Shadow Slave:The legacy fallen in a world of nightmares Chapter 53 53: Nightmares

Every ti Samael slept, sothing went wrong.

An Awakened, upon closing their eyes, was ant to cross the veil and enter the Dream Realm.

It was a rule.

A principle.

An inevitability.

But for him, there was sothing in between.

An interval.

A place that should not exist.

He opened his eyes.

Darkness.

Not the absence of light—but its suffocating presence.

And then he noticed.

They were there again.

The three.

If he looked closely, he would recognize their faces.

The three people he had killed.

Or perhaps they were only echoes.

Fragnts of guilt given shape.

"Good evening… I think."

His voice ca out lower than intended.

They did not respond.

They simply stared at him.

Motionless.

Dead.

Silent.

There was sothing profoundly wrong about being watched by those you had killed.

But this ti… it was different.

Footsteps.

Behind him.

Slow.

Calm.

asured.

With each step, the world shifted.

The darkness beneath his feet rippled.

It beca shallow water.

Reflective.

Alive.

As the steps drew closer, they doubled.

Two rhythms.

Two presences.

Samael turned.

And the world completed its transformation.

An impossible sun appeared in the sky—half gold, half silver.

The waters reflected the sa colors.

The horizon was split in two.

Golden light.

Silver light.

He knew this place.

His Sea of Souls.

Before him stood two figures.

One… was himself.

The other was blurred.

Undefined.

Like a flaw in reality.

The only thing clear about it was the scent.

Blood.

Heavy.

Ancient.

"Who are you?" he asked.

The man identical to him answered:

"Samael."

Ethan's mind went blank.

"Impossible."

"I am Samael."

"No." The reply ca instantly. "Right now, you only possess Ethan's mories."

A heavy silence fell.

"You are not Samael."

The words were not spoken in anger.

They were spoken like a diagnosis.

And then Ethan realized sothing disturbing.

He knew everything about Samael's life.

But not as before.

Not as soone who had lived it.

He knew it the way one knows a story told in too much detail.

Disconnected.

Distant.

The other continued:

"Normally, we are synchronized. We form a single personality."

A mixture.

An unstable equilibrium.

But now they were separated.

"What do you want?" Ethan asked cautiously.

"Nothing. I don't know why we're here."

He turned toward the blurred figure.

"Do you?"

The shadow shook its head.

"Who is he?" Ethan insisted.

"I don't know."

Indignation flared quickly.

"You don't know anything!"

Samael's gaze remained empty.

"I feel a connection to him. The sa one I feel toward you. As if he were part of us."

Ethan closed his eyes.

Focused.

Felt.

Three presences.

Three pulses.

Three heartbeats.

From one ca a freezing void.

From another, absence.

Incompleteness.

Essential parts were missing.

The truth beca inevitable.

The three were one.

Silence stretched.

Ethan felt uneasy.

Samael did not.

He only wanted it to end.

He wanted to return to fusion.

To false normalcy.

To the absence of that hollow void that had consud him for fourteen years—a void that disappeared only when he was fused with Ethan.

The blurred figure remained quiet.

Too incomplete to sustain full existence.

"What are we doing here?" Ethan finally asked, breaking the silence. "Any theory?"

He could still feel the stares of the dead behind him.

Guilt had weight.

"I don't know what we're doing here. Or why we're here," Samael replied indifferently.

"I… think I do."

The blurred figure's voice ca out as a nearly inaudible whisper.

"How do I get out of here?" Ethan asked quickly.

"I think we're here because you feel guilty for killing those two."

Silence.

Samael turned toward him.

"Why do you speak so softly?"

"It's… complicated."

"You're the reason for our social problems, aren't you?"

The figure did not respond.

But the silence confird it.

"What do you an?" Ethan asked.

Samael explained, as cold as ever:

"Neither you nor I—even as traumatized as I am—had those difficulties. But when we're together… we do."

He looked at the blur.

"He is the answer."

The atmosphere grew heavier.

As if the Sea of Souls itself pressed against them.

"So how do we leave?" Ethan insisted.

"We'll probably leave naturally. To avoid returning… we need to resolve the guilt."

"Sothing like a funeral? A grave?"

"A grave should be enough," Samael replied without emotion. "A grave should resolve the guilt of you two."

Ethan blinked.

"What do you an 'you two'?"

"He said you feel guilty for two. The last one is on him."

Obvious.

Simple.

Cruel.

Then Samael continued:

"I have a request for you."

For a microsecond—

Ethan would swear—

He saw the other blush.

"What?"

"Make a grave for my parents."

His voice did not falter.

But sothing was there.

An ancient weight.

"Please."

That was Samael's only regret.

He had never done even the bare minimum.

Never honored them.

Never said goodbye.

He had only realized it after seeing Ethan's mories.

The tree.

The improvised grave.

The simple gesture.

Human.

"Why are you asking ?" Ethan asked.

"Because when we are together… you are the dominant personality."

And then—

The world broke.

The golden and silver sun cracked across the sky.

The water split apart.

The three presences began to draw closer.

Fusion.

Or collapse.

Ethan did not know which.

But one thing beca clear.

They were not three.

They never were.

And perhaps…

They had never been whole.