Chương 93: CHAPTER 91 – Wolf’s Wool

The temperature between the cathedral walls dropped quickly, spreading the chill through the corridors walked by a pair of young women. The nun with the flame-coloured hair was illustrating the unsealed rooms and the statues. She walked slowly, her hands clasped low, near her groin.

"Is there something you don't like?" Lucia turned, smiling at her guest. The girl looked around, biting her index fingernail in confusion, her gaze repeatedly thrown over her shoulder. When she realised she had been spoken to, she turned sharply, shaking her head.

"I have a bit of a headache. I'm sensitive to the cold…" She smiled, adjusting the collar of her sweater and the fabric over her stomach. The nun smiled, nodding and resuming her walk.

"In any case, the tour is over. My dear companions will have already brought your friends before the altar."

"I really can't stand this place..." Whether it was the skin rubbing against wool, the cold, or the horrible sensations those paintings conveyed, something made the cathedral wrong to her. With a nod, she resumed following Lucia, turning one last time in search of something. A few minutes passed, and Jeanne found herself once again before the entrance door, with even more light illuminating the already disgustingly bright cathedral. Sitting on one of the front pews, Maliard was consulting his notebook.

No one was near him, not even a trace of the nun who had accompanied him.

"I'll leave you here, miss. When you need to announce your findings, don't hesitate to contact us." With a quick bow, she vanished behind the columns. Maliard raised his gaze, shielding himself from the intense, coloured light.

"Found anything interesting? Maverick has taken position outside." Jeanne shook her head, looking around. Something sinister and nauseating hung in the air, and yet her mind could not trace it.

"Hey, Maliard… Don't you think this place is strange?" He nodded, standing up and beginning to look around, silent.

"I can say you're right. Something here escapes me, and my memory isn't helping. It's the same for Maverick. He says he feels something is missing but can't understand what. Is the objective of this mission only to investigate, or was there something else?" A wave of nervousness struck both of them, nagging them constantly with that growing sense of emptiness.

"I… I don't trust any of them." Jeanne leaned against one of the icy columns, staring at the intricate, labyrinthine ceiling. Maliard nodded, almost letting out a laugh.

"If Lance were here, he would have immediately asked why…" Their eyes met, wide, instantly understanding the root of the problem.

"Maliard, Lance wasn't with you during the visit." He shook his head at once, starting to fiddle with his watch. On the screen, all their names were highlighted with white light, except Lance's, written in grey.

"Lance was with you, Jeanne. Is it possible you don't remember?" The girl tried in every way to remember, yet she could only picture the square and the great wooden door. Maliard immediately grabbed the briefcase at the foot of the pew and handed it to her.

"Maverick released the weapons. Better you carry it." Jeanne gripped the handle tightly, lifting it to stomach height. Maliard fastened the glove to his arm securely, looking around.

"I've sent a message. He'll contact Lucas as soon as possible." Suddenly Jeanne's nose twitched, tickled by a smell of iron and sweat. She turned sharply, looking toward the nave opposite theirs.

"Something's wrong?" Jeanne looked him straight in the eyes, pointing at the corridor.

"Blood…" Maliard followed her finger, but she was already running, the briefcase clutched in her hand. In the endless desert of white sand, laughter and howls spread through the dry, freezing air. Agnes watched, terrified, as the man who had saved her violently pierced the beast's face with the palm of his hand. Mixed with the black rain, streams of violet blood stained the ground beneath them, dripping from the crater's edges.

Her eyes were fossilised on that boy's face, twisted in a disgusting grimace of pleasure.

"Is that all?!" He smiled, violently slicing off one of the beast's wings with a ferocious slash. A jet of violet blood struck him, burning his skin and forcing him to retreat. The creature thrashed, carving furrows in the sand and releasing harrowing screams. Lance laughed, wiping the blood from his face and completely regenerating his muscles and organs.

"He thought he could kill us with you? A plan that wasn't very well devised." He walked toward the beast, lifting the black sword onto his shoulder, smiling. With every step, the sand seemed to shift aside, not even daring to touch that being. Another pair of wings emerged from the creature, bringing the total to three. The beast snarled at Lance, raising the gigantic blade above its head. The block of ancient material crashed down, splitting the desert before the eye could even see it.

In the cloud, two yellow eyes silently watched the blade.

"Condensed Frequency. That would be useful in the future." The blade was stopped, held motionless by Lance's grip. His smile vibrated in the thin rain mixed with floating grains. Without changing expression, Lance launched a second slash, this time at the beast's chest. The iron sank between bones and rocky fragments, shattering rather than tearing his opponent. He jumped onto the blade's guard, charging a blow in mid-air.

"Einbrand." His fist released a single, very thin beam of energy, completely piercing the creature's neck and sending its head tumbling into the sand. With the recoil of the impact, he rose high, raising his leg.

"Einbrand!" Lance crashed back to the ground, this time releasing all the energy from his heel. The beast's arm was completely torn open, a disgusting smell of burning in the air. Lance fell to the ground, immediately grabbing the desperate creature by the leg and hurling it far among the dunes. He turned silently, a terrifying grin stamped on his face. His armour was beginning to crack, slowly stripping pieces of skin from his body, but all he cared about was the magnificent sword beside him.

"Let's see what this can do…" The boy grabbed the massive, heavy hilt with a single hand, lifting the entire weapon above his head. Immediately, Lachesi coated the weapon, lengthening and widening it. The blade now seemed broken, with two irregular points concluding that outrageous length. Triangular spines emerged along the guard, like fangs. All the material was now black, with strange circular formations like white fingerprints.

Along with the black rain, a swarm of bone darts began to fall from the sky like arrows. Lance raised the sword, chuckling. He slammed it violently into the ground, splitting the desert and dividing the strange clouds of Hel. The beast lost its arm, beginning to glow green. From the distance, with a shout, a beam of light broke free. The sand burned, releasing black smoke in its wake. Agnes watched, terrified, as the light spread across the entire dimension.

Lance drove the blade into the ground, channelling all his Frequency. The beam was split the moment it made contact, crashing beyond the horizon and detonating into clouds of brilliant green.

"You cannot extinguish my life… No devil can." From the smoke emerged Lance's yellowish eyes, his bulging muscles, and his blood-chilling grin. His entire body was covered in gashes, overflowing with black fluid. Drops of the same colour fell from his eyes, almost like thick tears. He rested the gigantic blade on his shoulder and gripped his pistol in his left hand.

"The tears don't seem to stop." He smiled, watching the sky continue to vomit that black deluge. Jeanne and Maliard ran through the corridors, taking every possible path to trace that disturbing smell. Maliard was unaware, but the girl now sensed something terribly sinister and inhuman. The morning light was beginning to fade, blocked by the dark clouds outside.

"Do you have any idea where we're going?" Maliard asked, continuing to adjust his watch in search of Lance's signal. Maverick outside had completely vanished from the screen, almost as if the cathedral were cutting them off.

"I have no idea, but I can feel something's here!" The first drops of sweat began to form on her face as she gripped the briefcase tightly, accelerating with every metre. Finally, a new trace stirred her senses, making her run faster and faster.

"How damn athletic is she without her powers?!" Slowly, Maliard was left behind while Jeanne desperately followed that raw, somehow intoxicating aroma. She stopped before a gigantic white door, slightly ajar. She stood petrified, staring at it, wrapped in a terrifying sensation. Maliard reached her quickly, also freezing before the portal.

"Jeanne… These readings are identical to a singularity!" The girl turned, pointing her finger at the entrance.

"The smell comes from there." Maliard nodded, approaching slowly. He put one shoulder against the wood, and Jeanne followed, positioning herself parallel to him. He gave a quick nod, and they began to push hard. Suddenly a wave of frost hit them, making them shiver. Once the door was fully open, they found themselves before a gigantic dune of white sand, with bone fragments scattered here and there. The sky was dark, without a single cloud to decorate it, only strange whitish, luminous cracks.

"This is the same situation as the reactor…" Maliard murmured, looking around. Jeanne touched the ground, watching a human bone protrude from the sand, strangely covered in dark patches. A blood-chilling scream rose from the cold infinity of the desert, followed by an explosion right on the dune before them. A laugh rose among the grains of sand, while numerous impacts continued to echo. A woman appeared, barefoot and with tears in her eyes as she tried to climb the sand.

Jeanne moved to run, but Maliard stopped her, raising a finger to his lips.

"Stop! Stop! Please stop!" The woman clung to the figure at the source of those blows, kneeling over a dark mass of bones and violet slime. Her fists rained down on what remained of the beast, now reduced to fragments ready to become dust. The woman wept, grabbing him by the throat, staining her hands with his blood and with that violet tar dripping from his eyes and wounds.

His knuckles stopped falling, and his smile vanished when he saw that the beast was now ash and that a powerful light was enveloping the desert, about to crack. The boy stroked Agnes's head, murmuring something, and stood looking around. His gaze fell first to the ground, where he saw his reflection in that disgusting mixture, catching sight of his body wrapped in a diabolical armour of blood. He saw the cracked sky and the dozens of pits still smoking in the clotted sand.

He turned toward the door, his eyes still wrapped in a golden glow, his arm now a mass of black, fearsome scales. He noticed the two figures and immediately vanished.

"Ah… It's you, Maliard. I'm glad to see you're well." The man couldn't move. Two claws were a single breath from tearing out Maliard's sight, and yet he had stopped. The relic returned to being a bracelet, revealing the arm and the bones beneath. Jeanne stared at him, pale, as he collapsed before them, with the nun running to him.

"Help him, please! You're his companions, aren't you?" As she shouted, she whispered something incomprehensible until she collapsed into Maliard's arms, clinging to him. He gave a terrible look at his own watch.

"A Teufel was here, and the readings are spread over a period of three days…" Jeanne was kneeling beside Lance, his head resting on her knees. She had immediately begun cleaning the gashes and administering a dose of the compound directly to his neck. Jeanne looked at him, nodding silently.

"Lance killed whatever was lurking in this place? And he's still alive?" An image appeared in his brain, an ancient memory. Among the flames, before him stood a boy with whitish hair and eyes of a dark, tenebrous blue. He was impaled, drenched in blood, and yet smiling.

"Maliard… I'm glad you're okay." Those were the last words of that memory. Maliard returned to reality. He glanced at Lance, unconscious.

"Why are you so damn similar to that traitor…" Maliard left the room, carrying Agnes on his shoulders. Lance reopened his eyes, finding himself in a gigantic golden hall. Incense-scented fumes invaded his nose while grim moans echoed through the enormous circular space. The floor was marble with dark, pinkish veins, terribly polished. The cracks of a whip began to nauseate him as he moved his bandaged body through the perfumed mist. On either side, black waterfalls cascaded without sound.

Beams of blue light swayed on the floor.

"Where does all this light come from?" He raised his face, covered by his fingers, immediately widening his eyes and feeling his arm burn. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

"A new breach?!" The sky was the same sky of Hel, that disgusting sky of polygons and natural filaments he had learned to loathe. A wave of nausea ran through him entirely, followed by a mix of sweat, blood, and salty tears. The whipping intensified, and with it the moans. The mist thinned, revealing the scene unfolding before the boy.

"Abbondius…" Hatred grew and grew inside him with every second his gaze fell on that man's shoulders, but it was the scene itself that brought him to the edge. Elise was nailed to a cross, her sight blocked by a black blindfold and a gag dirty with blood and saliva that at times dripped from her chin. Only dark rags barely covered her breasts and hips. She was continuously whipped by that flaming rope while he prayed and murmured things that only fed his hatred.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!!!" He tried to hurl his body at him, but everything became motionless, static, except for the monster before him. Abbondius raised his index finger to his lips and hissed.

"You disturb the ritual, heretic scum." One last lash, and Lance found his body crushed by heavy, thick woollen blankets. Despite all the wounds and pain, he managed to lift his torso with a jolt.

"Elise!" His voice echoed through the cold hall, with its pale wooden floor and numerous crucifixes of Eifibes hanging on the walls. The girl seated beside him raised her head sharply, looking at him pale but with her lips spread in a wide smile.

"Jeanne… What am I doing here?" The boy raised his gaze, meeting the flaming chandelier that illuminated that small, cold room. Around him, other little cots with the same bluish blankets, separated by curtains, were now drawn open.

"You fell into a singularity together with the nun who introduced us to the structure. You weren't in g-good condition…" She brought her hand to her forehead, as if trying to hold back something about to fall from there.

"And her? Agnes?" Lance stared at her attentively, remembering she had been hidden in the crater.

"Maliard helped her, but s-she says she doesn't remember anything. M-maybe an effect of the desert." Jeanne murmured, moving her hands away from her abdomen.

"You were murmuring in your sleep, some names… Elise and Abbondius. You snarled when you spoke." Jeanne looked at him closely, brushing his fingers with her hand and even trying to steady her breathing. Lance pressed his forehead even harder, feeling the anger growing and writhing.

"Elise, haven't they told you about her? She's one of the nuns, and she's in danger. The father of this shitty cathedral is killing her, and I…" He began to pant, trying to get up despite the searing pain in his temples and chest, identical to a burning brand. Jeanne grabbed his shoulders, looking him straight in the eyes.

"Lance, there's no priest here, and no nun named Elise… Lucas checked the data on your watch, and while you were in the singularity, Lachesi remained active for almost three days." Lance stared at his arm, only now noticing the pale scars on his skin, slightly darker on the arm than elsewhere.

"Maliard and Lucas say you're still conscious because Hel must have fed the relic enough." Lance looked around, directly at the door. He threw off the sheets, and Jeanne raised her hands, tightening her grip.

"Let me go. That woman was with Abbondius… Agnes knows something, so let me go, Jeanne. I have to help her." He coughed violently, spitting blood onto the dark bandages. She tightened her grip, forcing him to look at her face, red and livid despite the patches of pallor.

"Lance, there is no Elise and no priest. This place is corrupted and is causing problems for everyone… Even I had forgotten about you. I was distracted and absorbed into basically nothing." Lance looked at her face again, smiling.

"Jeanne, I assure you I'm not lying. I'll be fine, and I'll contact Maliard and Maverick for verification."

"Liar." The smile on his face began to crack as his brows furrowed. Jeanne had her gaze lowered, continuing to murmur soft words.

"You're a liar, Lance." Finally, Lance could see her face again, with glossy eyes and red cheeks. She squeezed his fingers tightly, almost painfully.

"Jeanne, I don't understand…" Jeanne immediately pointed her eyes at his face, ready to pour out hundreds of tears. Her lips trembled, and the first words came out shaky and weak.

"DO YOU THINK I DON'T KNOW YOU'RE HURT AND THAT EVEN LUCAS IS SUFFERING FOR YOU?!" Jeanne panted, letting a drop of saliva and tears fall onto Lance's blankets. He stared at her, stunned, clenching his fists and slowly looking away.

"I heard them. I know your situation is serious, and yet you're still here, not telling anyone. Those scars haven't gone away since that thing appeared… Can't you see you're only hurting yourself?" Lance squeezed the blankets, hearing her sobs.

"It's not what you think. It's not that serious…" Jeanne grabbed his hand again, preventing him from moving.

"Not that serious? You're always one step from death, and you can't understand how much it hurts others to always see you in a bed, bandaged or hooked to a machine?! What do I think, what does Monica think, and what would your sister think seeing you like this? Has it ever crossed your mind?!" As soon as Jeanne stopped speaking, panting, Lance slapped her hands away, staring at her with eyes radiating a glow.

"And even if that were true? What the hell do you know about me or my damn family? What do you think you know? I WILL SAVE JUDE AND DAMIAN EVEN IF I HAVE TO DIE IN FRONT OF ALL OF YOU!" His shout echoed in the silence of the cold hall as he snarled at the face of the poor, weeping girl sitting beside him. One last tear ran down toward her lips.

"Who is Damian?" She asked, her eyes widening.

"I... I don't know." He murmured, now completely detached, his tone flat and subdued.

"Give him back…" Lance began to breathe heavily as the girl slowly rose from the chair, adjusting her black sweater and putting on a pair of fine, circular glasses. She stared at him, confused, now pale and distant. Jeanne looked at him as she trembled, copious tears streaming down her cheeks.

"YOU ARE NOT LANCE! YOU'RE NOT THE PERSON I CARE ABOUT! GIVE ME BACK MY LANCE!" Still sobbing, she fled the room, quickly closing the door with a terrible boom. He remained staring at the wall, still seeing her silhouette weeping. His heart began to ache as he held his face in his hands.

"You did well, Lance. Who do you need if not me?" A cold caress slid over his face, slow and delicate, yet slimy and baleful. The shadows in the room began to stir, almost laughing. Lance covered his head with his arms, trembling.

"Leave me alone… Shut up… Shut up!" He covered his ears, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to distract himself from that laughter echoing inside him. Outside, Jeanne sat with her back against the icy wall, lost in one of those corridors. Her sleeve was damp, and a salty taste had soiled her lips. She covered her mouth with her fingers, letting them slide across her face.

"Lucas… Lance isn't well, is he?" Those were the words spoken that morning by Arte. The corridor should have been empty, yet Jeanne had passed there by chance while on laundry duty. The masked scientist nodded, letting out one of those usual breaths distorted by the filter.

"Can you help him?" The maid asked, resting her back against the window and adjusting the bow in her white hair. Lucas turned his gaze to the cloudy sky, shaking his head slightly.

"If he continues like this, the same symptoms as August could reappear…" Arte rubbed her eyes gently with her index and middle fingers, clicking her tongue.

"I'll make sure no one finds out." The moment Arte uttered those words, Jeanne vanished, hiding elsewhere and covering her mouth as her eyes grew wet. Now she thought back to that scene, drawing her legs close in a fetal position.

"What the hell happened to August?" She felt her breath grow laboured as the face of him appeared in her mind, full of rage and hatred, as if he were seeing a stranger.

"Did I do the right thing, Mann?" She began to mumble, sobbing at intervals.

"WHAT THE HELL DO I KNOW!" She raised her gaze to the ceiling, wiping the tears from her face.

"I really don't understand anything. My stomach hurts, and I feel sick. I hate this whole feeling, and I hate myself even more for not being able to understand it." Jeanne quickly scratched her head, tousling her hair as she kept failing to stop crying.

"Damn me, I'm a snake…" She sighed as the echo of footsteps spread through the corridor. Slowly, she found herself before Agnes, dressed in her usual uniform and holding a long silver chain with various crosses attached. She looked at her with pity, frowning.

"Is everything all right?" The nun asked, bending slightly, accompanied by the jingle of metal. Jeanne nodded, getting up and gesturing widely.

"You're Sianne, aren't you? The director, am I right?" Jeanne stared at her, confused for a few seconds, then nodded quickly, moving the strands stuck to her forehead. Agnes smiled, turning to look at the rest of the corridor.

"Will your companion recover?" Agnes squeezed the chains between her fingers, letting them ring for a few seconds.

"E-Everything will be fine. Fatigue must have made him collapse." The nun nodded a couple of times, folding her hands behind her back and smiling with half-closed eyes.

"Yours is a tough profession. Unfortunately, I too believe I collapsed and can't remember anything." Jeanne nodded, moving her lips to form a small smile.

"I will pray for Lance so that he wakes quickly." Agnes bowed, ambling toward the fork, followed by her gaze, completely fixed and pointed at her back.

"Wait…" Agnes turned, hoping to meet that smiling face again, but what she saw was somehow terrifying. Jeanne stared at her with eyes lit red, her hair disturbingly stirred, her appearance almost towering.

"No one ever said that name…" Agnes tried to step back but was immediately seized by the throat by Jeanne and slammed against the wall, feeling her nails pressing into her skin. The air fled Agnes' body the moment she was lifted.

"Don't justify yourself. I know you know. Now I just want you to open your mouth." Jeanne tightened her grip as Agnes desperately clung to her wrist. Jeanne's red eyes studied her in silence, piercing beyond her thin hair.

"I'm not a kind being, nun… So I'd like you to open those pretty lips of yours." She drove her palm into her stomach, pressing hard. Agnes began to thrash, moaning despite the lack of air. Tears gathered on her reddened cheeks. Jeanne bit her index finger, opening a thin wound. The blood that welled was metallic grey, glossy and luminous. Immediately, a thin blade coated her finger, and it was at once pointed at Agnes's eye.

"All women are more beautiful when they bleed, you know? That's what my big sister used to say." In an instinctive fit, Agnes began shaking the chains, moaning. Jeanne tore them from her hands and loosened the grip on her throat.

"Now can you open your mouth?" She smiled, continuing to wave the blade near her eyes.

"Abbondius! He's the priest who caused all this. He silenced us with the chains and forced us to hide the true nature of this place. Among us is a nun named Elise! She's special. She always spends time with him, yet we're not allowed to see her." Jeanne glanced at the pieces of scrap at her feet, strangely saturated with strange energy. She nodded at Agnes, letting her fall gasping to her feet.

"A strange pestilence, a manifestation of the Goddess, afflicts this place, and he wants to use it to sacrifice Elise and create a new body for…" She began to cough, immediately being struck in the chest by Jeanne.

"Speak. He has suffered more than you, so don't you dare rest. If he's in that condition, it's all because you failed to warn us." She smiled, licking her lips quickly. Agnes swallowed, weeping.

"He forced us to keep quiet about Elise, but I saw him in the upper tower with those long parchments. He made me promise not to say a word." Jeanne sighed, lowering her clawed hand and looking around. She pulled out a syringe and quickly pierced Agnes's neck. The greenish liquid immediately entered her bloodstream.

"You'll soon forget everything. You won't feel bad. You'll just have to sleep." Jeanne put the injection back in the back pocket of her trousers and smiled, leaving her coughing at her feet." Could the singularity have damaged the chains?" As she thought, Agnes handed her some keys. Her face was now pale and tired, and her breath rasping and pitiful. All her pretty face was afflicted by the sickness of terror.

"I think these are for the tower's door… That's where I was forced to wear the chains. I found them in the sand." Jeanne quickly took them, examining them. They were golden, engraved with strange bluish characters and decorated with an azure jewel.

"Given the cross-shaped head, the lock should have been easy to find." She nodded, turning away.

"I ask your forgiveness…" She heard weeping behind her as she paused in her relentless walk.

"Ask the sky for forgiveness. The chances of receiving it are higher from it than from me." Jeanne turned slowly, smiling from ear to ear. Agnes felt her blood freeze in the deepest part of her body.

"You'll forget everything, but I hope these words of mine are branded into your mind… Stay away from him, and don't ever dare even mention his name again." With great malice, she brought the claw to her mouth, gently resting it on her lips and letting her tongue protrude slightly. With a snap of her jaws, she turned back, while Agnes knelt, gasping. Jeanne had vanished, finding herself in a new section of the church, in one of those unsettling corridors.

"I'll find Maliard and make sure this place is completely decimated." The metal on her finger had melted, re-entering circulation as pure blood. Her face was white, her blue eyes contrasting with their vitality.

"I don't care if there's a goddess involved. I'll make sure I get Lance back…" She smiled, licking her lips again as her shadow grew larger on the white walls.