Shadow Slave

Things were turning for the worse in Red Hill.

Even more disturbingly, things were turning for the worse everywhere.

The Awakened who still dwelled in the waking world were bringing concerning news every time they returned to the Dream Realm. Humanity seemed to be reeling in the wake of the recent revelations... what had started as scandalous rumors spread like a plague, and slowly, the unassailable glory of the Immortal Flame clan became a source of anxiety instead.

For a great and quickly growing number of people, at least.

The streets of NQSC were restless. The mood in other Quadrants was tumultuous, as well. Some people felt uneasy about the rumors, others believed them and wanted to express their indignation. They clashed often, just like it was happening in Red Hill — only on a far greater scale. Suddenly, the situation in the waking world turned even more tense and grim than before.

The same was happening in the Dream Realm, albeit some regions seemed to be faring worse than the others. The critics of the Immortal Flame were few and far between at first. Then, their numbers gradually swelled. Eventually, they began to unite and congregate, forming groups and cliques. From there, the apostates established themselves as a significant faction instead of a few disparate, marginal groups. It was still disorganized and lacked cohesion, but was already far more than an inconsequential curiosity. Instead, it had an undeniable presence in all layers of society.

Mundane people, Awakened, and even Ascended... only the Saints were still a bastion of loyalty, standing by Changing Star and the Immortal Flame clan like a fortress made of human souls.

At least outwardly, they were.

Naturally, those who had lost faith in Changing Star did not simply become nihilists. Quite conveniently, a new Supreme had presented himself as an alternative target for their respect and admiration just as their confidence in the Immortal Flame was crumbling.

It was Asterion, the Dreamspawn.

The enigmatic Sovereign did not do anything in particular to win their support, preferring to keep to himself. Instead of a magnificent palace, he lived in a ramshackle church on the outskirts of Bastion. Instead of a glorious retinue of powerful Saints, he seemed content being tended to by a few mundane volunteers.

And yet, his esteem and popularity only seemed to grow.

The loyalists who still revered Changing Star and the turncoats who now put their hopes in the Dreamspawn were often at each other’s throats. There were no large-scale clashes between the loyalists and the turncoats yet, but the number of ordinary quarrels and confrontations was incalculable.

Random strangers were getting into fights on the streets. Long-standing friendships were ending in bitter resentment. Tender relationships turned fragile and shattered. Family members got into shouting matches and stopped talking to each other... Comrades who fought side by side against the Nightmare Creatures on the frontlines of the Human Domain suddenly couldn’t trust their fellow Awakened anymore.

Of course, this endemic disruption could not fail but result in actual harm.

All across the Human Domain, the spinning chains of industries and infrastructure were screeching as they slowed down. Services and logistics were becoming strained. The military cohesion was suffering, as well, which led to more blood being spilled on the battlefield. The rate of the Dream Realm being tamed fell.

The same disruptions were harming Red Hill, too.

In fact, if the denizens of this remote city had access to the big picture, they would have known that their Citadel was hit by the plague harder than any other.

Just a couple of months after the rumors first arrived at Red Hill, it changed. The Awakened were looking at each other with hostility and apprehension instead of keeping an eye out for the Nightmare Creatures. The lively streets had become tense and quiet. The inns and markets were full of unfriendly stares and hushed voices. There were more accidents in the glass manufactory. The mining output reduced, and when the situation worsened even more, it came to a halt.

The miner had no work to do, so all he could do was ruminate at home. His wife was not fighting with his parents anymore, at least, because his parents now admired the man named Asterion, too. Instead, he was the odd one out, suffering their silent treatment.

The Awakened warrior had lost a few comrades in the battle against the creatures of the Hive. They could have lived, perhaps, if they had stayed loyal to the Immortal Flame. Those who accepted the Dreamspawn could not be blessed by the grace of Changing Star anymore, and so, they had died from wounds that could have been washed away by the white flames.

He should have felt lucky to still be a part of her Domain. But strangely enough, he felt like a hostage instead.

The waitress wanted to find a way to understand her daughter again. She used to think that the cook was full of nonsense, but now, she sought him out to ask questions. He spoke at length about the oldest Supreme, Lord Asterion... and the more he spoke, the more his words seemed to make sense to her.

Things in the outside world, meanwhile, were becoming worse and worse.

There were protests in NQSC. Blood spilled on the streets of Ravenheart. In Bastion, a large fire broke out, swallowing entire streets before being put out.

A new rumor spread faster than the fire — the rumor that Changing Star had tortured and imprisoned one of her own Saints. That was when Red Hill was suddenly cut off from the outside world.

The Awakened who used to bring news from the waking world stopped returning to the Dream Realm. The merchant caravan that was supposed to arrive at the end of the month never came.

The Lord of Hell sent several cohorts of warriors west to investigate what had happened. They found the enormous wagons standing in the palm of the dead god’s skeletal hand, the giant Echoes that used to pull them gone.

The merchant and the guards were dead. Some of the corpses were torn apart and devoured by abominations, but some remained intact. The fatal wounds on the bodies seemed to have been delivered by human weapons.

The news that the scouts brought back plunged the city into an anxious quiet. Strangely enough, the Lord of Hell did not send his Masters to the waking world to request assistance from the forces of the Human Domain. He did not leave his city to perform that task personally, either.

A few more weeks passed in tension and anxiety.

The quarrels continued, visible to everyone through the glass walls.

The nightmares of vicious flames and horrid pain continued, as well.

People were angry and tired. More than that, many of them started to feel like they were going insane. Some were convinced that their reflections were behaving strangely, the others swore that they had caught them staring back from the countless glass surfaces.

It felt like Red Hill was nearing a breaking point...

But then, suddenly, the city found peace again.

There were no more fights or quarrels. People were not distrustful of each other anymore, and neither did they show any hostility toward their fellow citizens. A pleasant atmosphere of unity and togetherness returned to Red Hill, and it slowly regained its former liveliness.

The mining resumed. The manufactory got busy processing the mined glass. The warriors of the Maharana clan cooperated flawlessly to protect the city, the quarries, and the roads leading to them.

The nightmares stopped, as well.

Red Hill had not regained peace because its citizens learned to overcome their differences, though.

Instead, it had regained peace because everyone became united in venerating the true Sovereign of the Dream Realm — Lord Asterion, the Dreamspawn.

The miner was finally happy with his life again. The work at the glass mine was as tough as ever, but all miners were united by a shared zeal. His wife and his parents were getting along nicely, and his transparent home was filled with warmth.

The waitress made up with her daughter and finally saw her smiling again. Although the inn she worked at stood empty, many locals still visited to eat a lavish meal. Watching them enjoy the food and the hospitality, she was able to remember why she had found her job so rewarding.

The Awakened warrior was relieved to see that his comrades were acting like a proper cohort once again. Whatever conflict had broken the cohesion of their unit was gone, and on top of that, his younger sibling seemed to have gotten over his adolescent anger. Their family had found harmony once more.

All by the grace of Lord Asterion.

The city had become idyllic — well, as idyllic as a city situated in hell could get.

It was united in pursuit of the greater good. Of togetherness, of communion...

Strangely enough, the Lord of Hell had not been the last to be free of the plague. Instead, it was his cousin, a Master of the Maharana clan by the name of Karna. When things had seemed to be utterly calamitous, Karna came to talk to Saint Dar on the spire of the Red Hill.

From there, the strange movements of the people below could be seen clearly, revealed by the transparent glass.

”Dar! We’ve lost most of our Awakened warriors to the plague. It feels like there’s no one sane left in the city by now... the quarantine measures you put in place are not working! Isolating ourselves from the waking world was of no use. You need to escape and seek help from Lady Nephis, now!”

The Lord of Hell, however, did not seem to share in his agitation. Instead, he looked at his cousin calmly.

“Why?”

Karna was shocked by the question.

”What do you mean? We’ve lost the city! The entire population is under the mind hex of that monster!”

Saint Dar sighed, then shook his head with a smile.

”Lord Asterion... is not a monster. He is the greater good.”

He looked into the distance.

“He is salvation for all.”

Karna’s eyes widened in horror.

He took a step back, but Dar was upon him in an instant. Grasping his cousin by the throat, the fearsome Saint raised him into the air with one hand.

He studied Karna indifferently for a moment, then snapped his neck and threw the body over the edge of the observation platform.

Turning to the horizon, Dar inhaled slowly and smiled.

“...For all.”

Below him, Red Hill was finally at peace. The idea of Changing Star could not reach it anymore, and so, she held no power here. Finally, he wouldn’t dream of burning alive. His people would be safe — both now and in the future.

The future was bright.

Dar’s expression was blissful.

But then, it darkened slightly.

Looking north, he frowned. There, thousands of kilometers away...

The mists of the Hollow Mountains were boiling.

“Do you really think that?”

Dar of the Maharana clan spun, searching for the being who had somehow avoided his gaze and got so close to him. However, all he saw was his reflection on the surface of the clear glass.

The reflection smiled pleasantly.

“That the Dreamspawn will save everyone?” It laughed.

”How can he save everyone? He can’t even save you.”

Dar’s eyes narrowed as he glared at his own reflection.

Far in the north, grotesque figures were emerging from the billowing mist.

The smile slowly drained from the reflection’s face... his own face.

It spoke in a cold tone:

“However, you can help me save myself. For that, you have my gratitude — truly.”

Dar’s hand moved, and the glass exploded, erasing the sinister reflection. At the same time, he closed his eyes tightly.

In the silence that followed, the sounds of glass shards falling were like a terrifying melody.

And from that melody, a chilling voice came once more:

“Open your eyes.”

Dar took a step back.

”Open your eyes... open. OPEN YOUR EYES!” He refused.

The voice laughed.

“Ah, I am just joking. I have already entered your eyes, and took everything I wanted from them.”

When Dar of the Maharana clan heard those words, he realized that something had indeed entered his eyes.

And then, it entered his soul.

At the same time, millions of reflections around Red Hill moved.

The miner blinked a couple of times, noticing that his reflection had stopped mirroring his movements at some point. Besides him, his wife was looking at the wall of their home in confusion, as well.

The waitress had been taking an order from a client, but found herself getting distracted. Was she just seeing things, or was the reflection looking at her instead of at the guests?

The Awakened warrior saw a body falling from the height of the Red Hill. It hit the surface of the glass with an appalling squelch, painting the square below red. He rushed toward it, shocked, and saw his pale reflection in the growing puddle of blood. The reflection looked strangely indifferent despite his fear and dismay.

The citizens all across the city stopped to stare at the eerie spectacle of misbehaving reflection in shock, and as they looked at the glistening glass, a merciless presence made its way into their eyes.

A litany of screams flooded the streets of Red Hill, making the mystical glass vibrate. There was no blood.

There were no corpses, either.

But by the time the sun rose the next day, Red Hill was no more.