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The starting is a bit similar to MOW but trust me, this is not a MOW copy. I just had no other way to write the starting in a way that would make sense.
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Pain, so much pain flooded Nephis' body.
Her body was a map of injuries. She couldn't even remember how many injuries she received but, such was a common occurrence in this cruel realm.
In front of her was Sunny, covered in his fair share of blood, grime and wounds. For some reason, her throat swelled up as she fixed her gaze on him. She didn't know how he did it but he too had survived on this ruthless shore.
Looking back, she remembered the cowardly, petty boy he had been — and now he had grown into a fine, strong warrior who could meet her blow for blow.
She was proud of her first student, her protege.
Her gaze softened as she perused her memories, then, she closed her eyes and let out a weak cough. The pain — an old friend of hers had come back to pester her.
Nephis' brightened her flames, burning her essence to shroud herself with her warm flames. Their salvation was only a few steps beside them, their freedom was half a step away and yet none of them moved.
Both of them understood that there was only one way to end the terrible nightmare — crippling the other.
And so Nephis opened her mouth for the first time since the fight began, "Are you ready, Sunny?"
Her voice was cold, to a passerby it would seem that she was a wicked girl who'd sacrifice her friend but her curt voice concealed her hurt, her pain. Nephis would do anything to end the nightmare in a way both of them would survive, she would sacrifice everything.
In a fair world, maybe both of them would be able to escape together.
But this was reality and fairness was an illusion — their fates were cruel — only one of them would be able to escape and as such, she had to face her pupil, her friend and her most trusted confidant in combat.
Sunny looked at her, his onyx eyes seemed to hold no emotion but Nephis knew that wasn't the truth, Sunny was hurting too, just like her — he too did not want to fight her but under the circumstances, he had too.
He opened his mouth, and in the same raspy tone as before muttered slowly. "I'm not… what about you?"
"I am," she answered, but deep down, she knew — she wasn't.
Nephis stepped forward, dashing at Sunny in what might be their last clash. He did the same, his face set in both grimace and determination. She raised her sword, white flame spilling from its edge like a dying star struggling to be born anew.
Sunny's shadow stretched unnaturally beneath him, writhing across the marble balcony as if reluctant to harm his friend.
Their swords met in a deafening clash.
Nephis felt her arms tremble. The collision sent cracks through bone already strained to the brink. Her flames flared brighter in defiance, searing the air between them and Sunny's shadows wrapped around him tighter in resonance.
She pivoted, white fire cascading from her shoulders as she pressed forward in a relentless sequence — thrust, feint, rising slash. Each strike carried enough force to cleave stone. Sunny met them all, in strength she never knew he had.
Their movements were no longer those of teacher and student.
They were equals.
Then, Sunny, in a treacherous move, summoned his shadow.
Nephis' shadow stretched, and a graceful lady clothed in black, glossy stonelike armour with smooth white, alabaster skin stepped out of it. Her obsidian stone blade formed in her hand without a sound, drinking the glow of Nephis' flames. Saint then moved, too fast for her to react at least that's what she hoped Sunny would think.
She reacted quickly, but not fast enough to avoid it completely. The Stone Saint's sword pierced her stomach, her abdomen detonated with agony. Hot blood spilled over the cold stone before being burned away immediately from the sheer intensity of her flames.
Nephis' gaze turned, back onto Sunny's advancing figure. His tachi was striking again — Nephis couldn't react even if she wanted to. The obsidian stone blade pinned her to her place and held her for the insidious odachi to wound her — for a moment she felt proud, realising Sunny's duplicitous plan as he worked in tandem with his shadow to incapacitate her.
Their eyes met and a silent conversation passed between them.
"Why? Why did it have to end this way?"
The world came to a still and in that instance Nephis appreciated the sight in front of her — the black edge of his blade being illuminated by the golden white light of her flames, his beautiful pale porcelain face whose features were obscured by grime and sweat, his perfect armoured body marred with injuries earned from life and death battles where the odds were against him, and at that moment Nephis understood — she loved this man.
And as such, she was ready to sacrifice her life for him, to stay behind in this forgotten shore.
She braced for the debilitating pain that would soon follow… but suddenly her rational brain was overpowered with something humane — the human instinct to avoid pain and unknowingly she called out.
"Stop, Lost from Light."
A single moment, that's all it took.
His body jarred to a still, the tip of his sword mere centimetres away from Nephis' throat. Sunny's eyes grew dark, he willed his body to move but no matter how much he tried he felt his body glued to the ground.
A deep horror drowned his heart, Sunny moved his gaze and looked at Nephis, his eyes wide with shock.
"H… how…"
She had slaved the man she loved.
And for the first time, Nephis broke down.
Tears slipped down her soot-streaked face, vanishing into steam before they could fall. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her flames flickering before being extinguished.
"I'm sorry,"
"I'm sorry,"
"I'M SORRY!"
Neph's lips trembled — not from weakness, but from the weight of the words she spoke.
Sunny's body remained frozen, every muscle locked by the invisible chain of her command. His shadow thrashed violently at his feet, stretching and recoiling like a beast trying to break a leash. Saint stood motionless behind Nephis, her obsidian blade still embedded in Nephis' abdomen, unable to advance or retreat with her master bound.
Sunny's breathing turned ragged.
"Release me," he forced out, fury and panic tangling in his voice. "Nephis… release me."
She shook her head.
"I can't, Sunny… I told you once," she said, her voice breaking despite her effort to steady it. "That I would reach the end of the Nightmare. No matter the cost."
His jaw clenched so hard a thin line of blood traced down from where he bit through his lip. "Don't do this," he rasped.
A faint smile curved her mouth — fragile and weak.
"I already did."
With a final surge of will, she tightened the order binding him.
"You can move only after I've entered through the gateway, you can neither move nor attack me in any way until then."
Nephis forced her trembling body to move. Saint's blade slid free from her abdomen as the shadow dissolved back into Sunny's Soul Sea.
The gateway shimmered only a few paces away — an oval of fractured light which bridged the two vastly different worlds.
Behind her, Sunny strained against the command.
"How?" he demanded hoarsely. "How did you know?"
Nephis slowed.
For a moment, she said nothing. The wind tugged at her ruined armor. Blood traced a thin path down her side. Then she turned her head slightly, just enough for him to see the faint curve of her lips.
"Cassie told me. A year ago she had a vision in which you spoke your true name." She answered coldly, deciding to relieve him of the burden of wondering how.
For a heartbeat, there was only the wind.
Then—
Sunny laughed.
It wasn't bitter. It wasn't broken. It was loud and almost incredulous.
Nephis froze
Of all the reactions she had prepared herself for — rage, despair, hatred — laughter had never been one of them.
"Cassie…" he said between chuckles. "Of course."
His smile grew bitter and his voice was filled with resignation, "Congratulations Nephis."
Nephis almost believed he was happy for her if not for the murderous look in his eyes. "Well? Go on then!" He screamed.
Nephis did not move. For the first time since speaking his True Name, uncertainty crept into her eyes.
His expression shifted, "You win," he said flatly. "Isn't that what you always wanted?"
Nephis' fingers curled weakly at her sides. "It was never about winning."
He barked out a humorless laugh.
"Of course it was."
"You chained me," he continued, his voice shaking with something far deeper than anger. "You used the one thing you knew I loathed — being a slave."
Her breath hitched.
"You talk about sacrifice like it's noble," he said quietly now, dangerously quiet. "But you didn't sacrifice yourself."
His eyes burned.
"You sacrificed me."
Nephis flinched.
"I'm leaving so you can live," she forced out.
"No," Sunny snapped. "You're leaving so you don't have to watch me choose."
The harsh truth hung between them.
"If you hadn't said it," he continued, voice hoarse, "I would have hesitated, but now… go to hell, Nephis. Go to hell and die there, for all I care. I hope that I will never see you again."
A furious gleam appeared in his eyes and Sunny couldn't help but be cruel to her one last time.
"After you kill those people you talked about — Aster, Song, Vale — try and savor that moment, knowing what you did. I don't know why you despise them but I know you aren't any better than them. You're just a hypocrite. So go fuck yourself, Nephis."
Nephis did not answer.
For a long moment, she simply stood there — motionless — as if his words had struck deeper than any blade ever could.
The wind moved through the broken balcony, carrying the scent of blood and ash. Her flames had long since died, leaving only pale smoke curling from her ruined armor. The warmth that had once surrounded her was gone.
She lowered her head.
Perhaps he was right.
Perhaps she had mistaken fear for necessity — convincing herself that there had been no other path. Perhaps she had never truly learned to trust him, never allowed him the dignity of choosing for himself, and instead had seized the one outcome she could control — the one that shielded her from the risk of his decision.
"I…"
Whatever she was going to say was interrupted by a tremor. The Spire would not last longer.
Nephis lifted her head.
There was no more time for doubt. No more time for words.
And with that, she stepped through the gateway — but not before leaving him with a final parting sentence.
"Live—I hope you live, Sunny."
[Congratulations, Sleeper Nephis! Your Nightmare is over.]
…
Three Months Later
The desert was endless.
An ocean of white dunes rolled beneath a merciless sun, each crest identical to the last, each valley filled with heat that shimmered like a living thing. The sky above was pale and vast, empty of clouds
Sunny stood alone at the edge of a dune, his black mantle stood stalwart against the harsh, dry winds. His body was slick with blood and sweat that vanished almost as quickly as it formed.
The sun hung overhead, scorching any will to escape.
His body bore new scars now. wounds. Burns from creatures that spat liquid fire. Jagged tears from chitinous maws that erupted without warning.
Even though he was now a Dormant Demon, the power-up offered no relief.
Another ripple shifted across the white expanse. Sunny did not turn. His shadow had already informed him, sensing the tremor before the sand split apart.
From beneath emerged a colossal, scorpion-like beast, its body plated in layered ivory chitin that reflected the sun. Each segment overlapped seamlessly, forming a dense armour.
Six massive legs punched into the sand, ending in hooked talons built for burrowing. Between them dragged a low, heavy abdomen lined with spines that rattled against one another.
The scorpion lunged.
The sand exploded forward like a mist under it's charge, it's pincers snapped shut where Sunny stood a moment ago. Unbeknownst to it, the treacherous shadow had already slipped to the side.
The serrated claw carved a trench through the dune, spraying sand across the battlefield. It's tail honed in on him the second the creature realised Sunny escaped it's titanous grasp.
Sunny dropped low.
The stinger tore through the space above him and struck the sand behind with a violent hiss. The dune liquefied where the venom touched it.
He surged forward.
His shadows stretched thin, wrapping tight around his body — Sunny's strength surged. The tachi flashed once — a clean, black arc across the creature's raised foreleg.
It's chitin split, spewing it's venomous blood across the desert sand.
The scorpion reared back, it's tail thrashing wildly.
Sunny did not give it space.
He ran along its own armored limb, then drove his blade down between overlapping segments at the base of its crown of eyes.
The sword sank deep.
For a moment, the colossal body stood rigid — then collapsed, crashing into the dunes with a heavy, final thud.
[You have slain an Awakened Devil: Ivory Reaver]
[Your shadow grows stronger.]
Sunny stood over the creature, his sweat stricken face concealed by the fierce mask of the nebulous Daemon.
His gaze remained utterly indifferent, utterly cold, utterly devoid of mercy.
He did not linger.
The corpse was already sinking, sand devouring ivory plates inch by inch. The wind erased the last marks of battle.
Sunny turned and walked.
One step. Then another.
He had no thought, no emotion, no resemblance of sanity. The dunes rose and fell beneath his boots in a monotonous rhythm that drove the chained slave mad.
Survive. Kill. Walk.
Repeat.
Suddenly, his foot caught.
For a fraction of a second he did not react. His body pitched forward, Sunny raised his hands and protected his face as he fell face first.
He hit the sand hard.
Grains scraped across his mask. His palm skidded against something rough and unyielding beneath the surface.
He pushed himself up slowly.
His hand burned.
Skin had split across his palm. A thin stream of blood welled up and ran down his fingers. Sunny glanced back.
Half-buried beneath the dune lay a coffin.
It was not carved from wood.
It was stone — black and smooth, unmarred by time. No sand clung to its surface despite the wind. Its edges were sharp, geometric, almost too precise to belong to this eroded wasteland.
Ancient sigils faintly traced its lid. Ruinic sorcery perhaps.
Sunny stared at it without expression.
He moved to step away.
A drop of blood slid from his hand.
It struck the stone.
And as if reacting to something strange in his blood, the sigils present on the coffin ignited with a fiery glow. A low vibration passed through the air as the lid slid open, mechanically, slowly.
For the first time in months—
The routine broke.