Vasalir stepped back into the room. His robe trailed silently behind him, like a shadow that had learned how to walk.
I greeted him with a smile. "Hey, so uh, you're done with your work?"
He returned the smile, a gentle one. "Of course. Please, follow me."
He turned and walked without waiting.
I followed him out of the room, footsteps echoing softly against the marble floor. The moment we stepped into the temple's main hall, I noticed the crowd. People bowed, prayed, or quietly conversed beneath the sacred banners. Among them were children, sitting, listening attentively as a group of priests taught them something about history. Probably glorified versions of it.
I glanced at them. "The children sure are eager to learn, huh?"
"Oh yes, of course they are," Vasalir replied warmly. "That's all we want—education for these children. After all, they are shaping the future, aren't they?"
I smiled awkwardly. A smile that says I'm not sure if I believe that, but I'll play along. "So... the kids here are all orphans?"
"Not all of them." His smile faltered. A flicker of something else passed through his eyes. Sadness, maybe. "Some children are abandoned by their parents. Even in front of us, they come and hand us their newborns, saying they weren't ready for children. Despite how much I want these children to experience having parents... I cannot turn them away. There's always a chance those children wouldn't survive out there with parents who have no intention of taking care of them."
Ah, fuck.
That was the first thought that came to my mind. This guy was... good. A good guy. But something didn't sit right. There was a strange weight in the air around him—like incense smoke that never cleared.
"Well then, have any children tried to run away?"
"No..." He glanced at me. "Not to my knowledge once they started living here. But yes... there have been certain instances of children running away after spotting us."
"Any reason you didn't chase them?" I asked.
He smiled again, but this time it lingered a little too long. "I don't know that. Despite being the high priest, emotions are... complex to me. As much as I want them to come here, I can't force them to live here if they are afraid."
I narrowed my eyes. "Well then, that just means you are afraid of how children will perceive you. You wish to remain in a good image for them rather than think of their actual benefit. A child is safe with his parents even if his parents are harsh. Be like a parent to them—not like a priest. It's alright if they are afraid of you. At least you would provide them a better life."
He stopped walking and turned to me, expression soft with surprise. Then, the corner of his lips curled into something genuine.
"You sure are wise, Sir Heide. You don't seem someone who is young."
"Yeah, I get that a lot."
We came to a large door. The hallway behind us was quiet now, like the temple itself was holding its breath.
"After you, Sir Heide," Vasalir said. "I quite enjoyed our chat, despite it being a short one."
"Ah, yes." I opened the door, still looking back at him. "Even I did enjoy our chat. Let's talk inside then—"
But the floor wasn't there.
There was no floor.
Just a gaping void.
A pit.
I turned my head back at the last second. Vasalir was still smiling. The same exact smile—but now it looked different. Off. Disturbing.
OHHHHH FUUUUUCCCC—
The door slammed shut.
Inside, Vasalir stood calmly, exhaled, and opened the same door again. This time, it led to a normal room with a floor. He sat down on the chair with a weary sigh.
"Let's see where this goes."
---
Darkness.
That was the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes.
Pitch-black, swallowing everything.
The floor felt slick beneath my palms. I pushed myself up slowly.
It was warm. And squishy.
...Flesh.
The realization hit. I'd felt this before—once, when I faced that Outer God.
"This seems bad," I muttered.
I stood, instinctively dusting myself off—only to smear sticky blood all over my coat. Great. That's what I get for muscle memory.
I started walking, step by careful step. The whole place felt wrong. Breathing. Alive. A heartbeat somewhere beneath the ground. This wasn't just a basement.
This was something.
This was a problem.