The stones beneath Sunny's feet trembled.
Ice shattered, bodies crumpled, and the chain lurched violently, dragging him forward as panicked slaves scrambled for escape.
The Tyrant had arrived, grotesque limbs flexing, five pale eyes sweeping the battlefield with eerie indifference.
Sunny moved before he could think, sidestepping just before the broad-shouldered man was torn apart beside him.
A flicker of unease passed through him.
Not fear.
Something else.
Something too familiar.
The battle escalated with merciless speed.
Slaves fell. Blood sprayed. The air filled with agonized screams as the Tyrant tore apart anything within reach.
Sunny navigated the chaos with unnatural precision, avoiding strikes by a hair's breadth—yet it wasn't luck.
It felt predetermined, as though his body already knew what would happen.
His breath hitched.
Future Sunny did nothing—but his presence lingered.
Faint.
Silent.
Just enough for uncertainty to slip through the cracks of fate.
Auro arrived, blade flashing, movements sharp and decisive.
There was no hesitation in him.
No uncertainty.
Only skill.
Sunny's pulse quickened.
His fingers twitched.
His mouth moved before his thoughts caught up.
"A weapon."
Auro paused.
The hesitation was brief—barely a second—but Sunny noticed it.
Not much.
Just enough.
Then, without a word, Auro threw him the keys—along with a dagger.
Sunny caught them, gripping the blade tightly.
His chest felt strangely hollow.
Shifty begged.
Scholar pleaded.
Sunny felt nothing.
Not his own nothing—but something else.
Something foreign.
His grip on the dagger tightened.
Blood splattered across the ground.
Shifty twitched.
Scholar barely made a sound.
The Spell spoke.
[You have slain a dormant human, name unknown.]
[You have slain a dormant human, name unknown.]
Sunny exhaled slowly.
Future Sunny didn't react.
But the weight remained.
The Tyrant roared, thrashing against the chains.
Auro and Sunny moved together, throwing the length of metal forward, wrapping it around the monster's neck.
Their coordination was flawless.
Too perfect.
But only Sunny noticed.
A flicker of unease ran through him as his body adjusted—as though he had already done this before.
Future Sunny remained silent.
Yet something lingered.
Just a faint feeling.
The wagon lurched.
The chain tightened.
The Tyrant fell.
Auro exhaled.
Sunny didn't.
Because he already knew.
It wasn't dead.
Auro turned to him, eyes sharp.
"It's over," he said.
Sunny remained silent.
Something cold settled in his stomach.
Auro frowned.
"You don't think it died?"
Sunny stared at the abyss, barely blinking.
"It fell before."
Auro hesitated.
"And you think it'll survive again?"
Sunny nodded.
His voice didn't waver.
"It will."
Auro studied him for a long moment.
Then, slowly, he nodded back.
****
The fire crackled against the bitter wind, its glow barely enough to ward off the cold pressing into their skin.
Sunny sat apart, dagger resting in his lap, fingers absently tracing the edge of the blade.
Auro sharpened his sword, the rhythmic scrape against the whetstone the only sound between them.
Future Sunny watched.
Everything had changed.
"You knew it wasn't over."
Auro spoke without looking up, eyes focused on the steel in his hands.
Sunny didn't blink.
"I did."
Auro's sharpening slowed.
"You also reacted quickly."
Sunny met his gaze.
"So did you."
Auro studied him in silence.
"Not like that," he said eventually.
Sunny tilted his head slightly, watching the flames.
There was no accusation in Auro's tone.
Just curiosity.
Just observation.
Sunny exhaled.
Auro frowned slightly, but said nothing.
Then, without a word, he resumed sharpening.
Future Sunny remained silent.
Past Sunny tightened his grip on the dagger.
Somewhere beyond the mountain, the Tyrant still lived.
And fate was no longer what it was supposed to be.