Chapter 626: Debt
Sunny read and reread the called ID, eyes curved steeply in determined acceptance. The vibrations of his phone sent a chilling reminder down his arm of the various possibilities that may await him.
Very rarely was it that Sunny found his death to be the least of his concerns. This is one such terrible instance.
He was likely to face the whole of the being who had enslaved him, ground his face into dust, crushed his eyes into paste, and had the hedonistic audacity to twist his spite and bend it until it was nothing.
Despite being forced to stare such a possibility to death, he had to confront an uncomfortable truth.
Running away wouldn’t solve a thing.
Sunny needed power. The kind of power that would let him stand in the face of overwhelming might unyielding.
He needed information. The knowledge that would destroy all possible realities until they converged into one, undeniable and predictable to him and him alone.
Kafka said that she and the two other female members of the Stellaron Hunters were going to hunt something down. What that something was couldn’t be a major concern for him.
It was the inevitable conflict he expected between them and that something.
Sunny needed to see Firefly’s Aspect in combat. He knew her runes, sure, and thus knew what to generally expect, but the exact result was something that couldn’t be conveyed through the Nightmare Spell’s — frankly — limited descriptions. His own shadow was only referred to as an ’invaluable helper’, something that couldn’t possibly all the possibilities contained within his Dormant Ability, from augmentations and scouting to the summoning and amplification of Shadow Creatures.
As long as he knew what he was dealing with, he could slowly look into a countermeasure. If he couldn’t find one, than he could at least have a better feel of Firefly’s capabilities in case of a direct confrontation.
In all honesty, Sunny chirping at the mention of a Supreme Memory was all a ploy to ensure that Kafka didn’t suspect anything. He didn’t know if the arachnid-like woman would pick a side if it came down to it, or if she even cared at all beyond slaving away for Elio’s Scripts, but he’d rather keep as many variables as he could out of his little war.
...Still, Sunny found himself having second thoughts. Not due to his Shadow Bond situation, but, well...
When he put himself in Herta’s debt by anchoring March and himself at her Gateway, he hadn’t thought much of it.
After all, what could someone who was leagues more powerful than Sunny possibly need his help with?
But, after hearing Kafka bring up the very real possibility of dying, he couldn’t help but increase his nervous expectations. What kind of abomination needed the the collective might of a Saint, an Ascended Titan, and whatever badassery Silver Wolf had going on just to kill it?
Grimacing from anxious carefulness, Sunny hesitated to answer the call.
’Ugh...’
With a weighty sigh, Sunny mechanically pushed his paranoia away, thumb rigidly pressing against the answer button.
Let it be known that Lost From Light always paid his dues, whether they were in malice or kindness.
As he raised the phone to the side of his head — not that he needed to, with his Ascended hearing — Sunny heard the dry, self-centered, and surprisingly natural voice of the queen of all narcissists.
"Brat. I’ve got a job for you."
Sunny frowned in unconcealed annoyance, not quite appreciating the tone this hag was taking with him.
"Is that any way to greet someone?"
"I’ll greet the insolent, lazy swine who has barely touched my Simulated Universe however I want, Brat."
Sunny opened his mouth to retort. He closed it. Then, he opened it again, about to use his linguistic talents to shock Herta so hard she’d develop Alzheimer’s or whatever old people get.
...He couldn’t come up with anything.
Luckily, Herta came up with that something for him:
"Well, it doesn’t matter. I’ve already arranged for you to make up for all that wasted time. You’re free, I presume?"
He moved to say yes—
"Actually, it doesn’t matter. I need you to be a bodyguard for two colleagues of mine for the next week, and if you can’t spare the time, well boohoo I’ll make you do it anyways. Understood?"
Stunned into noncompliant silence, Sunny’s mouth stupidly hung open until he mustered just enough control to reply.
"I-I, um, yeah, sure. Are you going to give me the deets, or am I going to be left hanging to figure it out mysellf..."
Herta’s haughty voice echoed with indignation.
"Just who do you take me for?"
He hadn’t exactly intended to annoy her or be sarcastic in any way, but damn. If he didn’t ride the ragebait, how could he call himself Sunny?
"Someone who doesn’t show her face, despite constantly telling others about how much of a beauty she is. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that’s your Flaw!"
Sunny smiled in satisfaction. There truly was nothing better than being a pest to others. He basked in this haze of self-indulgence, wondering what kind of comeback Herta was going to violently fire at him.
He waited for a few moments.
Then, a few more.
He heard Herta click her tongue.
"...Tch. Let’s just get to business."
Sunny raised a brow, and underwent a short series of contemplations which surrounded her lackluster reaction, but he decided that he didn’t really have any complaints.
"Sure, go ahead."
Herta made a sound of approval.
"Good. I’ll keep this short; I’m short-handed at the moment."
Sunny considered her words for a second, before frowning.
"Don’t you have your puppets to handle everything for you?"
It confused him. Each of her puppets exuded the presence of a Saint — for that reason, he theorized that Herta may have been a Sovereign — which meant that even a single one of her puppets could probably muster the combat strength needed to fulfill whatever Herta wanted Sunny to do.
The moment he asked that question, however, he felt an ominous aura permeating from the other side of the phone.
"Oh, I would, I would have... unfortunately, it seems like I need all the help I can get, because a certain SOMEONE thought it was the greatest idea in the convoluted history of mankind to bring that no-good, disgusting, evil, odious, vile chicken to my abode because he couldn’t run away properly."
Herta’s voice raised with poorly hidden malice in the midst of her monologue. Then, with a cough, she continued.
"The point is that it’s all hands on deck for me, and I can’t postpone what’s happening at the Space Station any longer. Projects and whatnot. You’re not a genius like myself, so you wouldn’t be able to even comprehend it."
"Uh-huh. So, I’m bodyguarding your colleagues?"
"Mostly. Both of them are fellow geniuses. And when I say that, I mean they’re also part of the Genius Society. Pathstriders of Erudition, if you can even recall that."
Sunny deadpanned. She really thought him unable to connect the dots, huh?
"Yes, I know."
"Sure. Anyways, I need you to ensure that nothing happens to the Space Station or anyone in it until more permanent accommodations are settled. I have a Saint coming in to handle everything while my presence is missing, but as I mentioned, he won’t be there until the week is up, give or take. Conflict of schedules, and all that."
It seemed that Herta was going to be relying on the assistance of her puppets for longer than Sunny had expected, then. Moreover, her two guests seemed more like they were moving in rather than visiting...
Herta continued as Sunny surfed through his thoughts.
"It shouldn’t be anything difficult. Just stand around and be... well, try to be imposing. Nobody outside the Space Station has the gall to try and raid it, unless they’re the Antimatter Legion or something, and the researchers inside have enough manners to not start a fight. If anything does happen, just try to solve it as nonviolently as you can."
Sunny pursed his lips in wonder.
She really jinxed it, didn’t she? He was completely screwed, now.
Herta continued to speak.
"The room I saved for you in case you joined is still there, so you can use that since you won’t be able to go home for a while. Asta will hand over a keycard that should give you access to most of the Space Station. Don’t expect anything of Arlan, since he’s a security guard in name only. Heh, my puppets handle most of the work in that regard."
Sunny thought he heard a sound of realization through the phone, but that would be ridiculous.
"Oh, speaking of, you’ll be working alongside another Ascended. I had the sole Prince of Song in my debt, and managed to poach one of their princesses to work here for a bit. Together, you should mostly make up for one Transcendent. Whatever you do, don’t make her your enemy, else she’ll ruin your life."
He heard her snicker, as if she was already enjoying an event that hasn’t even happened yet.
Sunny, however, was sweating bullets. He wasn’t nervous because he was about to meet royalty — he did fight Morgan to the virtual death, after all — but the fact that Herta felt the need to bring someone from the Great Clan Song to help him. Or for Sunny to help her? Whatever.
The Great Clans have stood at the pinnacle of Awakened society since the dawn of the Spell, an entire seventeen thousand years and counting. They produced some of the first Awakened. The first Masters. And the first Saints... maybe even the first Sovereigns. It was inarguable at this point, for Sunny to assume that Valor, Song, and the House of Night all had their own Supremes.
Naturally, the children of these legendary figures received the best training, the most luxurious arsenals of Memories and Echoes, faced the most difficult First Nightmares and received more potent Aspects in return...
And inherited the blood of the Gods.
Although Sunny was thoroughly convinced that he was likely superior to them due to the Rank of his Aspect, the complex versatility that came with it, and his adaptive battle art, he was aware that, assuming that they were of the same Rank, he was not that much more powerful.
In comparison to the rest at their level, at least.
Herta was right to assume that Sunny and a scion of Song were likely able to somewhat compete with a Saint. Assuming they weren’t actively sabotaging each other, but Sunny doubted they’d be that incompetent.
The fact that Herta felt the urgency to call one of the Song Sisters to assist with this was terrifying him. It terrified him almost as much as how mind-boggled he found himself to be after hearing that she had one of the many siblings in her debt.
He didn’t know if that was the usual for Supremes, but Sunny couldn’t help but focus on the bad vibes he was feeling. It was the kind of thing that told him that he was going to get violently fucked.
Sunny gulped:
"Mind telling me more about this Song lady? And your two pals..."