The drive to the church was quieter than usual.
Not uncomfortable.
Just thoughtful.
For once, neither of them seemed interested in filling every silence with teasing.
The city slowly disappeared behind them.
Buildings gave way to trees.
Roads became narrower.
Older.
Lonelier.
Andre rested his elbow against the window.
Watching the scenery pass by.
Esmeralda stole a glance at him.
Then another.
Then another.
Then Finally
"…Stop looking so tragic."
Andre didn't turn.
"…I'm literally looking out a window."
"You look like a divorced father of three."
That got a reaction.
A small laugh escaped him.
"…You're unbelievable."
"There he is."
She pointed dramatically.
"The human being."
Andre shook his head.
A faint smile appearing.
And somehow
that alone made Esmeralda relax.
Because after everything he had told her back at the mansion
she had been worried.
Not that he would break.
But that it was her fault for pushing him this far.
"You know maybe you just need some body who will take note of every little thing in your life."
Andre looked at her
"Huh?"
Esmeralda took a deep breath
"I can do that."
"I can be there for any relevant and irrelevant occasion."
"I can listen to your troubles help solve them."
" I can be your alibi, your backbone."
"You don't have to carry all the weight alone."
"And ofcourse give you a headache."
Andre also took a deep breath and smiled
"That would be nice, I would love that."
The car stopped as the driver turned back
"Ma'am, we are here."
They came down and ahead stood the church.
Andre stared at it.
Then at Esmeralda.
Then back at the church.
"…This is where we're getting answers?"
Esmeralda nodded confidently.
"…Yep."
Andre pointed at the building.
"…This look's like where horror movies begin."
She rolled her eyes.
"…You're such a coward."
"I am not."
"You absolutely are."
"I am a cautious survivor."
She laughed.
Andre hated how much he liked hearing that laugh.
They walked toward the entrance, as the church doors stood partially open.
Andre frowned slightly.
"…Why does this place feel weird?"
Esmeralda shrugged.
"…You're just a scared chicken."
Then she stepped inside.
Andre followed.
The place looked old and all rusty.
At the far end sat an old man.
Motionless.
Hands resting on a wooden cane.
Long gray hair.
Clouded white eyes.
Blind.
Yet somehow
he looked as though he knew exactly where they were.
Exactly where they stood.
Neither of them spoke.
Before they could
the old man smiled.
"…What is the daughter of Mr Dimitri doing here?."
Esmeralda froze.
"…Mr. Parker?"
The smile widened.
"...What have you brought with you today, child?"
Esmeralda immediately frowned.
"...Who."
Mr. Parker blinked.
"...Pardon?"
"Who, not what."
The old man paused.
Then chuckled softly.
"Ah."
He bowed his head slightly.
"My apologies."
His smile remained.
"But you must forgive an old blind man."
A pause.
"I sensed your presence the moment you stepped onto the church grounds."
His head slowly turned toward Andre.
"And the one beside you..."
The smile faded slightly.
"...is difficult to sense at all."
Andre raised an eyebrow.
Mr. Parker's fingers tightened around his cane.
"It is like trying to feel darkness itself."
The church grew quieter.
Esmeralda glanced at Andre.
Andre simply folded his arms.
Unbothered.
Or pretending to be.
Mr. Parker tilted his head.
"What brings you here?"
Esmeralda stepped forward.
"My friend wanted answers."
The old man nodded.
"Answers are dangerous things."
Another pause.
"Especially when people are fortunate enough not to know the questions."
Esmeralda rolled her eyes.
"Mr. Parker."
The old man laughed softly.
"Very well."
He turned toward Andre.
"What is your name, young man?"
Andre answered simply.
"...Andre."
Mr. Parker nodded.
"Andre."
The name lingered in the church for a moment.
Then the old man smiled.
"Come forward."
Andre glanced at Esmeralda.
She shrugged.
As if to say:
See? Normal.
Andre sighed.
Then stepped forward.
One step.
Two.
Suddenly
Mr. Parker jerked violently.
His grip tightened around his cane.
The smile vanished.
Completely.
Esmeralda froze.
"...Is everything okay?"
The old man's breathing became uneven.
For the first time since they arrived
he looked disturbed.
Genuinely disturbed.
"...No..."
Andre stopped walking.
The church became painfully silent.
Mr. Parker slowly stood.
"...That feeling..."
His voice had become quieter.
"...What is that?"
Esmeralda looked between them.
Confused.
"Mr. Parker?"
The old man swallowed.
Then slowly pointed toward Andre.
"I felt it."
A pause.
"The grip of death itself."
Silence.
Andre frowned.
Esmeralda stared.
"...What?"
Mr. Parker looked shaken.
Actually shaken.
His blind eyes searched the darkness around him.
As if expecting something to appear.
Then he extended a trembling hand.
"Give me your hand."
Andre hesitated.
The old man repeated himself.
More firmly this time.
"Your hand."
Slowly
Andre stepped closer.
But Esmeralda held his hand
"Let's leave here immediately, something's surley off."
Andre gave a weak smile
"It's ok."
A pause
"Trust me."
Then he placed his hand into Mr. Parker's.
The moment their skin touched
Mr. Parker recoiled.
As if burned.
He staggered backward.
A startled laugh escaping him.
Then another.
And another.
Not madness.
Disbelief.
Pure disbelief.
"No..."
He shook his head repeatedly.
"No..."
Esmeralda's heart began racing.
"Mr. Parker, what is it?"
The old man looked toward Andre again.
His face pale now.
"I have never..."
A pause.
"...never felt anything like this."
His voice lowered.
Barely above a whisper.
"I never thought a being could hold so much dark energy."
The church suddenly felt colder.
Andre's expression hardened slightly.
Mr. Parker slowly raised his trembling hand.
Listening.
Feeling.
As though something invisible surrounded Andre.
Then his face twisted.
Painfully.
"I hear them."
Esmeralda felt a chill crawl up her spine.
"Hear who?"
The old man's breathing quickened.
"The dead."
Silence.
"I hear screaming."
His head turned sharply.
Like he was following distant voices.
Thousands of them.
"I hear hatred."
A pause.
"Rage."
Another pause.
"Suffering."
His grip on the cane tightened.
Then suddenly
he flinched.
Violently.
As if he had seen something.
His blind eyes widened.
"I tried to look."
His voice cracked slightly.
"I should not have looked."
Esmeralda stepped closer.
Fear creeping into her voice.
"...What did you see?"
Mr. Parker slowly lowered his head.
His breathing uneven.
Disturbed.
Almost frightened.
"When I reached toward the voices..."
A pause.
"...I saw countless corpses."
The church felt suffocating now.
The old man swallowed hard.
"They were dragging someone."
Silence.
"Pulling him downward."
Another pause.
"Into an abyss."
His face tightened.
"And all around them..."
His voice became almost inaudible.
"...was darkness."
For the first time since arriving
even Andre looked unsettled.
Mr. Parker slowly released his grip on the cane.
Then whispered:
"...What exactly are you, Andre?"
Esmeralda held Andre tightly.
"...Okay."
She forced out a nervous laugh.
"...This is getting really weird."
Mr parkers grip tightened around the cane.
"Aha! I see you..."
A tremor entered his voice.
".. But I see something else attached to your name ?"
Esmeralda's stomach tightened.
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
Mr. Parker's lips parted slowly.
"...Punisher."
"...Destroyer."
"...Executioner."
His breathing hitched.
"...Wrath."
"...Hatred."
"...Vengeance."
"Nearly every violent word is attached to your name."
Mr. Parker suddenly flinched.
Violently.
As though another image had slammed into him.
Andre's expression darkened.
"...And?"
The old man slowly shook his head.
"No..."
A pause.
"...That's not the frightening part."
Mr. Parker's face twisted.
His blind eyes narrowing.
Searching.
"...I see a boy."
A pause.
"...Broken."
Another.
"...Alone."
His voice softened unexpectedly.
"...A child carrying pain he was never meant to carry."
For a brief moment
the fear disappeared from his face.
Replaced by pity.
Deep pity.
Then everything changed again.
His body stiffened.
The pity vanished.
And horror took its place.
"...Behind him, dark wings like that of a fallen angel."
His voice cracked.
"... Covering him and feeding on it all."
Silence.
Andre's jaw tightened.
Mr. Parker continued.
"...The hatred."
"...The grief."
"...The rage."
His hand trembled.
"..He wants the boys heart."
A pause.
"...He wants the boys will."
Esmeralda felt her pulse quicken.
The old man suddenly gasped.
"...Bodies."
Nobody moved.
"...I see Bodies everywhere."
His face drained of color.
"...I can't see the ground."
A pause.
"...Because there isn't any."
"...Only the dead."
His voice was shaking now.
"...Thousands."
"...Tens of thousands."
"...More than I can count."
His breathing became frantic.
"...Stacked."
"...Higher."
"...Higher."
"...Higher."
Then suddenly
he stopped.
Dead still.
Like he had reached the top.
His mouth slowly opened.
"...A throne."
Mr. Parker's entire body shook.
"...There's a throne."
A pause.
"...Built on death."
Esmeralda's heartbeat hammered against her chest.
The old man pointed toward Andre.
His trembling finger never wavering.
"...And you're sitting on it."
Silence.
Andre didn't move.
Didn't speak.
Didn't even blink.
But for the first time
something cold flickered behind his eyes.
Then
unexpectedly
Mr. Parker's expression changed.
Confusion.
Pure confusion.
"...Flowers?"
His voice became distant.
Almost childlike.
"...Why are there flowers?"
Another pause.
"...Beautiful."
"...Alive."
"...Growing where nothing should grow."
His face softened.
"...You leave the throne with the tattoo of a snake eating its tail on your back."
"...You kneel beside them."
"...And had happiness with them."
His breathing steadied slightly.
"...You smile."
Esmeralda blinked.
Smile?
Andre?
Mr. Parker continued.
"...One flower shines brighter than the others."
A pause.
"...You guard it most."
The old man's brow furrowed.
Like he couldn't understand what he was seeing.
Then suddenly
his face twisted again.
The horror returned.
Worse this time.
Much worse.
"...No."
His voice cracked.
"...No..."
He stumbled backward.
"...Don't."
Esmeralda stepped forward.
"Mr. Parker?"
The old man looked sick.
Actually sick.
"...He's here again."
A pause.
"...The fallen angel."
His breathing became frantic.
"...He takes a group of men into the garden and break's the flowers."
"...Crush them."
"...Tear them apart."
His voice rose.
"...And then—"
"...You stand."
A pause.
"...And everything dies."
Mr. Parker's blind eyes widened.
As if he was watching worlds burn.
"...Not enemies."
"...Not armies."
"...Everything."
His voice broke.
"...The garden."
"...The sky."
"...The people."
"...The ones you love."
A tear rolled down his cheek.
"...Nothing survives."
"Because you are."
"…The destroyer."
A pause.
"…The wielder of the Ring of Supremacy."
Esmeralda's eyes widened slightly.
"…What are you even saying?"
Mr. Parker ignored her.
"…Return to the abyss."
A beat.
"…Or watch yourself become a monster that kills everything you love."
Silence tightened again.
Then
softly:
"…People are going to die for you."
A pause.
"…Because of you."
He leaned back slowly.
"…And by you."
"...God help whoever will cross paths with you."
Esmeralda stepped closer to Andre now, uneasy.
"…Okay I have heard enough of this, we're leaving."
Andre didn't respond immediately.
His eyes were still on Mr. Parker.
Because for the first time
someone had spoken to him like he already knew what he was.
And he didn't deny it.
Not even once.