Hearing those words, Nuri did not answer immediately.
His fingers unconsciously tightened at his sides. The endless white surrounding them suddenly felt far colder than before, his thoughts scattering into chaotic fragments. And that grotesque creature, restrained only a short distance away. Everything he had experienced since entering the temple violently clashed against the beliefs he had carried his entire life. Yet despite the chaos filling his mind, Nuri remained intensely focused on Lucien.
Instinctively, he felt it. His answer mattered.
Somewhere nearby, the beautiful chains binding the grotesque hand slowly creaked against one another, the sound echoing softly throughout the empty white world.
Creak.
Creak.
It sounded almost expectant.
Lucien quietly observed him for several moments before lightly twirling the umbrella in his hand, the small charm attached near its handle jingling with the motion.
"But then again," Lucien said softly, "perhaps that would be too much for you right now."
Nuri immediately lifted his head. "I know some of the truth already." His voice lacked confidence compared to before, but he forced himself to continue. "One of the requirements for joining the Knights of Valanta... is learning the truth about the world. Our captain explained it quite well."
The moment those words left his mouth, Lucien's expression subtly twitched. It was small, brief, yet unmistakable.
*That person again. Always interfering. Always appearing exactly when he isn't needed. Even after learning the truth, that man still chose this path. Still chose the gods. Utterly meaningless.*
Silence descended once more, heavy and suffocating. Only the sound of the chains creaking through the white world remained.
"You think you understand everything?" Lucien's voice remained soft and calm, yet something underneath it had shifted. "You think fragments are enough to explain why your god abandoned you the moment you needed him most?"
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Nuri's pupils trembled.
Lucien slowly lowered the umbrella. "Who does he think he is? Does he believe telling you half-truths somehow makes him merciful?"
The chains suddenly tightened with violent force.
Ripples spread outward beneath Lucien's feet despite there being no true ground in this white world. The surrounding space faintly distorted, and several of the beautiful chains restraining the grotesque hand cracked apart under the sudden pressure. The creature immediately began thrashing harder.
Nuri instinctively stepped backward, his breathing growing uneven. Until now, Lucien had always appeared elegant, calm, and detached from everything around him. But now, Nuri finally saw it.
Anger.
It wasn't an explosive rage, but something much colder. Something buried so deeply it had long since begun rotting from within.
"You knights are all the same," Lucien said quietly. "The gods reveal just enough fragments of the truth to keep you obedient... and you mistake that for trust. They allow you to believe you understand the world." A faint laugh escaped his lips, short and entirely empty. "But the moment something exists outside their design... they abandon you."
Silence immediately followed. Nuri clenched his fists, unable to deny it. His prayer truly had gone unanswered. For the first time in his life, his god had remained silent. And somehow, that terrified him far more than Lucien did.
Just as Lucien opened his mouth to continue, his body suddenly froze. A faint tremor passed through his fingers, and the chains surrounding the grotesque hand began vibrating violently.
Lucien's golden eyes narrowed. "...So it reached this far already."
The grotesque hand twitched unnaturally. Then, voices emerged from within the flesh, not one, but countless.
Fragmented whispers overlapped endlessly like broken prayers trapped inside skin. Some sounded as though they were begging for salvation; others resembled distant divine hymns echoing through ruined cathedrals. Male voices, female voices, the old, the young, they blended into something incomprehensible and deeply wrong.
Amidst that endless choir of distorted voices, Nuri's entire body stiffened.
For a brief moment, he thought he recognized them. A prayer spoken by an elderly priest from his hometown. The trembling voice of a fellow trainee from the Order. Even, for the shortest instant, he thought he heard his own voice whispering among the dead.
Nuri instinctively recoiled, his breathing turning sharp. It sounded as though the creature itself had consumed traces of believers. Perhaps even the remnants of gods.
Lucien quietly stared at it. For the first time since entering this white world, a flicker of uncertainty appeared in his expression.
"This shouldn't exist," he murmured.
The grotesque hand jerked violently toward him. The chains snapped taut, and several links shattered into dust. The overlapping voices grew louder, drowning out the silence. Louder. Louder.
Then, amidst the countless fragmented prayers and distorted hymns, one clear sentence emerged:
"—He opened the path—"
Absolute silence.
Nuri instantly looked toward Lucien. The remaining chains violently trembled throughout the white world. And for the first time since they had arrived, Lucien stopped smiling completely.