Year 336 Post-Collision – Day 133 (2 Days, 8 Hours Into Dungeon)
Sunny stood at the threshold between floor twenty and floor twenty-one, staring into darkness that seemed to writhe. The air felt different here—heavier, wrong, like reality itself was thinner.
[THOUGHT DOMINION: ANALYZING BOUNDARY]
[MAGICAL DENSITY: INCREASED 300%]
[REALITY STABILITY: DECREASED 67%]
[PSYCHOLOGICAL PRESSURE: EXTREME]
[ENTERING: NIGHTMARE FLOOR TERRITORY]
[WARNING: THESE FLOORS ADAPT TO YOUR PSYCHE]
[THEY WILL USE YOUR MEMORIES, FEARS, TRAUMAS]
[NOTHING IS OFF-LIMITS]
Sunny took a breath and descended.
The moment his foot touched the twenty-first floor, the world shifted.
Floor 21: The Death That Haunts
Sunny materialized on a city street. Night. Rain falling. Neon signs reflecting off wet pavement.
His heart stopped.
He knew this street.
Philadelphia. 2019. The alley where Rajah Williams died.
[AKASHIC INTERFACE: ALERT]
[DUNGEON ACCESSING: YOUR PRE-REINCARNATION MEMORIES]
[THIS IS YOUR ORIGINAL DEATH]
[NIGHTMARE FLOOR: CONFIRMED]
[TRIAL PURPOSE: UNKNOWN]
"No," Sunny whispered. "Not this. Anything but this."
But the nightmare was already playing out.
There—walking down the street—was him. Rajah Williams at nineteen. Worn hoodie. Headphones in. Tired from a double shift at the warehouse. Walking home late because he couldn't afford a car.
And approaching from the opposite direction: three figures. Young men. Hungry-eyed. Desperate.
Sunny wanted to look away. Wanted to close his eyes. But the Sovereign's Defiance kept him conscious, aware, present for every moment.
"Yo, man," the lead figure said to past-Rajah. "Nice phone. Let me see it."
Past-Rajah kept walking. "Not interested."
"Wasn't asking."
The lead figure pulled a gun.
Sunny watched his past self freeze. Watched fear flood his younger face. Watched him slowly reach for his phone—the only valuable thing he owned, three months of saving, his connection to the world.
"Just take it," past-Rajah said, voice shaking. "Just take it and go."
But one of the other men—jumpy, high on something—misread the movement. Thought Rajah was reaching for a weapon.
Bang.
The shot echoed through the alley. Past-Rajah collapsed, blood spreading across wet pavement. The three figures ran, leaving a dying nineteen-year-old to bleed out alone in the rain.
Sunny watched himself die. Again. For the first time from the outside.
Past-Rajah's last thoughts—Sunny remembered them perfectly:
This is it? This is all I get? Nineteen years of nothing, and I die over a phone? I didn't even get to—I never became—I was supposed to—
Death. Darkness. Nothing.
Then: the Leviathan's abyss.
The scene froze. Asmodeus's voice spoke, gentler than before:
"FIRST NIGHTMARE: CONFRONTING YOUR ORIGINAL DEATH. MOST CHALLENGERS WHO REINCARNATED SUPPRESS THESE MEMORIES. BURY THEM. PRETEND THEIR FIRST LIFE DIDN'T MATTER. BUT YOU REMEMBER IT PERFECTLY, DON'T YOU?"
"Every second," Sunny said quietly, staring at his dead past-self. "Every pointless, wasted second."
"DO YOU REGRET IT? THAT LIFE?"
"I regret dying for nothing. I regret never mattering. I regret being so fucking small." Sunny's fists clenched. "But I don't regret the life itself. It taught me what I didn't want to be. It taught me that obscurity is worse than death. It taught me—" His voice broke slightly. "—it taught me to refuse. To refuse being nothing. To refuse staying dead. To refuse every force that says I don't matter."
The frozen scene began to dissolve.
"GOOD ANSWER. MANY WHO REINCARNATE TRY TO ERASE THEIR PAST SELF. YOU INTEGRATED IT. MADE IT PART OF YOUR STRENGTH. THIS IS PSYCHOLOGICAL HEALTH MOST CHALLENGERS LACK."
"FLOOR TWENTY-ONE: PASSED."
"THE NIGHTMARES WILL GET WORSE."
Floor 22: The Leviathan's Test
Floor twenty-two manifested as the abyss. Pure, crushing darkness and pressure. Water filling every space, forcing its way into lungs, breaking bones with weight alone.
Sunny was three years old again. Helpless. Drowning. Dying repeatedly as the Leviathan tested him.
"SMALL THING," her voice resonated through the water. "YOU STOLE FROM ME."
He knew this memory. Had lived it thousands of times. But experiencing it again, with full consciousness—
The drowning. The breaking. The rebuilding. Over and over. Three years compressed into subjective eternity.
And the worst part: the moments between drownings where she spoke to him.
"DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHY I DO THIS?"
Infant-Sunny couldn't answer. Could barely think through the pain.
"BECAUSE THE WORLD WILL BREAK YOU WORSE THAN I EVER COULD. BECAUSE IF YOU CANNOT SURVIVE MY DEPTHS, YOU CANNOT SURVIVE REALITY. BECAUSE I AM CRUEL ONLY TO MAKE YOU STRONG ENOUGH TO MATTER."
"BECAUSE I CARE, SMALL THING."
"IN MY WAY."
The nightmare played out fully. Every drowning. Every reformation. Every moment of agony that forged his Claimed Demigod Physique.
Until finally—the memory reached the moment he survived. The moment the Leviathan stopped breaking him and started teaching him.
The scene froze.
"SECOND NIGHTMARE: YOUR CLAIMING. THE TRAUMA THAT DEFINES YOU. MOST WOULD CALL THIS ABUSE. TORTURE. CRUELTY BEYOND MEASURE. WHAT DO YOU CALL IT?"
Sunny stood in the abyss—older now, his real nine-year-old body—and looked up toward where the Leviathan's presence dwelled.
"I call it necessary," he said. "She didn't break me for fun. She broke me because that's what I needed to become this." He gestured to himself. "Everything I am—every impossible thing I've done—started in that abyss. Yeah, it hurt. Yeah, it was trauma. But it was also transformation."
"DO YOU FORGIVE HER?"
"Forgive?" Sunny considered. "That implies she did something wrong. She claimed me. Tested me. Made me hers. That's what primordials do. I don't need to forgive what was always meant to be."
The abyss dissolved.
"YOU HAVE MADE PEACE WITH YOUR TRAUMA. INTEGRATED IT RATHER THAN BEING RULED BY IT. THIS IS WISDOM BEYOND YOUR YEARS."
"FLOOR TWENTY-TWO: PASSED."
Floor 23: The Ants Who Died
Floor twenty-three manifested as Blackshore's central square. But wrong. Destroyed. Burned.
And scattered across the ground: ant corpses. Hundreds of them. Named and unnamed. All dead.
Burgundy's body lay at the center, carapace cracked open, mandibles frozen in a final scream.
[AKASHIC INTERFACE: ANALYZING]
[SCENARIO: CONSTRUCTED FUTURE]
[SHOWING: WHAT HAPPENS IF YOU FAIL]
[NIGHTMARE: YOUR PEOPLE DYING BECAUSE YOU WEREN'T STRONG ENOUGH]
Construct-Elena stumbled from a burning building, bloodied, dying. "You weren't there," she gasped. "When Lord Castor came. When the dungeon overflow happened. You were here, in this tower, pursuing power while we died."
Construct-Marcus lay against a wall, impaled by debris. "We trusted you. We believed you'd protect us. You failed us."
Construct-Nina—small, innocent Nina—lay still beside Burgundy's corpse, eyes open and empty.
"THIRD NIGHTMARE: THE COST OF YOUR AMBITION. WHILE YOU PURSUE POWER HERE, YOUR KINGDOM IS VULNERABLE. WHAT IF THIS IS HAPPENING RIGHT NOW? WHAT IF YOU CHOSE WRONG?"
Sunny stood among the corpses of everyone he'd sworn to protect, feeling the weight of possibility.
[THOUGHT DOMINION: ANALYZING SCENARIO]
[PROBABILITY THIS IS REAL-TIME: 0.003%]
[BLACKSHORE IS FINE]
[THIS IS FEAR-BASED MANIPULATION]
[BUT: THE FEAR IS VALID]
[PURSUING POWER DOES HAVE COSTS]
"This could happen," Sunny said quietly. "If I miscalculated. If I left them too vulnerable. If I was wrong about the timeline." He knelt beside construct-Burgundy's body. "But I'm not wrong. I left them defended. I prepared supplies. I established protocols."
"BUT WHAT IF YOU WERE WRONG?"
"Then I'd live with it. I'd rebuild. I'd continue." Sunny stood, facing the devastation. "Because the alternative—staying weak out of fear—guarantees failure. If I don't become strong enough, they die anyway. Just slower. More certainly."
"COLD LOGIC."
"Necessary logic. I care about them. That's WHY I'm here. To gain power they need protected by." Sunny's voice hardened. "You're testing if I'll break under guilt. I won't. Because guilt without power is useless. I'll feel guilty AFTER I'm strong enough to prevent this scenario from being real."
The corpses dissolved.
"PRAGMATIC TO THE POINT OF RUTHLESSNESS. BUT INTERNALLY CONSISTENT. YOU'VE CALCULATED THE COSTS AND ACCEPTED THEM. THIS IS TRUE KINGSHIP—THE ABILITY TO MAKE HARD CHOICES AND LIVE WITH CONSEQUENCES."
"FLOOR TWENTY-THREE: PASSED."
Floors 24-30: Rapid Nightmares
The nightmare floors came faster now, each one a compressed psychological assault:
Floor 24: Watching the Leviathan reject him, calling him unworthy, saying she regretted the claim. Sunny responded: "Then I'll be worthy without you. Your rejection doesn't erase what I've become."
Floor 25: Every civilian he failed to save in previous battles, accusing him. Sunny: "I mourn you. But I won't let guilt paralyze me. Your deaths fuel my determination to save the next ones."
Floor 26: A perfect life where he never died, never reincarnated, became successful as Rajah. Then having to reject it. Sunny: "That's not me anymore. I'd rather be this impossible thing than that mundane success."
Floor 27: The Editors offering a deal—erase his Ultimate Skill, return to normal power scaling, avoid deletion risk. Sunny: "No. I'd rather risk deletion as something impossible than survive as something ordinary."
Floor 28: Everyone he ever named losing their intelligence, reverting to base instinct, blaming him for false elevation. Sunny: "I gave you choice. If you regret it, that's valid. But I'd make the same choice again."
Floor 29: His own future—becoming a tyrant, losing his morality, ruling through fear. Sunny: "Then I'll establish checks against that. Create systems that limit my power. But I won't stop pursuing strength because I might become corrupt."
Floor 30: The Coalition calling him monster, organizing to eliminate Blackshore. Sunny: "Then I'll prove I'm not a monster through actions, not words. And if they don't believe me, I'll be strong enough that it doesn't matter."
Each floor took one to three hours. Each was psychologically brutal. Each was overcome through absolute conviction and pragmatic self-awareness.
By floor thirty, Sunny was exhausted—not physically, but mentally. The constant assault on his psyche, the forced confrontation with every fear and trauma and doubt.
But he was still standing. Still advancing.
And Asmodeus was clearly impressed:
"THIRTY FLOORS. YOU'VE SURPASSED CAPTAIN VERA'S TEAM. YOU'VE HANDLED EVERY NIGHTMARE I'VE THROWN AT YOU WITH REMARKABLE PSYCHOLOGICAL RESILIENCE. YOUR SENSE OF SELF IS ALMOST IMPOSSIBLE TO SHAKE."
"TWO MORE NIGHTMARE FLOORS. THEN THE SOVEREIGN TRIALS BEGIN."
"THESE LAST TWO WILL BE THE WORST."
Floor 31: The Ultimate Synthesis
Floor thirty-one materialized as the ritual circle in Blackshore—but during the Ultimate Skill synthesis.
Sunny watched himself from outside, performing the collective magicule draw, attempting to create Sovereign's Defiance.
But in this version, it failed.
The synthesis collapsed. The backlash killed him. And the wave of destructive energy—18,000 magicules destabilizing simultaneously—annihilated every ant in Blackshore. Every citizen. Everything.
The entire kingdom: gone. Because he attempted something impossible.
Then the floor reset. Showed the same moment. But this time, the synthesis succeeded—and the Editors deleted him anyway. Classified him as too dangerous. Erased him from existence while his ants watched helplessly.
Reset again. This time: success, survival, but Continuity Debt spiking to 95%. Living every day knowing deletion could come any moment. Paranoia destroying him slowly.
Reset again. Success, but the power corrupting him. Turning him into the tyrant from floor twenty-nine.
"FOURTH NIGHTMARE: YOUR GREATEST GAMBLE. THE ULTIMATE SKILL SYNTHESIS THAT COULD HAVE FAILED IN COUNTLESS WAYS. YOU SUCCEEDED—BUT WHAT IF YOU HADN'T? WHAT IF THE 47.3% FAILURE RATE HAD WON?"
Sunny watched iteration after iteration of his defining moment going wrong.
"But it didn't," he said finally. "I calculated the risks. I accepted the consequences. I attempted it anyway. And I succeeded. Dwelling on alternate timelines where I failed is pointless."
"YET YOU LIVE WITH THE KNOWLEDGE THAT IT ALMOST DIDN'T WORK. THAT 47.3% CHANCE OF TOTAL FAILURE. DOESN'T THAT TERRIFY YOU?"
"Every day," Sunny admitted. "But terror doesn't matter. Results matter. I'm here. The synthesis worked. The ants evolved. Blackshore survived. Past-me made the right choice."
"AND WILL FUTURE-YOU MAKE SIMILAR GAMBLES?"
"Absolutely. Because calculated risks that succeed are how impossible things become real. I'll keep betting on myself until I'm proven wrong." Sunny looked at the failed versions of himself. "And if I am eventually proven wrong—if I finally fail a synthesis and it kills me—at least I'll die pursuing the impossible instead of accepting the mundane."
The iterations faded.
"UNSHAKEABLE CONVICTION IN YOUR METHODOLOGY. GOOD. KINGS WHO SECOND-GUESS THEIR BOLD CHOICES ACCOMPLISH NOTHING."
"FLOOR THIRTY-ONE: PASSED."
"ONE MORE NIGHTMARE. THE DEEPEST ONE."
Floor 32: The Mirror
Floor thirty-two was empty. Just a room with a single mirror.
Sunny approached cautiously.
His reflection appeared—but it wasn't him. It was Rajah. Nineteen years old. Wearing the same hoodie from the night he died. Looking at Sunny with resentment.
"You wear my face," reflection-Rajah said. "You use my memories. But you're not me. I died. You're some reincarnated thing that stole my identity."
[THIS IS INTEGRATION NIGHTMARE]
[TESTING: ARE YOU RAJAH OR SUNNY?]
[IDENTITY CRISIS]
[DEEPEST FEAR: THAT YOU'RE NOT REAL]
"I'm both," Sunny said. "I'm Rajah who refused to stay dead. Rajah who got a second chance and took it. Rajah who became Sunny Blackshore."
"Bullshit," reflection-Rajah spat. "I'm dead. You're a parasite wearing my corpse. When that Leviathan pulled 'you' from wherever reincarnations come from, original-Rajah was already gone. You're a copy. A fake."
"Maybe," Sunny acknowledged. "Does it matter?"
"Does it—of course it matters! I died for nothing! You get to be this impossible thing while I'm just forgotten!"
Sunny looked at his reflection—his past self's rage and pain and fear made manifest.
"You're not forgotten," he said quietly. "Everything I am builds on everything you were. Your frustration with being ordinary? That's my drive to become extraordinary. Your death meaning nothing? That's why I make every action count. Your wasted potential? That's why I refuse to waste this chance."
"Pretty words."
"True words." Sunny stepped closer to the mirror. "I'm not trying to erase Rajah Williams. I'm trying to fulfill him. To become what he wanted to be but never got the chance to pursue. You wanted to matter. So I matter. You wanted to be remembered. So I'll be remembered. You wanted to mean something. So I mean everything."
Reflection-Rajah stared. Silent.
"I'm not your replacement," Sunny continued. "I'm your continuation. Your second draft. Your do-over where you get it right. We're not separate. We're the same person who got a literally impossible second chance and decided to never waste it."
"DO YOU BELIEVE THAT? TRULY?"
Asmodeus's voice, gentle now. Almost kind.
"Yes," Sunny said. "I'm Rajah who became Sunny. Sunny who remembers being Rajah. Both. Neither. A synthesis of what was and what is. And I'm okay with that."
The reflection smiled—genuinely. "Yeah. Okay. I guess if someone had to live the life I couldn't... I'm glad it's you. Me. Us. Whatever."
Reflection-Rajah faded, looking peaceful for the first time.
The mirror dissolved.
"FLOOR THIRTY-TWO: PASSED."
"YOU'VE CONFRONTED EVERY NIGHTMARE. INTEGRATED EVERY TRAUMA. ACCEPTED EVERY COST OF YOUR CHOICES. YOUR PSYCHOLOGICAL FOUNDATION IS SOLID."
"THE NIGHTMARE FLOORS ARE COMPLETE."
"REST NOW, CHALLENGER. TOMORROW, THE SOVEREIGN TRIALS BEGIN—THE FINAL TEST BEFORE YOU FACE ME."
A safe room appeared. Real beds. Real food. Real rest.
Sunny collapsed onto a bed, completely drained. Not physically—his body was fine. But mentally, emotionally, spiritually exhausted from confronting the deepest parts of himself.
He'd conquered thirty-two floors in three days. Surpassed Captain Vera's team. Handled every nightmare Asmodeus threw at him.
Seventeen floors remained. And based on the Djinn's tone, those would be the hardest yet.
But tonight, he could rest.
Tomorrow, he would face the trials that tested not just who he was, but who he could become.
[END CHAPTER 30]
[FLOORS CONQUERED: 32/47]
[TIME ELAPSED: 3 DAYS, 14 HOURS]
[NIGHTMARE FLOORS: COMPLETE]
[PSYCHOLOGICAL RESILIENCE: PROVEN]
[ASMODEUS'S JUDGMENT: "EXCEPTIONAL MENTAL FORTITUDE"]
[NEXT: FLOORS 33-40 (SOVEREIGN TRIALS)]
[THEN: FLOORS 41-47 (FINAL TRIALS)]
[THEN: ASMODEUS HIMSELF]
[DJINN EQUIP: VERY CLOSE NOW]
[ESTIMATED COMPLETION: 4-6 MORE DAYS]