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Nahuh

Nahuh

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2023-11-19 JoinedGlobal
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SHADOW SLAVE THE REBORN

Alright, I’ll rewrite this into a clean, immersive Shadow Slave–style passage, keeping the tone tragic, introspective, and mythic—very much in Guiltythree’s voice, but still clearly a fanfic. I’ll also smooth the grammar and elevate the phrasing without changing your intent. He closed his eyes for what he believed would be the final time, surrendering his body to Master Sunless, fully accepting that this would be his end. The Mad Prince knew he would die no matter what choice he made. After all, he was mad—unshackled from reason, unmoored from sanity. And madness, more often than not, led only to failure. Especially when one was forced to fight not an enemy… but oneself. No matter how desperately he struggled, success was impossible. Even with all his power, even with countless years of experience carved into his soul, the outcome could not be changed. How could it be? What use was power when it could never be wielded in full? What meaning did experience have when fate itself stood as the opponent? He was fighting himself. The Mad Prince and Master Sunless were not the same—yet they were not truly different either. In the end, both were Lost from Light, born of shadows. The rightful heir of death… and the bastard son of fate. So he welcomed oblivion. Or at least, he thought he would. Imagine his surprise when, instead of nothingness, he opened his eyes to a sight both alien and hauntingly familiar. A jagged, lonesome peak rose before him, dwarfing all other mountains in the chain. Its razor-sharp edges cut into the night sky like a wound carved into the world itself. Above it, a radiant moon hung silently, bathing the slopes in pale, ghostly light. The air was cold. Heavy. Alive. He knew this place. His heart sank. It was his first Nightmare.

Nahuh · Book&Literature
2 Chs