Behind the plain, unremarkable door lay a modest hall—neither grand nor imposing, but its true worth was betrayed by the air itself, humming faintly with restrained power.
The room was medium-sized, without a single window. Instead, it was lit by an eerie, hovering lantern suspended in midair at the center of the ceiling. The lantern burned with a clean, steady glow—no flame, no flicker, only that soft radiance spilling across every corner with unnatural clarity.
Weapon racks lined the walls, heavy with gleaming arms. Full suits of armor were mounted on wooden mannequins like silent sentinels, and the long tables bore a chaotic arrangement of items both elegant and strange—etched trinkets, delicate glass vials, grim masks, polished relics of war. Everything in that room—every weapon, every piece of armor, every glowing charm or crystalline knick-knack—was a Memory.
And not the kind you tossed into a corner.
No… this quiet little vault was worth more than the treasuries of most corporate kingdoms. Hidden behind an unimpressive wooden door was a fortune, tucked away where only a select few could browse.
"Ah, good to see you again, sir—!"
The cheerful voice snapped Sunny out of his subtle but very real moment of coveting everything in the room. He blinked once, then twice, before his gaze settled on the speaker.
"…Huh?"
It was Stev.
A man nearing twenty-five—old by Dark City standards—and unfortunately cursed with both a round face and the kind of eyes that always made it clear when greed was at war with fear. Which, in this case, was often. Sunny's presence had a way of evoking both.
'Still trying to figure out if it's worth trying to fleece me…'
After their first "shopping trip," Stev had learned two important things. One: Sunny had money, and was not shy about spending it. In bulk. Two: trying to scam the Duke of the Dark City was a mistake you only made once, if at all.
Stev also stood out for another reason: he was fat. The first truly fat person Sunny had seen in the city. That was impressive in its own right. Food wasn't easy to come by for most, and excess usually meant weakness. But here he was, somehow having made obesity work. Whether it was skill or sin that got him there… Sunny still wasn't sure.
The man was looming over him—tall, round, and still beaming—when he caught sight of Kai, who stood a little to Sunny's left. The look Stev gave him then was… complicated.
"Oh, my dear friend Night," he said with the kind of voice that tried too hard to sound casual. "I didn't know you associated with the likes of the Duke?"
Kai blinked, a bit confused by the sudden shift in tone.
Sunny sighed, already tired of the games.
'Be civil… be civil…'
"Hey, fat bastard. You got time for pleasantries, or are you gonna show me the new shit or not?"
A cold silence dropped like a guillotine. Kai's eyes widened; Stev's face twitched.
"Ah! Of course, sir, of course," the merchant said quickly, bowing his head with nervous energy. "We… ah, we did have some stock issues, what with the tournament preparations, but we've still got a few new arrivals!"
"I'm probably going to buy all of it," Sunny muttered without breaking stride, already stepping into the heart of the display.
Kai stayed behind for a second, struck silent. A moment later, he blinked and rushed to catch up, emerald eyes still wide.
The sheer number of Memories on display was staggering. Sunny moved among them like a ghost, methodical and focused. Dozens of weapons gleamed beneath the lantern light: straight swords, curved sabers, wicked estocs, elegant rapiers. Daggers like wolf fangs, polearms of all shapes—glaives, halberds, naginatas. Maces and hammers loomed, heavy and unforgiving, their magic coiled tightly like a predator waiting to strike.
Kai drifted toward a rack of bows, his fingers hovering over the wood and string as though afraid to touch. One in particular caught his eye—a jade bow, simple but beautiful, with a faint green shimmer dancing along the curve. He stared at it, mesmerized.
Sunny noticed.
He didn't say anything. He just glanced at the price tag, nodded slightly to himself, and slipped it onto his purchase list like it meant nothing at all. No ceremony. No announcement. Just a quiet decision filed away alongside everything else.
There were armors too—leathers, chains, heavy plates. Some were forged to inspire awe, others for fear. Some shimmered subtly with enchantments, others just felt dangerous.
Sunny wandered between the tables, letting his hand brush over a weapon here, a shield there. To the average onlooker, it looked casual. But to him, the Weave unfurled the moment his skin made contact. The inner nature of the Memory revealed itself: intention, strength, potential… flaws.
There were no masterpieces here—nothing that could truly rival his own prized arsenal. But even so, Sunny picked out the best from the rest, sorting the good from the forgettable. The worst? Those would be fed to Saint. The decent ones? Reserved for the tournament.
The tournament itself had been Tessai's idea, and, Sunny had to admit, it was genius.
They needed powerful soldiers if they wanted to storm the Crimson spire.
But the Host couldn't afford to hand out gifts freely—especially not now, when Nephis had taught the masses to rise, not kneel. But a competition? That was a different beast.
By letting people win their rewards, the Host retained control. They could study Aspect abilities, assess combat skill, and more importantly, reinforce their image. With the right set-up, the Hosts' chosen could demonstrate overwhelming strength, cementing the faction's dominance—without having to say a word.
To the people in the slums, the Tournament looked like an act of cruelty in the guise of entertainment. A chance to earn Memories. A chance to saturate their soul core.But the truth was far more layered. Even the entry gift—ten Awakened soul shards and a decent Memory—were part of a larger calculation.
Sunny understood. Tessai wasn't just giving them a way to grow stronger. He was making sure they did it in a way the Host could predict and control.
And for Sunny… the tournament was an opportunity. To strengthen his faction. To advance in the Shadow Dance. To watch for enemies. And most importantly, to steer Cassie's vision in the direction he preferred.
The part about the castle drenched in blood had already happened, thanks to the Mimic attack. The fire and armies? Still missing. But the board was set. And the pieces were moving.
As he walked away from the last table, now with over a dozen new Memories stored away—including a jade bow he hadn't mentioned—Stev gave a low bow and murmured: "Please, give Aiko my regards…"
Sunny didn't answer.
But Kai did, quietly: "That man… he's quite the character, huh?"
Sunny only grunted in reply.
The two left the Memory market behind, one looking faintly disturbed, the other already calculating how much blood would have to be spilled before fate bent into a shape he could control.
'*'
In the evening, Kai and Sunny arrived at Alice's bordel.
From the outside, it looked like a standard military barracks—angular, gray, and built with utilitarian drabness. But anyone with two eyes and half a brain would know something was off the moment they noticed the two-meter-thirty-tall otter in a suit and top hat standing by the door.
The Misty bouncer was one of Alice's little pet projects, like Puffy. She'd made it with the [Stalwart steps] Sunny had given her as an awkward apology. Somehow, she'd taken a Memory and a half-baked idea and turned it into this towering, mist-leaking gentleman creature. It stood with a straight spine and a gloved paw resting on a gold-topped cane, blinking its glowing eyes at passersby like some unholy mix of butler and eldritch horror.
Inside, the bordel was pure madness.
Mist clung to everything like a second skin. Purple neon lights twisted around green bioluminescent veins that pulsed faintly with life, giving the walls a sickly, breathing quality. A wide walkway ran through the center like a catwalk, flanked by scattered privacy booths. From below came the pulse of muffled music—slippery, atmospheric, and just unsettling enough to remind everyone this was Alice's domain.
If one dared to venture to the lower level, they'd find heaps of cushions and sprawled-out patrons, many of whom were halfway through a haze of euphoria, giggling or whispering to hallucinations only they could see. The Mist was heavier down there, a narcotic fog of dream and delirium.
The workers drifted through it all in various states of dress—nothing explicit, but just suggestive enough that the bolder women could pull in extra soul shards if they wanted to. But neither Sunny nor Kai cared. Kai was used to the sight, having worked here on and off as an occasional performer. He was already chatting up some of the girls with that bright-eyed charm of his, all easy smiles and soft laughs.
Sunny, on the other hand, had no interest in anything except surviving the next thirty seconds without being smothered to death.
"Awwww THANK you thank you thanky very much, Sunnyyyy!"
Alice's voice blasted into his skull like a caffeinated cannonball.
She hit him at full speed, throwing her arms around him and shaking him violently side to side in what she insisted was a 'hug.' Mist swirled in her wake like glitter in a hurricane. Her hair had been tied up in twin puffs that bounced with each movement, her eyes wide with glee and her grin—of course—full of white fangs.
"You found Night! I was soooo worried! Like full mama bear panic mode, like—'where is my precious sparkly boy'—panic!"
Sunny endured it like a seasoned veteran, his face perfectly deadpan.
"Yeah, yeah," he muttered. "Can you just get my room ready?"
Alice narrowed her eyes playfully, one fang poking from beneath her lip. "What's the magic word?"
He sighed. Loudly.
"…Please."
Her grin exploded into something dangerous.
"It's already ready! I couldn't wait to get some sick tats again—OH, wait, this is the first time anyone gets tats, isn't it?" she gasped, already dragging him toward the back hallway. "Virgin skin! Pure unmarked flesh! I'm gonna cry, Sunny. Cry like a proud mom. Or maybe a hype beast. BOTH."
Sunny didn't resist. Resisting Alice when she was in this mood was like trying to wrestle a cyclone. He just let himself be pulled along.
Behind them, Kai waved vaguely at one of the girls who blew him a kiss, then jogged after them with a bemused expression.
The room Alice had prepped was… simple, by her standards. There was a cot pushed to the side, a bucket of water that smelled faintly of iron, and a small cluster of glowing mushrooms pulsing gently in the corners. practiced while waiting.
Sunny stepped inside, then turned to look at her.
"I'm going to clean myself before starting. Leave."
Alice pouted exaggeratedly, pressing her hands to her cheeks. "Awwww, but I wanted to stare respectfully while you washed off all that sexy dried blood."
He gave her a look. He really didn't want to deal with Harus again.
She snorted, gave a lazy wave, and skipped off down the hallway. "Fine! But I'm sending Kai in with towels and snacks!"
Kai, who'd just reached the door, blinked. "Wait, I am?"
"You are now, babe~!" Alice called over her shoulder.
"…Alright, I guess I am," Kai muttered with a sigh, stepping into the room and placing a folded towel on a stool. He glanced around, taking in the faintly glowing mushrooms. "This place is so weird. Even for Alice."
"She thinks chaos is a personality trait," Sunny replied, already peeling off the bloodstained armor. "She might be right."
"Do you really think this will work?" Kai asked, quieter now. He leaned against the wall, watching as Sunny drew a cloth from the bucket and began scrubbing away the worst of the gore.
Sunny didn't answer immediately. He focused on cleaning his arms, then his chest, the muscles in his back shifting as he worked. Finally, he said, "It will, as long as I poke deep enough into the skin the ink will stay."
The silence stretched for a few seconds.
Kai tilted his head. "You're nervous."
"I'm always nervous," Sunny muttered.
"No, like—extra nervous. You always get snappier when you're trying not to show it."
Sunny gave him a sidelong glance. "Do you want your tattoo crooked?"
Kai grinned. "Noooope."
Eventually, Sunny dressed himself in the [Puppeteer's Shroud], pulling the strange, shifting cloak over his shoulders. With a thought, he dismissed the [Nevermore's Embrace], the Memory unraveling in a gentle cascade of black dots of light before vanishing completely.
He stood straight, eyes sharp now. Focused.
Kai stepped forward and nodded. "Okay. I'm ready if you are."
'*'
The first to volunteer were the castle guards. Of course, it had to be them—loyal, proud, and hungry to wear their new strength on their skin. The first among them to step forward was Tessai, their leader, whose heavy footsteps echoed as he entered the candlelit room.
Sunless gave a nod of greeting, already kneeling by the low table where his tools lay. They were crude by modern standards—just a small hammer and a carved stick with a special, gleaming needle at its head—but there was something sacred in their simplicity. Sunless didn't need machines. What he offered wasn't ink. It was meaning. Power etched through pain.
Tessai removed his shirt without ceremony, revealing a muscular frame crisscrossed by the scars of countless battles. He sat down before Sunny like a man at peace with whatever pain was to come.
The design they had agreed upon was something that reminded Sunny of ancient earth warriors—Nordic, almost, but stylized with arcane geometry. A stylized shield bloomed across Tessai's left shoulder, ringed with runes glowing in bioluminescent blue and soft violet. The lines spread down to his upper bicep, twining with stylized bands of what looked like woodgrain and leather straps. On his chest, spreading toward his right arm, was a knotwork beast—some hybrid of wolf and dragon.
It was more than aesthetics.
Sunny leaned over Tessai, tapping the needle in rhythmic, careful strikes. "You know," he murmured as the first blood welled up beneath the skin, "this is going to hurt a lot more if you tense up."
Tessai grunted. "I've taken worse."
"Yeah, but I'm going to be annoyed if your muscle spasms ruin the shading."
The others laughed. Even Tessai's face cracked in the tiniest grin.
As Sunny worked, he explained what the tattoos meant. Not just to him, or to the guards—but to the world outside.
"See, when we go back," he said, pausing only to wipe away the blood and begin another line, "there's going to be competition. Everyone wants fame, sponsorships, glory. But you need branding. Something people remember. Something they feel when they see it."
He gestured with his chin toward the glowing shield.
"That's this. It's unity. It's memory. It's recognition. Anyone who sees this? They'll know it means you. Castle Guard. Tessai. And they'll remember."
The others murmured, watching with growing pride and solemnity as the lines took shape. Sunless finished Tessai's tattoo after more than an hour, the glow of the runes still pulsing faintly under the mistlight.
"Next," he said, flexing his fingers and cracking his neck.
One by one, the guards stepped forward. Some went for the shoulder-only version of the shield; others opted for additions—family names, mottos, pieces of their individual stories laced subtly into the design. But all of them bore the same round shield, the same bioluminescent runes, the same quiet pride in their new mark.
Kai stayed off to the side for most of it, chatting with some of the bolder girls lounging in the smoky, neon-lit haze of the upper floor. The workers were in various states of dress, some draped in sheer silks or reflective fabrics that shimmered with movement. Nothing overtly explicit, but suggestive enough that the braver women could earn a few extra soul shards with a well-timed smile or teasing lean. Neither Kai nor Sunless particularly cared. Kai was used to it—he had worked here occasionally, after all—and made easy conversation, his warm charm leaving trails of laughter in his wake.
Sunless didn't notice much of it. He was busy. Focused. But when he looked up after finishing the seventh shield tattoo, something in him shifted.
Kai had stopped flirting. He was watching. Really watching—eyes wide with something between awe and curiosity.
Without a word, Sunless stood, wiped his hands, and walked over to where his supplies sat. He picked up a spare hammer and a fresh needle, and handed them, almost carelessly, to Kai.
"Alright. Your turn."
Kai blinked. "Wait. What?"
"You wanted to learn," Sunless said, his voice calm but unreadable. "This is how you learn. Start with the line work. Don't worry if it's messy—I can cover it."
Kai hesitated, glancing at the tool in his hand as though it might explode. "You sure? I mean, this seems... permanent."
Sunny shrugged. "It is. That's the point."
There was silence for a moment. Then Kai chuckled nervously and crouched next to the table. Sunless knelt beside him, adjusting his grip, shifting his posture, guiding his hands.
"You don't have to strike hard," Sunny said. "Just steady. Consistent."
He demonstrated once, his motions economical and clean. Then let Kai try.
The first tap was hesitant. The second had more confidence. By the third, Kai's hand had stopped shaking.
They worked like that for a while. Sunless giving quiet corrections. Kai muttering under his breath, his tongue sticking out slightly as he focused. And gradually, the distance between them began to shrink—not just physically, but in something else.
Trust.
"You've got a good eye," Sunless muttered at one point. "Lines are clean. Rhythm's decent."
Kai beamed. "You think so?"
Sunny gave him a sideways glance. "Don't get cocky. You still suck at circles."
That made Kai laugh—an open, boyish sound that somehow managed to make the whole mist-drenched room feel a little warmer.
When the eighth guard stood and looked down at the finished tattoo, they both sat back, tired but oddly satisfied.
Kai wiped his brow and looked over. "So, uh... we're going to finish all of them tonight?"
Sunny shrugged. "Just a few more, I still got a few other people to ink."
A beat passed. Kai nudged him lightly. "You know, you're not as grumpy as you pretend to be."
Sunny didn't answer right away. Then, almost too quietly to hear:
"Don't tell anyone."
Kai grinned. "Your secret's safe with me, boss."
Outside the booth, the sounds of laughter and muted music continued. But inside, with glowing ink and shared silence, something quiet had begun to form.
A friendship.
And beneath the bioluminescent light, the tattoos gleamed like promises.
Soon they had done a variety of tattoos for many different people. Personally the shark maw In between the shoulder blades of Sasha was his favorite, but Kai preferred two other belonging to Alice and Harus, a chain and hookah respectively. Sunless didn't understand why though.