Shadow Slave

1019 The Fall of Falcon Scott (37)

Some distance away, the ethereal flower suddenly swirled, its beautiful petals billowing outward like a current of white silk. Ghostly tentacles of flowing cloth shot toward the charging Saint, too swift and insidious to dodge.

As Sunny watched in fear, Bloodwave’s head became enveloped by the silk, his glowing eyes disappearing from view. The body of the monstrous killer whale shuddered, moved weakly, and then grew strangely still.

‘Gods…’

He saw something much more frightening, as well.

Two of the longer petals were already flying through the dark abyss, approaching Sunny and Naeve. They were fast… too fast. Inescapable.

He had no time to dodge, or even react. There were no thralls close enough to hide in their shadow, and not enough time to try and swim away. All Sunny managed to do was slash forward with the Sin of Solace. The jade blade met the white petal, cutting through the cloth. A small piece of it drifted away, but the petal was not slowed down at all.

It seemed to unfurl into a vast expanse of billowing silk, surrounding Sunny from all sides. Then, he was wrapped in the cold whiteness, encompassed and immobilized by it. The feeling of smooth satin brushing against his naked skin made Sunny shudder.

‘Damna… tion…’

Then, the world grew still.

The dark abyss of the ocean disappeared, replaced by an eternity of fluttering white cloth.

His exhaustion and fear disappeared, too.

His memory, foresight, awareness, intent, and resolve were gone.

His mind was empty.

Sunny vaguely remembered having thoughts, desires, and hopes. But those words seemed senseless now, their meaning unfathomable. In fact, the word he had used to describe himself — Sunny — was meaningless, too. What a strange one it was…

Surrounded by billowing silk, he sensed movement. There were… shadows… moving around him. He was moving, too, being drawn closer to the largest one.

With each passing moment, his sense of self was dissolving more and more. Soon, it would be gone completely. And then, something new, something old, something darker, something… waiting… was going to take its place.

He felt at peace with that.

He felt… empty.

The emptiness was comforting.

There was just one thing blemishing the peaceful white flawlessness of the empty satin world.

…A sinister, mocking voice. It whispered into his ear, gloating:

“Here we go. A pathetic end for a pathetic fool.”

Spurred by the hateful voice — his own voice — Sunny suddenly remembered.

Lost from Light.

That was his name.

That one memory unlocked all the rest like a key.

‘What… is… going on?’

He struggled against the white cloth enveloping his body, but it was hopeless. The terrifying understanding flooded his mind, making him remember what had happened, and what was happening.

What was probably about to happen.

Sunny’s consciousness was strangely split, one part of it sensing the reality of being dragged through the mass of water by one of the Terror’s petals, the other still lost in the endless expanse of billowing silk.

He could feel a boundless alien presence encroaching upon both, seeing through his eyes, thinking his thoughts, and hungrily wanting for more. Its progress was slow and labored, but inevitable. Sunny tried to fight against the harrowing invader, throwing all of his willpower into a fierce assault, but it simply shattered against the vast, ancient, malevolent enormity of it like glass.

‘Ah… not good…’

His thoughts were slowing down.

Suspecting that fighting the Terror in the mindscape was a futile endeavor, Sunny tried to free himself from the physical bonds instead. However, his arms were pressed tightly against his body, and the white cloth refused to part before the blade of the Sin of Solace, like the flesh of other Nightmare Creatures usually did. He wasn’t going to cut through it while only being able to move his wrist a tiny bit.

‘Curse it!’

Sunny could vaguely sense the shadows of Naeve and Bloodwave some distance away from him. It seemed that he was the only one trying to struggle against the Terror’s petals. Both were probably still mesmerized… why was he not, then?

The Sin of Solace and possessing a True Name might have helped, but it could not have been the only reason. Bloodwave was the enigmatic Saint’s True Name, as well, and yet the monstrous killer whale was motionless, silently drifting on the currents in the dreadful embrace of white silk.

Which meant that this small degree of awareness was probably the result of Sunny’s unreasonably high resistance to mental attacks. Even though he now shared his head with the Terror, a part of his mind was still fighting against it.

What good was it, though, since Sunny could neither free himself nor stop the creature from replacing his very self?

As he was drawn closer and closer to the beautiful blossom of white silk, he could feel himself growing… insubstantial. With each moment, his thoughts became less his own. His eyes stared at the silken veil, moving on their own. As if something else was looking through them.

Finally, Sunny felt true horror.

He had been scared before, but never like this. Sensing something else take possession of his body, while utterly helpless to resist the slow dissolution of his will… it was the realization of all his deepest, most guarded fears.

And it was being done by the Terror of LO49… the hateful, abominable creature that had already defeated him once.

Full of dark resentment, Sunny gritted his teeth, and summoned two Memories. That much he could still do, at least.

One was a small lantern cut out of obsidian.

The other was a fearsome mask of black lacquered wood, with vicious fangs and three sharp, twisting horns.

Weaver’s Mask… Sunny had not called upon it in a long time.

It frightened him, as well, almost as much as the Terror.

Trying not to think about what he was about to do, Sunny activated the single enchantment of the Shadow Lantern, commanding it to devour all light around it.

There was no light to devour in the dark abyss, but that was not what he wanted. What he really wanted was for the divine Memory to gobble up as much of his essence as it could.

The Shadow Lantern burned through most of the essence Sunny had in the time it took the white tendril of silk to bring him to the pallid blossom. There was very little of it left, now…

Sunny felt like his mind was almost gone.

Struggling to wrestle control of his face from the terrifying presence, he forced himself to grin. He wanted that smile to be menacing, but all it ended up being was weak and scared.

‘A pity…’

He sensed a vast shadow that was full of harrowing wrongness looming close, and thought:

‘You wanted to see through my eyes? Well, then… look…’

With that, Sunny reached into Weaver’s Mask and activated its second enchantment…

[Where is my eye?]

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