In the cold light of dawn, a gargantuan crimson tower loomed above the Labyrinth like the end of the world itself. From this distance, it resembled a bloodied sword driven into the earth by some ancient titan, a monument to forgotten rage and shattered dreams.
Crimson coral streamed from the tower's impossibly tall walls like the blood of gods, spilling down to spread across the Forgotten Shore. The veins of red coral writhed and pulsed like a living thing, infecting the landscape, turning stone and dust into some grotesque blend of flesh and nightmare.
The Crimson Spire stood on what looked like an island. Around it, the cursed black sea formed an unnatural moat, an endless whirlpool that spun against reason, churning with the presence of creatures too vast and terrible to be seen fully. Shapes moved beneath the surface—colossal, mind-breaking things. The water didn't recede with the sunrise like the rest of the cursed sea. It remained. As if it too was bound to the Spire by something deeper than the Nightmare Spell.
Konrad stood at the edge of the cliff, looking up at the Cyclopean tower. It had looked fearsome from a distance. But up close? It was something else entirely.
It wasn't just oppressive. It was wrong.
It was impossible to believe that human hands had built this thing, let alone that it had once been humanity's salvation.
Now, it was twisted—corrupted by time, madness, and darkness. No longer a beacon of hope. Just a monument to failure.
Yet, despite that, there was something breathtaking about it. Something horrifying, yet beautiful. Like the moment just before a storm hits the shore. Or the silence before a fatal blow lands.
Konrad let out a slow breath and turned away.
"This is the best example of the path to hell being paved with good intentions... and poison used to quench thirst."
He muttered the words to himself, then scanned the camp stretched out below the rise.
The Dreamer Army had set camp a few hundred meters away from the Crimson Spire. They had marched for a week through the crimson labyrinth, leaving behind the Dark City and its familiar horrors. The journey had been brutal—nightmare beasts, illusions, traps, and the constant shadow of death. But somehow, they had made it. At least, most of them had.
Now, nearly a thousand damned souls stood at the foot of their final battle.
Humans.
Sleepers.
Monsters, even.
Those who still had enough will left in their hearts to challenge the impossible. Those who's heart was ablaze with hope that Changing Star showed them.
Down in the camp, people were preparing for the siege. Despite the terror of dawn when they first laid eyes on the Spire, resolve had set in. There was no turning back. All roads forward led only into hell.
Konrad could see his legionaries sharpening their weapons, checking their armor, whispering last words to their companions. Some were praying. Others were silent. Many were laughing—nervous, brittle laughter meant to hide the shaking hands.
The captains were walking among their cohorts, checking every formation, giving last orders.
The final calm before the storm.
From behind, footsteps approached. Konrad didn't need to turn. He already knew who it was.
"Sunless. Come here."
Sunny stopped beside him, one hand resting casually on the hilt of his Memory blade, his mismatched eyes watching the whirlpool surrounding the tower.
"You know," Sunny said. "It looks even worse up close."
Konrad didn't answer immediately. He just stared at the tower, then turned to Sunny, his expression grim.
"Sunless and Sevatar… I'll make sure you two reach the locks. Sevatar will hold off the lock guardians alongside Sunny's shadow. While you, Sunny insert the keys."
Sunny blinked. "Sounds easy enough."
"It won't be," Konrad replied.
"The guardians won't be normal. And the moment we start the ritual, the sea will try to devour us. And after the dark sea is vanished, the sun will try to devour us."
He turned to face both Sunny and Sevatar—who had quietly appeared from the shadows like always, his cloak dripping with moisture from the morning mist.
"You must banish the dark sea," Konrad said. "Or the siege will fail... just like the second bright lord who died all those years ago."
Sevatar nodded.
"I understand, Night Lord!"
Sunny offered a small smirk. "No pressure, huh?"
Then his expression became a bit more serious.
"…Do you think we're gonna make it?"
Konrad gave him a sideways glance, then smiled faintly—one of those strange, unreadable smiles that seemed more like a mask than anything else.
"You already know the ending, don't you? That vile girl should have told you."
Sunny looked down for a bit, then he blinked. "Did you just call Cassie vile?"
"You heard wrong. I said blind," Konrad said flatly. His face impassive, betraying no emotions.
Sevatar, without missing a beat, nodded solemnly. "True. I also heard blind."
Sunny looked between the two of them, confused. "…Did I really hear wrong?"
Confused Sunless XD!
But the other two had already turned and were walking back toward the campfires, their crimson and black silhouettes vanishing into the early morning mist.
A moment later, Sunny sighed, rubbed his temples, and walked back toward his own cohort.
Behind him, the Crimson Spire loomed in the morning sky, casting no shadow despite its enormity.
The final battle was about to begin.
And none of them would ever be the same. Just like Changing Star had said.
"The weak will die. The strong will die. And those who remains won't be the same."
***
Very soon, the sun rose higher, and the dark whirlpool surrounding the Crimson Spire became a little smaller. Several bridges of red coral rose from its depths, connecting the island to the rest of the Forgotten Shore.
And out there on the island, countless silhouettes suddenly began to move, crawling out of the crimson mounds. They were the Nightmare Creatures guarding the cursed tower.
All kinds of horrors were among them. There were members of the carapace legion: scavengers, centurions, and demons. There were colonies of carnivorous worms, giant centipedes that secreted corrosive oil, and eerie vines that crawled on the ground like snakes.
There were creatures that looked like black masses of rotten bones, and creatures that looked like humanoids made of rock, with terrible maws full of jagged fangs. There were swarms of translucent insects that devoured everything in their path and massive spiders clad in iron armor.
There were beasts that could shoot deadly bone spears from their bodies and beasts that could turn their prey to stone with their gaze.
There were corpses with red flowers growing from the holes in their flesh and giant abominations that resembled praying mantises, if those were made of glass and bloodred clay.
And many more that Konrad had never seen, fought, or could describe.
All of them moved together in strange harmony, devoid of the usual territorial aggression that forced the Nightmare Creatures of different tribes to fight each other. They were subjugated by the Crimson Terror and now served to guard the Spire.
Like a terrible wave, the horde of monsters rolled over the bridges of crimson coral and flowed toward the human army.
From his position at the back of it, Konrad could clearly see the bodies of those standing in the front line tremble and take an involuntary step back. Some sleepers even dropped their weapon. Only the Night Lords stood without flinching.
A moment later, Tessai's loud voice rolled over the rows of Sleepers:
"Stand your ground, wretches! If anyone runs, I'll kill you myself!"
Strangely, his shout calmed down the fear in the hearts of the men and rejuvenated the moral.
A moment later, however, it was drowned in the cacophony of the approaching horde.
...The battle for the Crimson Spire had begun.