The inner city smelled too clean.
After a night of blood, bile, and rain-rotted flesh, the scent of burning incense and polished marble felt wrong, like a church built directly on top of a battlefield. Rain stepped through the open gate behind the Saintess, head bowed, Cecilia's white cloak wrapped around him like a borrowed miracle.
The morning sun struck the holy spires.
SHING—!
Light refracted off the cathedral towers, blinding, perfect, merciless.
Cecilia raised a hand, shielding him from the glare. Her expression softened the way it had centuries ago—back when her kindness still felt real.
Rain let his shoulders shake, just once.
Perfect.
She thinks you're drowning.
She thinks you need saving.
Good.
The Saintess' Escort
Two paladins marched ahead of them, armor rattling like restless chains. They eyed Rain as if he were contaminated.
One of them muttered, voice rough.
"Another fragile F-rank? The Order can't take in every stray. Let the city guard deal with him."
Cecilia didn't turn her head.
Her voice whispered like frost laced with bells.
"Added: He is with me."
The paladins fell silent.
Even now—centuries earlier than expected—her authority could suffocate a room.
Rain kept his gaze low, counting the rhythm of the street beneath his bare feet.
One hundred steps to the cathedral courtyard.
Fifty to the warded fountain.
Thirty to the statue of the First Saintess—his murderer's idol.
And twenty until the magic detectors.
He slowed.
The shadows around his ankles froze in an instant, compressing into a harmless puddle.
Cecilia noticed.
"You're limping," she murmured. "Did the ghouls injure your leg?"
Zero gave a small shake of his head. "It's nothing. I just… haven't slept."
Not a lie. He never slept.
The detectors hummed as they crossed.
A pillar of white light scanned him from head to toe.
FWOOOMP—!
Rain exhaled slowly as the rune-lights flickered, sputtered… then dimmed.
Good.
The shadows had mimicked his brand perfectly.
Just an F-rank.
Just a pretty boy who got lucky.
Cecilia walked close enough that their shoulders touched.
Her voice lowered.
"Answered: Why did the Crucible give you a brand like that?"
Rain let his fingers tremble, the picture of fragile confusion.
"I… don't know. I just want to live."
Something flickered in her snow-blue eyes. Compassion. Suspicion. Recognition.
He could never tell with her.
The Hall of Radiance
The cathedral doors opened with a groan that echoed through his ribs.
GGOOOOAAAAN—!
A wave of holy warmth washed over him.
It was the only heat in existence his shadows truly feared.
Twenty-five silhouettes hiding beneath his feet recoiled like burned animals.
Careful, Master.
Rain kept his face blank.
Cecilia guided him toward a marble bench. "Sit. The healers will examine you. You're shaking."
"I'm fine," he murmured.
"You're not."
She reached out and touched his wrist.
And suddenly—the entire hall was gone.
For half a heartbeat, Rain was back in another lifetime: lying on a golden altar, Cecilia leaning over him, whispering love and apologies as she plunged sanctified steel between his ribs.
His shadows hissed in collective fury.
Rain swallowed it down.
Cecilia blinked, sensing the tension. "Confessed: I… didn't mean to startle you."
"It's okay," he mumbled, eyes downcast. "I'm just… scared of touching people."
Her brows knit, guilt carving itself into her features.
Good.
Let her drown in it.
The Healers
A trio of white-robed clerics approached, murmuring prayers. Holy sigils spun around their hands like orbiting suns.
The lead healer frowned.
"What happens if we cleanse his brand? Or scan deeper?"
Cecilia's voice rang sharp.
"Announced: No one touches him without my permission."
The clerics bowed instantly.
Rain kept his breathing shallow as the magic swept across his body.
Golden warmth probed his skin, his bones, his soul.
A tendril of light brushed too close to the shadows beneath his ribs—
CRACK—!!
The rune circle shattered like exploding glass.
Clerics staggered backward.
"The brand…" one whispered, trembling. "It's… empty. Hollow. Like something tore out the center."
Cecilia's eyes snapped to Rain.
He curled inward, hugging his knees as if terrified.
"I—I told you… nothing works on me…"
The clerics exchanged uneasy glances.
Cecilia stepped forward, placing herself between Rain and the holy symbols.
"Explained: He's too fragile. We'll reassess later."
Rain hid his smile behind both hands.
Of course she would protect him.
She always did—right before the betrayal.
The Room of Mercy
Cecilia led him down a quiet side corridor.
Dawn light filtered through crystal windows, scattering rainbows across the floor.
"This will be your room," she murmured, pressing a key into his palm. "Rest. I'll send food."
Rain looked up at her slowly.
"Thank you… Saintess."
She flinched.
"Please," she whispered. "Call me Cecilia."
He did not move.
Did not breathe.
Did not blink.
That name still felt like a blade.
Finally, he nodded. "Okay… Cecilia."
Her lashes trembled. Something heavy pressed behind her eyes—déjà vu, memory, fate shifting underfoot.
"Questioned: Why do you look at me like that?" she asked quietly.
Zero tilted his head, letting a soft, broken smile form.
"Because you saved my life."
Not a lie.
Just not the whole truth.
Cecilia stepped back, visibly shaken.
"…Rest well, Juwon."
She closed the door.
CLICK.
Silence fell.
Rain waited until her footsteps vanished.
Then the floor darkened.
Twenty-five shadows crawled out from beneath his feet like loyal beasts returning to their den.
The gentle smile on his lips dissolved into something older.
Sharper.
Cracked by centuries of memory.
"Cecilia…" he murmured.
The shadows whispered, hungry.
Master… she sensed you.
"I know."
What will you do?
Rain reached up and touched his cheek—the exact place she had brushed his hair aside.
For a moment, the boy-mask flickered.
The monster beneath looked out.
Cold.
Infinite.
Patient.
"What we always do," he breathed.
"Wait."