They ran.
What else could they do?
The island was fracturing beneath their feet, shards of earth suspended in the pale void by threads that frayed with every tremor. Fire danced through the air like teor trails, painting the ruined sky with crimson arcs. Behind them, the world collapsed in silence. Just the soundless unraveling of existence.
Sunny didn’t know what he was running toward.
Only that if they stopped, they’d die.
Ever since he’d been infected by the Spell — no, even before that — sothing had always been wrong around him. Things that shouldn’t happen did. Lucky breaks. Brewing chaos. The improbable wove itself around his path like a shadowy chain, neither benevolent nor cruel — only constant.
That was Fate, wasn’t it?
Not so grand destiny, but a mocking coin flip that kept landing on the edge. And now, here he was, surrounded by flastorms from a broken sky, hunted by strings no one else could see, being chased through falling islands.
That was what it ant to be [Fated].
Peace was never an option.
His hand clenched instinctively, tightening around the shaft of his mirror-like spear. He didn’t rember summoning it. He barely rembered breathing. He was too focused on keeping ahead of the destruction, pulling the others behind him. Seele was quiet, teeth gritted. March’s face was pale, stained with ash. Dan Heng, ever unreadable, ran beside him in silence.
’Seele... why her?’
Why was she the target?
What was so important about her that every Nightmare Creature in the region had been turned into a puppet?
And why was he being avoided?
He gritted his teeth, recalling the figure in white. The way it had stood against the flas. It hadn’t dodged them. It just stood there — letting them crash into it’s presence and vanish. Not because it was immune... but because reality refused to let them touch it.
That wasn’t power.
That was sothing else.
Supremacy?
He shook the thought from his mind.
Transcendents were the strongest known humans. Sunny had only t a handful. They were demigods, forces of nature, legends wrapped in human skin.
And yet it made them feel small.
Sunny wasn’t sure what existed beyond Transcendent. Most people didn’t. But if there was sothing higher, sothing not ant to exist within the order of mortals...
Then maybe the figure in white was a Supre.
But even that sounded like an understatent, despite the lacking examples.
’Its like so kind of god...’
***
Above them, high above the shattering firmant, the white figure was still rising.
Climbing past the clouds.
Past the drifting wreckage of floating peaks.
Past even the Ivory Tower in the distance —the unreachable spire.
And the flas followed.
They rose with him like vengeful spirits. They howled, twisted, bent in angles that didn’t belong. It was as though the sky itself was pursuing him, desperate to scorch even a fraction of his being.
Then he stopped.
Far, far above, so high he looked like a pale mote of dust against the backdrop of molten stars, he raised a hand.
There was a pause.
The world began to shatter.
The white radiance that burst from him wasn’t heat. It wasn’t light. It was absence. The reversal of gravity. A pulse of annihilation. Reality bent outward from the center of his being and refused to collapse. It didn’t destroy the flas.
It simply unmade the notion of them.
The fire vanished.
The air followed.
Then, the islands broke.
***
The land beneath Sunny crumbled, the force of that strange pulse reverberating even across even the Sky Below. The ground split under them as the world began to collapse.
They fell.
The group plumted into the void, fragnts of the island collapsing around them in a whirl of screaming air and trailing dust. No one had ti to shout. March tumbled, her bow still in hand. Dan Heng’s coat snapped in the wind as he twisted to catch himself. Seele was upside down. Sunny may have scread.
And above them, the white cot moved.
It was descending.
It didn’t fall. It cut downward, parting the air like a spear cast from the heavens. Its blade, still unsheathed, pulsed with Nihilistic radiance. The blade wasn’t pointed at Sunny, however.
Sunny blinked through the tearing wind.
’Damn it, Seele!’
There was no ti to summon a mory. He couldn’t use the Dark Wing to readjust himself. There wasn’t even ti to think.
The blade had already neared her throat.
And faded away, along with the rest of the white figure. It was like nobody was there in the first place.
Sunny was lost in confusion montarily, before snapping to Seele’s neck. The sword hadn’t even grazed her, and yet, blood was swiftly flowing out as she held her throat in distress.
The re force was enough to fatally injure her.
Sunny clenched his jaw as the Dark Wing began to take shape. Gliding forward, he clumsily grabbed her arm. He quickly looked around to locate March and Dan Heng as he dragged Seele through the air.
He looked down.
Sunny’s eyes widened.
’...Am I dreaming?’
Carved from dark mahogany and bound by tal so ancient it looked organic, the vessel’s hull cut through the void with grace. A young tree had sprouted near the main mast, its branches full of soft green leaves that fluttered in a wind that didn’t exist. The sail above it billowed without effort, like it was sailing the breath of a god.
The bow, once mangled and ripped apart during the last crash, was crudely repaired with mismatched planks. It looked like soone had used whatever wood they could find — so of it painted pink. It was utterly amateur. But it held.
Sohow, it held.
And there, standing on the deck, arms spread wide like she was expecting applause, was Sparkle.
Sunny landed a second later in a rough glide, Seele limp in his arms. He rolled, skidding across the deck with her cradled to his chest, before gasping out:
"She’s injured!"
Sparkle knowingly glanced at the blood around Seele’s neck.
"Oh, I can see that. Such a sha — she has a very nice neckline. But not to worry! I’m very good at improvising."
With an unnecessarily dramatic twirl, Sparkle swiped her hand across Seele’s neck, then her arm. In an instant, the deep gash along her neck vanished — but Seele flinched as another shallow cut appeared across her forearm instead.
Sparkle bead.
"There! Sa pain, slightly more survivable location."
Seele groaned and passed out in Sunny’s arms.
He stared at her, exhausted. Then, he unceremoniously dropped her. She groaned as her head bounced on the wooden planks.
Sunny then stared at Sparkle.
"...What the hell is wrong with you?"
"Oh, darling. You ask that every ti."
She stood and dusted herself off before spinning dramatically toward the two collapsed figures nearby.
She gasped in delight.
"Oh! Are these new friends? Let’s see..."
She crouched beside March first.
"Pink hair. Tragic hair. Stupidly cute. Absolutely brainless in sleep. Maybe even when awake. Yes, you’ll be my fashion rival."
Then she moved to Dan Heng.
"Tall, serious, brooding. Sword user, probably. Definitely not into . How dare he? Oh, well... that’s what you’re for, right, Shadow Boy?"
"No."
Despite the instant rejection, she stood back up, clapping once.
"I am Sparkle! Actress! Surgeon! Criminal! Alchemist! Goddess! Lover! And your new best friend!"
Silence.
Sparkle’s eye twitched.
"How rude. Honestly, it’s like no one appreciates flair anymore."
Sunny wasn’t listening. His head kept swiveling around, not quite convinced that he was safe yet. His gaze lingered on sails, which had Sparkle’s face imprinted on them, his fingers twitching.
He didn’t even blink when, March and Dan Heng, who had been hurt from directly landing on the ship, as well as Seele, who still had a wound on her arm, were dragged away by the Abyss Watchers to be healed.
"Hey..."
Seele gently pulled at his shoulder.
"C’mon. Let them do the dirty work. I’ll patch up your soul."
Sunny blinked. He hadn’t taken any soul damage...
Even so, Sunny didn’t resist when she led him toward the ship’s cabin. His steps were wooden, not from injury, but disbelief. Like if he blinked, the ship would vanish and the fall would start again.
Inside, the scent of spice and honey filled the air, and gentle lanternlight bathed the walls in gold. Sparkle dropped onto a cushioned bench and pulled him along. Sunny opened his mouth to protest — but she beat him to it.
"Shush."
Then she grabbed the back of his head and shoved it forcefully into her bosom.
"I have many talents. Emotional comfort is in my top five. Breasts make great pillows."
"Mmph—!?"
"Oh, don’t be such a prude!"
"This is harassnt—!"
"I’m sure you’ve done worse."
Sunny tried to pull back.
She held him tighter.
Eventually, his resistance weakened. Just enough.
He mumbled against her chest face bright red:
"...Fine. Five minutes."
Sparkle’s grin could have blinded stars.
"And people say you’re not romantic."
’They do?’
He didn’t bother thinking about it.
And for the first ti in hours, Sunny let his eyes close.
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