No Bounds

Truly, a treachery that knew no bounds. Sunny had succumbed to the Defilement and betrayed the cohort, only to betray them once again once they were made into the Six Plagues by him. Killing one of his masters in the process and weaving countless schemes to destroy the other.

He... did not really know how to feel about it. Was he supposed to be proud of or appalled by his former self?

'I might... have to stop resenting the Spell for calling me that.'

In any case, he felt a deep sense of regret. 

Because he wouldn't be able to strangle the mad bastard with his own two hands.

Sunny sighed.

Well, there it was. The truth. 

Of course, there were still many things that made little sense, or no sense at all. The most obvious of them, of course, was the paradoxical existence of the Six Plagues, who had not only traveled to the distant past of the River Civilization, but also lingered in the Tomb of Ariel despite the start of a new cycle.