Shadow Slave

It used to be that merely activating [Where is my eye?] was lethally dangerous to Sunny. His mortal mind was not meant to behold the endlessness of fate, so gazing upon it could utterly obliterate him. In fact, Sunny had come very close to being annihilated the first time he saw it — closer than ever before or after, perhaps.

Gradually, however, the situation changed. Now that Sunny was Supreme — a true demigod — his consciousness was vast and potent enough to survive glimpsing fate. Of course, he was still not qualified to perceive fate in all its infinite glory, but he could endure the burden of being exposed to it long enough to limit the scope of his perception, at least.

He could even touch the Strings of Fate, absorbing endless mysteries contained within them — witnessing events that had taken place in the ancient past, learning tantalizing secrets of the present... even glimpsing hints of the future that had been meant to come, but never arrived.

Sunny had been quite excited by that ability of his once, hoping that he could gain a treasure trove of knowledge by interacting with the Strings of Fate.

However, knowledge was a sword that cut both ways.

Sunny had not failed to learn from the examples of Cassie and Mordret.

Cassie had learned something that she was not meant to know, and had to destroy herself as a result. If not for the miraculous power of her Aspect, she would have been dead by now — or worse still, consumed by Corruption.

Mordret had glimpsed the terrifying truth of the Dream Realm as he ascended the pinnacle of Apotheosis, and was cast down into the boundless darkness of Corruption moments later. Unlike Cassie, he did not survive the sharp edge of knowledge. Sunny was in a similar position to them. He was powerful enough to brush against the forbidden truths of existence, but not powerful enough to survive them — and since there was no telling what he would see in the endless tapestry of fate, using his ability to gaze into the Strings of Fate was innately hazardous.

Still... as long as he was careful, it was less dangerous than blindly wandering the Underworld.

Granted, using [Where is my eye?] posed another danger. Despite how inexhaustible Sunny’s reserve of essence seemed, the task of sustaining the active enchantment of Weaver’s Mask still put a strain on it. Even if he determined the direction they had to follow, he would be left weakened for a while — weakened in the depths of the Underworld, no less.

But with Nephis and Saint there to pick up the slack, Sunny could take that risk.

He exhaled slowly.

Nephis studied him for a moment before asking:

”Are you ready?”

Sunny remained motionless for a moment, then shook his head and activated [Where is my eye?]

The great tapestry of fate revealed itself to him.

Suddenly, the endless darkness of the Underworld did not seem so endless anymore. In fact, it was utterly dwarfed by the infinite expanse of torn, tangled strings that permeated it like a spider’s web — it seemed like an ant facing a vast, glittering galaxy.

He felt a terrible pressure descend on his mind, pushing it to the verge of shattering. Gasping, he swiftly blinded himself to the immensity of fate, concentrating only on a small part of the great tapestry — on himself.

Around Sunny, the mass of Strings of Fate was so thick that it almost looked like a solid wall. Countless threads pierced his body, wound tightly around him, as if he was a puppet controlled by a thousand puppeteers. Sunny did not know how he had managed to move under the weight of all these strings before... how he had been able to breathe before.

But now that the Strings of Fate were torn and untethered, they gave a little, allowing him a measure of freedom.

One of these threads connected him to Shadow Weave.

Now, he just had to find it.

Finding a single thread among the myriad Strings of Fate entangling Sunny was difficult, but not impossible. After all, each of them was different, and those touched by divinity were special. Sunny did not know how to describe the feeling, but it was as if all Strings of Fate had a unique presence that he could just barely sense.

Still, there were more than a few of them that Sunny felt drawn to... the pull they exerted was his intuition giving him a hint. He hesitated for a few moments, then raised a hand and reached toward one of the Strings.

His fingers touched the intangible thread, and in the next moment, a torrent of images flooded his mind.

A torrent of dreadful, appalling images that carried with them a horrible truth.

In the visions, Sunny was struggling and screaming as he was being buried alive. His struggles were hopeless, because strong ropes bound his body, and his screams were muffled, because a bone mask covered his face.

A mask with three eyes, carved from the skull of a being that had come from the Void.

At first, the soil was like a blanket that covered him. Then, it obscured the sky. Then, it grew into a crushing weight that pressed down on his chest, making it difficult to breathe.

Eventually, a towering barrow grew above Sunny, heavy enough to crush stones into dust.

But Sunny wasn’t crushed. He didn’t die... he couldn’t die.

Because he was...

Gritting his teeth, Sunny pulled his hand away from the String of Fate. It wasn’t easy — in fact, it had felt as if his fingers fused with the ethereal thread, its pull so overpowering that even his Supreme strength was not enough to let go.

Now that he looked at it, the String of Fate was suddenly inky-black — an appalling darkness covered it like oil, seeping out from the torn thread.

Looking down, Sunny saw the same appalling darkness marring his fingers, slowly being absorbed into his skin. The tips of his fingers were already beginning to rot. Feeling a cold shiver run down his spine, he concentrated and resisted the vestige of Corruption that was trying to take root in his body and soul.

“Nephis!”

Moments later, a cleansing flame enveloped his hand. Since Sunny had barely glimpsed the soul of the man being buried alive, he was only subjected to an insignificant amount of Corruption. So, his innate resistance and Neph’s flames managed to eradicate it before it poisoned his soul. Trembling, he studied his hand for a long while, making sure that no trace of the appalling rot remained.

Then, he took a deep breath and reached for the next string.

An eternity later, Sunny sighed and dismissed Weaver’s Mask.

His face was even paler than usual, the skin around his eyes charred and seeping with blood.

He looked north.

Sunny remained motionless for a short while, and then closed his eyes.

This time, he had managed to escape [Where is my eye?] without losing his own. He also had not needed Nephis to bring him out of the trance. However, the strain had still been tremendous.

But the result was worth it.

Exhaling slowly, Sunny opened his eyes and looked at Nephis.

“We will have to reach the very heart of the Underworld.”