In the soft glow of early dusk, the study at the academy hummed with quiet anticipation. Teacher Julius, his lined face relaxed in a reflective smile, reached out for his steaming coffee mug. Sunless shifted uncomfortably, his eyes dark with a mix of curiosity and cautious daring, and began.
"So… Teacher Julius, I have a strange question."
"Go ahead, my boy," came the murmured reply as the old man sipped his coffee.
The air, thick with the aroma of roasted beans, seemed to pause as Sunny continued, "How extensive is your knowledge of the creatures that inhabit the dream realm? I mean, specifically incorporeal, wraith-like beings."
Julius's gaze lifted thoughtfully, as though he could see the very fabric of the dream realm stretching out before him. "Ah, while my passions have always leaned toward the geography and the ancient languages of that mystical plane, I've gathered more than a few tidbits about such elusive entities. Pray tell, why this inquiry?"
With a hint of mischief and earnest inquiry, Sunny replied, "I find myself fascinated by the idea of defeating such a creature. Imagine an adversary whose rank exceeds that of an awakened tyrant—a being whose very essence is as spectral as it is relentless."
A brief silence stretched between them, punctuated only by the quiet clink of Julius's spoon against the ceramic rim of his cup. His voice then returned, measured and inquisitive, "In this playful yet perilous hypothetical, what details have you gleaned of this creature? What of its habitat, its demeanour?"
Sunless leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he painted a scene with his words. "Picture a void—a dark, desolate expanse where water covers the floor scarcely. There, amid the oppressive gloom, drifts a wraith-like form, a spectre birthed of deep, unyielding shadow."
Julius's brow furrowed in contemplation. With deliberate care he queried further, "And in such a nightmare scenario, What memories might one wield?"
A wry smile tugged at the corners of Sunless's lips as he recalled the strange mix of items in his thoughts. "An awakened set of armour, and—a silver bell."
The mention of a bell stirred a flicker of amusement in Julius's eyes. "A bell, you say? And does this bell hold any enchantment, any secret beyond the clamor of its notes?"
Sunless's reply was tersely dry, almost dismissive. "No useful enchantment. It is simply loud."
Julius then turned his gaze toward his inquisitive pupil, his tone softening as he acknowledged the weight of the inquiry. "And you? What can you add? Surely, your own nature might illuminate the intricacies of this riddle."
After a moment of introspection, Sunny answered, his voice low and measured, "My aspect offers little in a head-to-head contest with such a being. " The boy paused before a grin appeared on his face.
"but who said it had to be fair. "
Sunny awoke in the dark expanse of his soul sea and instantly summoned the Puppeteer's Shroud. From a burst of white sparks, a dark-grey garment formed around the boy's lithe physique.
He took in his surroundings, and his eyes quickly landed on a group of shadows pooling together to form a humanoid silhouette.
"There you are." Sunny's voice sounded maniacal, and his future self couldn't help but feel a flash of pride—he was the first creature his past self had vowed to kill.
'They grow up so quick.'
The shadow wraith stirred to life and dashed toward the boy, its footsteps not disturbing the tranquil waters of Sunny's soul—as if it wasn't an intruder. As if it belonged.
The boy's grin grew wider until the mist finally reached and began to envelop him. As darkness started to block out the dim light of his soul, Sunny produced a small, intricate bell hidden within his clothes. He covered his ears and shook the bell as hard and violently as he could. The ringing pierced through the silence of his soul, loud enough to vibrate the dark waters beneath his feet.
Sunny's senses were greatly enhanced. As a Saint, he could hear conversations from across the Brilliant Emporium, which often left him bewildered. Customers would speak about a special candy that was supposedly the main reason for their visit—yet he sold nothing like what they described.
'Bite-sized?' This outraged Sunny. He wasn't like those legacy chefs who served tiny portions—no, he was incredibly generous, always filling people's plates to the brim.
These senses had only improved after Supremacy, and he had grown so used to the silence that surrounded him these days that the sudden stimulus shocked him for a moment, causing him to lose focus.
Sunny seized the opportunity. He wound up a maximum-effort punch, which dissolved into the mist before hitting something exceptionally hard.
"Damnation!" Sunny screamed, collapsing to his knees and cradling his limp hand.
'Oh, come on.' Future Sunny was both impressed and disappointed. The plan to use sound in hopes of stunning and making himself corporeal was inventive—but he hadn't thought of a way to kill him. Not really. And that punch... was he really so pathetic he couldn't even close his fist properly?
It wouldn't have mattered even if he had. Sunny's skin was like stone. His past self had basically just punched a brick wall.
'A jade wall' Sunny smirked as the boy looked at him with fear. But he didn't mind. If he was going to mentor himself their needed to be a level of respect. So he exerted more of his will and forced his form to stabilise as he waited for the frail boy to compose himself.
Sunny blinked through the pain, each breath a jagged whisper in the vast hush of his soul sea. The water beneath his boots was darker than a starless sky, quivering outward like ink spilled on glass with each heartbeat. From that silent expanse, a towering shape loomed—so tall its head seemed to brush the nothing above. It glided without a sound, its feet barely kissing the rippling surface. An overpowering pressure radiated from it, as if the very emptiness around them bent to its will. Yet that silhouette was oddly human… if "human" could be etched from molten night and shadowed thought.
Future Sunny's form had sharpened into clarity. He was tall and lean, limbs draped in a cloak of living smoke that curled and unfurled with every subtle motion. His flesh—if you could call it flesh—was a living void, blacker than the depth of any dream, shifting like liquid on a moonlit pool. There were no features to his face—just a smooth, unbroken canvas of absolute darkness, making him feel both eerily familiar and impossibly alien.
Sunny forced himself upright, pain flaring through every muscle as he rose shakily to his feet. The bell he still gripped rattled softly against his ribs. The ruined tendons in his hand throbbed, but he refused to wince. Shadows danced at the edge of his vision, drawn to the immense presence of his silent counterpart.
The inky figure tilted its head—slowly, deliberately—like a curious child inspecting a puzzle. The smoke-cape swirled in graceful spirals, sending tiny currents across the dark water. Then, with a fluid motion, one hand lifted in a soft, almost casual wave.
Sunny's eyes narrowed. "huh?'' The single syllable cracked through the void.
Future Sunny held his pose, utterly still—until the inky blackness around his form rippled. The gesture dissolved into a precise pointing motion at himself, followed by a deliberately enthusiastic thumbs-up. It was so impossibly simple that for a heartbeat, Sunny wondered if he'd dreamed it.
Shock crept across the boy's face, his brow arching. The bell slipped in his grasp, its clapper settling to a quiet cease. "you're friendly? Wait, then why the hell did you attack me last time?"
The shadow's shoulders rose in a slow, deliberate shrug—smoke tendrils drifting off the tips of each inch. It was a gesture of innocence, or perhaps exasperation, as if to say, I don't know, you tell me.
Sunny bit his lip, crossing his arms against his chest. The echo of his own question thumped in the stillness. 'why the hell did this weirdo have to set up shop here?' he thought, irritation and curiosity warring in his chest.
"why are you here?"
The shadow paused, every swirl of its form freezing like a photograph. For a moment, the pair stood locked in mirrored silence—boy and future self, two points on a continuum of light and dark.
Then Future Sunny drifted forward, the water breathing around him until his chest nearly brushed the boy's. One inky hand rose and settled gently on Sunny's shoulder, its touch light as a whisper but burning like ice. With the other hand, he moved deliberately, signing a single word in slow, emphatic strokes:
'Protect'
In that motion lay a promise heavier than any blade—and Sunny felt the tremor of it all the way to his soul.