Leon stood in the abandoned warehouse, surrounded by the very people he'd once called family. The air was thick with tension. His heart, once a beacon of unshakeable faith, now felt like a block of ice in his chest, cracking under the weight of a sickening truth.
A sin. What he had been doing… it was a sin.
He remembered the screams and prayers of the "demon worshipers" he had killed over the years. He always believed he was doing good for the Temple.
But those families… the terrified women, the small children, the elders who simply tried to shield them—they weren't part of any cult. They were just… in the way. They were just the collateral damage his team conveniently swept under the rug, behind his back, while he was busy fighting the "culprits."
The realization hit him like a physical blow, a sudden shock he was having a hard time accepting. Just thinking this made his blood run cold.
Then he saw her. Pamela. The woman who, two years ago, had looked into his eyes, confessed her feelings, and gave him a reason to continue this life. Now, a hand was firmly cupping her ass, brazenly kneading the soft flesh beneath her Temple uniform.
The hand belonged to Ron, the new guy, the one who'd been promoted to second-in-command just last month. Pamela didn't flinch. She just had red cheeks, flustered by the touch.
His stomach twisted. A sudden, burning lust mixed with absolute disgust surged through him.
He remembered her touch, her promises, the way she used to cling to him after completing their mission. Was it all a lie? Every single touch, every soft word? He couldn't reconcile the woman he knew with this cold, complicit stranger.
"Still so naive, Leon?" Ron drawled, his fingers still tracing circles on Pamela's backside. He looked like a cat playing with a wounded mouse. "You really thought we were the one spreading the light?"
Leon clenched his fists, his enhanced strength, a gift from the Goddess he served, thrumming beneath his skin. He could rip them apart. He could tear Ron limb from limb for daring to touch her, for daring to mock him.
He was stronger, faster, more potent than any of them. He always had been.
Just then, the warehouse door creaked open, and the Head Priest, a man whose smile usually radiated false benevolence, stepped into the light. His eyes, usually crinkling with feigned warmth, were now cold and calculating.
"Leon," he said, his voice a silken purr. "Do you truly not wish to continue spreading the name of our Goddess? To continue purifying the land of its filth?"
Leon's voice tore through the air, raw with anguish and fury. "No! I can't! Not after what you've done, what we've done! All those innocent lives... how can you live with yourselves?!"
The Head Priest sighed, a theatrical, put-upon sound. He raised a hand, making a dismissive gesture.
Leon felt it immediately. The vibrant power that had always coursed through his veins, the strength that made him the best warrior in the Temple, simply… vanished. It was like a light switch being flicked off, leaving him suddenly, terrifyingly, ordinary.
He stumbled on the ground, his knees feeling weak.
"If you aren't going to continue, then you don't need those powers," the Head Priest said, a sneer finally gracing his lips. "And we certainly don't need useless people like you."
Ron burst into laughter, a harsh, grating sound. He pinched Pamela's butt again, harder this time, and she let out a soft, breathy giggle. "Oh, thank you, Leon!" he crowed, his eyes gleaming with malicious triumph.
"Thank you for leaving your position... and your hot girlfriend for me!" He then brought his fingers to his mouth, licking them slowly, deliberately, his gaze locked on Leon's horrified face.
A surge of raw, animalistic fury, mixed with profound despair, ripped through Leon. But it was too late. Ron raised his sword, the blade now shimmering with the same golden light that had once surrounded Leon.
His stolen power. The Head Priest had just transferred it to Ron, with the permission of the Goddess who once favored Leon.
"Farewell, leader," Ron sneered, and plunged the blade down.
The world went black as Leon's head was severed from his shoulders, rolling across the dusty warehouse floor, his lifeless eyes staring up at the triumphant, laughing faces of his betrayers.
Ron pulled Pamela tightly against his waist and kissed her, uncaring if anyone else was watching. When he broke the kiss, a thin string of saliva stretched between their lips.
"His end," Ron whispered against her mouth, his voice thick with triumph, "will be the witness to the beginning of our love."
With that, he lifted her into his arms and carried her into the deepest, darkest corner of the warehouse. From the shadows, a soft, breathless gasp was followed by a low, drawn-out moan.
Pa! Pa! Pa!