Shadow Slave

"Are you sure? This place has been swept multiple times before we arrived."

Sunny nodded.

"He is here. Underground."

She looked down, her face slowly turning somber.

"...Well, I guess we should go and say hi."

Sunny nodded and made a step toward the door of the small office. However, she suddenly stopped him.

"Wait."

He looked at her with a bit of confusion.

"Yes?"

Master Jet hesitated for a few moments. There was a complicated expression on her face. Finally, she said:

"There are very few people with a shadow affinity Aspect in the world, and even fewer who frequent places such as this."

Sunny frowned.

"What are you trying to say?"

She looked at him darkly.

"I\'m saying that I might know this guy. In fact, when I heard that there was an incident in the Slaughterhouse, I already had a suspicion of who was responsible."

He blinked a couple of times.

"You know the murderer?"

Master Jet shrugged.

"There are hundreds of thousands of Awakened in the world. That seems like a big number, but in fact, it is not. If you live long enough, sooner or later, you will know of everyone who is worth knowing… more or less. It\'s a small world."

She paused for a moment, and then added:

"Point is, if I am right, then this will be dangerous. This guy is not someone who has spent his whole life behind a Citadel wall. He is… was the real deal. A specialist."

Sunny glanced at the five Hollows, then frowned slightly.

\'A specialist… what a peculiar word.\'

But he understood what Master Jet had meant. Most of the Awakened were thrust into the Spell and tried desperately to survive, striving to return to a semblance of a normal life. A much smaller amount, for whatever reason, embraced their new nightmarish reality and adapted to it… even thrived in it. They shaped their lives to suit the deadly challenge of the Nightmare Spell, and not the other way around.

Sunny was one of these specialists himself, after all.

"If he is such a specialist, then how did this mess happen?"

Master Jet shook her head.

"Who do you think are the most compromised Awakened? Folks who spent as little time as possible in the Dream Realm and then return to their actual lives? No, it\'s people like us, the professionals."

He thought on it for a bit, then said with confusion:

"I don\'t get it… even if he is a seasoned fighter, so what? You are an Ascended. Surely, dealing with him will be easy."

Master Jet shook her head.

"Nothing is ever easy, Sunny. That is a mindset that will get you killed. No matter how powerful you are, one mistake is all it takes. Raw power doesn\'t always decide the outcome of the fight. You should know this already… every Aspect has a Flaw, and every power has a counter. So keep your guard up."

Sunny had to agree that she was right. His own experience served as the perfect proof. Harus had died by his hand because Sunny\'s Aspect was a perfect counter to his formidable Ability, and Caster had been undone by his Flaw.

He remained silent for a few moments, and then said:

"When we confront this guy, pay attention to your shadow. Don\'t let him get anywhere near it."

Master Jet frowned, and then gave him a simple nod.

Together, they returned to the dance hall, and then found another heavy metal door. Behind it, a narrow staircase led further down, to the underground arena.

The arena itself was larger than Sunny had imagined, and looked more like a luxurious theater than a fighting pit. The rows of seats were furnished with red velvet, and there were private boxes for the most affluent of the visitors. The arena itself resembled a stage and was surrounded by a protective barrier fashioned out of transparent alloy.

The whole space was sparsely illuminated, with deep shadows nesting between the areas of light. Still, one could more or less see everything.

Master Jet studied the interior of the arena, then said quietly:

"There\'s no one here."

Sunny lingered for a moment, then walked over to a control panel hidden in one of the boxes and moved several switches.

A moment later, bright spotlights ignited on the ceiling, flooding the arena with a bright radiance. The wave of light chased away the shadows, and suddenly, a figure of a man could be seen in the very center of the stage, sitting on the floor with his face buried in his hands. Previously, that place had seemed to be utterly empty.

The man grimaced, and then raised his head to stare at the lights with a dark expression. A hoarse voice resounded in the silence of the underground theater:

"Bastards… why can\'t they just live me alone…"

The murderer was around thirty, with a gaunt unshaven face and bloodshot eyes. There were several used stimulant packs lying on the floor around him, as well as shards of a broken liquor bottle.

His clothes, hands, and face were covered with blood, but the man didn\'t seem to mind.

Blocking the light with one hand, he lowered his gaze and slowly focused it on Master Jet and Sunny.

A hint of recognition slowly appeared in his eyes, which was then replaced with contempt.

"...Is that you, Soul Reaper? Hell… they sent the attack dog herself after me? Ha! What an honor…"

Sunny sighed inwardly.

What was it with people and calling others dogs? He really didn\'t get it. Dogs were marvelous creatures, from what he knew. Of course, only the rich could afford to have one. Dogs were the rich man\'s best friend…

Jet took a step forward, piercing the man with a cold, cold gaze. The murderer shivered.

"Hi there, Kurt. Long time no see."

After hearing her voice, the man called Kurt suddenly grinned.

"Yeah... long time indeed. You got really full of yourself lately, haven\'t you, Jet? Funny that a government lapdog like you finds it beneath herself to associate with upstanding people like me. Back in the day, you at least knew how to show respect, bitch."

Ignoring his insult, she smiled, too.

"...Do you even understand what you have done, Kurt?"

The grin disappeared from his face. As Sunny and Jet slowly walked toward the arena, he furtively looked away.

"What, that mess upstairs? Ah… shit, who cares? They were just cattle, anyway. Mundanes only exist to produce more of us, right? So what\'s the big deal..."

Sunny\'s eye twitched.

\'He\'s a proper bastard, isn\'t he?\'

Master Jet, meanwhile, stopped smiling.

"...I care, Kurt. I care."

He suddenly laughed.

"Wait… wait, you\'re being serious? You\'re really going to do the whole thing? I\'m getting the full parade? Fuck, that\'s hilarious!"

Suddenly, an ugly expression appeared on his face.

"Have you forgotten who you are, Jet? Gods, did becoming a Master give you that big of a head? Come on… we all know who you work for, and who I work for. You\'ll still be a Master when I am a Saint, wench."

He glanced at Sunny, and then added in a mocking tone:

"Look, you even had to bring a kid to help you out. I guess no adult is willing to get your stench on them."

Then, Kurt got a bit serious and stared at Jet darkly, deep shadows slowly gathering around him.

"Look… I get it. I fucked up. So let\'s have it. Give me a slap on the hand, on be on your merry way, alright? I\'m having a really hard day as it is... we all know that you won\'t dare to do more, anyway."

Master Jet tilted her head a little, and then said with amusement:

"Ah, but that\'s where you\'re wrong, Kurt. I do dare. Yeah, we both know who I work for, and who your sorry ass works for. But, the thing is… I don\'t give a damn."

She chuckled and outstretched one hand, as if ready to summon her weapon.

Kurt laughed again. This time, however, his laugh was a bit desperate.

Then, he looked down and whispered:

"Ah, well. Not like it matters, anyway. You know about the Obel scale, so why even bother? Nothing will change…"

He remained still for a moment, and then suddenly exploded with movement.

…After that, everything happened very fast.