Resolution

Irritation bristled Nico's skin as he exited the castle courtyard, a scowl marring his eerily perfect features like a smeared canvas. Blinding spirit pain throbbed behind his skull.

The [Silver Wraith]'s full suit manifested from a storm of sparks, wrapped around him completely, grim engravings etched into silver, dark cloth buried underneath. Plumes of white mist wept from the armor's seams — white, ghostly, and soothing. Everything was swept away in its shroud, and every one of his features were obscured. All that was left was a knight clad in bleak, fitted steel, chainmail snaked underneath, gauntlets poised like the claws of some ancient devil.

His thoughts echoed baritone in his mind:

'Emotions...'

They were irrational. They clouded truth. Two times he'd forced himself to bear them to understand his companions, and each went miserably. Now, he had no reason for them. All that was left was to gather strength. As much of it as he could. Either Kido would be convinced of his power in time or not. There was no point fretting over the outcome.

Instead, there would be action.

'I need to hunt more. More Awakened creatures. The Dark City is insufficient.'

It was a strange, inane idea in most circumstances. The Dark City was teeming with tens of thousands of monsters sprawled out across the dilapidated ruins and malformed structures. But, it was true. In the crimson labyrinth beyond the colossal city walls, myriads of abominations — almost all Awakened — dwelled. Furious combat was waged between species during the day, and desperate concealment was undergone to avoid the night, praying the attention of the depth dwellers passed by without trouble.

With his Specter and the various applications of his Dormant Ability, he stood a decent shot of felling large groups of them alone. While enthrallment was a useful power within the Dark City, he had some ideas to test out there, as well.

The ghost of a plan formed in his mind — a terribly bold, but highly rewarding plan.

'I'll leave by the end of the week,' he declared after entering the castle's gatehouse, clarifying the finer details of his grand idea as he walked.

Immediately after the door clicked open, two guards' eyes gleamed, and they went to check the visitor, only to freeze, caught between the snare of cowardice and duty. The lieutenant... he wasn't in his right mind today. Hunger, power, and dread radiated in the air; even before they saw him. Then, without realizing it, a statue cast in metal brushed past them.

The courtly air of the stone room seemed to shift, becoming tense and stale. The desk boy slouched in his seat and scribbled furiously on his ledger, as if hoping it might make him appear smaller. By the time the two men regained their bearings, Nico was already pushing open the marble gates, his ghostly armor framed in rays of sunlight and bleached marble.

"S—Sir Nico!" one of the men stuttered, shouting for a reason unbeknownst to himself. "Gunlaug call for you!"

The lieutenant's body stilled. His head tilted back dangerously, ethereal fog swirling in the visor of his helmet. A voice cold as winter broke through the air:

"What for?"

The other guard gulped, hand gripped onto his weapon's hilt for some sort of purchase, then added hesitantly:

"Someone has invoked the right of challenge. He requested you be found and brought to him before lunch."

Nico didn't move for a few seconds. Then, he released his weight from the gate. It fell back into place with a loud boom that echoed through the ancient stones. His boots thumped against the floor as he returned back to the entrance.

The Castle Guards involuntarily exhaled.

Sparring no mind to the shivering messengers, he exited the room a moment later, gone as quick as he had come.

***

Before long, Nico had reached the back entrance tucked deep within the Host's marked grounds and descended into the dungeon of the Bright Castle. He passed the morbid cells, following a path that led him under the throne room, dark stones and distant light to lead his way.

Despite the seeming severity of the situation, he wasn't worried. Kido's emotions had told him she held no ill will. This, most likely, was just as the guards described — a trial.

When he rounded the last corner six figures were revealed, hovering at the end of the hall just outside the circle of light above the stairway.

It'd been a long time since he'd seen them all gathered in one place. Kido, usually whimsical, with her short stature, appeared grave. Gemma was beside her, similarly serious. Giant Tessai however almost appeared amused, and Harus himself was expressionless.

Seishan, his adopted sister, appeared as she always did in the presence of the other castle members. Cold, inexorable, and mysterious — a gorgeous woman without fault and beholden to duty. Nobody seemed as at ease as her except perhaps the Bright Lord. He, of course, was draped in his golden armor once again and always. Nobody truly knew what he looked like under it besides perhaps those he knew from before, and those he had entertain him.

The gilded man shifted to greet him. His deep, serpentine voice vibrated from all directions:

"Ah, how pleasant of you to join us, Nico. Welcome. It is a lovely day for justice, is it not?"

The others turned in wake of his acknowledgment, all but Harus and Seishan regarding his armored body and wispy frame with subtly unnerved expressions.

"Lovely, indeed," he replied, passing them and taking the first step up the stairs.

***

Sunny was in a dour mood after breakfast. That man, Nico, had unsettled him. The night before he had managed to send his shadow out, building a vague understanding of the political and power structure of the Bright Castle for himself. At the top, the lieutenants. Six powerful Sleepers who answered only to Gunlaug. Yet, while all their duties each seemed appropriate, only Nico's made no sense. Even Harus, the butcher, seemed in line with Gunlaug's regime. But Nico? No. It wasn't in the Bright Lord's best interest to aid the slum dwellers, and certainly not by sending only a single lieutenant there.

Then there were the words he had said to him.

The question he had asked...

'He knew. He had been able to sense my Shadow Core.'

Still, there wasn't much cause for worry. He didn't know what it meant; only that it was there. Sunny's facade as a harmless Sleeper was still intact, albeit under suspicion.

But yet, he was curious. What was the lieutenant's ability? Was it some sort of sixth sense like his one for shadows? That would mean his Aspect was related to souls, and that was a powerful ability to have. Could he decipher Memories?

Sunny sighed, looking longingly at the counter where their portion of monster stew would be served.

"At least there's food," he mumbled.

Then, a horrible premonition struck him, and he turned towards the entrance just in time to see a torrent of guards burst inside. Fear struck him. Had his espionage not gone unnoticed? Had the lieutenant, Seishan, really sensed his shadow enough to pinpoint him?

But no, his worries were for naught. The Castle Guard merely dispersed across the room, sliding the tables back to the walls and ushering people to their seats until, a few minutes later, a vast clearing was left at the center.

Sitting on one of the seats within the spread-out crowd, Cassie grasped his shoulder and whispered:

"What is going on?"

Sunny hesitated, then answered uncertainly:

"I'm not sure…"

Suddenly, he caught sight of Caster standing among the crowd. The handsome young man had a solemn look on his face. His gaze was turned to the dark alcove at the far end of the hall.

One by one, all the Sleepers turned to face the same direction. Sunny followed their example.

Slowly, six figures stepped out of the darkness of the alcove and stood at the steps leading up to the throne. They were Gemma, Tessai, Seishan, Kido, and the last two of the five lieutenants.

An involuntary shudder ran through Sunny's body when he noticed them.

Nico, once having appeared regal, collected, dressed in pleasant dark garb, was now draped in silver like some sort of twisted knight. He was a different person in his armor — imposingly tall, strangely lean, and eerily graceful.

And most definingly, the earlier mist he had thought he saw clung to him ominously, emanating something other. Something powerful.