For several moments, neither sibling spoke. The silence that settled between them felt heavier than the stone walls of the corridor. Neither could erase the images they had just witnessed in that hidden room, the filthy blankets scattered across the floor, the rusted bowls abandoned in the corners, and the desperate scratches carved into the solid stone by trembling hands.
And above all else, that drawing. A simple charcoal sketch of a small house, a smiling family, and a bright sun hanging overhead. It was the kind of picture any child might proudly show their parents, a drawing that belonged on a bedroom wall, not inside a cage where hope had slowly withered away.
"How could something like this happen in a sacred place?" Alina's voice finally broke the quiet. Her words came out softer than usual, distant and hollow. She slowly turned her head back toward the corridor they had fled, her expression unreadable. "This place was supposed to protect people." A bitter look crossed her face, her fingers curling into tight fists. "It was supposed to be somewhere people could feel safe. Yet something like that existed right beneath everyone's noses..."
The rest of the sentence died before it could leave her mouth. There was no explanation that felt acceptable.
Nuri lowered his gaze, staring at the stone floor beneath his boots as his thoughts churned endlessly. Questions he had spent years ignoring suddenly refused to remain buried, questions he wasn't sure he truly wanted answered.
Eventually, he spoke quietly, almost hesitantly, as though he feared the words themselves. "Do you ever think... Do you ever think the gods are hiding something from us?"
Alina froze. The question struck her far harder than she expected. Slowly, she turned toward him, simply staring in silence. Nuri had always been devoted and curious, asking questions more often than most people. But there was a vast difference between curiosity and doubt. This sounded dangerously close to heresy, and the realization deeply unsettled her. If even Nuri was beginning to question the heavens, then perhaps the cracks in their world had been there longer than she wanted to admit.
Her lips parted slightly, as though a response would come naturally, but the words refused to appear. A strange, fleeting uncertainty flickered across her eyes before she quickly buried it. She didn't know the answer, and that frightened her more than the dark.
"Come on," Alina said, suddenly turning away. Her voice carried a firmness that hadn't been there moments before, as if ending the conversation would somehow make the question disappear. "We still have people to save."
Nuri studied her for a second longer before nodding. Neither of them spoke about the question again, yet neither forgot it. The silence that followed felt different, heavier, as though something invisible now walked beside them through the cathedral's halls.
Turning back toward the depths of the structure, they headed toward the source of the heavy thumping sound they had so eagerly avoided before. But the deeper they ventured into the layout, the stranger everything became.
At first, the changes were subtle and easy to dismiss, a shadow lingering where it shouldn't, a corridor seeming slightly longer than before, a stone carving appearing altered when viewed from the corner of the eye. But the further they walked, the harder those details became to ignore.
The cathedral no longer felt sacred or comforting; it felt entirely wrong. The stone walls seemed darker, their surfaces stained with unnatural age and neglect. Moonlight filtering through the stained-glass windows appeared weak and sickly, as though even the light itself was struggling to exist within these halls. The shadows shifted fluidly across the masonry, just enough to make the siblings doubt their own eyes. Even the carved symbols decorating the stone pillars appeared distorted and twisted, as if someone had taken something holy and stretched it into a shape it was never meant to hold.
Nuri couldn't explain it, yet the entire cathedral reminded him of a deep wound hidden beneath healthy skin. From the outside, everything looked normal, but underneath, a corruption was lurking. Something was rotting. A chill crept down his spine, and instinctively, his grip tightened around the small lantern they carried. The dead silence surrounding them only made it worse. There were no insects, no distant city sounds, and no creaking wood. It was as if the cathedral had actively swallowed every stray sound that entered it.
Neither sibling realized they had begun walking closer together, both pretending not to notice, yet both secretly relieved by the other's presence.
Then, they stopped. A large chamber opened before them, and the moment their eyes adjusted, both froze.
They had finally found the missing people. Every single one of them.
For a moment, Alina simply stared. Then, a breath she hadn't realized she was holding escaped her lungs, and relief washed over her so suddenly that her knees nearly buckled. They were alive. The gnawing dread that they would arrive too late finally eased. The captives were still here, breathing.
"Are you all alright?" she asked, hurrying forward.
The words had barely left her mouth when an excited voice rang out across the chamber. "Mom! Look! It's the nice lady!"
Alina blinked as a small figure broke away from the crowd and sprinted toward her. It was the same boy from earlier. Before she could react, he crashed into her and wrapped both arms tightly around her waist. The force of it nearly made her stumble. For a second, Alina stood there in surprise, and then her expression softened. Slowly, she placed a hand on the boy's head and returned the hug.
The child immediately relaxed against her, and that was when she noticed it, he was far too light. Even through his clothing, she could feel the sharp outline of his ribs. His arms felt thin, like they belonged to someone who hadn't eaten properly in weeks. A painful knot formed in her chest. How long had this child, and everyone else here, been suffering?
The thought made her stomach twist. Gently loosening the embrace, she stepped back to look at him properly. The boy smiled up at her, a genuine smile, yet that only made the sight more heartbreaking. Now that she was paying attention, she noticed the others looked much worse than when they had first been taken. Faces were pale and sunken. Eyes looked tired and hollow. Several people struggled just to remain standing, and even the adults appeared weak enough that a strong gust of wind might knock them over. Some leaned against the walls for support while others sat on the damp floorboards with exhausted expressions. The entire group looked drained, not merely hungry, but as though something had been steadily taking pieces of their lives away.
Alina's expression hardened, her relief giving way to intense concern. "What happened here?" Her voice turned serious, the warmth from moments earlier vanishing completely. "Who did this to you?"
The little boy tilted his head innocently, as though the answer were obvious. "Oh. The bad man."
A shadow passed through Alina's eyes. "What did he do?"
The boy didn't seem to understand why she was asking, or perhaps he simply didn't realize how horrifying the answer would sound. "He took lots of blood from everyone."
The words were childishly simple, yet they struck the room with the force of a hammer. For a brief moment, nobody spoke, and even the air itself seemed to grow colder. Alina's hands curled into fists at her sides.
Behind her, Nuri felt his stomach drop. The weakness, the pale faces, the exhaustion, suddenly everything made sense.
Alina slowly turned toward her brother. Neither spoke, and neither needed to; the look they exchanged was enough. Nuri already understood what had to be done. Taking a slow breath, he stepped forward, and the crowd instinctively made room for him.
A faint golden light began to gather around his hands, soft and gentle, like the glow of distant sunlight. The warmth of the blessing spread through the chamber, pushing back some of the oppressive atmosphere that had settled over the room. This was the power granted to him by the God of Fate: the power to heal, the power to mend.
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Nuri closed his eyes for a moment, focused, and then he began. One person at a time, a woman with trembling legs, a man struggling to remain conscious, an elderly woman whose face had become almost ghostly pale, he let the golden light flow from his hands into theirs. Strength slowly returned to weakened bodies. Pain faded, minor wounds closed, and color gradually returned to exhausted faces. Each person he healed smiled in relief, and each grateful expression made him push himself a little harder.
So he continued, treating person after person. The chamber was crowded, far more crowded than he had initially realized, and by the time he reached the final captive, exhaustion weighed heavily upon him. Sweat soaked through his clothes, his shirt clinging uncomfortably to his back. His arms felt heavy, his legs ached, and even breathing required more effort than before. The golden light around his hands flickered weakly before fading away entirely.
For a moment, Nuri simply stood there, catching his breath. Then he looked at the crowd. People who had seemed moments away from collapse now stood straighter, their faces carrying life and hope again. Despite his exhaustion, a bright, genuine smile spread across Nuri's face. It wasn't forced or proud; it was simply the kind of smile that naturally reassured people. For a brief moment, the oppressive atmosphere hanging over the chamber seemed a little lighter.
Moonlight filtered through the cathedral's stained-glass windows, casting pale silver beams across the room that caught Nuri's white hair, causing it to shimmer softly. "Feeling better?" he asked, his voice tired but warm.
Around him, people slowly nodded, offering quiet words of thanks. The visible relief on their faces was answer enough, and Nuri couldn't help but feel a small sense of satisfaction. The exhaustion suddenly felt worth it.
Nearby, Alina watched the scene unfold, a proud smile slowly appearing on her face. "You've improved."
Nuri blinked. "Huh?"
"Your healing," Alina said, crossing her arms without a hint of teasing. "It feels stronger than before."
For a moment, Nuri looked genuinely confused, awkwardly scratching his cheek. "I don't know," a nervous laugh escaped him. "I just did it the same way I always do."
Without warning, an arm wrapped itself tightly around his shoulders. Nuri nearly jumped as Alina grinned, ruffling his hair. "Good job."
His entire face immediately turned red. "S-Stop doing that!"
The reaction only made her grin wider. Nuri groaned; his sister was impossible. Deciding that changing the subject was the only way to preserve what remained of his dignity, he quickly looked back toward the crowd.
"Anyways..." His expression became serious again. "We should leave before that man comes back."
The room immediately fell silent. The relieved atmosphere vanished almost instantly as people exchanged uneasy, downward glances. A knot formed in Nuri's stomach; that wasn't the reaction he had expected.
Eventually, one of the older women stepped forward, her face lined with exhaustion. "We already tried."
Nuri frowned. "Tried what?"
The woman hesitated, then answered quietly. "Leaving."
The siblings exchanged confused looks, and Alina tilted her head. "What do you mean?"
The woman glanced toward one of the nearby doorways, fear flickering openly across her face. "This place... it won't let us leave. Every time we move through a room, we end up somewhere different."
Alina frowned. "Different?"
The woman nodded, her hands shaking slightly as she spoke. "At first, we thought we were simply lost. So we kept searching. But every corridor changes. Every room changes." She looked toward the doorway again, the terror in her eyes unmistakable. "No matter what we do... we can't find an exit."
The claim sounded entirely ridiculous and impossible. Alina immediately shook her head. "That doesn't make any sense. Look."
To prove her point, Alina strode toward the nearest doorway with absolute confidence. She fully expected to step into the same long stone hallway lined with cracked walls and fading religious symbols that they had been standing beside moments ago. Instead, she froze. The confidence vanished from her face instantly.
The room beyond had completely changed. In its place stood a dusty bedroom. A wooden bed rested against one wall, a wardrobe stood in the corner, and faded curtains hung over a narrow window. There wasn't a single trace of the corridor that had existed seconds earlier.
Alina stared, unable to process what she was seeing, but her stubbornness quickly overrode her confusion. "No way," she muttered, turning around and marching toward a completely different archway across the chamber.
She shoved the door open, expecting an exit, but her jaw tightened. The stone architecture had warped into a sprawling, industrial kitchen. Massive iron stoves and rusted cleavers sat quietly in the gloom.
"Nuri, come on," she commanded, her pace growing frantic as she dashed to a third exit at the side of the room. She threw it open, but it didn't lead outside. Instead, a pristine, quiet chapel materialized before her, row after row of velvet pews stretching into an unnatural darkness. Refusing to back down, Alina lunged toward the final door at the back of the altar space. When she pulled it wide, the scent of ancient parchment and dust hit her nose. It was a massive, multi-tiered library. Millions of nameless books lined towering shelves that curved impossibly into the ceiling.
Finally, Alina took a slow step backward, a bead of sweat rolling down her forehead. The frantic edge in her movements faded, replaced by a cold reality. She turned back to Nuri and the captives, her voice barely emerging above a whisper. "Okay. We are trapped."
A heavy weight descended on the chamber. "What... what kind of magic is this?" Alina asked.
No one answered, because no one had an answer. Nuri stared at the doorway, his mind racing as he searched for an explanation, a spell, an illusion, a blessing, or some form of divine artifact. Yet every possibility felt wrong. This wasn't anything he had ever studied, anything he had ever heard about, or anything the Knight Order had ever taught him. The feeling surrounding the cathedral was fundamentally different from ordinary magic or divine blessings.
And yet... it felt strangely familiar. Nuri's expression darkened. The hooded man, it was the exact same unsettling sensation, the same feeling that reality itself wasn't behaving correctly.
A chill crawled down his spine as another thought surfaced: Lucien. The name appeared in his mind so suddenly that it almost startled him. If anyone could understand something this bizarre, it would probably be him. Lucien always seemed to know things he shouldn't and understand things no one else could explain. In fact, Nuri couldn't shake the creeping feeling that Lucien was somewhere nearby right now, watching, waiting. The problem was that he had absolutely no idea whose side Lucien would choose if things truly went wrong. The thought left an uncomfortable knot in his stomach.
"Then what do we do?" Alina finally asked, her eyes moving across the shifting thresholds. "Do we just stay here?"
The captives exchanged uneasy glances. Eventually, one of the pale men stepped forward, his shoulders slumped with exhaustion. "I think one of the rooms has to lead outside eventually," a bitter, humorless laugh escaped him. "But none of us have the strength to keep searching. We've been wandering through this place for days. We've barely eaten, we've barely slept." He swallowed hard, lowering his head. "If we keep wandering around... someone's going to die."
A heavy silence followed, because everyone knew he was right. No one argued, not even Alina. The captives were starving and terrified. Even with Nuri's healing, there were limits to what his blessing could accomplish; it could mend physical damage, but it couldn't replace days of food and rest.
Slowly, Alina lowered herself onto the cold stone floor, and Nuri sat right beside her. For the first time since entering the cathedral, neither of them had a plan.
"I suppose..." Alina let out a long breath. "The only thing we can do now is wait for the Knight Order."
No one objected, because no one had a better solution. All they could do was wait and hope. Hope that help arrived before the cathedral changed again. Hope that the hooded man didn't return first. Hope that they weren't already too late.
The oppressive silence settled over the chamber once more as everyone waited in the darkness. And somewhere deep within the cathedral, something shifted, watching, listening, waiting.
Meanwhile, outside the structure, Captain Caelan stood completely still beneath the moonlit trees. His black hair shifted gently in the night breeze, his violet gaze remaining fixed entirely on the cathedral, observing, listening, waiting. To an ordinary person, it might have looked as though he were staring at nothing, yet both Elina and Daimon knew better than to interrupt him. Caelan rarely acted without reason, and when he became this focused, it usually meant he had noticed something the rest of them hadn't.
The cathedral loomed silently in the distance, dark, still, and watching. For a brief moment, the wind seemed to die, and the forest fell unnaturally quiet.
Then, something changed. A subtle shift passed through Caelan's expression as his eyes narrowed, the calmness vanishing to be replaced by sharp certainty. "We go inside."
Daimon immediately let out a long, suffering groan. "Oh, come on." He rubbed both hands across his face as if the universe had personally betrayed him. "I really didn't want to fight anyone today." His shoulders slumped dramatically. "It's a national festival. It's literally your god's festival. Shouldn't we be celebrating?"
Caelan didn't even blink. "We are working."
"Exactly!" Daimon threw both arms into the air. "That's the problem!"
Elina rolled her eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn't get stuck. "It's called being a knight."
Daimon looked genuinely horrified. "What a terrible profession."
The deadpan response earned an amused snort from Elina. Even Caelan's expression softened slightly, which Daimon noticed immediately.
"See? Even the captain agrees with me."
"He doesn't," Elina countered.
"He absolutely does."
"He absolutely doesn't."
Despite the theatrical argument, Daimon was already walking toward the cathedral. For all his complaints, everyone knew he would follow without a single shred of hesitation. He always did.
The three elite knights approached the massive entrance together, moonlight washing over the weathered stone walls and the shattered doors that stood open. Darkness waited beyond them, cold, silent, and unnatural.
The moment Caelan stepped across the threshold, the atmosphere changed instantly. The air grew heavier, the shadows seemed deeper, and something hidden within the cathedral stirred. Together, the three knights disappeared into the shifting darkness.