Shadow Slave: Flaw of Gods.

Veil was trembling. Before him, sprawled on the ground, lay a massive man. His stubble had already turned into a short beard, and a gaping, bloody hole marred his chest.

The air reeked of iron.

— Why… Why!?

Musashi coughed. A crimson stream trickled down his lips.

— Veil… — His voice was weak, but still warm. — Do you remember what I told you about my flaw?

Veil nodded, swallowing with difficulty.

— I knew when I would die.

Those words stabbed him like a knife to the heart.

— No… — He shook his head. — You can't… you don't…

— Actually… — Musashi fell silent, gathering his thoughts. His breathing grew heavier. — There were two reasons I protected you.

His eyes, once so full of life, began to dim.

— This is the second one.

Silence.

— With you… the time of my death would change. As if the world itself didn't know you existed. As if you were an error in the grand calculation. You are a variable that alters fate.

He smirked but immediately coughed, doubling over in pain.

— I hoped that by staying near you, I could deceive it… Foolish, right? Selfish… But don't misunderstand me… I enjoyed the time I spent with you.

Veil squeezed his eyes shut, tears streaming down his face.

— So, Veil… even if I die… even if others die… Don't die. Alright?

His voice trembled, but his hands remained strong.

Veil shook his head frantically.

— No! Don't say that! — He was gasping between words. — Don't talk like you're already… like you're…

Musashi smiled.

— Khh… It can't be changed, Veil. Fate can't be tricked.

His hand weakly lifted but immediately fell to the ground.

— My flaw tells me I don't have much time left…

He raised his foggy gaze.

— I have a request.

Veil bit his lip.

— The spell… — his voice was growing quieter, — only rewards the one who lands the final blow.

He coughed again, blood trailing down his chin.

— Veil… don't do it for yourself. Do it for me. Let my death mean something.

His fingers twitched, as if trying to grasp something. Veil, trembling, reached out and touched them. Warmth. Faint, but still there. A second later, it washed over him completely.

[You have acquired Memory: Myanmar.]

[You have acquired Memory: Haori.]

Veil exhaled shakily.

— Now… summon the sword.

— I don't want to… I can't!

— Please… time is short…

He looked into his friend's eyes. There was no fear left in them. Only acceptance.

His throat tightened.

With great effort, he raised his hand and extended his palm.

A bright flash split the air. From it, a blade slowly emerged.

So beautiful.

So deadly.

It always took about fifteen seconds to fully manifest. The longest fifteen seconds of his life.

Memories flickered before his eyes.

Their first meeting. Their first slain nightmare. Their first lesson.Harsh reprimands. Annoyance. Blows for laziness.Laughter by the fire. Care.Everything that made them them.

The blade finally took shape.

— Do it… — Musashi's voice was barely audible. — Please…

Veil's hands trembled. He gripped the hilt.

A deep breath.

lunge.

Steel pierced his mentor's throat. His commander. His friend.

[You have killed a sleeping man: Miyamoto Musashi.]

[Your dreams take form.]

Silence.

He did not scream.

He did not sob.

He did not collapse to his knees.

At first, a whisper.

— Forgotten Spark…

Louder.

— Forgotten Spark…

Even louder.

— FORGOTTEN SPARK!!

I don't want to forget you…

I don't want to.

I don't want to…

He stared at Musashi's face, memorizing every feature.

He did not blink.

He did not allow himself to blink.

As if that could keep him in this world.

***

Veil didn't know how long it had been.

He sat, unmoving, unaware of the passing days and nights. He felt neither cold nor pain nor the nauseating stench of decay that soon began to emanate from the body. He noticed nothing.

He could have stayed there forever. But time was relentless. His body, weakened by hunger, could barely move. His lips were cracked, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, and the world blurred before his eyes. When he tried to rise, his legs gave way, and he collapsed onto his back. Likely, he would have died there—next to the friend he had killed. The friend he could have saved.

But the rain saved him.

Cool drops fell on his face, trickling to his lips. The first drop brought faint relief. The second ignited a deep hunger. The third forced him to breathe deeper. He parted his lips, letting the water flow into his parched throat. He drank greedily, coughing but not stopping. And when his thirst finally subsided, he could finally speak.

— Only he is free… whom the world has already lost. Right?

These words echoed in the silence. He repeated them again. Louder. Again. Over and over.

Only he is free whom the world has already lost.

With each repetition, the meaning shifted, sunk in, became part of him.

Slowly, he sat up. These words had become his reality. He had fully accepted his friend's death. Accepted that he was a murderer. A pathetic, spineless murderer who had nothing left. No team. No purpose. Only memories.

And the world tried to take even those.

So he swore: even if he ever forgot, he would remember. He would find a way to reclaim what was lost.

Who was he before the Realm of Dreams? Who was he before the Academy? Before his first Nightmare? Did he have a family? A loving one, or not? Maybe he even had friends—friends like Musashi.

The weight on his heart grew heavier.

What if he had already made this promise before?

Veil hoped he was wrong. But when he escaped this cursed place, he would go back. He would find out who he used to be.

He stood. The rain now pounded like hail.

For the last time, he looked at Musashi's decaying face. Maggots writhed in rotting flesh. The stench was unbearable.

It was a miracle the nightmare creatures hadn't come to feast.

He raised his gaze. The sun, hidden behind thick black clouds, fought to break through the gray veil.

He needed to find food.