“Rest well now, child," whispered the darkness. "Your torment is over. Stay here with me, unhurt and at peace.’
But Rime refused.
“Your world is too dark, it is too quiet and hollow. Out there are vast oceans, boundless heavens, and flowers that bloom in the light. | want to swim in the oceans and conquer the heavens... | want to explore all of existence and gather all flowers, to bask in the beauty and enjoy pleasant scents."
“The flowers are bristling with thorns," pleaded the darkness. "The oceans are cold, and the heavens are empty. Your life was short and brutal — and now, it has come to an end. Stay with me, child. Do not refuse my embrace.’
But Rime laughed.
“The thorns are what make flowers beautiful. Cold is what makes warmth desirable. An end paves the way for a new beginning. Even if I can find peace in your arms, Shadow, I want to leave. I want to live, no matter how much it might hurt."
The voice of the darkness grew cold then, turning into a terrible hiss, "But you are mine now, child. You belong to the shadows. lam Death, and no one escapes Death... not even a foolish spirit like you."
It was then that darkness became her chain, and solace became her collar.
Peace became a prison.
Time flowed, and the world slowly changed. Only silence remained the same.
Shadow refused to let Rime go...
So, in the end, she shattered the walls of his realm and escaped into the light.
That was how the Demon of Repose, who had been the first one to die, became the first one to escape Death as well.]
Sunny stared at the runes, drawn into their meaning.
‘Rime, the Demon of Repose... so she was the one who had escaped the Shadow Realm...’
As expected of a daemon. The relationship between her and Shadow God was... strangely ambiguous. It was very interesting, too.
All of it was terribly interesting.
However...
‘Where the hell is my Lineage?’
Why would Weaver leave behind noting but a strange fable on the silk scroll?
Frowning, Sunny brushed his hand across the runes.
And there, almost by accident...
He sensed a subtle irregularity.
It was so minor that anyone else would have missed it. But Sunny's fingers had been unnaturally sensitive ever since he assimilated Bone Weave, so he felt the difference in the weave of the silk under a short set of runes.
‘Oh?'
Just three words.
Sunny traced them with his fingers.
[..A new beginning.]
And as he did, it was as if a nebulous voice resounded in his ears, making him shudder. He froze, realizing what this hidden message was.
It was...
It was the will of Weaver, the Demon of Fate, woven into the ancient scroll by their hand. Once Sunny realized it, the remnant Will of the treacherous daemon surged, reshaping the world to match it.
In the reshaped world, his own Will was different from before.
He had absorbed the Spirit Weave.
‘Wow. I didn't even pass out this time.'
Just as Sunny thought that, a wave of indescribable agony washed over him like a tide...