Shadow Slave: Flaw of Gods.

Veil opened his eyes. Darkness. Heavy, viscous, as if it had seeped into the air itself.

He jerked, but immediately felt cold metal biting into his wrists. Chains. They restricted his movement, limiting his freedom. He tried to fall asleep—just as he always did when he needed to understand something. But sleep did not come.

Pain. Burning, gnawing. It spread through his body, but it pulsed the most below.

He couldn't feel them. He couldn't feel his legs.

The remnants of his limbs ached, throbbing with a dull, almost primal agony. What had happened? Where was he?

He swallowed, feeling the dryness in his mouth.

— Is anyone here? — His voice sounded hollow.

A hoarse, broken voice came from the corner.

— This time, it happened earlier than usual.

Veil flinched. He recognized that voice.

— Musashi?..

Silence. Then heavy, hollow laughter. Bitter, like an old wound.

— What does it matter? You'll abandon me again. Like always.

Veil frowned.

— What are you talking about? I never…

— Never? — Musashi scoffed. — Do you not remember? Or are you pretending? It doesn't matter. It will end the same way anyway.

— Musashi… — Veil tensed, trying to make out his figure in the darkness. — Tell me what's happening.

No response.

— Musashi!

Silence.

Veil gritted his teeth. Pain, cold, confusion in his head. It all pressed down on him, but there was no room for panic. He focused. On himself. On his condition.

Clothes. Intact, though soaked with sweat and possibly blood. The smell of dampness and something rotten.

He felt a connection to his clothes, just like—

His wrists were bound, but his leg stumps were free—that meant he wasn't just captured.

Veil took a deep breath. Somewhere in the darkness, Musashi was there.

Veil inhaled deeply.

The darkness around him felt endless, viscous, as if it filled his lungs along with the air. Somewhere out there, in this void, was Musashi. If he was here, then there was still a chance.

He lowered his gaze.

The runes trembled.

Not from fear, not from cold—but from change. As if something in his very essence had just been reborn, leaving behind a trail of phantom warmth that couldn't be felt by the skin but resonated somewhere deeper.

Name: [Veil].

True Name: [Forgotten Spark].

Rank: [Dreamer].

Soul Core: [Dormant].

Dream Fragments: [549/1000].

Memories: [A Flask of Slime], [Mark of Homelessness], [Seal of the Forgotten Shore], [Petal of Silence].

Echo: —

Attributes: [Heavens' Contempt], [Mark of Divinity], [Heir of Dreams (Locked)], [Whisper of Souls].

Aspect: [Forgotten Dream].

Aspect Rank: Divine.

Aspect Abilities: [Crossroads Reverie].

Drawback: [Phantom Identity].

549 dream fragments. He had gathered 549 dream fragments. Veil scrolled down further.

Veil froze, staring at the symbols before him.

Four Memories and a New Attribute. The new attribute drew him in, but something kept pulling his attention away from it.

But… "Heir of Dreams" — Locked.

What did that mean? Why?

Veil frowned. His runes had always been like an open book, available for him to read at any moment. But now, they only raised more questions. And right now, one thing attracted him more than anything.

He saw it.

His Aspect.

He could read it. Feel its weight within his existence. Forgotten Dream.

But why had he never seen it before? Why did the memory of it disappear every time he tried to hold onto it?

Something was diverting his attention. Every time.

— How much…

…

— Musashi, how much time has passed!? — Veil nearly shouted.

He continued to ignore him, and then…

Footsteps.

Heavy, soft, as if someone was wading through thick fog.

They sounded wrong.

Not just approaching—they were circling him, echoing against walls he couldn't even see.

Then, light.

Dim, weak, but strong enough to break the endless darkness.

Veil slowly lowered his gaze.

His legs.

They were there.

But the skin was pale, crisscrossed with lines of old scars he didn't remember.

When had he hurt himself like that?

A blond man covered in hundreds of scars stepped into the cell, looking slightly unhinged. His face was round and thin, and in his hands, he carried a lantern with a flickering flame inside.

The moment he saw them, his lips curled into a bloodthirsty smile.

— Shall we continue?

Continue what?

Veil didn't even have time to open his mouth before the sharp clank of chains rang out. The lantern's light cut into his eyes, and for a moment, he saw Musashi's face. He looked just as exhausted as Veil—dark circles under his eyes, lips cracked, gaze distant. But at the sight of the blond man, his fingers clenched into fists.

The blond tilted his head, as if surprised by the reaction. Then, his grin widened.

— Oh, so you can still feel anger? Interesting.

He stepped closer, and Veil noticed that the man's clothes were speckled with small patches of dried blood. Most likely, not his own.

He was holding something between his fingers. A blade? No, too thin—more like… a needle.

"You know, I've always been fascinated by how living beings react to pain," the man mused, straightening up. "Everyone has their limits. Yours… I'd like to test."

He stepped toward Veil.

Veil jerked, but the chains didn't even let him move aside.

"Struggling is useless," the blond murmured, gripping Veil's chin with cold fingers. He tilted his head slightly, studying his face intently.

Then, without warning, he drove the needle into Veil's forearm.

The pain was… strange. Like a thin piece of steel piercing the skin but barely touching the muscle. But as the needle went deeper, a burning sensation flooded through his body.

Veil clenched his teeth but made no sound.

"Let's see how long you last today."

He pulled out another needle. And at that moment, Veil understood.

— Tim...

***

"I think that's enough for today."

The blond collected his bloodstained needles and, smiling contentedly, finally left, leaving them in oppressive silence.

Veil exhaled. His body was battered, the pain refused to subside, but the strangest part—his mind was clear. This wasn't a normal memory triggered by the magical artifact. He couldn't wake up.

Suddenly, screams echoed from above. Long, filled with pain and fear. Then—silence. Only hurried footsteps broke it, but they didn't belong to the blond.

A girl emerged from the shadows.

Snow-white hair, gray eyes, a golden rope tied around her waist, its soft glow spreading across the floor but unable to light up the entire room. She examined their silhouettes before speaking.

"Greetings, prisoners. I am the Changing Star. I have come to free you… and finally put an end to Gunlaug."

Her sword gleamed as she slashed through Musashi's iron chains in a single motion. At that instant, fire engulfed him, and Veil almost screamed, but… instead of burns, his body began to heal.

The girl winced, as if the process caused her pain, but she persisted. When Musashi was able to stand, she turned to Veil.

The light illuminated his face, and suddenly, she froze.

Her eyes widened, her breath hitched.

"Veil…?"

What…?

Before he could ask anything, the blade was already in her stomach.

Musashi.

His katana pierced straight through her.

She shuddered, slowly sinking to her knees. A strangled gasp escaped her lips, and she looked at Veil as if she couldn't believe what was happening.

Veil couldn't believe it either.

Who was she? Why did she know his name?

"We have a chance—grab onto me, now," Musashi's voice was cold, like the metal of his blade.

Veil didn't argue. He couldn't move anyway. Whatever was happening here, he knew one thing—they had to escape.

"I didn't think we would actually get out," Musashi said quietly. "Sorry about our last conversation. I wasn't exactly myself."

Veil sighed and looked at the girl who had just saved them. For some reason, he felt… anger toward her.

"It's nothing…"

But before they could leave the room, the air ignited.

Heat filled the space, like the sun had exploded right in front of them.

An explosion.

A wave of fire threw them back.

Musashi took the brunt of the impact, but even then, Veil was nearly knocked unconscious. A ringing in his ears, the searing heat on his skin—and then… footsteps.

A dark-haired young man burst into the room.

His gaze flickered over the scene—bodies, blood, Musashi with a bloodied sword—and his blade shot upward.

"Bastards."

Veil hissed in pain, his body too battered to move. Damn it, he couldn't sleep, couldn't strengthen Musashi, and in this state, he was completely useless.

What could he do to save his… friend? He didn't know why, but he considered Musashi to be an incredibly important friend.

Gritting his teeth, Veil forced himself to rise. His body screamed in protest, but he bent it to his will.

Then, he called upon a memory.

A blade.

It appeared in his hand, and using it as support, Veil watched with a dark expression as Musashi fought off two incredibly strong Sleepers.

He looked at the weapon—he had never seen it before, but… he could feel its immense power.

Musashi dodged, moving faster than ever. He had grown stronger, too.

But Veil couldn't just stand there.

He attacked.

The dark-haired man turned to him, and from his shadow… a figure emerged.

A woman of stone.

Her eyes glowed, and in the next instant, she lunged at Veil with inhuman speed.

What the hell?!

Veil tried to dodge but was too slow from his injuries.

This was the end.

"Sunny, stop!"

The woman froze, her blade stopping a hair's breadth from his throat. To his surprise, his body reacted faster than his mind, and his sword was already blocking the stabbing motion aimed at his neck.

Veil panted, staring into her lifeless eyes.

This girl… she had just saved him?

He tightened his grip on the sword.

"Musashi!" His voice was tense. "Why are we even fighting?!"

Musashi, never breaking his rhythm, glanced at him.

And in his eyes, Veil saw something he never expected.

Coldness. Coldness toward him. Coldness toward his life and coldness toward his death.

Musashi raised his sword, pointing it at Veil. Veil didn't understand, but he needed to before it was too late. He searched for answers while Musashi moved toward him, parrying attacks from three powerful enemies. He was a monster in human form—when had he become this strong?

Something was wrong.

The answer… It was close. So close! Veil could feel it. Ever since he woke up, everything had seemed strange.

Why had he forgotten everything? Why did he feel anger toward that girl? How had he summoned a sword without even thinking? Why was Musashi ignoring him? Why did his body feel foreign? Why was the Heir of Dreams locked?

Despite the battle raging around him, he looked at his aspect once more: [Forgotten Dream].

He remembered. Or rather, he allowed himself to remember.

This world… wasn't real. Everything around him was covered in a haze. The enemies lacked detail; they moved in ways they shouldn't. They were too exaggerated, their attacks—too predictable. His thoughts, his emotions—everything was distorted. He understood. He realized.

"How cruel…" he whispered.

Veil tightened his grip on the sword. Resolutely. His gaze swept over Musashi and the others. The faces of his enemies twisted—they no longer looked like people. They were monsters. Abominations. Something unreal.

He knew how to win.

All four of them lunged at him with lightning speed. He couldn't dodge. Their blades were nearly at his skin.

But then Veil did something he wasn't supposed to do.

He focused—not on the battle, but on himself.

And before their weapons could pierce his throat, he drove his own sword into his heart.

***

Veil opened his eyes and saw his reflection in the blade of a new sword. He was within a green vortex, drifting in the depths of the spiritual realm. Few among the dead knew the secret of this place. And survivors… perhaps there had never been any.

You received a memory: [Soul's Call]

But he had done it.

Now he had a weapon. A weapon forged from forgotten voices. A weapon cast from lost fates. Deadly and eternal.

And now, with everything in place, he would do what he must.

Veil smiled sadly.

"Changing Star…" he ran his fingers along the smooth surface of the blade. "Very soon, you will die."