912 Soul of a Man

The first infected was a young solder from Sergeans Gere's unit. The other two were refugees - a man in his thirties and a woman who seemed enough to be Sunny's grandmother.

All three were outside the usual age for a Sleeper, but the soldier, at least, was young and strong. He had a higher chance of survival, from what Sunny could tell... not that anyone knew a lot about how and why people survived the First Nightmare. It was a mystery why the Spell had eventually settled for teenagers of about sixteen to eighteen years old after devastating the First Generation indiscriminately.

But even back then, younger people had been more likely to survive. Humans might have not known the reason, but they were very good at gathering statistics.

Perhaps it had something to do with the soul. Some believed that it was hard for a soul to form a stable core after becoming set in its ways... so, a situation was possible where an older person could survive their Nightmare, only to die anyway after their soul collapsed while trying to create a core.

'That hardly seems fair...'

But fairness was a human concept, in the end. The Spell had its own principles, which did not always coincide with what humans considered just.

...Currently, the soldier and the male refugee were stirring, as if on the cusp of waking up. Sunny observed them from above, holding the Moonlight Shard in his hand.

He was strangely fascinated.

To his eyes, the changes happening to the souls of the Sleepers were revealed in detail. The weak, faint golden light inside them was swirling and moving, caught in the throes of a growing turmoil.

Sunny had gone through the process himself, many times. However, he had never seen it happening in front of him, to someone else.

Right now, the souls of the two humans were weak and... insubstantial. They were more like an idea of something than an actual thing. They were alive, and had shadows, but that was pretty much it. However, through a mysterious process, the formless state of a mundane soul was being galvanized, slowly creating a more solid shape.

A soul core was not a soul. Rather, it existed within the soul, serving as both its fulcrum and nexus. At least that was how Sunny perceived it. Encompassing a core granted a lot of benefits to a soul, but it also placed a burden on it. Not every soul was powerful and vast enough to sustain one, let alone several.

The proof of it was the terrible pain he went through every time his Class rose.

Regardless... both the soldier and the civilian seemed resilient enough for the task at hand. The faint golden light saturating their bodies grew slightly brighter, and in it, streaks of a stronger radiance appeared. These streaks flowed to their chests and swirled, slowly merging into spheres of brilliant light. The whole process seemed miraculous.

As the two spheres grew fuller and more defined, the familiar shapes of two soul cores started to emerge from the brilliance.

But then, there was a change.

The nascent soul core of the young soldier exploded with a flood of ethereal flame, which rolled through his body as a radiant wave, rejuvenating it.

The civilian, however...

As Sunny watched with a bleak expression, a seed of darkness appeared in the center of the forming core. It quickly expanded, spreading like a cancerous growth. Repulsive veins of darkness spread through the dying light, consuming it.

The more of the light was consumed, the faster it spread.

'...Corruption.'

Sunny was almost certain that this was what he was observing. A living being succumbing to the Corruption. The Corruption had existed long before the Nightmare Spell, and although he did not know its source and purpose, he knew that it was an enemy.

The enemy, perhaps.

Sunny suspected that he had once come very close to becoming corrupted himself, on the second level of the Ebony Tower. The terrible rot that had eaten through Weaver's arm and forced the cunning daemon to sever it... had it not been the same thing, only in a far more pure and harrowing form?

As Sunny watched, revolting tentacles of the Corruption spread through the body of the man, becoming one with it.

Then, the body started to change.

The skin turned dark, and the teeth suddenly elongated, piercing through his lips. The bones cracked, rearranging themselves...

Before anything else could happen, though, the narrow blade of the Moonlight Shard pierced the man's chest, going straight through his heart. The forming soul core, now parasitized by the Corruption, was torn apart. The grotesque body convulsed and grew still, its last breath escaping as a hoarse groan.

Sunny sighed and looked at the dead man with regret.

After a while, he whispered:

"Rest well, now. Your Nightmare is over..."

'Find peace within me.'

Sunny lingered for a few moments, then glanced at the other one. Everything seemed to be going fine for the young soldier. His soul core was all but formed, as there were faint streams of weak essence coursing through his body. The body itself was being rebuilt by it, growing healthier and stronger... getting one step closer to perfection.

Before too long, the convoy would welcome another Sleeper.

Sunny remained motionless for a while, then dragged his chair closer and sat down, dismissing the Moonlight Shard. Several shadowy tentacles rose from the ground and dragged the corpse of the unfortunate refugee away.

Come to think of it, they were not too practical for such tasks... a simple tentacle was the easiest shape to create and demanded the least essence to maintain, but came short in terms of function and versatility. Maybe he needed to come up with a better shape.

In any case, for now, all Sunny could do was wait.

Suddenly, he felt very tired.

By that time, the first of the shadows had already returned from its trip to the peak of a nearby mountain, so he closed his eyes and observed the infirmary through it.

A minute passed by, then another. Then, a few more. Everything was quiet.

...Some time later, the soldier slowly opened his eyes. A hint of consciousness returned into them, and the young man looked around in confusion.

The scarcely lit room, the rusted metal walls, the three makeshift cots, one of them drenched in blood... and a pale youth sitting on a luxurious wooden chair, as if on a humble throne.

The youth seemed almost like a human... was he human?

His eyes were closed. Was he alive, or was he a corpse?

...Was he both alive and a corpse?

And that moment, Sunny said:

"What are you looking at?"

The soldier flinched away. Then, shivering, he asked something stupid:

"..Am I dead?"

Sunny frowned.

Well, it was not surprising that the guy was confused. He had been lost in the First Nightmare for several days. For all the poor fool knew, the convoy should have been still driving toward LO49, racing to rendezvous with the Ariadne. He had slept through the meeting with the Irregulars, Sunny assuming command, and the short journey to the bunker.

To him, everything would appear strange and frightening.

With a sigh, Sunny opened his eyes, leaned forward... and then slapped the soldier across the face. Not too hard, but just enough to feel it.

As the young man yelped and grabbed his cheek, Sunny shook his head.

"Would it hurt like that if you were dead? You're not lucky enough to die, fool. Welcome back to the waking world, Sleeper... uh... whatever you name is..."