Asteria did not have the luxury to process the fact that she had just completed a momentous step of her Aspect Legacy. Her mind was entirely consumed by the lingering echo of the Daemon's words. The entity looming before her in the heart of the ivory sanctum was one of the Gods' Flaws.
"Is that all you wished to ask, imposter of the progenitor?" Hope's voice sounded friction-worn and frustrated, her divine patience thoroughly exhausted by the intrusion of the pitiful Queen standing at the edge of her shackles.
The Daemon sighed, the sound like wind rushing through an empty canyon, before her posture relented slightly. "Since you have already entangled yourself with my 'brethren', I suppose that makes us siblings, of a sort — if that is the crude nomenclature you humans prefer to employ."
'Have I seriously just been adopted by the Divine?' Asteria's violet eyes widened, a sharp throb blooming behind her temples from the sheer volume of reality-shattering information she was being forced to digest.
"Oh... um... yes, that is all I wanted to ask," Asteria stammered, her usually confident voice trailing off into the vast, echoing spaces of the hall. Then, a sudden spark of clarity pierced through her confusion. She remembered why she had entered this Nightmare in the first place: she was supposed to be scouting the terrain for the cohort waiting anxiously in the real world. "Actually, Lady Hope, I have one final query. Do you truly wish to be free, or are you content to remain here?"
The Daemon did not answer immediately. The silence stretched between them for several agonizing minutes, heavy with the scent of ancient sorrow.
"I should like to be free," Hope finally murmured, her eyes distant. "Though I know that even if I sit here and bide my time, they will eventually require my presence. Sooner or later, the chains must break. Therefore, I do not truly mind the wait. If that is all you have left to offer, leave my sight."
***
'Called me a sibling and then promptly ushered me out of the house,' Asteria thought, a wry chuckle bubbling up her throat as she navigated the descending marble stairs of the tower. 'How utterly ungrateful. You finally reunite with your long-lost family, and your first instinct is to kick them out into the cold.'
Stepping outside the threshold of the Ivory Tower, the sheer, surreal beauty of the ancient world hit her like a wave. The fading sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in deep washes of crimson. Wild, vibrant flora clung to the white stone architecture of the island, catching the gentle breeze and filling the air with the intoxicating, sweet scent of mountain blossoms.
And waiting on the terrace, looking every bit as magnificent as the scenery, was the Sorcerer of the East.
"Did you finish your conversation with Desire, my dear friend from the sky?" Noctis asked. His familiar, effortlessly cheerful smile was plastered across his pale features, completely devoid of the terrifying gravity he had displayed only an hour prior.
"Thankfully, I did," Asteria replied, extending her arms above her head to stretch her aching muscles, letting the warm wind ground her senses. "Noctis?"
The sorcerer practically jumped at the sound of his name, blinking in surprise. It was a rare occurrence for anyone in this Kingdom to address him so informally, lacking the usual rigid titles or fearful deference.
"Is there something you require, my friend?" he responded, his tone warming instantly. This time, Asteria scrutinized his eyes and found absolutely no hidden malice or penetrating gaze. He was genuine.
"No, nothing in particular. I simply wanted to thank you for your hospitality, your eccentric friendship, and the sorcery lessons — even if our time together was incredibly short." She turned her gaze back toward the clouded, twilight sky. "I believe it is my time to return home now. Or, as you so eloquently put it, back into the sky."
Noctis, the undisputed genius of the Kingdom of Hope, Sorcerer of the East and one of the seven immortal Chain Lords, let out a soft, melancholic sigh. He offered her a gentle bow. "May we meet again, Asteria, if the threads of Fate allow it."
The intimate text of the Nightmare Spell flickered into the periphery of her vision.
[You can exit: Second Trial: Desire's Shackles. Would you like to exit?]
"Yes," she whispered.
***
In the Dream Realm, the hall holding Hope's Shackles was draped in a solemn, tense quiet. The members of the cohort sat in small clusters around the massive, broken iron links on the floor, sharing sparse rations and drafts of water. It was a peaceful scene on the surface, but the underlying anxiety was palpable; five of them were fully aware that they were preparing to march into a psychological meat grinder.
Yet, their silver lining was the Queen of Nightmare, currently drifting through the void to map out the hazards of the trial beforehand. It was an inherently terrifying realization — that an Awakened possessed an ability so broken it could navigate the absolute rules of the Spell, stepping in and out of death sentences at will.
"It's been a few days now. I'm starting to get incredibly restless," Effie muttered, tearing into a thick piece of dried meat with her teeth. "What do you think, Princess? Has she kicked the bucket?"
Nephis turned her head, her calm, grey eyes locking onto the fierce huntress. "We have to trust her. Asteria has kept her word so far; I see no logical reason why she would fail us now."
CRACK.
The air in the centre of the hall fractured with the sound of breaking glass. A rift tore open several feet above the stone floor, and a figure clad in torn, dusty black silks came tumbling out, crashing unceremoniously onto the pristine marble.
Her hair shimmered with a chaotic, oil-slick rainbow of colours, completely contrasting with the grime caking her face. She looked fundamentally refreshed, yet entirely exhausted by the mental strain of her journey.
"Asteria!" Effie barked, throwing her food aside and sprinting toward the fallen warrior. "Bloody hell, I was genuinely starting to think you'd abandoned us."
"Hah... But I returned, didn't I?" The Queen of Nightmare groaned, pushing herself up onto her elbows. A weary smile broke through the dirt on her face. "Every single time... I swear I land face-first into the floor. The universe is incredibly unfair." She threw her arms up in mock protest against the laws of physics.
***
Once Asteria had dusted herself off and drank her fill of water, the cohort gathered in a tight circle around the central dais.
"Did you discover anything of practical use within the seed?" Nephis began, striking directly at the heart of the matter.
Asteria scanned the faces surrounding her: the eager, powerful huntress; the composed archer; the blind, enigmatic seer; the quiet, spiteful shadow; and the stoic beauty of Changing Star.
"Yes. But before I give you the layout, I have a crucial question," Asteria said, her expression turning dead serious. "Do any of you possess any information regarding a specific set of ceremonial weapons? More precisely, the Wood, Obsidian, Glass, Iron, Ember, Ruby, and Ivory knives?"
A shadow detached itself from the pillar behind Nephis. Sunny stepped forward, his dark eyes fixed on Asteria with intense curiosity. "I happen to be in possession of the Obsidian knife. I used to have the Wood one as well, but it was completely destroyed during a prior conflict."
Asteria's face lit up with excitement before twisting into a frown. "Destroyed? Did you break it, or did something else happen?"
"No," Sunny explained, his voice low. "I plunged it into a powerful nightmare creature. The abomination died, and the blade shattered into dust along with it."
'So some of the original Chain Lords survived the fall, even to this day...' Asteria calculated rapidly.
Nephis tilted her head, her analytical mind working through the implications. "Why are these specific knives so vital to our survival, Asteria?"
Asteria let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through her multi-coloured hair. "I'm getting to that part! The ultimate objective of the nightmare is either to execute Hope or permanently ensure she never breaches her prison. The catch is that the entire Kingdom is anchored by seven massive chains."
She pointed directly at the shattered shackles resting on the floor behind them. "Each chain is inextricably tied to the life force of an immortal Transcendent — a Saint of the ancient world. They are completely immune to conventional harm; they can only be slain using the corresponding knife that holds their death."
The Changing Star mused over the information for a moment, absorbing the rules of the trial before gesturing for Asteria to continue.
"I don't have every granular detail, but I believe the Chain Lords don't hold their own knives; each one guards another's knife to maintain a balance of power. If your plan is to free the Daemon, you will need to hunt down and assassinate every single Saint still living within that era. If you enter the Seed already holding their respective deaths, your path will be exponentially easier."
Effie and Kai both shuddered, sharing a look of synchronized dread.
"Hold on," Effie stammered. "You're saying we either have to murder a small army of immortal Saints, or fight a literal Divine being?!"
"Is it entirely too late to scout around for a different Nightmare Seed?" Kai added nervously.
Nephis, however, dismissed their panic with a nonchalant wave of her hand, her eyes locked onto Asteria. "This information is invaluable. Thank you, Asteria."
"You're very welcome," Asteria said, slowly rising to her feet. As she stood, a bright flicker of white
sparks began to dance across her skin.
The [Might of Gold] manifested instantly, encasing her lithe frame in a brilliant, impenetrable layer of molten gold. In her right hand, she summoned the [Sentinel's Heart], its blade shimmering like pure starlight while a distinct crimson vein pulsed down the centre of the metal. To complete the transformation, a golden laurel crown materialized upon her head, gleaming under the dim light of the hall.
"I look forward to our next meeting," Asteria smiled, her voice echoing with power. "I expect all of you to be Masters by then."
With a final nod, she pulled hard on her internal tether, invoking her spatial connection. The ancient hall vanished in a flash of light, transporting her directly into the scorching, oppressive heat of a desert sun, right into the heart of a palace constructed entirely from shimmering, translucent crystal.
The [Theatre of Crystal] — the exact location where all her problems had originally begun.
***
Asteria wandered through the desolate halls of her Citadel, her boots clicking softly against the pristine crystal floors. She looked out over the crumbling, sun-bleached city she technically "ruled". The streets below were entirely empty, quiet, and devoid of life; the refugees from the Hollow Oak had heeded her stark warnings, successfully evacuating to a safer sanctuary elsewhere in the Dream Realm.
Yet, as she walked through the brilliant, refracting light of the palace, she knew this absolute stillness was an illusion.
Her heightened senses could still detect the faint, unsettling vibrations of corrupted abominations nesting in the dark corners of the city ruins. She would have to deal with them eventually, but that was a problem for another day. In truth, she hadn't needed to manifest her entire armoury back at the Ivory Tower; she had simply wanted to make a remarkably stylish exit in front of Sunless and Nephis.
Now, her immediate objective was to find a secure, undisturbed sanctuary within the sprawling, opulent palace layout. 'Perhaps the Vault still remains intact. If the structure survived this much, I might still be able to gain entry.'
Navigating a route etched into her memory through sheer terror, agonizing pain, and adrenaline, Asteria made her way toward the subterranean corridors. She eventually reached the grand hall that had once contained an infinite number of intersecting pathways — a labyrinth of spatial anomalies.
Now, the reality-warping magic had faded, leaving behind a simple, fractured corridor choked with crystalline debris and lifeless stone. At the far end of the hallway stood the entrance to the Vault of Splendor. Surprisingly, the massive, ornate gate was firmly shut, completely unblemished as though the surrounding destruction had never touched it.
'Now, how on earth am I supposed to crack this open?'
As if responding directly to her frustration, the chilly, detached chime of the Spell echoed in her mind, offering a solution.
[Glass Eyes are peering into your soul...]
[Glass Eyes have discovered a shattered memory.]
[Shattered Memory: Monarch's Talisman can be completely restored utilizing the attribute: "Fang of Weaver." Would you like to repair this shattered memory?]
"Well, I certainly didn't expect it to operate like this," she murmured, her thoughts drifting back to the cryptic parameters of her unique attribute.
[...Your armoury will be automatically repaired even upon shattering...]
"Sure. I don't see any logical reason to say–"
Asteria's sentence caught in her throat as a sudden, violent sensation tore through her chest.
She gasped as a massive quantity of her soul essence was forcefully violently ripped from her cores, entirely draining the equivalent of a full core's reserve in a single, agonizing second.
[Your shattered Memory: Monarch's Talisman has been fully restored.]
'I really should have guessed there would be a massive catch. The Spell never gives away anything for free,' Asteria grumbled internally, shaking her head in mock despair as she massaged her aching chest.
The [Monarch's Talisman] — a heavy, intricately carved crystal medallion — materialized in her palm. Ignoring the lingering exhaustion from her depleted essence, she stepped forward and pressed the artifact directly into the central recess of the Vault door.
[Your Memory: Monarch's Talisman is actively unraveling the ancient sorcery binding this threshold.]
'You're being remarkably chatty today, Spell. Is there a catastrophic surprise you're actively hiding from me?' She shivered, her instincts flaring with an acute sense of impending danger as the locking mechanisms began to turn.
With a deafening groan of ancient stone, the flawless, dusty Door of Splendor slowly unsealed, swinging inward to reveal the pitch-black abyss of the vault.
Asteria did not even have the time to take a single step forward before reality exploded.
CRACK.
A blast of pure, kinetic force erupted from the darkness of the vault, striking her squarely in the chest.
[Glass Eyes are peering into your soul...]
[Glass Eyes have discovered a profound weakness! Your Soul has been temporarily compromised. The expenditure of your soul essence has been dramatically increased, and your soul will now sustain amplified damage upon physical impact!]
"Oh, you have got to be–"
Asteria was sent hurtling backward through the air, her golden armour scraping violently against the crystal walls before she crashed into a pile of sharp debris. She hit the floor hard, coughing up a mouthful of warm, dark blood. The impact felt three times worse than it should have, her very soul vibrating with a sickening, fragile ache.
A monstrous silhouette stepped out from the dust of the threshold. A foe infinitely stronger than herself had been waiting in the dark, and she realized instantly that if she didn't end this confrontation with absolute speed, she would never walk out of this citadel alive.
Scrambling to her feet, the Queen of Nightmare dropped into a low, defensive stance. Her violet eyes flitted across the dark chamber, desperate to calculate the entity's movement patterns and locate any potential vulnerability.
'There!'
The creature stepped into the refracting light of the corridor, revealing an almost humanoid anatomy. Its skin was a horrifying mosaic of cracked, slate-grey stone, resembling shattered glass that had been glued back together in a frantic, sloppy rush.
It wore the tattered remnants of fine blue silks, and where its eyes should have been, there were only two hollow, empty voids weeping wisps of dark smoke. Most terrifying of all were its arms — they had mutated, coated in a crystalline layer of intangible, shifting blades that hummed with lethal frequency.
Asteria knew exactly who this was. Gods, she utterly loathed the fact that she recognized him, yet a dark, twisted part of her mind thrilled at the prospect that she could finally fight him, pierce his flesh, and repay him for every ounce of suffering he had inflicted upon her past.
Even if this was the true, corrupted abomination left behind in the real world, and not a mere phantom conjured by a trial.
Valerius.
Her former Master. A Transcendent Saint who had fully understood the intricacies of the human soul and the true nature of a person's self — the very man who had helped build this magnificent kingdom only to engineer its total, catastrophic ruin.
Asteria was now face-to-face with the monster wearing her master's corpse.
With a speed that defied her Ascended senses, the Corrupted Saint launched himself across the corridor. His bladed arms blurred through the air, poised to impale her chest and shatter her fragile cores into kindling.
Asteria moved entirely on instinct, channeling the [Might of Gold] to manifest a heavy, floating barrier of solid gold to intercept the strike. The intangible blades slammed into the shield with a deafening screech of metal on stone. The sheer force of the impact rattled through her bones, sending a spike of agony straight to her weakened soul. She reeled backward, her boots skidding across the blood-slicked crystal floor.
Recognizing that she was completely outmatched in speed and brute strength, Asteria abandoned her defensive posture, her [Sentinel's Heart] throbbing with a mixture of desperate ambition and raw fury.
"He is just a mindless beast now," she whispered to herself, her breath rattling in her throat as she forced her trembling limbs to steady. "A hollow shell. I can do this."
Thankfully, combating a mindless Corrupted abomination was fundamentally different from dueling a conscious Transcendent Saint who possessed the cognitive ability to read her intentions and adapt his strategy. The monster operated purely on instinctual malice.
The creature unleashed a relentless, chaotic barrage of slashes, his bladed arms turning the air into a meat grinder. Asteria was forced into a desperate retreat, using every ounce of her agility just to avoid being dismantled. Her gold shield was chipped away to nothing within seconds, leaving her to parry the heavy strikes with her starlight blade. Each deflection sent a jarring shockwave through her body, tearing at her weakened soul.
Small, superficial cuts began to open across her arms and cheeks, but due to his curse, each minor scratch felt as though her essence was being systematically flayed from her bones.
'Gah! I can barely keep up with his pacing!' she panicked, her lungs burning as she narrowly ducked under a horizontal swipe that sheared a massive chunk of crystal from the wall behind her. 'These small grazes are actively tearing my soul apart. If he lands a single, clean hit to my torso, I'll die.'
She skated backward on her heels, her mind racing as she realized she was rapidly running out of space and energy. She could feel her essence draining at an alarming rate, the penalty from her weakened state compounding her exhaustion. She was being thoroughly outpaced, outmatched, and hunted down like prey. If she tried to fight a conventional battle of attrition, she would be dead within two minutes.
She needed to end it now. She needed a gamble.
[Glass Eyes have successfully located the Corrupted Beast's fatal weakness!]
Instantly, Asteria's vision was forcefully yanked toward a specific point on the monster's anatomy — a pulsing fissure right in the centre of its chest, completely exposed beneath the shredded blue silk. It was a glaring vulnerability, but the creature was moving far too fast for her to strike it safely. It was an impossible window.
Unless she gave him exactly what he wanted.
Instead of raising her blade to parry the next incoming assault, Asteria deliberately dropped her guard. She shifted into an entirely offensive, overextended stance, completely abandoning any semblance of physical defense. She opened her arms wide, leaving her entire torso completely unprotected.
'It takes everything I have just to survive his standard pacing,' she thought, a wild, manic grin breaking through the blood on her lips as she stared into the empty voids of her master's eyes. 'I'm painfully weak. So let's see who breaks first.'
The Corrupted Saint did not hesitate. Seeing the blatant opening, the monster lunged forward with a triumphant, guttural shriek, driving his right bladed arm directly toward her exposed flank.
Asteria did not try to dodge. Instead, she leaned into the strike, twisting her body just enough to ensure the blade missed her spine.
SHING.
The intangible, crystalline blade punched cleanly through her side, tearing through muscle and skin. Asteria let out a strangled scream of pure agony as the weapon bit deep into her torso, the curse multiplying the damage ten-fold, sending her soul into a state of near-fatal shock.
But the gamble had worked. By allowing herself to be impaled, she had effectively anchored the monster in place, stalling his terrifying speed for one critical second.
With a snarl of fury, Asteria used the last remaining reserve of her soul essence to drive the [Sentinel's Heart] forward. The starlight blade flashed through the darkness, thrusting cleanly and accurately into the pulsing fissure in the creature's chest, right where a human heart should have been.
The blade buried itself up to the hilt.
DRIP... DRIP...
For a long, terrifying moment, time seemed to stand still in the dark corridor. Asteria stood locked in a horrific embrace with the monster, her blood pooling in her mouth and dripping rapidly onto the dusty crystal floor below. Her vision began to blur at the edges, a cold numbness spreading from the wound in her side.
'Is this... is this where the story ends?' she thought, panic finally flaring through her fading consciousness. 'Maybe this gamble was an extraordinarily stupid idea... I should have taken it slow... instead of executing a reckless plan that simply sounded far cooler in my head...'
Then, the monster stiffened.
A brilliant, blinding white light began to erupt from the fissure in its chest, spreading through the cracked, slate-grey skin like wildfire. The intangible blades on its arms shattered into harmless dust, and the creature let out one final, agonizing wail before its entire physical structure began to dissolve into shimmering particles.
The heavy weight of the corpse vanished, and Asteria collapsed heavily onto her knees, clutching her bleeding side as the chime of the Spell rang out like a savior in the dark.
[You have successfully slain, Corrupted Beast: Betrayer of Dreams.]
[You have received a memory: Soul of a Betrayer.]
"Oh... thank you, Spell..." Asteria panted, her voice a ragged whisper as she slumped against the wall. "I didn't even need to... use my Aspect to harvest a memory this time... how remarkably generous of you."
She lay there for a long time, her breathing shallow and labored. While the wound wasn't immediately fatal to an Ascended, her natural regenerative capabilities were working at a glacial pace due to her completely exhausted essence reserves. Simply maintaining her physical reinforcement during that final strike had drained her dry.
The Corrupted abomination had been a nightmare of physical power, but its lack of intellect had been its undoing. Asteria was a creature born from the harsh survival metrics of the outskirts; she was someone who recognized a winning gamble when she saw one, even if the stakes involved her own life. She had identified her singular path to victory, and she had executed it without a hint of hesitation.
The survival instincts of a slum dweller would always pay off in the worst imaginable situations.
She desperately needed to heal, and she wanted nothing more than to slip into a deep, uninterrupted slumber. But beneath the profound physical exhaustion, her innate curiosity remained entirely unsatiated.
And as the old adage goes: Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back. With a slow, deliberate movement, she forced her consciousness back into her runes, bypassing the combat data to focus entirely on the brilliant, pulsating lines of her Aspect Legacy.
First Truth: Weaver, Daemon of Fate...
Second Truth: Hope, Daemon of Desire. Claim?
"Claim," Asteria whispered through her teeth, her voice steadying slightly as she demanded her prize.
[You have received a memory: Truth Seeker.]
[You have received Knowledge: Hope's Teachings.]
"Hope's Teachings? What on earth is..."
Asteria's sentence was abruptly cut short as a sudden, cataclysmic force exploded inside her mind.
It was agony. Absolute, agony. A violent, throbbing headache tore through her skull as a massive torrent of foreign data was forcibly slammed into her brain.
Geometric patterns she didn't recognize but instantly comprehended flashed behind her eyes; structural linguistics, ancient configurations, and a lifetime's worth of profound, forbidden knowledge she had only ever dared to daydream about flooded her consciousness all at once.
But all things must eventually reach their threshold.
Just like a circuit overloading under a massive surge of power, Asteria's consciousness completely fractured under the sheer weight of the information. Her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed into the dust of the floor, slipping into total darkness — leaving her broken body to slowly heal itself, entirely alone within the silent Vault of Splendor where she had just slaughtered the ghost of her master.