Six months later...
A young woman in her early twenties, with raven-black hair and piercing blue eyes, stood quietly before a metallic sleep pod. Inside, slept a pale young man with ink-black hair, his face a portrait of utter serenity. She wore a casual blue jacket paired with black jeans that comfortably hugged the curves of her legs.
Jet kept her right hand pressed flat against the pod's cool glass, tracing the spot directly over the boy's cheek as if she were gently caressing it. Her eyes were heavy with concern.
"Come on, Sunny... it's been half a year already. Where did you end up?"
Her question echoed in the empty room, illuminated only by a dim, buzzing white ceiling light. The only other furnishing was a pair of cheap wooden stools left for visitors.
After a long moment, Jet sighed. She rested her forehead against the glass, letting out a breath she hadn't even realized she was holding.
"You certainly know how to keep a woman waiting, don't you, little devil?" she murmured with a faint, affectionate smile, never taking her eyes off him.
Visiting hours were over. Soul Reaper stepped out of the room, casting one last lingering look at Sunny before letting the heavy metal door click shut behind her.
Stepping into the sterile corridor, she noticed a married couple—a man and a woman who had been visiting their only daughter—exiting a room a few doors down. And from yet another door, a young man stepped out. He had short silver hair, brilliant metallic-gray eyes, and was dressed in an impeccably tailored, formal gray suit.
Seeing him, a fierce surge of anger laced with profound disgust washed over Jet. Her fists instinctively clenched at her sides.
"William," she practically growled.
With sharp, impetuous strides, Jet marched straight toward the prince of the Immortal Flame Clan. It was about time this bastard finally gave her some answers.
Spotting a familiar figure approaching from his right, William turned to face her. He raised a hand and flashed a charming, friendly smile—the kind of smile that countless young maidens would gladly commit unspeakable sins for—ready to greet her.
But the moment he did... CRACK.
William brought a hand up to his face, finding a fresh trickle of blood leaking from his nose. He stared at Soul Reaper in shock. Jet hadn't hesitated for a split second; the moment she was in range, she had wound up and delivered a devastating right hook straight to his jaw.
"Why did you hit me?!" William asked, utterly bewildered by the unprovoked assault.
"You know exactly why," Jet replied, glaring at him with pure venom.
William fished a pristine white handkerchief from the breast pocket of his elegant suit. "Damn, when you act like this, you really remind me of my father," he muttered, dabbing the blood from his nose and deliberately looking away.
Before he could utter another word, Jet grabbed the prince of the great Immortal Flame Clan fiercely by the ear and began dragging him down the corridor.
"Ow! Ow! Juliet, that hurts, let go! Where are you taking me?!"
Without even turning to look at him, Jet kept marching forward, her fierce grip like a vice. "Shut up and move! You owe me some answers, you bastard!"
***
William and Jet sat across from each other at an empty table in the academy cafeteria. William wore an expression of sheer boredom, resting his elbows on the tabletop while absentmindedly massaging his throbbing ear. Jet, on the other hand, sat slouched back against her chair, her arms tightly crossed over her chest and a dangerously dark scowl etched onto her face.
Technically, the cafeteria should have been closed at this hour, which was why they had the entire sprawling room to themselves. But really, who in their right mind would dare deny entry to two renowned Ascended of their caliber? Especially when one of them was the crown prince of a Great Clan.
William stared back at Jet, who looked like she was trying to physically drill a hole through his skull using nothing but her cold glare. His ear was still stinging. Breaking the staring contest, he lowered his metallic-gray eyes to the space between them on the table.
Sitting there were two active Memories. The first was an ornate, antique music box that completely isolated them from any outside eavesdropping. The second was a peculiar little cuckoo clock designed to chime the exact moment a lie was spoken.
"You really don't trust me at all, do you?" he asked with an exaggerated sigh, meeting her gaze once more. "And here I thought that you, me, Kurt, and Morgan had forged a bond of trust back in our Second Nightmare."
"Trust my a**," Jet spat back, her voice like ice.
William shifted his posture, intertwining his fingers on the table. Leaning in slightly, he asked, "So, why exactly did you drag me all the way down here?"
"You know damn well why," Jet hissed, venom dripping from every syllable. "Start talking."
If the raw, murderous edge in her voice wasn't clear enough, it was obvious that this time, the ruthless Soul Reaper wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer.
William arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, allowing a faint smirk to play on his lips. "Talk about what, exactly?"
In a flash of sparks, the curved, lethal blade of a Khopesh appeared in Jet's hand, its cold edge immediately pressing threateningly against his jugular. It was just one of the many forms her Aspect Legacy, the Mist Blade, could assume.
William instantly reconsidered his choice of words. "Okay, okay, message received!" he said, raising both hands in a placating gesture, though his metallic eyes remained unnervingly calm and unbothered.
Jet pulled the Khopesh back, but kept the weapon firmly gripped in her right hand, ready to strike if needed. William casually adjusted his shirt collar—though a single drop of cold sweat betrayed his calm facade—and asked, "What do you want to know first?"
"Everything. Every single detail," Jet glared at him, her blue eyes flashing dangerously. "Who Sunny really is, what the hell is wrong with his shadow, and why, five years ago, you and that man asked me to watch over him. ALL OF IT. Start from the very beginning. And I'm warning you, if you even dare to think about lying to me, I'll know."
Jet genuinely cared about Sunny. Over the past few years, that scrappy kid from the Outskirts who did nothing but pester her and run his damn silver tongue of his had become incredibly dear to her. The strangest part was that he seemed to know almost everything about her—as if he had somehow lived her history—yet she knew practically nothing about him. That was exactly why it was finally time to drag the truth into the light.
William observed her in total silence for a long moment before answering. His gaze, calculating and detached like a cold judge, scrutinized the raw worry hidden just beneath her ferocious glare. To him, her genuine attachment to the boy was a fascinating, entirely unexpected development.
Finally, he opened his mouth and began the story.
"I can tell you what I know," William began with a heavy sigh, tapping his right index finger against the edge of the table. "But keep in mind, even I don't know the complete story."
Jet eyed the prince suspiciously, then shifted her gaze to the cuckoo clock Memory resting between them.
The lie detector Memory remained perfectly silent—no chirping, no vibrating.
Locking eyes with him once more, her fingers drumming restlessly against the hilt of her Khopesh, Jet motioned for him to continue.
"You already know how the heavyweights—my father included—spent years searching for the last lineage, right?" he started.
She nodded, tilting her head slightly. "And?"
William clicked his tongue, his mouth hovering half-open for a second before he gathered his thoughts to resume.
"You see, back in the day, they tried everything to find that damned drop of Ichor," he said, his voice laced with disdain. "Massive expeditions into death zones, deciphering ancient texts, scouring crumbling ruins. Nothing worked. The last lineage seemed utterly beyond reach. Someone even started to think that some incompetent fool had already claimed it and taken it with him to the grave. Eventually, after exhausting every conventional method, they turned to divination."
His index finger continued its rhythmic, frantic tapping against the wood as he spoke.
"Divination? Are you serious?" Jet asked, furrowing her brow in sheer perplexity.
William nodded. "Yes, divination, you heard me. One of Song's adopted daughters—who was only an Awakened at the time—performed a divination ritual. Her mother demanded it at the behest of my father, Broken Sword. I won't pretend the future Sovereigns weren't skeptical about the whole ordeal at the time. But when you're completely out of ideas... well, I'm sure you can agree that even rolling the dice with Fate starts to look appealing."
He let out a brief, cynical laugh, shaking his head slightly to dismiss it before pressing on.
"So, they performed the ritual. And what they got out of it was a prophecy: the final lineage would be found by a boy born during the longest night of the year, when the shadows will devour the sun."
'Sunny.' The name sprang to Jet's mind instinctively. The realization hit her like a physical blow.
Her piercing blue eyes widened. So many things were finally starting to make sense as the scattered dots began to connect.
However, some pieces of the puzzle were still missing.
"Wait, wait, hold on," she interrupted, lowering the Mist Blade and raising both her hands. "Is that why his shadow started moving on its own five years ago? But how the hell is that even possible? He wasn't even a Sleeper back then!"
Jet was ready to bombard him with a dozen more questions, but William simply raised a hand, calmly asking her to let him finish.
"And here we arrive at the heart of the matter," William said, his tone darkening. "This is the root cause behind all the underlying friction and bad blood between the Great Clans. Namely..."
He resumed his frantic tapping against the table, his index finger striking the wood rhythmically like a nervous tic.
"...The day the Dreamspawn joined my parents' cohort. And also... the same one whose Sunless's father was part of."
A heavy silence immediately fell over them. For a brief moment, the air around the two Masters seemed to grow colder, sharper.
"Broken Sword, determined to conquer the Third Nightmare and eventually the Fourth," William continued undeterred, while Jet listened with her arms crossed tightly and her legs crossed beneath the table, "he struck a deal with that monster. Song, Vale, and my father desperately needed his power if they had any hope of surviving the Third Nightmare. In exchange, the Dreamspawn demanded something from each of them. Anvil gave him his firstborn, Mordret. My father gave him me. As for Ki Song... well, I'm not entirely sure what she promised in return, but I'm sure she gave him something."
"And the fourth?" Jet cut in.
"Huh?" William tilted his head, not quite catching her meaning.
"You just said each of them gave something to the Dreamspawn in exchange for his help in the Nightmare. Song, Vale, Broken... that's three. There's still one missing," Jet clarified impatiently.
The prince of the Immortal Flame Clan briefly looked away before answering, his metallic-gray eyes growing distant for a fraction of a second.
"If you recall, I just explained how the future Sovereigns tried to use divination to locate the last lineage. This is where you should start connecting the dots," he said, turning his gaze back to lock onto her deep blue eyes.
A subtle smile played on his lips—the look of a mastermind finally revealing a grand plan.
Except this plan wasn't his.
"A boy born on the longest night of the year—the Winter Solstice. Shadows devouring the sun... an eclipse. Now, who do we know that was born under those exact, peculiar circumstances? You already know who I'm talking about, my dear Juliet. I'm pretty sure his name has already crossed your mind. Go on, say it."
"Sunny," the name slipped involuntarily from the Soul Reaper's lips. William already knew of his existence, yet uttering his name aloud felt to Jet like a grave mistake—almost like a betrayal of someone she held so dear.
William nodded. "What the Dreamspawn truly demanded from the future Sovereigns back when they were all just Masters... was their divine lineages. The four of them realized what he was doing. To avoid giving that monster too much power, and since the lineages inherited by their children were diluted, Anvil and Broken chose to sacrifice their firstborns instead."
Hearing this, Jet felt her knuckles turn white from how tightly she clenched her fists. A violent wave of disgust churned in her stomach. "Are you telling me those bastards sacrificed their own children?" she asked through gritted teeth, looking at the prince with a sudden, rare flick of pity, her harsh tone softening just a little.
William shook his head slightly, a flicker of raw emotion bleeding into his eyes for just a second. "It was Anvil and Broken Sword who sold their children. Song cares too much about her daughters to ever do such a thing, even if they're all adopted. As for Sunless's father... he had never revealed to the others that he was married, let alone that he had become a father. Besides, there was no guarantee that Sunny was actually the boy from the prophecy."
William shrugged before adding, "After all, who could really say? The prophecy mentioned an eclipse on the Winter Solstice, but didn't specify whether it meant right before, right after, or during the exact moment the sun was fully blotted out. And besides, do you have any idea how many baby boys are born every single day?"
"So what did he do?" Jet pressed immediately, unwilling to wait.
The prince sighed, lowering his head. "Quite simply, he kept his mouth shut. Having no certainty that his son was fated to inherit the Shadow lineage, and having never told his companions about his family, he remained silent."
"Let me guess... there's a 'but'," Jet cut in sharply, catching the implications.
Once again, William nodded. "The Dreamspawn possesses the ability to read minds. And from what I know, he can control emotions, too."
"Fuuuck," Jet hissed, a faint shiver creeping down her spine.
"Yeah, that's the real problem," he continued. "That monster read his mind, and despite everything, developed a twisted interest in our little Sunny. After the Fourth Nightmare, he used his powers to turn the other Sovereigns against Sunless's father."
Jet blinked, feeling like she had missed a critical leap in logic. "Are you telling me that bastard managed to turn the other three against Sunny's father just because he kept his family a secret?" She couldn't bring herself to believe it.
"No, that wasn't the reason," William explained. "And don't ask me what the real reason was, because that's where my knowledge ends."
Soul Reaper glanced down at the cuckoo clock Memory. Having verified the truth of the prince's words, she gestured for him to press on.
William tapped his index finger on the table with renewed vigor. "Now, this is where the story gets really interesting. Because the Fifth Sovereign not only expected a knife in the back from the Dreamspawn, but he wasn't caught unprepared, either."
His flawless lips curled upward, flashing Jet a grin brimming with dark amusement.
"The Fifth Sovereign had discovered the Dreamspawn's two-faced nature before anyone else. In fact, he was the very first to realize who the true culprit was behind the sudden disappearance of the leader of the House of Night, Nightwalker. So, he prepared an escape plan in advance. Unable to convince his companions of the truth, he inevitably found himself fighting them. Obviously, he stood absolutely no chance alone against four Sovereigns—especially with my father, Broken Sword, among them. So, he escaped by faking his own death."
William paused for a brief breath before continuing. "During the fight, and even before it, the Dreamspawn tried to corner and subjugate the Fifth using his mind-manipulation abilities. However, he failed. Why? Because Sunless's father also possessed a mind-related Aspect. Only his was far more attuned to memories and, specifically, to oblivion.
Upon returning to the waking world, he had to temporarily sever all ties with his family to ensure they wouldn't be collateral damage, and to guarantee the Dreamspawn would never get his hands on his son. Later on, Song, Vale, and Broken exiled that monster to the moon, using every means necessary to completely erase any possible trace of his name and existence from the world."
William drummed his right index finger against the table a couple of times, averting his gaze for a second as he mentally pieced the timeline together.
"If I'm not mistaken, that all happened sometime after his little sister, Rain, was born."
"Speaking of which," Jet interrupted him once again. "Why did Song end up adopting Rain? Weren't they supposed to, as you said... I don't know, stay out of all this?"
William clicked his tongue. "Yeah, well... you see, Juliet? The point is, the Fifth Sovereign tried to keep his children's existence entirely hidden from the others. But when the Dreamspawn spilled the secret, their cover was blown. As luck would have it—or perhaps I should say bad luck—Sunny's mother died of illness sometime later, which landed both the brother and the little sister in an orphanage.
The boy eventually ran away from that dump, but in the meantime, Rain was found by Ki Song, who adopted her and welcomed her among her daughters. I have to say, that woman has a real savior complex."
The prince of the Immortal Flame Clan shook his head slightly to dismiss a soft chuckle before continuing.
"Meanwhile, Sunless's father formed his own secret organization, hidden from the masses: the Hidden Clan. Exactly a year after the boy escaped the orphanage, his men tracked him down and retrieved him. This allowed his father to raise him under his own watchful eye, far away from the gaze of Valor and Song.
Years later, using his ability to alter and conceal memories, right before entrusting him to your care, he modified the boy's memories. He made him believe he had survived the utter hell of the slums and lived those past years in some random street gang. Well... he surely did put him through some hellish training to make him stronger during that time, and he had to constantly hide him from the public eye, so his life wasn't exactly all sunshine and rainbows either," he concluded.
"That still doesn't explain what the hell happened five years ago with his shadow," Jet pressed, leaning forward. "Which, by the way... after Kurt and I resolved that issue, we teamed up with you and Morgan to challenge the Second Nightmare, and it took us two whole years to return. When we came back, Sunny was missing two years of memories. Which, at this point, I deduce were erased by his father himself."
At this, William finally stopped drumming his index finger against the wood. He draped his left elbow over the back of his chair, his metallic eyes fixing blankly on the table between them.
He opened his mouth. Then closed it, without uttering a single word. When he finally opened it again, his tone was dead serious.
"That has to do with his nature as a Shadowspawn."
Jet tilted her head slightly and blinked. "Shadowspawn?" she asked, genuinely perplexed.
William raised his gaze back to her. "I confess I'm no expert on the matter, but according to ancient texts, a long time ago, the Dream Realm was home to hundreds of intelligent races—vastly different from the mindless, corrupted abominations we face every day. One of those races was the Shadowspawn."
Soul Reaper raised an eyebrow at him, silently pressing him to elaborate.
William raised both hands in a disarming gesture of surrender. "I repeat, I don't know much about it, and honestly, I'm just as perplexed. Then again, the Spell itself defines me as a Nephilim. And my little sister is also a Dreamspawn. The fact remains that, more often than not, I personally feel much closer to that race than to the human one.
That is exactly why, when you dropped the boy off at the Academy gates months ago and called me to give your usual weekly report, telling me his shadow had started moving on its own again... even though I stayed completely silent on the line, I confess I wasn't really that surprised."
The silence that followed his words was absolute. A heavy, suffocating moment that allowed the sheer weight of his words to settle over them.
Soul Reaper Jet reflected seriously on his words while staring at the cuckoo clock on the table. The lie-detector Memory hadn't chirped even once.
She felt her heart tighten in her chest. An ache she didn't know she was capable of feeling for someone else. 'Sunny.'
"Speaking of which," William said suddenly, breaking the quiet. "I know about his guardian. I assume it's the girl."
"What girl?" Jet asked, looking up at him and raising a skeptical eyebrow.
William blinked, assuming it was obvious. "What do you mean, who? I'm talking about his childhood friend. The one who goes by the name Yukino. I know there were other kids in the Hidden Clan he grew up with—children of the various members. I have to admit, though, after her First Nightmare, her appearance changed so drastically I barely recognized her. Frankly, I thought she had kicked the bucket."
Jet narrowed her eyes, even more confused by his words. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"Hm?" This time, it was the prince who looked perplexed.
"Yuki isn't his guardian."
"Then who is?"
Jet crossed her arms again. Stretching her lips into a smug smile and leaving a dramatic pause for effect, she said, "Who do you think? I specifically made him take only his course so he could keep a constant eye on him. Julius."
William's jaw dropped—so hard it practically phased through the table and shattered on the cafeteria's tiled floor. His metallic-gray eyes widened to comical proportions in sheer disbelief.
"J-J-Ju..." he struggled to string the syllables together. "JULIUS?!"
"Yep," Jet nodded.
"No! I don't think I'm making myself clear. Are we actually talking about that man? Ghost Blade Julius?!" William demanded, jabbing his right index finger back onto the table.
"The very same," she confirmed, with the exact same casual tone one might use to read a grocery list.
"The Awakened who slaughtered three Masters entirely on his own... with a pen?!"
"In the flesh."
"The same man rumored to have faced and wiped out seven assassin syndicates in a single night?!"
"I see someone's done his homework."
William stared at the lie-detector Memory just to make sure Jet wasn't bluffing. It was entirely true.
"Hell... my father tried to recruit him for years, and was always rejected with the excuse that he had retired to a quiet life as a teacher to dedicate himself to his research." Saying those words out loud made them sound like a sick joke. "Turns out someone else had just made him a better offer."
William sighed, dropping his forehead until it was mere inches from the table. Then, having moved past the initial shock, he lifted his head, his gaze turning serious once again.
"So... am I free to go now?" he asked. "That was everything I knew. I couldn't tell you anything else. At best, I could offer some hypotheses, but they wouldn't be the truth."
Then, the prince thought about it for a moment and added, "Now that I think about it, his father was right there with him months ago when Sunless faced his First Nightmare, using his will and everything else to help him out. Why didn't you just ask him?"
"I did," Jet replied. "But he dodged my questions, claiming he needed to focus entirely on his son and couldn't spare the attention." She sighed heavily before continuing. "The sad part is that his blessing doesn't even appear on the Spell's attribute screen. Quite fitting for someone who calls himself the Veiled Sovereign. Or at least... that's what we call him."
The Veiled Sovereign's Domain was incredibly peculiar. Not only did his blessing fail to appear among the runes of the Spell—which in itself should have been impossible—but it also granted the ability to perfectly conceal one's presence from enemies, to the point of becoming practically non-existent. It had another effect, too: if anyone within his Domain found themselves in highly stressful situations or paralyzed by fear, deep within them, the blessing would trigger like a warm, steadying hand, lowering their heart rate and soothing their overwhelming emotions.
Apparently, however, according to what the Fifth Sovereign had said, his blessing had been completely severed, and Sunny had vanished from his father's Domain right at the very end of his First Nightmare. Mere moments before his awakening... as if some higher will had stepped in and claimed his existence.
A mystery wrapped inside another mystery.
With that said, the two Ascended had no more words to exchange. Letting the silence take over, Jet and William said their goodbyes and went their separate ways.
Shortly after, Soul Reaper climbed back into her PTV, gripping the steering wheel tightly with both hands. Her grip was much harder than usual.
"Sunny," she murmured his name into the solitude of her vehicle. Her heart felt as heavy as lead, burning inside with the unbearable thought of being powerless in the face of all this.
Especially when it came to being unable to help someone she cared about.
Elsewhere...
"Take me back home, Battista, if you please," William said to his driver as he slipped into the back of his luxurious limousine.
"As you wish, young master," the butler nodded, glancing back at him in the mirror and touching a hand to the brim of his cap before pulling away.
William watched through the tinted glass as they drove past Soul Reaper sitting at the wheel of her PTV, starting her engine. He didn't miss how her hands gripped the wheel with just a bit too much force.
A deeply satisfied smirk painted his lips.
The prince reached a hand into the right pocket of his expensive trousers. What he pulled out was a bizarre, gray metallic prism encased within a square glass display. The object looked like it had been sliced perfectly in half, the two hemispheres separated by a solid black line engraved with Roman numerals, giving the impression of some sort of intricate kitchen timer.
Only, this wasn't an ordinary prism. It was a highly specialized Memory that emitted a specific frequency, explicitly designed to deceive certain types of introspection-based Memories and Abilities.
For example... a cuckoo clock designed to detect lies.
"Oh, Juliet. My sweet, innocent Juliet. So fierce, yet so naive," William murmured to himself.
The Memory vanished from his hands in a shower of white sparks. The prince leaned back against his plush seat, closing his eyes, resting his hands behind his head, and enjoying the rest of the ride in pleasant, victorious silence.
Had he actually told Master Jet the truth? Or were they all lies—or perhaps lies carefully woven with half-truths?
The truth was something only he truly knew.