate emergency nearby. The public trains had to be rerouted because of the Call, and the network connection became patchy. The Gate was eventually closed, but it was already too late — people moved on. Some moved to the Dream Realm, most simply relocated to other parts of NQSC.”

She paused for a moment, then shrugged with a smile.

“Lucky for us, really. It would have been difficult to purchase this home if someone else was already living in it.”

Sunny nodded, feeling strangely wistful… dismayed, even.

The fact that the terrace district was deteriorating should not have been a surprise for him, but for some reason, it was a bit of a blow. He had never stopped to think about it, but this idyllic place always felt eternal in his mind.

However, nothing was truly eternal in this world…

Only the great Void was.

Jet’s smile turned a little wistful, as well.

“Actually, it’s a big problem.”

Sunny raised an eyebrow.

“What is?”

She gestured vaguely in the direction of the homes surrounding them.

“Real estate. People know that they will have to leave for the Dream Realm eventually, and even if most of them won’t be able to become settlers any time soon, that knowledge is already influencing their decisions. Those who do leave for the Dream Realm need to sell their assets first, but nobody is buying — why would they, knowing that they would not get to own their purchases in the long run? So, the whole market has more or less collapsed. It’s a mess.”

Jet shook her head.

“The government had to establish a special agency that assists settlers in converting their assets to contribution points. These points can then be exchanged for stuff in the Dream Realm… basically, we are buying all the things people cannot sell at a huge loss, en masse. But our pockets are not infinite. Don’t tell anyone, but the government is actually this close to going bankrupt.”

She raised her hand, holding her thumb and index finger apart.

Then, she laughed.

“Oh, don’t look so serious. The Immortal Flame has our backs, so it’s going to be fine… well, it will be tolerable, at least.”

Then, she looked at Sunny and raised an eyebrow.

“So, are you going to invite me inside or what?”

Sunny came to his senses and took a step toward the door.

“Welcome to my humble abode, Saint Jet. Please make yourself at home.”

Once the door closed behind them, Sunny was met with the familiar view.

His kitchen, where he had destroyed the fridge once, was to his right. The living room, where Nephis had burned his projector, was to his left. Further inside were the stairs leading to the second floor, as well as the elevator leading to the underground dojo where his sleeping pod used to stand.

Things were different from how he had left them years ago, of course. But even if his time in this home had been relatively brief — no more than a couple of years, most of them spent in the Dream Realm — it still felt nice to return.

Sunny remained silent for a long while, then turned to Jet.

“I’m afraid I won’t be a good host. The fridge is empty… also, I don’t think the power is on.”

She grinned.

“Don’t worry. I came prepared.”

The two of them settled at the table in the living room, where Jet produced a few items from a storage Memory.

Sunny stared at them for a few seconds, a dubious expression on his face.

“Are those… rat packs?”

They were — the infamous basic ration back, the most common food people in the outskirts could procure. Each contained a tube of synthpaste, several bland crackers, and a container of filtered water.

Jet nodded, opening one of them and squeezing synthpaste onto a colorless cracker.

“They sure are.”

She took a bite and exhaled slowly.

“Wow, just as terrible as I remember.”

Sunny stared at Jet in confusion, then opened another ration pack and repeated her actions.

The taste of synthpaste — or rather, the utter lack of it — brought back memories. Too many memories, even, which was quite fitting for a holiday called Remembrance Day.

Maybe that was the reason Jet had brought the rat packs along.

She stared at the tube of synthpaste in her hand, and then said in a distant tone:

“This is a relic, you know?”

Sunny raised an eyebrow.

“How so?”

Jet sighed and put the tube down.

“Synthpaste can’t be produced in the Dream Realm. So, the next generation — or perhaps the one after that — will never be able to taste it. They won’t even know what it is.”

She smiled faintly.

“In fact, synthpaste is already starting to disappear. Production has fallen almost by twenty percent… not only because the infrastructure of the waking world is swiftly deteriorating, but also because there is less demand. It was mostly distributed among people in the outskirts, after all, and you have seen how the outskirts look now. Most settlers in the second wave were from there, and with the agriculture in the Dream Realm taking off, they have better things to eat now.”

Sunny let out a heavy sigh.

“You are killing me today. Was that your intention?”

The sorry state of the terrace district had already been a blow. Learning that synthpaste — a staple of life that had seemed inalienable — was under threat of becoming a thing of the past made Sunny feel… old.

It made him feel like time was moving too fast, leaving him behind.

And he was not even thirty yet. Gods, meanwhile, were meant to live for thousands of years. What would become of Sunny if he did succeed in conquering the Fifth Nightmare? What kind of world would be around him in three hundred years, and what kind of being would he be?

A being who would never taste synthpaste again, for one.

Jet chuckled.

“Killing you, huh?”

She found a glass, wiped it with a paper towel, and poured the sterile water into it.

“Don’t you find it funny? We are the only two Awakened from the outskirts who survived long enough to make something of ourselves. And we both did that by dying in the First Nightmare. If that is not irony, I don’t know what is.”