Before Sunny could even process what was happening, he found his back hitting the bed in his makeshift sanctuary within the Bright City cathedral, pushed down by none other than Saint herself.
A jolt of nervous anticipation—heavy and cold as lead—coursed through his veins, acting as though they hadn't just irrevocably crossed the point of no return.
His faithful, lethal companion of countless battles was straddling him on all fours. She was as flawless and bare as a perfect marble statue, her full, heavy breasts swaying gently above him. The warm evidence of their passionate first round still glistened down her smooth, thick thighs.
"Saint?" Sunny breathed, a delicious shiver running down his spine. He instinctively braced himself as she crawled closer, inch by predatory inch.
It seemed the roles had been reversed.
Saint gazed down at him with a bold, wicked smile he had never seen her make before. No words left her lips as she slipped back into her naturally taciturn nature, but that didn't stop her relentless advance. The ruby flames in her eyes flickered with undeniable hunger.
As soon as her marble face aligned perfectly with his, Saint brought her delicate lips crashing down onto his.
"Mmh... mh..."
Saint moaned into his mouth, the wet, heated sounds of their kisses echoing through the quiet room. Sunny felt her body pressing against him, yielding and soft like warm clay. His senses were overwhelmed by the firm peaks of her bare breasts flattening against his chest, and the way their legs tangled together, slick with the mingled fluids of their previous embrace.
Then, Saint pulled back slightly.
"I want more," she whispered, her sweet voice heavy with desire.
Sunny stared at her, wide-eyed, completely caught off guard by this unprecedented boldness from his most loyal shadow. The shy embarrassment that had made her tremble just moments ago was entirely gone. Vanished like ash in the wind. Burned away by the fierce fire of the moment they were sharing.
And fueled by that very flame of emotion, no matter how far they pushed the boundaries, neither of them had any intention of stopping now.
Pushing herself up on her arms, Saint crawled backward down the mattress. Sunny watched as she settled on her knees near the edge of the bed, her face now hovering just inches from his fully erect member. Her cool breath washed over him, sending thrilling electric shocks up his spine and making his shaft twitch visibly.
"Ngh..." Sunny gritted his teeth, forced to choke back a groan of pleasure.
Reaching out with her right hand, Saint delicately wrapped her fingers around his erection. She began to stroke him up and down with firm, deliberate purpose. Her touch was cool yet incredibly soft. As her hand slid rhythmically from base to tip and back again, Sunny felt every sensitive nerve and vein being exquisitely massaged.
Then, without breaking the rhythm of her hand, Saint leaned in. Sunny watched as the head of his erection disappeared past her lips. A new, overwhelming sensation of wet heat and unimaginable softness engulfed him, sending even sharper jolts of ecstasy through his core. He felt her tongue swirling, gently wrapping around his crown.
He clenched his jaw, staring blindly at the ceiling, suffocating in sheer pleasure. Glancing down, he watched Saint trail her tongue upward along the underside of his rigid shaft, lightly suck on the tip, leave a wet kiss on the crown, and then start the agonizingly sweet cycle all over again. All the while, her hand—cool and yielding—never stopped stroking.
Caught in the throes of ecstasy, his mind clouding over from the intense electric shocks of pleasure, their eyes locked—swimming with affection and lust. Breathless, Sunny made a request.
"Saint?"
"Mmh?"
She paused her coordinated assault for a moment, tilting her head to listen. Her hand remained wrapped snugly around his base, her lips hovering mere inches from his tip.
"Can you..." Sunny swallowed hard mid-sentence, staring down, completely entranced by those delicious, heavy white breasts, as soft and pillowy as clouds. "Can you use your breasts?"
Hearing this, Saint blinked. Then, her lips curled into a sly, extremely pleased smirk.
Slowly, she brought her hands beneath her full, heavy breasts, pushing them together to envelop his length. Sunny felt his breath catch, assaulted by pure ecstasy as his highly sensitive, fully erect shaft was squeezed between those luscious mounds of soft, pleasantly warm marble-clay.
Saint began to glide her soft breasts up and down, squeezing him in a rhythmic, repeating motion. Her ruby eyes stayed locked on his hazy, pleasure-drugged gaze, smiling proudly at her own handiwork.
"H-how are you, ngh... so g-good at this if... this is your f-first time?" Sunny stammered out in one breath, his mind sinking deeper and deeper into that suffocating softness.
"Well, I am a [Battle Master], after all," she stated simply, not once halting the undulating motion of her chest.
'Fair enough,' he mused.
After a while, pre-cum began to weep from his tip, acting as a natural lubricant for his erection trapped in Saint's cleavage, slicking her skin. The proud warrior didn't miss it; a sharp, musky scent hit her senses. Lowering her head, Saint brought her mouth back to his crown, taking him in and suckling. The pressure and the pace of her strokes accelerated instantly.
"Ngh..." Sunny choked out another groan, grinding his teeth together as he experienced sheer heaven below the belt.
His mind was going entirely blank. His shaft twitched visibly, trapped delightfully between the suction of Saint's mouth and the soft vice of her breasts.
She didn't slow down. Instead, she worked faster, pressing her elbows inward to tighten the heavenly grip on his shaft while sucking on his tip with far more vigor.
"Sa—" Before he could even finish her name, Sunny shattered.
Hot, viscous white fluid erupted from him, flooding her mouth. Caught in the violent throes of his climax, he instinctively arched his hips upwards, driving his length deeper to hit the back of her throat. Saint didn't gag or pull away. She simply welcomed it all, swallowing every last drop.
"Hah... hah..."
As the intense rush subsided, a brief, fleeting pang of guilt gripped his heart for what he had just done. He threw an arm over his dizzy eyes and forehead, his chest heaving heavily as he fought to catch his breath. Peeking downward, Sunny saw Saint still gently stroking him, squeezing his softening length between her plush breasts to milk out the very last drops of his climax.
Releasing his tip with a soft pop, she looked up to meet his eyes. Before he could utter a single word, she smiled smugly and said:
"Now, for the main course."
Sunny shuddered, bewildered by what was racing through her mind, as Saint released his length from her soft grip and positioned herself directly above his erection, aligning her body with his staff. Her slick vulva, dripping with pleasure and eager to begin, hovered right over his cock.
But before she could sink down, gripped by a burning pang of guilt, Sunny caught her hips, gently pushing her back.
"Wait! Wait!" he gasped, sitting up to face her directly.
Straddling him, Saint tilted her head, clearly perplexed by the sudden pause. Their bare bodies rested opposite each other in an intimacy both surreal and sweet.
"My Lord, is something wrong?" she asked, her voice tinged with doubt. "Did I do something wrong?"
"Wrong? No, no!" Sunny quickly shook his head, holding his hands up to reassure her.
He let out a heavy sigh, bowing his head and letting his arms fall onto the sheets—silent witnesses to the act they were about to indulge in. When he raised his eyes again, Sunny looked into her breathtaking ruby gaze, guilt swelling in his chest. His eyes sinned as they wandered across her exposed, voluptuous curves, sending a sharp jolt straight to his throbbing erection.
Saint sat there composed, her hands resting firmly on her knees. Her trained senses didn't miss his sudden jolt, but even more so, they didn't miss the hesitation lingering in his heart.
An insurmountable wall. A psychological barrier he couldn't seem to cross. It was as if Sunless had built an invisible cage around himself—one she couldn't fully comprehend nor break down, no matter how much she yearned to.
Seeing him struggle for words, Saint gently took his hand in hers, squeezing it with pure, unadulterated affection. "What's wrong?" she asked softly, genuine concern in her voice.
Sunny parted his lips, hesitating. He closed them, swallowed.
And when he finally opened them again, he confessed—his voice heavy with the weight of possibilities that had been robbed of existence.
"You know, Saint?" He met her gaze, eyes swirling with regret, then let out a soft, rueful chuckle, shaking his head. "Of course you don't. After all, when this happened in the previous timeline, you were with another of my incarnations while one of my bodies was busy navigating Ariel's Game alongside Kai and Slayer."
Saint didn't interrupt. She listened in silence, treasuring every single word he uttered.
"In that twisted game," he continued, "besides acquiring the fourth fragment of my lineage—[Flesh Weave]—I was given the chance to ask a question and receive an answer at every turn by sacrificing small figurines on an altar. I was awarded those figurines for every piece of the opponent I eliminated during that turn."
"Is that where you learned how to sever the bond?" Saint chimed in softly.
Sunny nodded. "Yes. And I have to admit, if it weren't for my ancestor, Weaver, helping me from the past, and Cassie masterminding the whole thing behind Nephis's back, I never would have pulled it off."
He averted his gaze, his eyes turning distant for a moment as he recalled how Nephis had later burned the blind seer alive for her betrayal—her icy screams suffocated amidst the ash and white flames.
Sunny had hated Cassie for telling Nephis his True Name and turning him into her slave. Gods knew how much he had hated her for that. And yet, despite everything, he never would have had the heart to inflict upon her what Changing Star ultimately did.
"However... that wasn't the first question I asked."
Sunny met Saint's gaze once more. She tilted her head slightly toward him. A part of the stone warrior's heart yearned for nothing more than to pull him into a tight embrace right then and there. Yet, the crushing weight of his words seemed to push him farther away than ever, even though his warm hand remained firmly anchored in hers.
"When I realized I could ask any question that crossed my mind," he continued, his eyes growing glassy. "The first real question I asked was... what would have happened if, instead of me, Nephis had been the one left behind on the Forgotten Shore."
He raised his hand, curling his fingers as if grasping an invisible object, and tossed it forward, pantomiming the memory. Saint followed the motion in respectful silence, allowing him the space to speak.
"And so, I took the figurine and asked. What I saw wasn't just a reality where Nephis used the [Shadow Bond] to command me to leave her there. I saw the time I spent in the Chained Islands, meeting the White Feather Clan, and the bonds of friendship I forged with Saint Tyris and Master Roan. I saw myself forming my own cohort with Effie, Kai, and Cassie, facing my Second Nightmare together. I saw myself breaking free from my chains in the Third Nightmare, letting the Vile Thieving Bird steal my True Name and fate. I was finally free, though at the ultimate cost of being forgotten. I saw the entire life I could have lived, if... if only Nephis hadn't succumbed to a moment of weakness at the very end. I saw all of that, and so much more."
Sunny paused, taking a ragged breath before continuing.
"Then, at a certain point in that vision, I watched that version of myself make the conscious choice to reclaim his fate. To desire being bound all over again. To be a slave once more. Nephis's slave."
He choked on a sob, aggressively swiping a hand across his face to wipe away a treacherous tear. His breathing grew suddenly heavy, every syllable tearing through his chest like jagged glass.
"Given the chance to peer into infinite possibilities, I started asking other questions. What would have happened if Cassie had never told Nephis my True Name? What if, in the timeline where Nephis didn't betray me, I lost my fate and still chose not to become a slave again? What if Nephis had never become my Master in the first place? I had more coins to toss than I could ever need, and time in abundance, so I just kept asking. In the end, I learned the answer to all of that and much more—far more than I ever wished to know. And ultimately..."
His fists clenched fiercely against his thighs, his teeth grinding together in pure hatred. He squeezed his pitch-black eyes shut; when they snapped open, they blazed with the roaring fire of a long-dormant fury.
His voice rose an octave, cutting through the shadows.
"At the end of every single one of those possibilities... no matter how many times I was betrayed, no matter how much it burned, no matter the sacrifices, the spilled blood, or the agonizing time spent desperately studying a way to escape this cursed bond... I would always choose Nephis over my own freedom."
Those final words, spat with venomous resentment, echoed in the dark room like a death sentence. It was a sick puppet show—one where the hero who defied destiny was nothing more than a marionette dancing on a papier-mâché stage, woven into a much grander tapestry of fate, manipulated by strings far more insidious and cruel than the ones he had severed.
With that, the dams behind his eyes completely shattered. Sunny wept. There, where no one could see him, where no witness could offer a hand or tend to his wounds, entirely alone in the darkness of a death zone—he wept.
"I will always choose... despite everything... to be a slave."
Bitter, hateful tears born of pure despair stained the bedsheets.
Yet, Sunny was not truly alone. Because she was still right there with him. She was always there with him.
As he hunched forward, his tear-filled, listless eyes staring blankly downward, two arms—marble, yet remarkably warm—wrapped around him with fierce affection. Saint pulled Sunny tightly against her chest, engulfing him in an embrace that offered nothing but absolute, unconditional comfort.
He surrendered. Held securely in the arms of his beloved shadow, he let it all out. Every ounce of anger, pain, and regret festering inside his soul poured out of him, purging the poison once and for all.
"That was the final straw," Sunny murmured a while later, sniffing quietly while still buried in her embrace.
"When I reached the end of the game, I used the very last figurine to ask how to permanently sever this fucking chain. And the answer was given to me. So, I made my preparations. Moving through the shadows, while that radiant Nephilim chased her delusional fucking dream—convinced she had me perfectly leashed—I engineered my escape. But that's not why I still harbor so much resentment."
His tone grew dripping with bitter self-loathing. He was clinging to a sweet dream he couldn't bear to let go of, terrified that upon waking, he would find himself stranded on an uncharted path in a lonely, desolate wasteland.
"No," he shook his head slowly, a hollow, almost manic laugh escaping his lips. It was the epilogue of a tragic life that had suddenly revealed itself to be nothing but a cheap comedy. "What I truly cannot forgive—what I can't forgive myself for—is that deep down, a part of me still yearns to build a life with Nephis. To have a family with her. To pretend that this Sword of Damocles isn't dangling right over my neck, ready to drop at any second. But the sword is there! And the thread holding it snapped a long time ago!"
His gaze hollowed out once more, becoming impossibly distant. When he spoke again, his voice was utterly empty, shattered by pure resignation.
"And I, in the end... am always the one left nailed to the cross when the blade finally falls."
Silence descended upon the room once more, heavier and colder than ever before. This, despite the two of them clinging to one another in the dark, their bare bodies sharing profound warmth.
Saint gazed down at Sunny. Her master. The pale, scrawny young boy whom, in the previous timeline, she had watched grow and forge himself into a peerless jade statue. The man she had grown strong alongside, fighting back-to-back, cultivating a profound emotion over the years that she never even knew she was capable of feeling.
Seeing him so broken, so utterly defeated and defenseless... Saint did the only thing that felt right.
Driven purely by emotion rather than cold logic, she leaned in. Sunny felt the gentle, grounding pressure of her soft marble lips pressing against his once again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
To be continued...