The employee was surrounded by many people in thick armor. Each one carried a large nail in one hand and wielded a massive hammer in the other. It seemed almost impossible to hold it with a single grip.
"Hear me, Großhammer. There are no more shadows of heresy found in this area." One of them approached the employee to report.
"…. You may return." The employee, referred to as Großhammer, exhaled gently. Even if his voice was always aloof and low, his breath trembled slightly. His words were reflected by the mask that always covered his face, giving his voice a holy-sounding echo.
"But what about you, Großhammer…"
"I have a duty I have yet to fulfil, for it was the One Who Grips that ordered it."
The other employee was silent for a few seconds, knowing that voicing his opinion would not always be accepted. If ever. "If that is what the One Who Grips wishes."
As such, all the other employees left the place, leaving the employee alone in this place filled with corpses.
"Huff…."
The employee removed his mask. It revealed a side that was concealed from most. A small mechanical device covers his mouth. From his skin protruded eery green tubes. Right, this must be one of K Corps devices.
There exists barely anyone in this world that doesn't hide themselves behind a mask. It stems from fear, sometimes even shame, of who you really are or how others react to that.
"My faith… is leaving me." The voice of this employee got shakier, unsteady. It wasn't the result of dread or fear. It was the sound of something trying to break free.
"Gh-!"
Soon, however, the trembling stopped. The employee must have done something with the device on his mouth. The green liquid flooded into the device in an instant.
"I am… purity…"
Heavy footsteps echoed through the corridor.
"A hammer… loyal to the One Who Grips…"
Alas, the employee wore his mask again. He walked away, muttering repeatedly to himself.
To change one's mind or body through a liquid…
Alas, just like this employee, you hide behind a mask as well. The clock you have is like a mask, hiding your former self from even yourself. And yet, could you embrace who you are once you find your head, Manager?
…
Dante didn't like this. Not one bit.
Just when they were already doubting their identity or who they were, this voice had to add its own questions. Was it not enough already?
And not only that, but this Identity from Meursault was far from pleasant. How could they order someone around that would normally kill them? Would more of them come? Or, even worse, would there be an Identity from that 'the One Who Grips'?
Dante hoped it wouldn't be the case. This time, hearing the Identity's story felt a bit different. A bit colder. A bit more personal. It was as if the connection to it was stronger than usual (if that made somehow sense). Regardless, they weren't going to ask Faust about it. It probably only felt different because it was an Identity from N Corp.
Regardless, the Sinners were preparing themselves to fight against the Inquisitors again. Even if Ishmael suggested that they could pass them if the group moved quietly enough, Dante doubted that it would work. The Sinners weren't really known for being discreet and silent, so to say.
Sinclair was as nervous as he was since he stepped into this place. And while Dante didn't really know what to say to make him feel better, it seemed like he was calming down a little bit. Or perhaps not. Perhaps he was just pushing away what would soon come and devour him.
And as the Sinners moved forward, Dante could only watch them. The story was still fresh in their mind, and as they looked at Sinclair, a cold feeling washed over them.
The team managed to arrive at Sinclair's mansion. It was the biggest one they had seen, standing in the innermost part of the town. Dante was sure it looked prettier when it wasn't engulfed in flames.
Dante took a moment to imagine how this town could've looked like during its peaceful time. When the trees near the forest were still bright and lush. How Sinclair would've been like. How everyone would've looked like before they died.
"… This is… awful." Ishmael frowned at the sight, seemingly as disturbed as most of the Sinners were. This town was long robbed from the beauty it had. Instead of a vast garden filled with flowers, this courtyard instead displayed numerous prosthetic bodies pierced by nails.
"… The graves… they're… dug up?" Sinclair's eyes drifted to the corner of the courtyard, where three graves were violated. It wasn't difficult to guess who they were though. Mother, father and sister.
"To execute the dead… this is comparable of a devil's work." Even Yi Sang, who always remained silent, voiced his disgust by what had been done. From the distance, someone was whistling.
It didn't take long for a figure to walk out of the burning household. Her smile and laughter were sinister, there was no other way to describe it.
"Why put so much work into burying bodies that can't even rot?"
"Kromer…" Sinclair's face palled, and his hands started trembling. So this was the woman he had talked about.
"I'm sure you'll find them around here somewhere if you look hard enough. I remember nailing those three. Be a good boy, and maybe I'll tell you where they are… Well, Sinclair. You've finally grown a spine, coming all the way here. Enough to look at some dead bodies as well, yeah?"
"… Why… just… all this… why?" Sinclair couldn't speak properly. And as Outis asked where the Before Team went to, Dante felt a kind of dread. Sure enough, Kromer pointed to a group of nailed bodies.
"Looking for the other filthy rats that snuck in here? Okay, okay. Watch closely. I'll turn on the lights!"
As the light flooded the area, Dante's worries came true. Effie was barely alive at this point, struggling to breathe. His limbs had been cut away. Instead, they had crudely lodged some deformed prosthetics into his limbs. His body was horribly mutilated.
It was a sight Dante wouldn't forget for a while.
How Effie had gasped for air, even with blood flowing out of his mouth. How he had trembled in pain and agony. How his flesh had clung to the nail imbedded into him, sometimes sliding down a little and leaving traces of blood or flesh behind. The way the prosthetics still held a bit of life, sometimes twitching abnormally and wounding the unharmed skin. His eyes seemed to be intact, but they looked at the group with a terror that would follow them into their nightmares.
"Tadaaaa! My little gift to you."
The Sinners were stunned by the sight before Faust managed to be the first to break the silence.
"… In his current state, it will approximately take two days for him to die. The pole piercing him will only amplify his suffering."
The decision that followed wasn't an easy one. Dante had hoped that there was still a way to safe Effie, but it was merely delusion. As such, there was no other way to help him but give him a painless death. Or as painless as there could be. Outis' offer was accepted, and she quickly fulfilled the order.
"Pfh-! Pwahahahahahaha!" The shriek laughter of Kromer brought the Sinners back to their situation. Right, things weren't done yet. Sinclair only stared at her.
"Ah." And it was then that Dante heard something break.
"Really, it's hilarious to watch you all care for each other when you will all meet the same end anyway! Really brings you back, eh, Sinclair? Your face back then was priceless."
"Kromer." It was the first time that Dante had heard Sinclair's voice this firm and cold.
"You have to die. Yeah… I think that's the way. You'll die by my-!"
The sound of a nail dragging across the floor interrupted him. Outis turned to look at the Manager. "It's Guido."
The Manager could've sworn that the Sinners had felled him with their best, but not a single scratch was visible on his body. It was as if all his injuries had been healed in that short time. Seeing him walk towards the Sinners filled them with fatigue. All the group could muster was a heavy groan of contempt coming from the deepest part of their hearts.
"Guido, why couldn't you take out the others?"
"Forgive me, O One Who Grips. My incompetence allowed them to escape." Kromer simply gave a dismissive wave at his words.
"You have to stay alert. You never know what's hidden under those cursed steel craniums."
"I shall keep your word at heart, O One Who Grips."
"Well. Since this reunion is over, I'll be heading back." Kromer turned around to walk into the burning mansion, but Sinclair stopped her with his words.
"Kromer!!! Come back here! I swear- you! I'll-… I'll grab you with my hand and-"
"You're wrong, Sinclair. It's always been the other way around." She gave Sinclair a long smirk, though it was unclear whether it was the violent blaze or Kromer's vice that was consuming the other.
"I am the one who grips."
With that, she disappeared into the mansion. Sinclair was furious, more so than Dante had ever seen him be. It was almost scary how much anger he really had inside of him. Had it always been like this? Even Heathcliff was surprised by Sinclair's violence, and that was saying something.
Regardless, it didn't take long before Guido blocked the path to the mansion.
"I remember with clarity that I ended your lives. I witnessed torn brain tissue spill through the cracks of your skulls. And yet, here you heretics are, standing before me." Guido's voice was, as always, reflected by the mask he wore. Gregor scoffed at his words, merely raising an eyebrow.
"You're not the one to complain about miraculous recoveries, bud…"
Ignoring his voice, Guido's head turned towards the Manager, observing them for a good while. Perhaps he knew that it had something to do with the Manager.
That was when Dante remembered something.
The Identity story.
In that one, Meursault had taken Guido's place, if they weren't wrong. The clothing and title had been the same. Meursault had used K Corps device in the story. Dante wasn't an expert with K Corp. or the Wings, but when they went through the border and had to fight the guards, they also were able to heal. Alas, could that be the reason why…?
The thought had consumed most of their attention, which was the reason why they only managed to pick up the last few sentences Guido had said. But, from the looks of the others, it probably had been something about blasphemy or whatever.
"Dante.. That man… He just insulted you. He doesn't even see you as a human being."
"That's not the same!! Besides, I've never used that nickname…" Ishmael grunted at Dante's words, but perhaps their words had affected her a little bit.
Perhaps this was a little start for Dante.
And as Guido went on another speech about how the Sinners were a given a choice to repent but had ignored that offer, they were all angered enough to fight that man again.
And maybe, if the Manager finds out enough about what was going on here, they could kill Guido for once and for all before he becomes a bigger problem in the futureSplendid. This is simply splendiferous! How fortunate is the world to have such a splendid person?"
Amidst the crowd of Inquisitors, this employee was one of the most excited ones.
"No… how unfortunate is the world to be plagued with so many defects pretending to be human? Meeting the One Who Grips finally opened my eyes to this world. I had been living a life of ignorance, disregarding those foul creatures prevalent in the streets!" By now, everyone around her could tell that this employee had a devotion like no other. It was a strong contrast to the ones looking less cheerful in the crowd.
"The voice of the One Who Grips defies my foolish thoughts and spreads the right mindset. Ever since I took on my role as a hammer, it was the voice of the One that soothed my trembling hands with each swing!" She took a moment of silence, various emotions showing in her face. But whatever one might have seen in it, she already masked it behind neutrality.
Belief isn't always chosen voluntarily. One might be born into a belief; another one might be led into it by despair or fear.
"Ahh…. Why was I ever scared to destroy the impure? How come I didn't notice sooner that those impure beings were tainting the soil they trampled on? It was then that I realised… my beautiful hometown wasn't safe from those defiled…. heretics, who roam freely without a single hint of shame or regret!"
Was she telling a story to the others or was she reminding herself of something?
"On my first week as a Mittelhammer, I pleaded to the One Who Grips that I wish to bring justice to the degenerate future of my hometown! The One Who Grips had blessed me with a benevolent smile as always."
The answer of the One Who Grips still rang in her ears. "You may do so."
The longer she went and retold the story that shaped her new future, the sinister the smile grew on her face.
"Ahahaa! I always knew it; I must be the chosen one! On that night, many towers were made out of Backstreet dwellers. Ohh, sorry! Those who were 'heretics', of course!" She described the events as if a tower of cold metal and flesh was the most beautiful sight on earth.
"To see them pierced and hung so far from the earth… it brought me a joy you wouldn't be able to understand. Why, I could just kiss the cleansed soil of my dear hometown."
A hatred burning so brightly… I once knew how such a strong dislike felt.
Unwavering faith in the one that leads you, or your missions, isn't always a wrong thing. However, when that faith blinds your perception of reality and the possibility of another truth, that faith is simply poison. Never let yourself be blindly led by others, Manager.
…
Given the place they were currently in, Dante understood why that advice had been given to them. They could witness the harm such cruel faith could do.
And with this new story, Dante knew that more of such Identities would come. If they had to guess, there would be one of the One Who Grips. And yet, the voice of them hadn't been clear enough to take a guess which Sinner would be the one to have it.
Well, it was a thought for later.
As the Sinners finally defeated Guido, his body fell to the ground for the second time. And while the Manager thought that they should take off his helmet to control whether he was really dead, Dante and the others were too tired to do so.
And Sinclair was too busy jabbing his spear repeatedly into the head of a dead Inquisitor. The corpse was mangled beyond recognition. Its blood and organs were spilling out all over the floor, but Sinclair didn't seem to mind. Surprisingly. For Dante, the sight wasn't so different from what the Inquisitors did.
"Sinclair… calm down." Even Rodya seemed wary of him. And yet, her words had no effect on him. He continued destroying the body, occasionally letting out a few pants or gasps of rage.
"I.. I'll… kill…. them all…" His voice was trembling, but he seemed to ignore that. And while the Manager knew that they had to stop him, Dante couldn't move. No one dared to step in. Sinclair was too blinded by his ire to listen to anyone.
"I know one way to bring him back to senses!" Don Quixote didn't even wait a few seconds after that before she jumped Sinclair and pinned him to the ground.
And then, she started punching his face. One fist thrown after the other, she didn't stop. Most of the Sinners were baffled, some questioning what to do. Rodya seemed the most concerned of them.
"Oh, uhm… Shouldn't we do something about this?"
"Leave 'em be." Ryōshū seemed calm, in comparison, and let out a little puff of smoke. "A couple of calves tussling isn't worth the effort."
And so, the group only observed.
The beating was a bit too ruthless, in Dante's opinion. Sinclair's blood splattered to the floor, yet Don Quixote continued till she deemed it enough.
"Pray tell, how dost thou feel now?"
Sinclair couldn't really respond, only taking a few breaths. It must hurt to move his face.
"Pardon my rash action. Often times, I would find myself overcome by the same fervor, rampaging much the same as a riderless horse. It was at such moments that mine old friends helped me to overcome myself by beating me senseless. 'Twas, at times, the only remedy there was to the fever that had overtaken me."
"Aha… so, in that sense, Vergilius must be a good friend of yours too, right?" Ishmael's words were met with silence and humourless chuckle from Rodya. The attention quickly shifted to Sinclair though, who started to gain his voice again. Tears were beginning to fall from his eyes.
"I-I'll get her for this… I'll go to my home… and skewer that bitch… I'll.. I'll skewer her with a stake! And then-" The rest of the sentence was lost in painful sobs. The Sinners didn't push him, though, only letting him cry for a few moments.
"I-…. lost everything overnight. Back then… they didn't parade their 'Nagel und Hammer' name around like this. You didn't see such large groups like that in the open. But at some point… more people started calling themselves 'Hammers', one by one, and…." He let out another sob, and Rodya tried her best to console him by giving him a few pats on the back. It worked slightly.
"… I still think this is a bad dream sometimes. That I'm just having trouble waking up… It always comes… Every morning, before I open my eyes… I hope that maybe this time, I'll wake up and see my familiar ceiling. Just maybe."
After that, he broke into tears again. It only made sense to wait for him before the Sinners continued moving.
After Sinclair felt strong enough to continue the mission, they entered the mansion before Sinclair led them to the basement. Upon opening the door, a long underpass to an unknown destination was revealed to the Sinners.
".. So. If my guess is right, this passage should lead to the branch facility." Sinclair sounded quite sure of himself, despite his words. Heathcliff only let out a sigh.
"Why're you keeping this shifty shaft in your basement anyway?"
"It wasn't here before."
"… What?" Heathcliff looked at Sinclair in confusion before it turned into annoyance. "Then how'd you know we oughta go to the basement? Lucky guess?"
"No… It's similar to how a magnetic field draws the needle of a compass northward… I was brought here by intuition." It didn't seem to amuse Heathcliff, but he didn't fight him on that. Instead, most of the Sinners turned to Faust, who remained silent.
"… Isn't that what this is? You're bringing us all along to use as sensors for the Boughs."
Instead of answering him, Faust strode past him and stood before the door.
"Judging from the material, this tunnel seems to have been made relatively recently. It is likely that N Corp's expeditionary forces have dug it when they had occupied the town. It won't be a short trip. And given that this passage was excavated for their use, we will certainly run into foes on the way."
<…>
"… Don't give me that look, Dante. I'm simply not in the position to comment on it."
With that, the Sinners entered the passage.