Currently, Lazy and the cohort were walking through the gutted bones of the ruined city, toward the Bright Castle.
Effie—after finally calming down—had given them the same rundown.
No gateway here, or at least not one anyone had found. Gunlaug and his Lieutenants were ruling in the Castle, running their twisted little tax system with soul shards.
Escaping the IRS, it seemed, was no small feat. Even in the Dream Realm.
They pressed westward, toward the castle that pierced the center of the Dark City like a stake through a vampire's heart.
Nephis, ever the relentless one, asked the same question again—why no one had tried to overthrow Gunlaug's rule.
And Effie, just as exhausted, answered the same.
"He's too powerful…"
Sunny chuckled under his breath. "Even for the Lightless Heir?"
His senses—quiet, all-seeing—swept the city like a phantom wind. Nothing escaped him.
Kai, ever the actor, was off performing for a few unsuspecting Sleepers. He had, apparently, acclaimed himself one of the wealthiest in the Castle. The irony nearly made Sunny laugh out loud—if only he knew about the Supreme shards tucked into Sunny's shadow.
Effie had gone back to her home to rest.
Gunlaug was being entertained by guests atop his throne—though Sunny had more colorful verbs for what he was doing.
Outside, Harus waited with a dog's patience, ever-ready for his master's command.
Sunny's expression cooled. If there was one thing he loathed—viscerally, absolutely—it was choosing to become someone's slave.
The Lieutenants were scattered, lost in their own pointless tasks. Some filed reports. Some lounged like nobles. The usual.
This time, they reached the gates far quicker than before. Likely because the nightmare creatures steered clear. They could sense him now. If not him, then at least the danger he posed.
"Be careful, Cass. There are steps ahead," Sunny said softly as they neared the looming gates.
They soon came face-to-face with two guards—neither polite, nor particularly bright.
"What do you want, rat?" one of them spat.
Sunny smiled, pulling three soul shards from his pocket.
"For me and these two." He gestured toward Nephis and Cassie.
"That one will pay his own tribute," he added with a smirk, nodding toward Caster, who blinked in shock.
"What?"
Sunny tilted his head, feigning innocence. "I was generous. Gave you one shard for every three I gave Nephis and Cassie."
One of the guards chuckled, snatched the shards, and motioned them inside.
But as they passed, the other guard muttered just loud enough to be heard.
"If those bitches won't become Gunlaug's playthings, maybe we can give 'em a ride."
Sunny stopped.
And for a breathless moment—there was no more Sleeper Sunless.
Only wrath.
"What did you say?" he asked, voice dipped in malevolence.
Last time, they hadn't done so.
What had changed? Had he been too polite?
"You heard us, rat. If Gunlaug doesn't take 'em, we will."
He turned, ready to deliver judgment with the weight of a sovereign.
"Kne—"
But then, a tug.
Light. Gentle.
Cassie.
Why?
She knew what he could do. That he could kill anyone in this city with a thought.
So why stop him?
A vision? Fear? Or something else entirely?
He didn't know. So—he didn't act.
"Alright," he said, his voice calm, measured. And he turned away.
The guard scoffed. "That's right, hide behind girls like th—"
This time, Sunny didn't turn. Didn't speak.
He passed the sentence in silence.
'Make them suffer. Once a day. Every day. Until they die,' he whispered to the shadows. 'Only then will I allow you peace within me.'
The shadows obliged.
He shielded Cassie's ears with soft shadows.
"You don't need to hear this," he murmured.
Then came the screams.
High and sharp, tearing through the air like knives.
The guards crumpled, howling. There would be no reprieve. Not for them.
Other guards rushed over, confusion in their eyes. All they saw were two of their own—scraping the ground, wailing.
Sunny, Nephis, and Cassie were already walking away. Caster remained behind. Stunned.
Inside the castle, they approached the desk.
Behind it stood Harper—a frail, unhealthy boy with a papery complexion.
Sunny offered a lazy smile. "First time here. A little orientation would be nice."
Harper nodded, picked up a quill, and opened a ledger.
"Not much to it. Just need your names. We've got plenty of rooms in the Tower of Dusk. Quiet place, peaceful. Names, please."
Sunny tapped the desk thoughtfully. "Hmm. Sure."
"I'm Sunless. This is Cassie, and Nephis."
Harper jotted their names and date of arrival.
Two days.
It had only been two days since they'd landed on the Forgotten Shore.
Compared to the seventy-seven days it had taken last time—this was a miracle.
Mostly thanks to the Fenrir Express.
"All set," Harper said, nodding. "Leave your worries behind. Within these walls, you're safe. Nothing will harm you here."
He led them through winding halls, offering commentary along the way.
"Just remember to show respect. Especially to guards and hunters. They risk their lives to keep us safe. If there's a… misunderstanding, it's best to stay calm. Be mindful of their burdens. Yes."
Sunny gave him a dead stare.
"What you mean is—don't mess with Gunlaug's dogs. And if they bite, we should swallow it."
Harper hesitated. Then smiled weakly.
"…Yes. That's basically it."
Sunny scoffed. "If they come for me, I'll deal with them my way."
The boy didn't argue. Just led them in silence to the western-most tower.
Eventually, he stopped.
"How many rooms?"
"Three. Adjacent," Sunny replied.
"I think that can be arranged," Harper said and walked ahead.
Soon, they stood before three wooden doors. Harper handed him three iron keys.
"They're small, but cozy. Food will be served an hour after sunrise, in the Keep's main hall. Enjoy your stay."
He offered a polite smile and left.
Inside was the usual—straw bed, wobbly chest, tiny desk.
Sunny stared at it for a moment, then threw himself onto the bed.
Not out of fatigue.
Out of curiosity.
'What was it called again?' he mused. "Ah, yes. Nostalgia. Though… not particularly impressive."
The bed was lumpy. It creaked like an old man's back.
'How do people sleep on these things?'
He stood and stepped out, heading next door.
Cassie's room.
He knocked.
"Cassie? You up?"
No answer at first.
Then, a click. The door opened. Cassie stood there in the cloak he had woven for her.
"Yes? Want something?"
Sunny glanced inside.
Same damn straw bed.
"Not really," he said. "Just thought your bed looked as miserable as mine. I came to do you a favor."
The shadows stirred, curling with purpose.
Sunny had spent more time than he cared to admit studying mattresses. He had declared war on discomfort. He had a dream—to craft the most perfect, luxurious mattress of darkness known to man.
The shadows wrapped the bed like velvet, transforming the straw into something elegant. Comfortable.
Cassie tilted her head, curious.
"What kind of favor?"
Sunny grinned.
"I'm on a sacred journey, Cassie. The path of comfort. The creation of the most heavenly mattress in history. I need feedback."
She stepped forward. Reached out. Her fingers traced the transformed surface.
It was different.
Softer. Slightly taller. Embracing, not swallowing.
She climbed onto the bed. Sank into it—not deep, but just enough.
If she had to choose a word, it would be… comfy.
She let herself rest in the feeling for a moment, then rose.
The shadows remained. Sunny had willed them to stay.
"It's very comfortable, Sunny," Cassie said with a soft smile. "Thank you."
Sunny nodded. "It's the least I could do."
He turned to leave.
"Now I've got to get Nephis' feedback. For science."
With a low chuckle, he stepped out and walked to the next door.
Nephis' room.
He knocked.
The door opened instantly.
Nephis stood there, sword already in hand.
Sunny lifted his hands slightly. "I'm not here to spar, Nephis."
A beat.
"We need to talk."
Nephis considered his words in silence.
Then—
wordlessly—she stepped aside.
He passed her, slow and deliberate, into the room.
It was nearly identical to his and Cassie's: sparse, practical, holding just enough warmth to be lived in but not enough to be home.
He reached the center. With a flick of thought, shadows swirled beneath him, coalescing into the shape of a chair.
He adjusted his shroud—absently—and sat.
"Before we dive into the serious part of our conversation," he said, voice light with something almost playful, "I'd like your feedback."
Nephis tilted her head, not quite frowning. "Feedback on what?"
He raised a hand.
The shadows stirred.
"You see, Nephis… I've chosen a rather noble pursuit—if I may say so myself. I've taken it upon me to craft the most comfortable mattress known to mankind."
Darkness bloomed across the humble straw bed, wrapping it in tendrils of shadow that pulsed, shifted, and finally settled.
Nephis watched the transformation with that quiet, inscrutable gaze of hers.
But curiosity flickered there—just enough to catch the light.
"Try it," he said, gesturing toward the bed.
She stepped forward, sat down without hesitation. She didn't lie down, of course—not that he expected her to.
Not yet.
"It's good," she said, flatly.
He smiled.
"Well, that's something," he replied, summoning another chair from the shadows—this one placed directly across from him.
"Sit. We've much to discuss."
With a final gesture, the shadows stretched out, climbing the walls, sealing the room in silence.
Not even whispers would leave.