Shadow Slave

"W-what... what do you mean, dead? That is impossible."

Sunny looked at her silently, and then shook his head.

"This is the era of the Nightmare Spell. Anything is possible, and terrible things are doubly possible. In fact, they are all but inevitable. We were lucky to get out in time, but the others were not. That is all there is to it."

His voice was full of grounded confidence, but in fact, Sunny felt very unsettled. He was not entirely sure if he was trying to convince Beth, or himself.

Professor Obel, who had been born during the Dark Times and lived through the horrors of the First Generation, seemed to understand what Sunny was trying to say. He must have experienced many such calamities throughout his long life, and lost a lot of friends. His young assistant, however, did not.

Looking at Sunny with a pale face, she forced out:

"B-but..."

He interrupted her.

"Don\'t think about it too much. Concentrate on your own survival instead. We are not out of the woods yet, and what is to come is far more important than something that is already over. And it is over."

With that, the conversation died down. The previous lively atmosphere disappeared as if it had never existed. Sunny studied the faces of people gathered in the lounge area, and then stood up.

He did not really want to console and manage anyone\'s feelings right now. They were all adults... actually, he was the youngest person here, so why was he the one who had to take care of everyone?

Well... because he was in charge, both in terms of power and authority. And with those, uninvited, also came responsibility.

\'...Ugh. How irritating.\'

Sunny hesitated for a few moments, and then said:

"The best way to honor those that are gone is to make sure that we don\'t follow them. So, rest well and gather your strength. I\'ll keep watch outside."

He sighed and walked away, leaving them behind.

Climbing to the roof of the Rhino, Sunny commanded Saint to dismiss Morgan\'s Warbow and summoned it into his own hands. Then, he shivered, enveloped by snow. Chilling wind howled through the rusted frame of the ancient war machine, the remains of which rose from the ground like the bones of a giant beast. Even though staying outside was cold and uncomfortable, right now, he preferred it to being in the company of other humans. There was a lot for him to think about.

Observing the surrounding area through the senses of his shadows, Sunny closed his eyes.

There was no way back, and the path ahead was dangerous and unclear. Remaining in this spot was not at all safe, as well.

Funnily enough, the unnatural blizzard not only made it harder for humans to see the approaching Nightmare Creatures before they launched into a frenzied attack, but also hid them from the sight of the abominations. Unless a swarm stumbled directly on the rusty wreckage, it would pass by this shelter without catching the smell of human souls inside.

That, at least, played in Sunny\'s favor.

Before he knew it, his thoughts wandered back to the lost personnel of LO49.

Fourteen hundred people... sixteen, even, if he counted those that had died in the weeks before. Just like that, so many lives had been lost.

It was... expected, actually.

With a strange grimace, Sunny remembered hearing about the Chain of Nightmares from Master Jet for the first time. Back then, he was rather callously indifferent. What did the fates of humans in Antarctica have to do with him? Their number was much higher than fourteen hundred, too. There were seven hundred million people living in the Southern Quadrant, and he had not been inclined to give a damn about a single one. At least not enough to risk his life over it.

He was still indifferent.

Seven hundred million was too large of a number to conceive of. It was too distant and abstract. When speaking about millions of people, people stopped being people and turned into numbers. Sunny did not wish them ill, but he also could not bring himself to care about mere numbers.

But soldiers and civilians that had died in LO49 were different. Even though fourteen hundred could not compare to seven hundred million, to him, they were real. He had lived with them, shared bread with them, and fought side by side with them. He had come to know them as people, and not numbers.

So, their deaths affected Sunny much more than the potential evisceration of the whole quadrant. Knowing what he knew now, he couldn\'t help but see the First Army and its mission in a different light.

...There would be much more death, for sure. The government had an ambitious goal of evacuating the whole continent, but their plan was already bursting at the seams. Many more people were going to die. Millions of them. In the end, how many of the seven hundred million would be saved? Six hundred? Five? Even less?

Of course, he had no way of knowing.

So... how did it make him feel?

Was he outraged? Motivated? Burning with resolve? Did he find conviction?

Not really.

Letting out a bitter breath, Sunny whispered:

"Such a waste..."

All he felt was contempt. It was such a waste, all of it. Of human lives, resources, and potential. It made him sick to know that the world was gobbling up so much...

While the people who could have prevented it from happening were too busy fighting among each other. Those bastards.

In the end, all Sunny could do was follow his advice and concentrate on himself, and that which belonged to him.

He couldn\'t save seven hundred million people, but he could make sure that he, his soldier, and civilians in his care would make it to the other side of this disaster alive.

That, at least, he could possibly manage.