There was an utter shock on their faces.
"Sins!!" they all gasped in unison, the word tasting like ash in their mouths.
It had been years—perhaps decades—since they had heard of the word.
In their earliest days of training, when they were still novices clad in plain robes and trembling under the gaze of their masters, they had been told of the Seven Sins—the dark-born apostles of the Daemon God.
Each of them is an embodiment of a primal corruption, each of them said to command legions of horrors far worse than any mortal nightmare.
They remembered the warnings well: "If the Sins awaken, the age of mortals ends."
Back then, the elders had spoken of them like phantoms—ancient beings who might never return, locked in slumber beyond the reach of the living. Some had even dared to think the stories were exaggerated, a way to keep initiates obedient.
But now… now they seem to have awakened.
The silence that followed was heavy enough to crush the breath from their lungs.
