When hell stands empty and demons walk the earth, churches are overflown with the desperate masses.
The divine spirits remain silent, and their followers are like lambs born in darkness. Without proper guidance, they remain pure and innocent, even when they commit sins.
They keep repeating the same thing, but I guess that's preaching... The same sermon with a fresh coat of paint. What's even the point?
Enough, stop talking like you were here for faith or something. By the way, you gotta stop taking more "sacred teachings"... Your "stigmata" is turning black.
Where else is there to go? The fog rolled in and shut down the docks. Now the ships are just glorified bird nests.
What about Minnie's? Almost every waitress there has been my fiancee at some point, and there's no need to commit if you don't tie the knot.
Why not hit the black market? Or visit the clinic for an IV drip? What about that doctor with the wooden leg? You should chat her up more... You might score a discount on your next injection, hahaha!
Don't even mention that bizarre woman. She gives me the creeps.
Getting involved with her is only going to get me killed and turned into a little puppet in her display case.
I'll wave at you when that happens. "Hey, pal!" I'll even ask our dear doctor to turn you into a puppet too, so you can keep me company. How does that sound, pal?
Sigh, prices for Phantom Dream have gone up again. Those uptown folks buy it by the crate, injecting it day and night. They won't wake up even when their veins harden.
In a big city like ours, even a nice dream comes with a hefty price tag.
That's why we might as well listen to the free sacred teachings. As long as we get a jab at the end.
One little prick, and whatever dream you dream is so much better than the real world. That naval battle in my last dream was absolutely thrilling, let me tell you...
Alpha conceals herself among the crowd waiting for the sermon. As she hears the part about the clinic, she gently touches her blade—she doesn't appreciate how the sailors gossip about the doctor.
A woman wearing a clean, simple dress leans sideways toward Alpha, cradling an infant in her arms. She occasionally rocks the swaddled baby, her face tense with worry.
I live quite far from here, so I set out at dawn. Thankfully, I didn't miss anything.
My child has been ill for so long and won't get better. I heard the Holy Maiden here works miracles...
A draft blows through the hall, lifting a corner of the swaddling cloth. Alpha briefly notices bare bones underneath the cloth before the woman hastily covers her child again.
I am here for my family.
Seeing how the woman stares at her with suspicion, Alpha elaborates.
My sister suffers from an unknown affliction. I'm here to pray for her.
Ah, and I thought a fine lady like yourself would be free from such troubles.
Calamity follows like a shadow on the path through the rose garden of death. Be patient and never surrender, and you shall bathe in divine grace at the end.
Reciting a verse from the scripture, Alpha taps her shoulders and forehead before joining her palms, having made the shape of a cross. The woman responds with the same gesture.
Remembering her appointment with someone else, Alpha quietly slips away from the crowd. Avoiding the guards, she reaches the church sacristy with a few jumps.
There is already a visitor inside the room. A nobleman flips through a booklet as he waits for a private audience with the Holy Maiden.
This endless fog... If this were an opera, the opening number alone would be legendary.
Unfortunately, this is our reality, and it's absolutely dreadful.
Cut to the chase and say something useful.
Roland slides Alpha the booklet, which contains transcribed information about the Holy Maiden.
<i>Mia was born blind and earned her living as a laundress. She died during the plague before rising from the dead.</i>
<i>Upon waking up, she not only regained her sight but displayed knowledge of numerous sacred texts and performed several miracles, including healing the sick and communicating with the dead.</i>
<i>Later, Mia underwent the Church's trial, venturing alone into the Mist for seven days. After returning safely, she was officially endorsed as the Holy Maiden.</i>
<i>Currently, she operates primarily from the church in the city, preaching salvation while performing miracles through "sacred teachings" that bestow holy blessings upon the faithful.</i>
If only she were truly as miraculous as they claim.
The merciful divine never grants miracles this easily. When they happen, they tend to appear amidst trickery.
You talk too much.
Aren't we supposed to have a friendly, collegial chat? Hmm, Countess? Lady Crimson?
...
At least tell me why you're here. As the guarantor for the Crimson Countess, I'll be dragged down with you if something happens to you.
They sent me to confirm whether the Holy Maiden is an Aberration.
Aberrations are those who traverse the Mist unscathed. The chroniclers call this calamity the "Divine Punishment". Humanity is born into primordial sin with no escape, but [Aberrations] are exempt from this fate.
As the absolved, Aberrations may possess great powers—or none at all.
Only one Aberration has been officially documented and publicly acknowledged—Countess Alpha.
She earned her title "Crimson" through bloodshed, and one can only imagine the unspeakable carnage she has witnessed.
So, is she one?
Roland adjusts his cuffs with feigned indifference, his eyes fixed on the scene outside as a rare sharpness lurks behind his gaze.
The Holy Maiden wears an embroidered robe so expansive that it requires seven to eight people just to carry its train. Meanwhile, her throne is excessively adorned with gold accessories from top to bottom.
She carries herself with such practiced extravagance that it is hard to imagine that she was a laundress with roughened hands just months ago.
No, she isn't.
Her real name is Zoya Nevaliya. No matter how many years have passed, her face and name remain etched in Alpha's memory like an inscription on a tombstone.
The tombstone bears the names of two sisters, {226|153|166}{226|153|166} & {226|153|166}{226|153|166}{226|153|166}. The inscription is blurred, visible only to those who lived through it.
It hurts so much, Sis. Where's Mom? I want her here.
Mom... is waiting for us up ahead. Be good now. We'll go find her soon.
No! Mom is going to get upset and blame me. I didn't listen and did something bad. She won't want me anymore.
A crimson moon hangs in the sky, but Lucia can't tell if it's reflecting the bloodstained ground, or if blood has blurred her vision. They weren't orphans just a few hours ago.
No matter what happens, don't come out of the cabinet.
No, don't open the door, please... Lucia, I... I'm not who you remember anymore.
Don't... don't trust anyone except each other from now on, not even Mom. It might be a trap.
I'm a-about to... I wish I could see you both all grown up. Don't cry, my sweet girls. Don't let them see your tears.
The moments after that blur together. Sounds of slaughter continue outside, as their entire world shrinks to nothing but the rhythm of each other's heartbeats.
Luna has never been so quiet, her eyes shut tight and her teeth clenched to stifle any sound, even as her illness flared up. Lucia doesn't know what to do, only feeling her sister's body grow increasingly limp.
She is going to lose Luna at this rate, and she can't bear to lose anyone else. She has to get Luna's medicine from the living room.
Lucia, where are you? Luna?
Music box, ribbon, red, brought back... a gift. Medicine, take medicine... my sweet girl needs her medicine.
It's Dad, Sis. Dad's back.
Lucia cautiously pushes the cabinet door open a crack. Their father lunges forward instantly, pressing his face against the gap to peer inside. His sharp nails wedge through, clawing at the opening as he salivates.
Don't... don't trust anyone.
That thing isn't their father, but an otherworldly monster wearing his face... After somehow escaping him, they run an immeasurable distance until they can't take another step.
What a pity. We're too late. Nearly everyone in this block is already dead.
You still want to find children? Even if there are any left, they've probably mutated by now. Where would you even look?
Help her, please. Help my sister. She's sick.
Please save her, Mother Superior. She needs her medicine. Please help her. I'll do anything you ask.
Luna is afflicted with mutism after she wakes up. Every day, she listens to her music box, as if this birthday gift provides her peace. She was supposed to start school after her scheduled surgery this fall... If only...
Be honest with Mother Superior, Lucia. What really happened in the Mist? Was someone helping you two?
People always invade privacy under the pretense of concern, but their eyes always reveal their true intentions.
I don't remember.
The opportunity to live in our convent is a precious one. We only shelter children of noble character.
If you keep this up, I'll have no choice but to ask Luna instead.
Luna doesn't remember either.
I know you both suffered greatly, but if you don't tell me what happened, I won't know how to help you.
Won't you trust Mother Superior? You can call me Mom if you want. You and Luna are my children in my heart.
I would sacrifice everything for you both.
Lucia stares into her eyes until she feels a chill creep down her spine, forcing her to back down from the confrontation.
You may go now. Good girl.
We're short on food. Starting today, you and Luna will receive only one meal per day. You'll also be responsible for your own chores.
Yes, Mother Superior. As you wish. Good day to you.
Lucia turns to leave, gripping the railing with a cold response before heading downstairs.
You are not my mother, nor Luna's. We had a mother, and she has gone to the beautiful kingdom of heaven.
The nun struggles to maintain her composure until the girl has disappeared down the hallway. She immediately loses control, sweeping everything off the table and shattering expensive porcelain.
We can no longer afford Luna's medication, so I need to find her a better place. By the divine's grace, there happens to be a generous couple who cannot have children of their own.
The "couple" came to the convent to see the children. They looked like characters from a fairy tale, with their blonde hair, abundant wealth, and perfect relationship.
I can't lose Luna. I'll work harder, eat less... whatever it takes.
But we have no more work to give you. Would you let Luna die because of your selfishness? Sometimes, letting go brings more than holding on, doesn't it? My child.
Besides, Luna has already agreed, and she quite likes her new parents. Perhaps Luna doesn't care for you as much as you think. You know it yourself... you're not exactly a lovable person.
Lucia's lips quiver, unable to form words. She looks away, fighting back tears.
The Mother Superior feels an inexplicable satisfaction. She thoroughly savors Lucia's vulnerable pain as if tasting sweet honey.
She expects Lucia to yield, to beg or show weakness. But the child says nothing in the end, merely bowing before walking away.
The day of Luna's departure arrives. She folds her bedding neatly and sits cradling her tiny suitcase, waiting for the car to come.
The moon remains bitter and quiet like a silent mother. Before she leaves, Luna presses against her sister's back like a small animal seeking comfort.
I won't be a burden anymore, Sis.
Don't look back at me, Sis. I won't be able to let go. My heart aches knowing I'll never see you again.
Don't... don't trust anyone.
Eight children. Eight gold.
You brought that sickly one too? The experiments are rigorous, and she won't last long. She shouldn't take up a slot.
Then dispose of her here. I won't be taking her back with me.
What about her sister? Why didn't you bring her? That child shows great potential.
Next time. That child makes me uncomfortable. I don't want the two of them together.
Let her believe her sister went to a better place. She can hold onto that thought until she dies and realizes she was deceived. Wouldn't that be nice?
Pathetic. Even a human disguise is excessive for someone like you.
My dear colleague, I'm only delivering them here. Aren't you the ones who actually send them to their deaths?
How many futures have you crushed with your own hands for that so-called "grand ambition" of yours?
Luna won't be going with you, whatever you're doing.
How did she get here?
Lucia emerges from the shadows, her body covered in blood and dust. She was clinging to the vehicle, burning her hands on a ventilation pipe.
When the vehicle slowed down entering the complex, she jumped off, crawling along the tire tracks and under the chain link fence. A guard dog managed to bite her foot, but it paid a much higher price.
Now that you're here, there's no way out for you.
They are that wealthy merchant couple. The "husband" raises his hunting rifle and aims it at Lucia.
Either I shoot you dead, or you stay and participate in our research.
Lucia considers for a moment. She feels no pain, only complete and utter numbness.
How much is a child worth? What price did this nun sell us for?
One gold coin. Five grams of pure gold, government-minted and traceless.
Give it to me. I'll charge one gold for both Luna and me, and I'll join your "research." I came here myself, so the money should go to me, not that woman.
I only have one condition. Luna will stay with me, no matter what.
Sounds fair. Deal.
You're not even going to ask what kind of research it is?
The "husband" lowers his rifle and takes a small pouch from his "wife," inside which are gold pieces that resemble full moons. He weighs them briefly before selecting a relatively good one and placing it in Lucia's palm.
So this is the blood money Luna and I are worth? It's quite beautiful.
It's alright. I can pry it from your corpse after you're dead.
That should be my line to you. Tell me your name. I want your real name, Mother Superior.
Zoya Nevaliya. Remember it well, you mongrel.
Very well, Zoya Nevaliya. We've traded our lives with blood and gold. I swear I'll cash in this gold for your life one day.
Then we'll be square, for your sin of trying to harm my sister.
Will I get you into trouble if I kill someone in front of the church?
Be honest. Do you really care whether I live or die, Alpha?
Just like I don't care whether that woman downstairs is the Holy Maiden, an impostor, or an Aberration. She could be anything, or she could be nothing.
What matters is that when the chips are down, there's still only one Aberration, and she's allied with me. That's the best play.
If Aberrations were handed out like rations, how would I be any different from a police commissioner? So no, there won't be any trouble. None at all.
I'd be delighted if you could kill her. As for why you'd do it, I couldn't care less.
Every conversation with you gives me new insights into the noble houses.
Don't be like that, Alpha. Think of your title! You're one of us now.
As long as we are allies, you needn't concern yourself with these convoluted power struggles. Even your occasional killings will be cleaned up for you.
When the fog finally lifts, I hope you won't be the first to send me to the gallows.
You'll see, Alpha.
Time will prove that I am a far more loyal ally than you expect.
