My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

He opened his eyes, wearing the same indifferent expression he had worn when something reached for them.

Damon wasn't fazed. He was just tired—too tired to even feel afraid.

Still Damon was too broken to fight and too sane to scream.

He hadn't yet healed emotionally or mentally. Not enough to feel those things again.

Still, his gaze came back into focus. Ignoring the pain, he scanned the surroundings quickly, searching for Matia… but she was nowhere in sight.

And then—his heart recalled what fear felt like, regardless of how tired he was.

"There's no need to worry."

A familiar voice. Female.

Valarie…

He turned his bleeding head toward the source of the sound.

But instead of a disembodied pair of lips…

He saw her—a beautiful woman with long golden hair and deep blue eyes. Her aura was calm, her armor faintly reminiscent of Evangeline's. She radiated warmth and kindness, yet her form was almost translucent—barely clinging to the physical world.

He didn't need a name. Her aura alone told him everything.

Valarie Sunwarden.

She smiled softly, her upper lip more corporeal than the rest of her glowing, ghostly form.

"If you're looking for Matia… she sank into your shadow."

Damon glanced downward.

…And felt her there.

Yes. She was fine. Resting.

He slowly laid back down on the corrupted ground. Its filth clung to his long hair like tar.

His body was far from pristine—dirt, soot, grime, dried blood… he was caked in it.

He would need a long bath to even begin cleaning it off.

Still, he remained there, his expression tired… indifferent.

His heart was calm despite the scream buried inside it. Maybe this silence… this numbness… was the only way he could endure the weight pressing against his soul.

Stalwart and unshakable—perhaps it was a new defense mechanism.

"The view down here is quite bleak, isn't it…"

He nodded at Valarie's words, saying nothing. There was something strangely beautiful about the sky… or the lack of one. Those mouths above—gaping, watching—almost looked like constellations in reverse.

"I'm scared of the darkness," Valarie whispered after a pause.

"I hadn't been when I was a child… but after leaving that cathedral, I realized I had become afraid."

Damon didn't respond. He merely listened.

"I had been there for many, many years… eaten away by corruption."

She glanced at him, saw his tired face, and offered him a gentle smile.

"I grew tired too. At first, I endured. Then… I went mad. Then I became sane. I repeated the cycle—again and again—for thousands of years. One day… I just grew tired… and I stopped caring."

Damon blinked slowly, his gaze drawn to the ascendant's figure. To someone who had endured beyond what should be possible.

"I have long outlived my lifespan. But I wasn't alive to begin with. I had long since died. Still, I endured…"

Damon didn't understand. So he asked the only question that mattered.

"…Why?"

She turned to him.

"I do not know. But my time there taught me… I am afraid. Not of darkness. Of loneliness."

That—he understood.

Her loneliness cried loudly, even when it had no voice.

He was a loner too.

But for someone whose attribute was sunlight… that was a strange fear.

He tilted his head at her.

"Lysithara was beautiful," she said suddenly. "We changed the world in more ways than one. We made a place where anyone could learn, in a time when knowledge was hoarded. Only the rich and privileged could access it—but we did something different."

She smiled, bittersweet.

"Everyone was welcomed. Regardless of race, status… we created a panacea."

A long pause.

"But we destroyed that beauty with our greed."

She glanced at Damon, who only listened.

"Can I ask for a final favor… from someone far past her time?"

He nodded slowly.

She smiled gently.

"Can you build something?"

He looked at her, puzzled.

"…What should I build?"

She shrugged.

"I don't know. Build something beautiful."

"…I don't know what beautiful looks like," he said after a moment. "I only recognize ugliness."

She brushed her glowing hair aside with a faint, nostalgic smile.

"Lysithara was beautiful. Build something we'd both think is beautiful."

Damon's dull eyes flickered faintly.

"Something beautiful…"

She reached for his hand and pulled him up to his feet.

"Can… will you do that for me?"

He paused. He knew what she was trying to do.

She was trying to give him hope.

Still, he nodded.

"I will."

She smiled wider.

"Is that a promise, then?"

He nodded again, solemnly.

Even though he still didn't know what that would look like.

"…Yes. I promise."

She looked skyward.

"It's almost here… hold on tight. I'll take you out of here."

From the sky, a brilliant light descended. It plummeted like a comet—but gently. Only when it neared did Damon see its shape.

It was the other half of Valarie's lips.

The final part of her.

He turned to her, alarmed, as her body ignited in radiant light.

"What are you doing… Valarie…"

She smiled, that same gentle, motherly smile.

"If you children leave… I'll be lonely. I don't want that. So with my last light… let me give you a miracle."

Her body glowed brighter, and they began to lift slowly from the filth-ridden ground.

"The time I spent with you all… were the best I've known in many millennia. Don't be sad… my wayward student."

Damon bit his lip. He nodded, and Valarie held his hand tighter.

Her body was only spirit now, but somehow… she felt warm.

Her hand shimmered—and from that light, a sword formed.

A sword of sunlight.

As she rose to face the sky, still holding Damon's hand, he watched her with one tearful eye.

Then… something emerged from the blackness.

A creature—formed from the countless mouths in the void.

"…Who are you…?"

The horror's voice was a chorus of whispers.

But Valarie smiled. Her light cut through the dark. And as her radiance spread, the eternal battle between nightmares and monsters paused—all turned to look upon her.

She raised her blade, glowing like a second sun.

"I am Valarie Sunwarden," she said.

"The last Ascendant."