Lost from Light remembered the first time he had called upon Izanami.
It had happened during his First Nightmare, in a distant past that now felt impossibly far away. In that moment he had been nothing more than a Aspirant — fragile, ignorant, and frightened of the cruel Nightmare that had swallowed him whole. Even then, when his voice had carried no power and his soul had barely begun its long descent into shadow, something from beyond the grave answered his call.
Something had turned its attention toward him from the depths beyond the Spell.
That presence had never truly left him.
And now, within this Nightmare of the Future, it had answered once again.
Yet this time the answer had not been distant or symbolic, nor had it manifested as a faint blessing hidden within the folds of fate. This time the answer had been absolute.
It had come in person.
Lost from Light could feel the will of Shadow God spreading across the desert like an endless ocean of living darkness, its immense body stretching beyond the horizon and swallowing the world beneath a suffocating mantle of shadow. The countless tendrils coiling through the sky were not empty constructs of power; they carried emotion within them, vast and unfathomable, like the lingering memory of an era when gods still walked openly among creation.
Rage burned through that ocean.
Longing drifted beneath it like a deep and silent current.
Wrath followed close behind, coiling through the darkness with the patience of something that had waited far too long to exact its revenge.
And beneath it all lay condemnation.
Every fragment of that immeasurable will was directed toward the same existence.
Entropy.
Perhaps the Shadow God was insulted by the very concept of such a being. Entropy devoured endings, consumed death, and twisted the final silence of shadow into something grotesque and hollow. The very notion of a force that stole death from its rightful keeper might have been an affront too great for the ancient deity to ignore.
Lost from Light could not claim to understand the thoughts of a god.
But he understood something else with perfect clarity.
Shadow God was furious.
Within the immense tendrils that now held him aloft, Lost from Light slowly came to realize why. The god had taken one of his avatars, claiming it as a vessel through which it could manifest within the confines of the Nightmare Spell. That meant it now shared a fragment of his existence, however small that fragment might have been.
Through that connection the truth revealed itself.
The mere thought that Entropy might claim the final end of Lost from Light — that a being of corruption and devouring oblivion might be the one to close the final chapter of one of Shadow's own — had stirred a terrible anger within the ancient deity.
An anger that had compelled it to summon itself forth.
Lost from Light lifted his gaze toward the heavens.
The desert had already vanished beneath the colossal body of shadow. Mountains, dunes, and distant horizons had been erased beneath the endless dominion of darkness that now stretched across the world like the foundation of a new realm.
Within that immeasurable mass, something stirred.
Then the sea of shadows shifted, and the entire expanse of darkness turned upward toward the heavens.
Toward the countless eyes of Entropy watching from within the spreading gardens of Abaddon.
Izanami was staring at its ancient enemy.
When the Shadow God spoke, the sound did not resemble mortal speech. The words carried the oppressive authority of the True Voice, reverberating through the world with the weight of a will so ancient that reality itself seemed reluctant to resist it.
["You hollow remnant of decay… what right do you possess to claim the death of one who belongs to me?"]
The sky trembled as those words spread outward.
Across the heavens, countless everblack blossoms twisted and recoiled as the divine authority of shadow pressed against the spreading dominion of Entropy.
["You who have evaded my grasp for far too long."]
["You who corrupt the shadows of others and parade that corruption as dominion."]
The vast tendrils of darkness surged upward from the desert, piercing through the descending masses of Entropy as the two vast powers pressed against each other with mounting hostility.
["You anger me, Abaddon."]
The pressure within the voice deepened.
["Was slaying Surya not sufficient to satisfy your gluttony?"]
["You devoured the Lord of Light, shattered the heavens of War, and yet you still wander creation like a starving scavenger feeding upon the remnants of dying realms, ever so feeding the Forgotten God."]
The heavens themselves groaned beneath the strain of their confrontation.
["And now you presume to claim the end of one who belongs to me?"]
The force of the True Voice rolled across the desert like the shockwave of a collapsing star, and even Lost from Light felt its weight crash against his existence. Though the Star of divinity within his soul allowed him to endure the authority of that voice, the reverberation of it still caused his body to stagger slightly.
For a moment the world rang with its echo.
Then the Shadow God spoke again.
["Incarnation… regain your voice."]
Something shifted within Lost from Light the instant those words were spoken.
The command alone forced the world to bend, and the damage that countless regressions had inflicted upon his soul began to recede beneath the god's will. The fractures that had accumulated across centuries of death and rebirth slowly closed, while the fog clouding his thoughts retreated just enough for clarity to return.
His mind was not whole.
Yet it was clearer than it had been in a long time.
He still could not remember his name, though the absence of it no longer felt important.
Power stirred within him once more.
The Light dwelling in his soul awakened and spread through his shattered body like the slow rise of dawn, repairing flesh and spirit alike as it intertwined with the shadow that had defined his existence for so long.
Lost from Light moved forward across the vast expanse of tendrils beneath his feet, walking upon the body of the god as though crossing the surface of an endless continent.
The being beneath him was enormous beyond comprehension, its dominion stretching across the entire world until the desert itself had become nothing more than the foundation of the Shadow Realm.
This battle was no longer one of individuals.
Two worlds had become one.
Lost from Light remained a Sacred Titan, yet the power flowing through him from the domain of Shadow God diminished the vast gulf between himself and the being that awaited them in the heavens.
Even so, he could sense the truth clearly.
Shadow God was… diminished.
Manifesting through the vessel of a Sacred Titan forced the ancient deity into a weakened state, for the avatar simply lacked the capacity to contain the true magnitude of its existence. Even the immense ocean of darkness surrounding the world represented only a fragment of the god's true might.
Which meant this battle would still be perilous.
Especially against Abaddon.
Abaddon was an Unholy Titan.
The devourer of Surya. He who devoured the Sun God's Avatar.
Lost from Light steadied himself as the final echoes of the True Voice faded from his mind, then allowed his voice to rise once more.
"…Thank you, Izanami."
The vast presence of the Shadow God regarded him for a moment before speaking again.
["Incarnation… what have you done to your spirit origin?"]
Lost from Light immediately understood the meaning behind the question.
The god was speaking of his soul.
Once it had belonged entirely to shadow.
Now it held something else as well.
Light.
Two divine inheritances had intertwined within a single existence — one born from the Shadow God itself, the other inherited from Surya's Lineage through a forgotten chain of events that had occurred across cycles too distant to remember.
Lost from Light answered calmly.
"I took my master's Light and made it my own, though that moment occurred so many cycles ago that the memory of it has long since faded from my mind."
Shadow God remained silent for several seconds before turning its attention back toward the heavens.
["Very well. Then let us make haste, for I will not last long within this vessel."]
The moment those words faded, the sky convulsed violently.
Abaddon's will intensified.
The power of Entropy descended upon the desert with a ferocity far greater than anything Lost from Light had experienced before, and the reason became immediately clear.
Before this moment, Abaddon had merely been toying with him.
Now it was fighting seriously.
Shadow God was not prey.
It was a genuine threat.
If Lost from Light had been capable of destroying scattered blossoms within the endless gardens of Entropy, then Shadow God possessed the power to annihilate entire gardens at once, even while constrained by the limitations of a Sacred vessel.
Even so, the truth remained sobering.
Surya had faced Abaddon while inhabiting a divine avatar of his own.
And Surya had died.
The next moment, the clash began.
Shadow surged upward from the desert like a rising ocean, colliding with the descending dominion of Entropy as the heavens fractured beneath the pressure of their meeting.
The voice of Shadow God spread across the world like a funeral hymn carried by the wind.
["Come then, Abaddon, you garden of Entropy. Life is merely the prelude to death, and war is the key that opens its gates. Everything that breathes, everything that struggles, everything that dares to begin will one day belong to me, be welcomed by me, swallowed by me, and find its final peace within the endless quiet of shadow."]
Abaddon answered with a scream that tore through the heavens.
And as shadow collided with entropy, Lost from Light felt the horizon itself begin to draw closer.
Above them, the sky vanished beneath the suffocating dominion of True Darkness.
Below them, the desert had already transformed into the endless expanse of the Shadow Realm.
Between those two overwhelming worlds, only a distant white void remained — a silent scar where everything else had already been obliterated.
—
The clash between Shadow and Entropy had already begun to unravel the world itself, and the destruction spreading across the Dream Realm no longer resembled anything that could be measured by mortal comprehension. The desert that had once stretched endlessly beneath the sky had vanished beneath forces far older than the sands or marbles. Reality itself had begun to peel away under the pressure of two divine wills colliding, exposing the deeper framework of existence like the inner mechanisms of some ancient and fragile machine.
The sky had shattered into countless layers.
What had once been a single firmament now resembled a fractured prism of heavens stacked upon one another. Cracks of impossible depth tore through those strata, revealing older skies hidden beneath the visible world. Through those wounds, strange lights drifted like distant galaxies glimpsed through a broken window, and currents of foreign essence seeped upward from realms buried beneath the surface of the Dream Realm.
Below those collapsing heavens, the sands of the Nightmare Desert had long since disappeared.
The Shadow Realm had devoured them entirely.
An immeasurable ocean of darkness stretched across the horizon, its tides rising and folding over themselves as the immense presence of Shadow God moved within it. The god's true body existed across that vast sea of living shadow, the Sacred-Titan vessel serving merely as the fragile axis through which that power could manifest.
Above that ocean, the gardens of Entropy descended.
Abaddon answered the rising tide of shadow with disorder.
Entire constellations of everblack blossoms bloomed across the fractured heavens before collapsing inward under their own unnatural gravity. From those dying stars erupted waves of devouring void that plunged downward toward the world below, where immense pillars of shadow surged upward to intercept them. Each collision unleashed tremors that rippled across the layers of existence themselves, tearing open fresh wounds in the already fractured structure of the Dream Realm.
Reality screamed beneath the strain.
Lost from Light stood upon the immense tendrils forming the god's platform, his balance shifting constantly as the colossal being beneath him moved through the endless sea of darkness. Every motion of the divine entity caused the world to tremble, and each time the god lashed upward against the descending gardens of Entropy, entire layers of the shattered heavens cracked open like glass under pressure.
Through that apocalyptic storm, a voice reached him.
The words did not thunder through the world as the True Voice once had. Shadow God restrained it deliberately, allowing the meaning to reach Lost from Light without destroying the fragile vessel standing upon its body.
["Observe."]
Lost from Light lifted his gaze toward the battlefield unfolding across the broken sky.
At first, the clash appeared to be a simple struggle of overwhelming force.
But the longer he watched, the more something subtle revealed itself within the motion of the god's power.
Shadow God's will was… changing.
The immense tide of darkness rising from the Shadow Realm did not move with the same nature each time it struck the gardens of Entropy. Its shape shifted. Its presence twisted. The conceptual force contained within it bent and adapted with every exchange, altering its nature as though the god were trying on different masks of existence.
One moment the shadows moved with the crushing stillness of heavy jade.
The next they surged with the violent collapse of gravity.
Then they flowed like an endless tide eroding everything in its path.
Lost from Light felt his thoughts slow as realization dawned upon him.
The god's will was mimicking other natures.
A long-forgotten conversation surfaced within his memory.
For every force, there exists another that stands in opposition to it.
He remembered the ancient tyrant's words clearly now. In battles between beings of higher Rank, sheer power alone did not determine victory. The nature of that power held just as much weight, and sometimes far more.
Life collapsed against Death.
Creation faltered against Destruction.
And somewhere within that endless web of opposing forces, the right nature could shatter even the might of a god.
Sunny had once realized something unsettling about the being beneath his feet.
Shadow God was not bound to a single nature.
The god could shadow anything. And thus, it could be the antithesis to anything.
Lost from Light watched as another immense collision erupted across the heavens. Abaddon unleashed a vast surge of Entropy that descended like a collapsing universe, devouring the very structure of the sky as it fell. The sea of shadows answered by twisting upward into a towering mass of darkness whose nature had shifted yet again.
This time the shadows moved with the inevitability of death itself.
The two forces collided.
For a moment, the devouring void faltered.
The immense wave of Entropy shattered apart as the power of death consumed its structure, sending fragments of dissolving darkness scattering across the sky.
Yet the victory lasted only an instant.
The gardens of Entropy reformed almost immediately, their influence spreading across the fractured heavens with relentless inevitability.
Lost from Light felt the grim truth settle within him.
Shadow God was adapting.
But it was not enough.
The Sacred-Titan — Lost from Light's Avatar being puppeteered as a vessel, could only channel a limited portion of the god's true will. Even though the entire Shadow Realm surrounded them, even though the ocean of darkness effectively formed the body of the god itself, the fragile axis through which that power flowed could not guide it with the precision necessary to fully oppose Abaddon.
Entropy surged again.
The devouring presence in the sky expanded like a wound spreading through reality, its influence swallowing entire layers of the Dream Realm as the god struggled to contain it.
The difference between them was impossible to ignore.
Abaddon is Entropy, Disorder, Uncertainty, and Decay. All leading to an inevitable end. The oldest law there is.
All of it born from the will of an Unholy-Titan.
A being whose body is forged to contain the power of something that existed dangerously close to the true nature of the Void.
Shadow God's manifestation, by contrast, relied upon the body of a Sacred-Titan.
Even with the god's immense will bending the Shadow Realm itself into its body, the limitation remained absolute.
Lost from Light exhaled slowly.
The realization settled like lead in his chest.
Shadow God was losing.
The voice reached him again.
["Observe carefully."]
Another surge of shadow erupted upward as the god adapted its will once more, shaping the nature of its power into yet another conceptual form to clash against the endless tide of Entropy.
["When the moment arrives… release your power."]
Lost from Light frowned slightly.
His gaze drifted inward toward the structure of his own soul.
'Silver-Sky Weave.'
The strange technique that bound shadow, light, tangible divinity, and even true darkness. All alongside the silent depths of the Black Skies into a single structure had always been difficult to fully comprehend. Even now, fragments of its nature eluded him.
The original Sunless must have spent years refining it across countless regressions.
Shadow God's attention shifted toward him then.
The immense presence brushed against his soul, examining the strange tapestry of powers woven within it.
Seconds passed.
Then the god spoke again.
["…You are not of my lineage."]
Lost from Light felt a ripple of tension run through him.
The vast awareness lingered upon the strange foundation of his soul.
When the god spoke again, its voice carried a quiet note of recognition.
["…Weaver."]
For an instant, Lost from Light wondered if the shadows beneath his feet might swallow him whole.
The Daemons and the Gods had once waged a war that had literally reshaped existence itself.
And the being beneath him was the god of death.
Several seconds passed while the battlefield above them continued to collapse under the endless clash between shadow and entropy.
Then Shadow God spoke again.
["…It is no matter."]
Another devastating collision erupted across the sky.
The tendrils supporting Lost from Light shifted slightly as the god forced the shadows upward once more, holding back another wave of Entropy threatening to swallow the world.
["This vessel will fail soon regardless."]
Lost from Light blinked.
Before he could respond, the sea of shadows beneath him began to move.
A massive current of darkness surged upward from the ocean surrounding them, condensing slowly into a dense sphere of living shadow that hovered directly before him. Within that sphere pulsed an immense concentration of divine essence, its presence carrying a gravity that seemed capable of crushing the soul itself.
Lost from Light immediately understood what he was looking at.
Divine blood.
Shadow God's voice reached him again, quieter this time as the god continued to battle Abaddon across the shattered heavens.
["Take it."]
Lost from Light stared at the sphere.
The divine essence within it pulsed slowly, radiating the unmistakable authority of a god's lineage.
Even without touching it, he could feel the enormity of the power contained within that mass of shadow.
Shadow God continued.
["You should have possessed it from the beginning. How peculiar, that you somehow attained the forbidden lineage in it's stead."]
Another violent tremor rippled through the Dream Realm as the god intercepted yet another surge of Entropy.
Lost from Light remained silent.
Then he stepped forward.
The moment his hand approached the sphere, the pressure within it intensified sharply. Even a Sacred Titan's body trembled under the weight of the power contained inside.
This was not a dormant inheritance waiting to be claimed.
It was a fragment of a god's true essence.
And it had been drawn directly from the body of Shadow God itself.
Lost from Light inhaled slowly.
Then he reached forward and grasped the sphere.
Agony erupted through his body immediately.
The divine power within the lineage surged violently into his soul, colliding with the strange tapestry already woven there.
Taking the lineage directly from the main body of a god was proving to be exactly what he had expected.
Hell.
Fortunately for him…
Pain was something he had grown quite familiar with.
—
Lost from Light was drowning in blood.
The sensation filled every corner of his awareness, so very suffocating, as though the boundaries of his own body had dissolved and left him suspended inside a vast crimson tide. Divine essence surged through the intricate channels of his veins with unstoppable force, each heartbeat sending another violent wave crashing through the fragile lattice of flesh and soul that held him together. The power carried the weight of something great and immeasurably vast. Every pulse rang with the quiet, crushing authority of a god's lineage.
Blood Weave reacted the instant the foreign blood entered him.
Deep within Lost from Light's body, the ancient network of living threads stirred in indignation. They tightened instinctively, twisting and coiling through muscle, bone, and marrow as they sensed the divine blood flooding the pathways they occupied. Blood Weave naturally had the ability to purify any foreign substances in the body, and a God's blood was no different. Anything that entered the system would be broken down, unraveled, and erased entirely.
Now that blood awakened in full.
The threads within his blood strained toward the lineage pouring through his veins like starving predators scenting prey after centuries of famine. Their movements were almost eager, tightening around the divine essence with the silent promise of consumption.
Lost from Light felt the danger.
He realized it with brutal clarity while another wave of burning blood tore through his body. If Blood Weave devoured the lineage of the Shadow God in this moment, the consequences would spiral far beyond his control. The weave had always consumed foreign powers without hesitation, shredding them apart before grounding them away.
That brutal function had saved his life more than once.
Yet the lineage of a god had not been given to him by accident.
Shadow God had passed it into his veins deliberately, allowing the divine blood to flow freely rather than forcing it upon him through a mere memory. The meaning behind that act remained unclear, yet one truth stood firm inside Lost from Light's mind.
The lineage had to settle. It had been given to him for a reason, and he would not waste it.
If Blood Weave devoured it prematurely, the fragile balance holding his power together might shatter completely. He was already unstable as is.
Lost from Light clenched his teeth as another pulse of burning blood tore through his chest.
Then he forced his will to act.
His will plunged deep into the internal labyrinth where Blood Weave lived, focusing on the countless threads stretching throughout his body like an intricate living tapestry. They writhed beneath his attention, tightening and flexing as they attempted to constrict around the divine blood flooding their domain.
The attribute resisted him swiftly.
Its nature rejected restraint. The threads pushed relentlessly toward consumption, tightening with every passing moment as the divine blood continued to surge through the pathways of his body.
Lost from Light forced the command even further.
Years of experience steadied his mind despite the agony raging through him. He had spent an uncountable number of regressions learning how to shape Blood Weave into something more than an uncontrollable guard for his body. It had begun as a weapon that devoured everything indiscriminately. Through relentless effort and brutal trial, he had transformed it into something that could be directed, restrained, and molded into far more complex forms.
That discipline became the only thing standing between survival and catastrophe now.
Slowly, painfully, Lost from Light pushed his will through the trembling threads.
The command carried no words. Instead, it pulsed through the structure of the weave as a single undeniable instruction.
Do not devour. Do not devour. Do not devour.
The threads resisted.
They trembled violently, tightening once more as the divine blood continued to surge past them in brilliant, scorching waves. Instinct screamed for them to seize it. To unravel it. To break it apart and claim the power hidden inside the lineage.
Lost from Light forced the command again.
The pressure inside his mind grew sharper, his control tightening around the living network until every strand quivered beneath the weight of his will.
Do not devour. Do not devour. Do not devour.
Coexist. Mend. Balance.
The threads shuddered.
Then, gradually, their grip loosened.
They did not retreat entirely. Blood Weave remained what it had always been, a attribute built for assimilation. However, under Lost from Light's relentless control, the threads shifted their behavior. They loosened their hold just enough to allow the divine blood to flow freely through the system without being torn apart.
The balance remained fragile.
Yet it held.
Lost from Light collapsed backward onto the vast ocean of shadows beneath him as another wave of agony tore through his nervous system. The darkness shifted like liquid beneath his body, swallowing his weight while the world around him dissolved into a haze of distorted sensation.
Pain erupted everywhere.
Every fiber of his body seemed to unravel and rebuild itself simultaneously as the divine lineage carved deeper pathways into the structure of his existence. Muscles twisted and reformed beneath his skin. Bones cracked with quiet, internal fractures before knitting themselves together again with each thunderous beat of his heart.
His body felt as though it had been placed inside a furnace designed for the forging of gods.
Yet the worst agony gathered behind his eyes.
Two points of searing heat burned within his skull, growing brighter with every pulse of divine blood racing through his veins. The sensation resembled white-hot metal driven straight through his skull, the heat spreading outward until it drowned every other feeling beneath its merciless intensity.
Perhaps his eyes themselves had begun to melt.
The thought passed dimly through his mind before dissolving beneath the relentless tide of pain.
Still, Lost from Light endured.
Blood Weave trembled throughout his body while the ancient threads strained against the command restraining them. At the same time, Shadow God's lineage advanced steadily through the labyrinth of his flesh, its power forcing open pathways that had never existed before.
The two forces pushed against one another, neither willing to retreat entirely.
Within that unstable clash, something else began to stir.
Lost from Light felt it faintly.
A presence…
It emerged slowly from the depths of the lineage itself, resonating like a distant echo hidden within the divine blood. The sensation remained subtle, almost indistinct, yet its existence sent quiet ripples through Lost from Light's mind as the lineage settled deeper into the foundation of his soul.
He could not understand it yet.
The shape of the presence remained unclear, like a nearly forgotten memory lingering just beyond the edge of comprehension.
Still, it was there.
Lost from Light clenched his teeth harder while another surge of agony passed through his body.
Far above him, the colossal form of Shadow God continued its impossible battle against the devouring abyss of Entropy. The clash between those primordial forces shook the very fabric of the Shadow Realm, sending waves of unstable power rippling through the endless sea of darkness.
Compared to that war, the torment inside his body felt almost insignificant.
Lost from Light had endured worse.
He had survived the implantation of multiple Weaves, each one threatening to tear his mind apart from within. He had stood before the vast machinery of Fate itself, staring directly into its impossible structure while the weight of its design threatened to crush his mind.
Those experiences had reshaped the limits of what he could endure.
The agony tearing through him now remained terrible, yet it no longer possessed the power to break him.
Time drifted past in strange, fragmented stretches.
Moments blurred together while Lost from Light lay motionless upon the endless sea of shadows, his body trembling beneath the relentless pressure of the divine blood settling into place.
Gradually, however, the storm began to weaken.
The burning tide flowing through his veins slowed as the lineage finally reached the deepest layers of his soul. Blood Weave's violent resistance faded little by little while Lost from Light's will continued to hold the ancient threads in careful restraint.
Eventually, the conflict between the two powers reached a fragile equilibrium.
The agony receded.
Its intensity faded until the unbearable pressure crushing his body softened into a dull echo.
Then it disappeared entirely.
Lost from Light remained where he had fallen, his body resting against the shifting ocean of darkness beneath him while his chest rose and fell in uneven breaths. The shadows moved gently around him, carrying his weight like a quiet, living tide while he struggled to steady his thoughts.
Each inhale scraped against his throat like shards of broken glass.
Yet slowly, his breathing began to calm.
Silence settled across the battlefield for a fleeting moment.
Then the familiar whisper of the Spell emerged within his mind.
[You have acquired a new Attribute.]
[You have received Shadow God's Blessing!]
Lost from Light barely had time to process the words.
A crushing pressure suddenly descended upon him.
Far above the fractured heavens, Entropy seized a fleeting weakness in Shadow God's defense. The vast presence of Abaddon surged forward with catastrophic force, unleashing another storm of devouring darkness and nothingness that cascaded across the battlefield like the collapse of an entire universe.
Lost from Light forced himself upright despite the lingering weakness in his body.
Even through the chaos raging above, he felt the change within him clearly.
Shadow God's lineage flowed through his veins now, and unlike others, he inherited it in full.
Yet something far greater had awakened alongside it.
Lost from Light raised his hand slowly.
The shadows beneath his fingers stirred.
Within the darkness, tiny motes of pale light flickered into existence, drifting upward through the air like distant stars emerging across an endless night sky.
Lost from Light stared at them.
Recognition came swiftly.
Soul Essence.
Within the Shadow Realm, the shadows of the dead eventually dissolved into raw essence, feeding the endless ocean of the storms that formed the domain of the god's sky.
Now that same phenomenon unfolded in response to his presence.
The shadows beneath his hand continued to shimmer softly while fragments of essence gathered there, drawn toward him by mere instinct.
Lost from Light inhaled slowly.
Shadow God's Blessing had opened the deepest mechanisms of the realm itself.
And as that realization settled into his thoughts, another subtle shift unfolded within his soul.
For as long as he could remember, something inside him had felt incomplete. Weaver's lineage had reshaped his existence in profound ways, granting him powers that defied the limits of ordinary beings.
Even so, a quiet absence had always lingered somewhere within the foundation of his soul.
Now that emptiness had vanished.
The blood of the god who had created Death flowed through him.
A quiet calm spread through Lost from Light's mind.
It carried a strange serenity, one that settled naturally into the depths of his being while the shadows around him responded instantly to the transformation.
They felt closer. They were kin before, but perhaps now they were true family in blood.
Their connection to him deepened in a way he had never experienced before, as though the darkness itself had finally recognized him completely.
Lost from Light flexed his fingers slowly while the pale motes of Soul Essence drifted through the air around his hand.
A thought surfaced quietly within his mind.
Perhaps this would be enough.
There was only one way to know.
Lost from Light rose to his feet.
Soul Serpent manifested instantly within his grasp, the dark Odachi coiling along his arm before settling comfortably in his hand. At the same time, three immense wings of Shadow, Gold, and Light unfolded from his back, their vast span slicing through the turbulent winds raging across the battlefield.
Then Lost from Light leapt into the sky.
Above him, enormous storms of Soul Essence churned violently throughout the Shadow Realm, drawn into existence by the endless destruction unleashed during the clash between Shadow God and Abaddon.
Lost from Light rose toward them.
If the tide of this hopeless battle could still be turned, then the answer waited within those swirling storms of essence.
And at last, he would discover what Silver-Sky Weave — the original Sunless's creation, could truly become.
—
The heavens of the Shadow Realm churned like a wounded cosmos.
Great spirals of annihilation and primordial darkness twisted together far above the endless sea of shadows, their violent collision tearing apart the structure of reality itself. Each clash between Shadow God and the devouring presence of Entropy sent fractures rippling through the sky, as though the firmament had become a pane of glass slowly collapsing beneath unbearable pressure.
The will of Entropy descended again and again in an endless tide.
Wherever its presence spread, structure dissolved into madness. Light warped. Space unraveled. Even the ancient currents of shadow that filled the divine realm trembled beneath that dreadful authority.
Yet Shadow endured.
The vast figure of the god stood within the storm like an eternal monument carved from the very concept of darkness itself. His colossal form moved with the slow, terrible inevitability of death, each gesture shaping tides of shadow that rose to meet the devouring abyss.
For a fleeting moment, however, the ancient deity's attention shifted.
Because something new had entered the battlefield.
A presence rose from the ocean of shadows below.
At first it resembled a solitary spark emerging from an endless night. Yet that spark grew with startling speed, expanding into a blazing constellation of power as it ascended toward the heavens.
The sea of shadows trembled beneath its passing.
Lost from Light rose into the sky.
His transformation had not ended with the acceptance of Shadow God's lineage. The divine blood flowing through his veins may have deepened his connection to the Shadows, but it was the blessing that awakened something greater.
And of course, he was a Sacred-Titan.
The immense wings of shadow spread behind him, their vast span cutting through the violent currents of the battlefield as he surged upward. Each beat of those wings sent waves of darkness rolling outward like storm tides, scattering fragments of unstable reality in their wake.
Yet the most terrifying change lay elsewhere.
Within his soul.
Silver Sky Weave had truly awakened.
At first, the phenomenon appeared subtle.
Tiny motes of pale light began to gather around Lost from Light's body as he ascended, drifting upward from the countless shattered souls dissolving across the battlefield. The clash between Shadow God and Entropy had already consumed vast swathes of existence, leaving behind storms of dissolving essence that churned throughout the realm like luminous dust.
Lost from Light reached toward that storm.
And the storm reached back.
The Silver Sky Weave within him stirred.
An intricate network of invisible threads stretched outward from the depths of his soul, reaching into the vast ocean of Soul Essence surrounding him. Those threads moved with swiftly, weaving through the drifting fragments of power and gathering them together as though the cosmos itself had become raw material for some unimaginable tapestry.
The phenomenon grew rapidly.
Soul Essence began to spiral toward him.
At first the fragments resembled faint sparks.
Then they became streams.
Then rivers.
And finally an enormous celestial current began to converge around Lost from Light's rising figure, forming a luminous vortex that followed him into the heavens like a newborn galaxy awakening from slumber.
Lost from Light felt the pressure nearly crush him. He was not made to carry Soul Essence, but instead Shadow Essence. And so, the sheer magnitude of essence pouring into the weave threatened to tear his soul apart.
Yet he endured.
Because there was something else within those threads.
Will.
And not merely his own.
The Will of Disaster surged through the gathered essence, a relentless hunger for renewal that echoed from the countless calamities he had been forced to endure.
The Will of Passion burned within the weave as well, a blazing determination that refused to yield even before impossible odds.
The Will of Guidance flowed quietly beneath the others, a steady current that directed the vast chaos of gathered power toward a singular purpose.
And deeper still…
The Will of the Stars.
That authority moved through the Silver Sky Weave like the quiet gravity of distant constellations. Though Lost from Light had not fully understood the origin of this power before, its nature now revealed itself with frightening clarity.
Silver Sky Weave was never merely a technique.
It was a fragment of something far greater.
A shadowed imitation of the primordial authority that embodied the Black Skies.
And slowly…
That imitation had begun to become real.
Lost from Light felt his grip tighten around Soul Serpent.
The dark weapon trembled in response, its serpentine steel coiling around his arm as the immense flow of gathered Soul Essence poured into its structure.
The blade's aura extended.
Ten meters.
Twenty.
Then fifty.
A colossal edge of condensed shadow and luminous essence erupted from the weapon, its immense length slicing through the unstable sky like a falling star.
The power surged wildly.
Even with his Sacred-Titan body, Lost from Light could feel the strain spreading through every fiber of his existence. Bones groaned beneath the pressure. The weave within his soul stretched to its limits as the gathered essence continued to accumulate without restraint.
The sensation resembled gripping the heart of a collapsing star.
Yet Lost from Light held on.
Though a flicker of uncertainty crept into his thoughts as he gazed toward the monstrous presence looming above the battlefield.
Entropy's vast form dwarfed even the titanic body of Shadow God.
A living abyss.
A devouring catastrophe.
An ancient law that governed all that is, and all that can be.
For a brief moment, an unexpected thought surfaced within Lost from Light's mind.
'Can I truly kill something like that?'
The question lingered only for a moment before another realization emerged.
His mind drifted toward a different possibility.
The original Sunless.
The one who must have survived Abaddon's descent, and eventually went on to create [Regressor].
If this power belonged to him once…
If Silver Sky Weave had truly been born alongside the authority of the Storm God…
Then perhaps that man had already stood at a height far beyond what Lost from Light could currently imagine.
A quiet understanding settled over him.
He must have been capable of such a feat. The nature of this power was far too vast.
Perhaps the original Sunless had reached the existence of a Divine-Titan himself.
Perhaps he had even lived long enough to confront the Forgotten God.
Who could say?
The past remained buried beneath too many broken threads of fate.
Yet one truth remained undeniable.
This power had been created to stand beside the gods. This power had been created to slay Entropy.
And now it flowed through Lost from Light's veins.
Above him, the colossal figure of Shadow God paused.
The ancient deity observed the ascending Sacred-Titan for a brief moment, his vast presence radiating a quiet, unreadable stillness.
Darkness gathered around him like an endless ocean.
Then the god spoke.
His voice echoed across the battlefield with the weight of ancient death.
["Once, there was a child who entered my realm."]
The violent sky trembled as those words spread outward like ripples through reality.
["She had died young, her body broken by the cruelty of the world. When she arrived in my embrace, I offered her rest."]
The god's vast gaze remained fixed upon Lost from Light as he spoke.
["I told her that her suffering had ended. That she could remain within the quiet of my shadows, untouched by pain and sorrow."]
A slow pause followed.
["But the child refused."]
Entropy roared above them as the battle resumed, yet Shadow God continued speaking as though the storm itself were merely background noise.
["She spoke of oceans and skies, of flowers and sunlight. She wished to return to the world that had destroyed her."]
The darkness surrounding the god stirred.
["I warned her that the oceans were cold. That flowers carried thorns. That life would bring her only suffering."]
Another pause.
["And yet… she laughed."]
Something distant moved through the god's voice.
["A foolish child."]
The colossal presence of Shadow shifted slightly as the clash with Entropy resumed.
["She shattered the walls of my realm and escaped into the light."]
His voice lowered into something Lost from Light couldn't decipher.
["That was how the first soul escaped death."]
The battlefield fell momentarily quiet beneath the weight of those words.
Then Shadow God spoke once more.
["I am Shadow."]
The declaration spread through the heavens.
["I am the one who created death."]
Above them, Entropy roared as it hurled another storm of annihilation toward the battlefield.
Shadow God lifted one vast hand.
["And when the end finally arrives…"]
Darkness gathered in his palm.
["…death will embrace all."]
Lost from Light inhaled slowly. Hearing those words spoken into being strengthen his already unbelievable power further.
Then he moved at once.
The immense wings of shadow beat once, propelling his Sacred-Titan form forward like a falling star.
The Silver Sky Weave woke.
Soul Essence gathered into the colossal blade in his hand, forming a blazing arc of power that stretched across the sky.
This strike carried more than raw force.
It carried will.
The Will of Disaster.
The Will of Passion.
The Will of Guidance.
And the crashing authority of the stars themselves.
Shadow God moved at the same moment.
The ancient deity's immense arm descended toward Entropy like the closing hand of oblivion.
Two powers converged.
Divine darkness.
And a blade forged from the souls of the dead.
Lost from Light swung.
The heavens split apart.
What followed, however, did not resemble a single clean wound across the sky. Instead, the strike unfolded like the tearing of a great tapestry, the immense blade of Silver Sky Weave dragging through the firmament with such force that entire layers of reality peeled away in its wake. The gathered Soul Essence within the strike howled as it traveled, thousands upon thousands of pale motes collapsing together into a violent current that carved a luminous scar through the vast Garden of Entropy.
That dreadful garden had spread across the battlefield like a diseased continent, its roots digging into the very laws of existence while grotesque blossoms of unraveling matter swayed upon branches made from causality. Each bloom represented a piece of devoured order, each tendril an infection of collapsing structure. It had grown immense during the battle, swelling outward as Entropy devoured the stability of the realm.
Yet when Lost from Light's blade descended, the garden suffered.
The enormous arc of gathered essence cut through it with devastating precision, its edge slicing apart tangled groves of corrupted existence while Shadow God's crushing darkness followed immediately behind. The two forces moved together with uncanny synchronization, the god's vast hand sweeping forward while the Sacred-Titan's blade fell like the judgment of the heavens.
Entire forests of disorder experienced true oblivion.
Where the strike passed, impossible flora collapsed into dissolving storms of essence. Great clusters of warped branches shattered into luminous dust while rivers of collapsing matter poured away from the wound. Though the Garden attempted to regrow itself instantly, the combined authority of death and starlit destruction burned away entire regions of its grotesque landscape before regeneration could occur.
For the briefest moment, the Profaned God recoiled.
An entire eighth of its manifested body collapsed under that assault, enormous segments of the Garden crumbling as if some unseen hand had torn them free from existence itself.
They had wounded it.
The realization passed through Lost from Light's mind with disbelief. Though Entropy remained vast beyond comprehension, its presence still towered above the battlefield like a devouring cosmos, that strike had undeniably carved a piece from its monstrous form.
However, the retaliation came instantly.
Entropy did not roar in rage, nor did it lash out with any visible weapon. Instead, the Profaned God unleashed something far more dreadful.
Its will descended in full.
The complete authority of Disorder crashed upon Lost from Light like the collapse of a universe whose laws had turned against themselves. Within a single heartbeat, the Sacred-Titan felt reality twist around him as though the structure of existence had become a hostile entity determined to dismantle his body piece by piece.
His wings reacted first.
The immense constructs of shadow that had carried him through the heavens spasmed violently, their vast forms flickering as if lightning had begun racing through their structure. Fractures of pale brilliance erupted across the wings, each flash tearing away segments of divine darkness until entire sections shattered into drifting fragments of unstable light.
Yet the damage did not end there.
Lost from Light's body itself rebelled.
Muscles locked in violent spasms while nerves screamed with contradictory signals, every command he attempted to send through his limbs dissolving into meaningless chaos before reaching its destination. The Will of Disorder seeped into his very bones, rewriting the instructions of motion until even the simple act of breathing became a struggle against the collapse of physical logic.
He felt control slipping away.
Even the Silver Sky Weave trembled within his soul, the intricate lattice of threads vibrating wildly as the gathered essence threatened to unravel beneath the weight of Entropy's authority.
For one terrifying instant, Lost from Light sensed the end approaching.
Entropy's will pressed closer and closer, the immense presence of the Profaned God bearing down upon him like a collapsing horizon. If that power fully enveloped him, if Disorder succeeded in dismantling the delicate structure of his existence, then the Sacred-Titan would simply cease.
However, another presence intervened.
Shadow surged outward.
The vast figure of the ancient god moved with slow, terrible certainty, his colossal form shifting across the battlefield until an ocean of primordial darkness rose between Lost from Light and the descending authority of Entropy. Though the Profaned God's will remained immense, it encountered something immovable within that darkness.
The rejection of Death. After all, the God of Death could also take death away.
The realization passed through Lost from Light's fading awareness like a whisper.
Entropy unturned creation.
Yet death waited beyond all.
Shadow God endured because he also represented the final boundary of existence, the inevitable conclusion awaiting every collapsing realm. Though Entropy — and in turn Disorder, which sought to dismantle all structure and reduce everything into chaotic fragments — the end did not completely belong to it. Not as long as Shadow God existed.
And so the God of Death resisted.
Though the pressure remained immense, the crushing will of Entropy faltered slightly as Shadow God absorbed the worst of its force.
Lost from Light's senses returned slowly.
His damaged wings struggled to maintain their shape, fragments of shadow slowly reforming around the broken edges while pale sparks of dissipating light drifted away into the void.
Yet when his gaze shifted toward the towering form of Shadow God, a grim understanding settled within him.
The god had taken damage as well.
Great fissures of destabilized darkness stretched across the immense body of the deity, sections of divine will eroded by the relentless assault of Entropy. Though Shadow still stood unbowed, the battle had clearly begun to drain even such a primordial being.
They could not continue like this.
Lost from Light understood this truth.
The strike they had just unleashed had required the full extent of his strength, yet it had only carved away a fraction of the Profaned God's vast form. Entropy still loomed above them with terrifying magnitude, its Garden already attempting to regrow the devastation inflicted upon it.
He needed more power. He needed more will.
Though the Silver Sky Weave continued gathering Soul Essence from the battlefield, though the will within his strikes carried disaster, passion, guidance, and the distant will of the stars, the result remained insufficient.
He was still lacking something fundamental.
Lost from Light was no Divine-Titan.
And that difference truly mattered in this battle between two gods, and one lesser one.
The realization bloomed within his thoughts as the battlefield raged around him. His mind searched desperately for some answer, some force capable of opposing the endless chaos emanating from the Profaned God.
Entropy represented dissolution.
The unraveling of structure.
The collapse of order into meaningless fragments until it reached a true end.
So what stood opposite such a thing?
His thoughts turned inward.
Disaster fueled his strikes.
Passion drove his will.
Guidance shaped the gathered essence.
And somewhere beneath it all, the distant will of the stars lent quiet stability to the Silver Sky Weave.
Yet none of those forces truly opposed Disorder.
They resisted it, certainly.
However, resistance alone would never be enough.
Something greater was required.
Then his gaze drifted downward.
Toward the shattered ruins of the Nameless Temple far below the battlefield.
A sudden idea ignited within his mind.
It was reckless.
Not to mention suicidal.
Lost from Light considered the possibility carefully while the battle continued raging above him.
Could he survive such a thing?
His mind had already endured countless regressions, each cycle leaving faint cracks within the structure of his thoughts. Though Mind Weave had helped him endure those burdens, and the divine lineage flowing through his veins strengthened him, the truth remained unavoidable.
Another god's presence might shatter him completely.
He exhaled slowly.
'Ah…'
Yet was that outcome truly so terrible?
Had he not once longed for oblivion?
The desire to fade away lingered somewhere deep within his heart, buried beneath layers of spite and the want for revenge. If his mind broke beneath the strain of divine authority, then perhaps that end would finally grant him the silence he had once sought.
Lost from Light lifted his gaze toward the towering form of Shadow God.
"Izanami."
The ancient deity turned his vast attention toward him.
Lost from Light forced the next words through his battered body.
"Do you think I could withstand the status of another god?"
For a moment, Shadow God remained silent.
The battlefield roared around them while the immense figure of the deity seemed to consider the question with patience.
Finally, the voice of the god answered.
["You already bear my diminished will,"] he said slowly, ["Weaver's treacherous spell has already weakened our Flames of Desire."]
His gaze remained fixed upon the Sacred-Titan.
["…It may be possible."]
Another pause followed before the god continued.
["Yet the damage will be severe."]
Lost from Light felt a faint smile appear across his face.
"So what?" he replied quietly. "What worse fate could I suffer than letting Entropy kill me?"
Shadow God offered no reply.
However, the silence carried a small acceptance.
That was enough of an answer for Lost from Light.
At that moment, Lost from Light gathered the remaining Soul Essence surrounding him, pulling the drifting fragments into the blade of Silver Sky Weave until the enormous weapon burned with blinding intensity. At the same time, he forced his hand open, allowing divine blood to well from his palm before condensing the crimson droplets into a single gleaming sphere.
Then he launched it downward.
The droplet of blood tore through the sky like a scarlet comet before striking the altar of the ruined Nameless Temple below.
The moment the blood touched ancient marble, Lost from Light spoke clearly.
And the Spell spoke as well.
[The Attribute 'Echo of the Stars' has been activated.]
"I will call the Gods that dwell within the Nightmare."
[In the flow of the stars, the gods within the Nightmare may hear your voice.]
His gaze lifted toward the distant heavens.
Then he called out.
"Lord of Light… Surya. I need your strength."
The Spell seemed hesitated.
[The status of this Desire is too high.]
[Your Spirit Origin is unstable. Will you accept this cost?]
Lost from Light already felt Shadow God's diminished will resting upon his existence like an enormous weight. Even so, the presence he had just invoked promised to bring stacked atop that.
Though, what more could he lose?
He accepted the cost.
And then, the darkness above the battlefield shifted at once.
Within the vast expanse of the night sky, a solitary star ignited.
At first it resembled nothing more than a distant spark trembling within the void.
Yet the spark grew brighter.
And brighter.
Until the heavens themselves seemed to recoil before its rising, heavenly flame.
The Spell stuttered.
[The 'Lord of Light, Surya' has descended into the ??? Nightmare.]
[The 'Lord of Light, Surya' has descended into your body.]
The solitary star burned like the heart of a newborn sun as its radiance plunged downward toward the battlefield.
Straight toward Lost from Light.