shadow slave, Echoes of the forgotten

Sunny slumped in the plastic chair, his muscles aching from two days of constant vigilance. Watching over a potential sleeper during their first nightmare was always nerve-wracking, but this was different. This time, it wasn't just another initiate—it was someone he knew and loved deeply.

'Damnation, why did this have to happen?' The thought circled his mind like a carrion bird, pecking at his conscience. He was supposed to be her trainer, her protector. How had he missed the signs of infection?

The nearly empty teacup trembled slightly in his hand. He craved another, but the thought of leaving her bedside, even for a moment, made his stomach clench. Though the station was built for situations like this—reinforced walls, emergency protocols in place, backup systems standing ready—he was the only one qualified to handle a crisis if it arose. So he remained, a silent guardian, watching for any change.

Exhaustion dragged at him as he leaned back, his head falling against the chair's hard plastic. His eyes traced the room's sterile walls for what felt like the hundredth time, memorizing every crack, every shadow. The silence pressed against his ears like cotton wool, broken only by the soft breathing he produced.

With practiced focus, he activated his special sight, examining her soul. It remained steady, unchanged—and that stillness sparked a fresh tendril of fear in his chest. In his experience, lack of change was rarely good news.

His own hunger gnawed at him, but he pushed it aside. Food could wait. Nothing mattered except the figure lying motionless before him.

Fear was Sunny's constant companion—whether facing nightmare creatures, confronting the consequences of his choices, or dealing with the unexpected. But this fear was different. This was Rain, lying still as death, her face peaceful as though she were merely sleeping. He knew better. Somewhere beyond the veil of the nightmare spell, she fought a battle that would either forge her into something stronger or destroy her completely.

He leaned forward, clasping his hands until his knuckles whitened. The stillness felt wrong, like a held breath before disaster. Rain had trained for this, pushed herself beyond normal limits. He'd done everything possible to prepare her, spending countless nights drilling techniques, days testing her endurance. He'd thought he was ready to step back, to let her face this trial alone. Now, watching her lifeless form, failure's weight crushed against his ribs.

The memory of her parents' words cut deeper than any physical wound. That day, when he'd finally gathered the courage to reveal his true identity, they'd stopped him with quiet desperation. "We don't care," her mother had said, voice quavering. "We've already lost a son to this curse. Don't let us lose her, too." They hadn't accused or raged—they'd simply begged. And he'd promised.

What value did that promise hold now, when he could only watch helplessly? His eyes searched Rain's face for any sign of the battle she waged. Then he noticed something strange—a single strand of her hair had darkened, shifting to an impossible shade.

His gaze remained fixed on her features. Failure here meant more than losing Rain. The nightmare spell would tear reality's fabric, releasing horrors twisted by dark magic into the world. He'd witnessed such catastrophes before. Yet it wasn't the thought of monsters that constricted his throat—it was the possibility of losing her, his sister, though she remained unaware of their connection.

If she survived, things would change, he could finally reveal himself as her brother. But those concerns belonged to the future. For now, survival was all that mattered.

Another strand of hair darkened. Sunny's attention darted between the physical change and her soul's subtle progress—the first movement he'd detected in hours.

He pushed himself up, pacing the room's length. "You'll make it," he whispered, the words a prayer. "You have to." His hands clenched into fists as he turned to watch her again.

The promise burned in his mind. Whatever the cost, he would keep it. If she survived, he would finally speak the truth. No more secrets. No more shadows.

For now, he could only wait. And hope.

Mid-stride, Sunny froze as several more strands darkened. His heart stuttered, eyes scanning her soul desperately. She hadn't moved—couldn't move. The trial existed separately from her physical form, leaving no way to interpret these changes as victory or defeat.

He forced air into his lungs, steadying trembling hands. The trial tested more than power or knowledge—it demanded resilience. Rain, who possessed that quality in abundance, had proven it repeatedly. But resilience alone couldn't guarantee survival, and Sunny hated depending on mere hope.

Thoughts of her parents surfaced again. Their son's failure had nearly destroyed them. He'd seen that devastation in their eyes when they'd pleaded for him to protect their daughter. The heavy silence that followed her mother's words had contained no anger, no relief at his agreement—only a vast emptiness.

More hair darkened, and now her skin began to change, taking on a luminescent quality similar to his own. Sunny moved closer to the bed, his chest constricting. "Come on, Rain. Fight."

With each passing second, more strands darkened, though her soul transformed far more gradually than her physical appearance. The disparity between the two changes only heightened his anxiety, leaving him to wonder which transformation truly marked progress—and which might signal doom.

The air hummed with an otherworldly resonance that made Sunny's breath catch in his throat. This wasn't normal—something fundamental was shifting in the room's atmosphere.

If this was progress, it could mean Rain was approaching the trial's end. If not... He forced the darker possibilities from his mind.

A creak from the reinforced door cut through his thoughts. He spun sharply, tension coiling in his chest, only to see Rain's mother slip inside. Her face was drawn, dark circles beneath eyes reddened by endless worried nights.

"Is there any change?" Her whispered question barely disturbed the air.

Sunny hesitated, weighing his words carefully. "Her hair... it's darker," he said finally, glancing back at Rain's still form. "I think she's still fighting." He couldn't bring himself to mention how her soul was transforming—some things were too difficult to explain to those who couldn't see them.

"I've been praying," she murmured, wringing her hands. "To anything that will listen." The fragile hope in her voice made his chest ache.

Sunny looked away, jaw tightening. He wanted to offer certainty, but promises felt dangerous in this moment of transformation.

More strands of Rain's hair darkened to match his own, her skin taking on the same luminescent quality he possessed. A low hum resonated through the room, making both watchers freeze. The air grew thick with potential, pressing against them like an invisible tide.

Rain's mother instinctively backed away, but Sunny moved closer, driven by need to witness whatever came next. His special sight revealed her soul—stable now, nearly complete in its metamorphosis. He'd always known Rain was a fighter, had seen that steel in her long before this trial began.

Hope bloomed in his chest, surprising him with its intensity. These days, hope felt like a luxury he couldn't afford, yet here it was, insistent and bright.

When Rain's soul completed its transformation, Sunny's jaw dropped. This wasn't normal—her soul radiated an almost sacred light, different from anything he'd seen before. Not even Cassie's soul had this quality.

'Could it be?' His thoughts raced as he studied the mysterious illumination of her core. Something about it transcended the ordinary boundaries of sleeper abilities. Whatever power she'd gained in that nightmare, it was exceptional.

Rain stirred, her eyes fluttering open. Her gaze found him first, and he couldn't help but smile. Her mother rushed forward with a sob, gathering her daughter in her arms. Tears flowed freely between them as Sunny quietly removed the safety restraints.

He moved to the doorway, giving them space while his mind wandered to his cohort. He'd left Saint to train them, remembering their faces when he'd brought her out. Their questions had gone unanswered—he'd departed before they could voice them, though he suspected they'd already deduced his mongrel nature. Their insight deserved reward, even if that reward meant more intensive training.

When Rain and her mother finally separated, Rain approached him. The changes were striking now—she nearly matched his height, her appearance eerily similar to his own. Without hesitation, he pulled her into an embrace, allowing himself one moment of vulnerability as a tear escaped.

"We really look like siblings now," he said softly, his voice steady despite the emotion beneath. "Just like before."

Confusion clouded Rain's expression, prompting a resigned sigh from Sunny. "I mean, we look similar because we are siblings. Same blood, same family."

Rain blinked rapidly, her brow furrowing as she processed his words. "Siblings? What are you talking about? I don't..." The words died in her throat as she searched his face, really seeing him perhaps for the first time.

"Your have a brother, Rain," Sunny said gently. "I didn't die. I've been here all along, watching over you because I couldn't bear the thought of you growing up alone."

Rain stood motionless, shock and recognition warring across her features. Her eyes traced his familiar-yet-strange features—the darker hair, the pale skin that now matched her own. "You're... you're my brother?" Her voice cracked on the last word.

He nodded slowly, letting her absorb the truth. "I wanted to tell you sooner, but things were complicated. I thought a normal life would be better for you. Then the nightmare spell infected you..." He glanced away, guilt evident in his expression. "I couldn't stay hidden anymore."

Rain's breath caught as years of memories realigned themselves, showing her the truth that had always been there. Tears welled in her eyes as she found traces of the boy she'd thought lost forever in the man before her. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

Sunny's face tightened with old pain. "Because I was scared—scared of what it would mean for you, for your new family. They love you so much, Rain. I couldn't risk taking that away from you."

Silence stretched between them as Rain processed everything. Finally, she let out a shaky breath, offering a small, tentative smile. "I guess... I have two families now."

Relief softened Sunny's features as he returned her smile. "Yeah. You do."

Wiping her eyes, Rain straightened, trying to gather herself. "So... now that I'm a Sleeper, what happens next?"

Sunny's expression grew serious. "First, you rest. You just survived something that kills most people who face it."

"And after that?" Rain tilted her head, a familiar determination entering her eyes.

The question hung in the air, heavy with possibility and the weight of changes yet to come.

Sunny crossed his arms, his expression thoughtful. "You have options. The academy's there if you want it—good place for connections, learning the ropes, meeting other Sleepers. But..." He met her gaze directly. "You don't need it. What you already know about surviving the dream realm? That's more than enough. If you're not ready to leave home, stay. Spend time with your family."

Rain's brow furrowed. "But isn't the academy important? Don't most Sleepers go there?"

"It's not about the institution," Sunny explained, his voice carrying the weight of experience. "It's about the people you meet. No one survives the dream realm alone, Rain. The connections you make there could save your life someday. That's the real value. But there's no rush—you have time."

Rain nodded slowly, her gaze drifting to the window. "The winter solstice... That's when I have to enter the dream realm, right?"

"Yes," Sunny confirmed. "You have until then to decide. But for now?" His expression softened. "You've earned the right to just be home."

A small smile touched Rain's lips, the thought of staying with her family warming something deep inside her. She looked back at Sunny, her heart still adjusting to their revealed connection but filled with newfound hope.

"Thank you," she said softly. "For everything."

Sunny gave her a slight nod. "Get some rest, Rain. You've been through enough."

As he turned to leave, Rain called after him. "Sunny?"

He paused, eyebrow raised in question.

"I'm glad you're my brother," she said, her voice steady and certain.

Sunny stood silent for a moment before his face softened into a genuine smile. "And I'm glad you're my sister."

Rains mother watched the exchange through tear-filled eyes, joy evident in her expression. Before Sunny could leave, she caught his hand, her voice hoarse but sincere. "Thank you. We owe you so much. If there's anything—anything at all..."

Sunny's smile carried a hint of melancholy. "Just make sure Rain's happy. That's all I want. I'll be away for a while—personal matters. Take care of her for me?"

Fresh tears spilled down rains mother's cheeks as she pulled both of them into a tight embrace. The three of them, now nearly matched in height, held each other in a moment of perfect unity.

Later, as Sunny drove them home, the conversation flowed naturally between them. Rain asked about their birth parents, eager to piece together her fractured history. Sunny, in turn, questioned her about her nightmare experience, his professional curiosity evident.

What Rain described, however, made his blood run cold. Her nightmare had coincided with the battle for hope's liberation—a conflict she'd been forced to witness from multiple perspectives, unable to move or intervene. Her description of a massive four-armed creature, two meters tall with four horns and a twisted tail, matched his own second nightmare form with chilling accuracy.

As she continued describing the scenes she'd witnessed—a fighting child, a person in flight with a very powerful bow, a blind girl crashing a flying ship into a giant made of mystical metal—Sunny's unease grew. When he finally asked about her aspect, her answer filled him with equal parts awe and terror. Even her mother seemed to grasp the implications, her expression growing wary.

"Don't worry," Sunny assured them quickly, his voice tight. "I won't let her fight in humanity's wars. She'll be safe at home, away from those who'd try to use her." He paused, choosing his next words carefully. "Rain, the academy isn't an option anymore. It's too dangerous. If anyone asks about your aspect, tell them it's a weak combat ability. Nothing more."

Rain's disappointment was visible, but she nodded in understanding. They all knew the truth—someone with her power would never escape the great clans' notice if they discovered her true nature.

The car fell silent as they drove on, each lost in thoughts of what this revelation meant for their future. Sunny's grip on the steering wheel tightened imperceptibly. He'd protected her this long; he wouldn't fail her now, especially when the stakes had grown so much higher.

The setting sun painted the sky in shades of amber and purple, a beautiful end to a day that had changed everything. Rain watched the passing landscape, her mind full of possibilities and dangers she'd never imagined. She had her brother back, but with that gift came a burden she was only beginning to understand.

Sunny glanced at her in the rearview mirror, seeing not just his sister but a power that could reshape their world—for better or worse. The great clans would tear reality apart to possess such an ability. But they'd have to get through him first, and this time, he wouldn't be fighting alone.

The car continued down the darkening road, carrying its passengers toward a future suddenly more complex and dangerous than any of them had imagined. But they were together now, and sometimes, Sunny thought, that made all the difference.