The first Sin Archbishops to arrive were Gluttony.
Not one. Two.
Twin boys, tan-skinned, dressed in loose, slightly ragged clothing that suggested they cared little for appearances. Their faces were eerily similar—sharp features, wild grins, and jagged, shark-like teeth that flashed every time they spoke.
Subaru didn't know their names.
She didn't even want to know.
Because the second they walked in, the second their golden eyes gleamed at her with pure, undiluted hunger, she knew she wanted nothing to do with them.
"Ahhh," one of them purred, voice thick with amusement. "What a joy. What a thrill. To stand before you—our beloved, our greatest, our mother of madness."
"We have waited," the other added, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. "So long. So hungry. So terribly, terribly hungry."
Subaru held perfectly still.
She wasn't an idiot. She already hated these guys.
There was something wrong with them. More than just the way they spoke, more than just their too-wide grins or the way they licked their lips after every sentence. There was something deeper, something primal, something inhuman in the way they looked at her.
Like she was food.
The one on the left took a casual step forward, his grin widening. "Tell us, O great one… do you remember the taste?"
The other let out a breathy chuckle. "The taste of a world half-devoured?"
Subaru's fingers twitched.
She wanted to vomit.
These freaks actually thought she had eaten something—someone—before.
She had to stay calm. Had to play along. Had to keep up the act.
So she tilted her head, letting the black mist around her curl, obscuring just a bit of her expression. "Perhaps," she murmured, her voice a whisper of something unreadable. "But do you remember yours?"
The twins froze.
Just for a second. Just long enough for their grins to falter, their eyes to widen ever so slightly.
Then, suddenly, they burst into laughter.
Loud. Unhinged. Pure glee.
"OHHH, she plays with us! She teases! She knows!"
"So cruel, so wondrous, so delicious!"
One of them threw himself onto his knees, hands clasped like he was begging for a meal. "We are unworthy! But still, we crave! O great one, let us feast! Let us devour!"
Subaru resisted the urge to gag.
"We respect you, we love you, we honor you," the other said, his jagged teeth gleaming. "For you have tasted what no other has tasted! You have swallowed what no other could swallow! You are the hunger beyond hunger!"
They were obsessed with eating.
Not just food.
Memories. Existence.
And worst of all?
They genuinely believed she had done it first.
Ē~Ē
The hunger wouldn't go away.
It wasn't just hunger. It was something worse. Something deeper, something primal, something that scratched at her bones from the inside out. It wasn't the kind of hunger that came from not eating—it was the kind of hunger that came from being this.
From being Satella.
Subaru had tried ignoring it. Tried pushing it down, forcing herself to sit still, to breathe, to pretend she wasn't losing her mind from the gnawing, clawing, devouring sensation inside her. But nothing worked. She couldn't eat normal food—everything she touched rotted in her hands. She had tried waiting it out, hoping it would pass.
It didn't.
It only got worse.
And soon, the hunger wasn't just in her stomach. It was in her chest, in her fingers, in her throat, in her mind.
She needed to destroy something.
To kill something.
She hated herself for it.
She despised herself for it.
But in the end, she still walked into the nearest forest.
The trees were already dead. The moment she stepped onto the soil, whatever life had been struggling to hold on withered instantly. The grass shriveled beneath her feet, the bark on the trees blackened and cracked, the very air itself felt like it was rotting.
The animals inside had already begun to flee. They could sense it. Sense her. But she was faster. Stronger. More powerful than she had any right to be.
And so, she killed them all.
Her hands reached for them—birds, deer, wolves, whatever she could find—and the moment her fingers brushed against fur, against feathers, against warm, living bodies, they withered. They cracked. They rotted away like they had been dead for centuries, their eyes going dull, their bones turning brittle, their flesh crumbling to dust.
She hated it.
But she couldn't stop.
Not until the hunger eased.
Not until she could breathe again.
By the time she was done, the forest was silent. No birds. No rustling in the underbrush. Nothing but blackened trees and decay.
She stood there, trembling, arms wrapped around herself, fingers still itching even though there was nothing left to destroy.
She wanted to throw up.
She wanted to scream.
She wanted to die.
But she couldn't.
Instead, she turned.
And saw the cultists watching from the distance.
They weren't horrified. They weren't afraid.
They were ecstatic.
Their hands clutched their chests, their eyes gleamed with devotion, their lips trembled with pure worship.
"Her love has touched this land!" one of them cried. "Her embrace has purified it!"
"Such insanityful beauty!"
"To witness her destruction is to witness divinity!"
Subaru stared at them, feeling something break inside her.
They thought this was holy.
They thought this was beautiful.
Nobody saw her crying.
Ē~Ē
Pandora sat in the candlelit room, her posture graceful, composed, untouched by the chaos that had unfolded outside. The air was thick with decay, the lingering scent of death clinging to every breath. The forest was gone. Devoured. As expected. As she had feared.
It was only a matter of time now.
If Satella kept going at this rate, nothing would be left. This land, this church, these worshippers, everything would crumble under her touch. The cultists worshipped her madness, but they did not understand it. They did not see that one day—perhaps soon—their beloved would reach for them, and they, too, would wither away.
Just like before.
Pandora exhaled slowly.
Four hundred years ago, even Fugel—the one who had loved Satella beyond reason, beyond mortality—had failed to stop her. And when faced with that failure, he had taken the only path left to him.
Suicide.
It was only after that—after she had lost everything, after she had destroyed everything—that Satella had sealed herself away.
And Pandora had spent centuries building this cult. Crafting a following. Waiting. For the perfect moment to bring her back in a way that could be controlled.
But Betelgeuse had ruined everything.
He had acted too soon. Brought her back before she was ready. Before Pandora had ensured the right conditions. And now, the world was at risk of repeating the same tragedy all over again.
The door creaked open.
Satella stepped in.
Disheveled.
Her silver hair, usually cascading in perfect waves, was tangled, strands sticking to her face. Her gown, smooth and untouched only hours before, was stained with traces of blackened dirt. The mist around her clung in strange, shifting patterns, curling unnaturally at her feet like an unseen weight was pressing down on her.
Her eyes…
Those violet eyes were hollow.
Good.
That was normal. That was how she always was.
But there was something else.
Something off.
Satella had always been strange—ethereal, disconnected, more of an unnatural force than a person. But tonight, there was something in the way she stood. The way her fingers twitched slightly at her sides, the way her lips pressed together in something too human.
She was acting odd.
Pandora tilted her head, offering a pleasant, welcoming smile. "You've been busy."
Satella said nothing.
She took another step forward, and the wood beneath her feet groaned as if it, too, was being devoured.
Pandora studied her carefully. "I see the hunger is still difficult to manage."
Satella's fingers curled. "…It doesn't stop."
A whisper. Hoarse.
Pandora folded her hands in her lap. "Of course it doesn't. That's what you are, after all."
Satella's gaze flickered toward her.
For a moment, just a brief moment, something unfamiliar passed through those violet eyes. Emotion.
Interesting.
Pandora leaned forward slightly, resting her chin against the back of her hand. "If you continue at this rate, this land will be gone within the month. Your followers will be next. And after that?" She gave a soft, knowing smile. "There will be nothing left."
Silence.
Satella didn't respond immediately. She only stood there, her mist curling at the edges of the room, shifting, breathing.
Then, finally—
"Good."
Pandora's smile didn't falter, but her fingers tapped against the wooden chair.
How troublesome.
This was not the response she had expected.
TBC
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