Shadow Slave

”Where are we going, anyway?”

Morgan looked out of the window at the blurry outlines of the old buildings, with plumes of foaming water escaping from the rusty drainpipe spouts. The gutters were drowning and gargling, unable to swallow the rainwater fast enough — this part of the city was one of the poorer ones, with many houses standing empty and abandoned, condemned for renovation.

Sunny remained silent for a moment, then responded in a neutral tone:

”Somewhere we can regroup and plan what to do next without worrying about being killed by random passersby.”

By now, he was starting to understand how the Palace of Imagination operated. It was designed to bring fantasies to life — fantasies that belonged to the Castle Master, to be precise. However, the wondrous mechanisms of this impossible place were broken and in a state of disrepair, having surrendered to the ruthless burden of time in the absence of their creator.

The Castellan was one such faulty mechanism. It was more of a function than a being, and that function had gone rogue. It had usurped the authorities of the Castle Master — not for a selfish or nefarious purpose, but simply in an attempt to keep faithfully performing its duty. To make the imagination of those who visited the Great Mirror a reality.

The Castellan was failing, though.

Things must have been stable when the only human residing in the Palace of Imagination was the other Mordret. The Castellan had created Mirage City and took care of that abandoned human child… the only real person in the city of reflections. That was why Mordret had been able to survive and grow up into a semblance of a sane man.

However, now there were more humans in the Palace of Imagination, and all their complicated human wishes and emotions were clashing against each other.

The Castellan was slowly coming undone under the contradictory input it was receiving from the uninvited guests, and Mirage City was coming undone with it.

So… like any living being, Mirage City was trying to protect itself.

That was why every real person within its bounds had faced life-threatening situations as of late. At first, it was just Mordret, who had been hunted by the Nihilist — a serial killer who did not really exist, and was instead a collective manifestation of the city’s lethal will.

But now that Sunny, Effie, and Saint were added into the mix, the ways in which Mirage City was trying to deal with them were becoming more sophisticated. Sunny noted it while fighting the thugs who had accosted Saint. They weren’t random people whom the Castellan had taken control of and sent to kill her — otherwise, they would not have come prepared and armed with the tools of their dirty trade. They would not have known her name and her background… they would not have been able to talk at all.

Instead, they would have been no different from the glassy-eyed zombies whom the inhabitants of Mirage City seemed to turn into when someone nearby was acting out of character.

The same could be said about the four hired killers who had infiltrated the mental asylum and come to kill Morgan, disguised as staff members. And Sunny had a feeling that the assassin who had broken into his apartment was the same.

And that… that was enough for him to make conclusions about the way Mirage City was trying to get rid of them.

It was just as the real Mordret had said. Unlike reality, the Palace of Imagination was a place capable of being changed not only proactively, but also retroactively. There had not been a Nihilist before, but now that Sunny and Effie were walking the streets of Mirage City, there was. There always had been, even — the past was changed to fit the present.

And judging by what happened tonight, it had not been changed randomly.

’The Castellan is building a… story.’

The Castellan was struggling to keep the grand illusion intact, so it tried to remove the foreign irritants in a way that compromised the integrity of Mirage City the least. In other words, whoever wanted to kill Sunny, Saint, Effie, Morgan, and Mordret had to have the means, motive, and opportunity that fit the internal logic of Mirage City.

Even if this mysterious culprit had not existed yesterday, they did today — they had existed today.

Which meant that the mystery could be solved. The culprit could be found and neutralized…

With some good old-fashioned detective work.

Sunny smiled darkly.

”First, we need to ensure our safety. Then, we need to find our adversary and crush them. And then…”

He lingered for a few moments.

That was where true difficulty lay. The culprit, whoever they were, was merely a symptom of the problem, not the problem itself. Finding and dealing with them would buy Sunny and his companions time, but it would not solve the fundamental issue.

Whom they really needed to find was the Castellan.

A single reflection in a city of twenty million Others.

How the hell were they supposed to discover it?

Sunny sighed. ”Then, we will think of something.”

The PTV stopped near one of the abandoned buildings. This one was larger and more imposing than the rest of the houses surrounding it, albeit just as forlorn and decrepit. ř₳N𝐨ʙÊs

It was an old church.

Looking at it through the windshield, Sunny sighed.

”What is it with me and ruined cathedrals…”

It seemed that he was a magnet for dilapidated temples, just like Kai was a magnet for dragons.

Immediately after dealing with the assassin and clashing with Mordret, Sunny had contacted Effie to warn her about a possible attack. They briefly discussed a few things, including the need to find a shelter — this church was the location they chose.

This entire neighborhood was scheduled for renovation, so it was mostly cleared out in preparation for the initial round of demolition. However, the director of the company contracted by the city to perform the costly project… ended up becoming one of the Nihilist’s victims.

The works stalled, and the empty neighborhood ended up in a state of limbo. Very few people still resided here, and even fewer visited, since this area was out of the way of everything. So, it was a perfect spot for a hideout.

”Let’s go. We’ll be… we should be safe here.”

He opened the door and climbed out of the PTV first. Saint and Morgan followed.

Just then, bright headlights ignited in the darkness, illuminating the falling torrents of rain and nearly blinding them.

Another PTV was parked in the shadow of the decrepit church, all but invisible in the rain. Its door opened, and a tall figure stepped out into the light.

A black umbrella opened with a quiet sound.

…Holding the umbrella with one hand and a half-eaten donut with the other, Effie gave Sunny and his companions a placid look.

Then, she grinned.

”Hey, Morgan. Hey…”

Her gaze landed on Saint, and her eyes widened.

”You... w—who the hell are you?”

Sunny sighed.

”This is Saint. My Shadow.”

Effie stared at him with a stunned expression.

”You mean that this… this is the fearsome onyx knight that always follows you around? This gorgeous creature?!”

Sunny scratched the back of his head.

”Yes? Oh, right… you never saw her without a helmet. I forgot.”

Effie opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again.

”Does Nephis know?!”

He raised an eyebrow, confused.

”Know what?”

Effie stared at him for a few more moments, then closed her eyes and shook her head.

”Never mind… let’s go inside, I’m freezing. ”

She could not help to steal another glance at Saint, though.

Well, Sunny could not blame her. Saint had been made in the image of Storm God, after all.

It was not every day that one got to behold the face of a goddess...