Alex's indignant march took a detour when he spotted a line of groggy MCTC personnel. Pretending he was one of them, he lined up too, and the girl at the window cast him a skeptical look before handing him his coffee.

He took a sip; sighed. "Can I get some sugar?"

"Move already!" The guy behind him shouted.

Alex grumbled, but did, ruffling through his inventory and producing a small packet. A double shot of coffee in the morning was the antidote to an ill mind—but he should have asked for a triple. By the time he reached the abandoned church, his mood hadn't left the gutter.

He remembered the last time he had entered a church very well. It'd been over a decade ago, on the last day he'd seen his blood-father. A lot had changed since then. For one, he no longer believed. For another, christianity as whole had largely been forsaken after the apocalypse, yet despite this, the abandoned church appeared well cared for. Even if many had turned their backs on God, it made sense to Alex that those who had benefited from his teachings might still pay their respects—even after learning he didn't exist.

Unless… you really are out there beyond the Constellations and Primordials. I have my doubts, but please don't smite thine heathen.

As Alex walked through the entryway, the spirits that haunted him grew restless. And what did you know? It just happened to be Sunday. He strolled the aisle between the empty benches, a bad sort of nostalgia settling in. Then Laura's voice echoed with a warmth that immediately took him off guard.

"...Many a night I saw the Pleiades, rising thro' the mellow shade,

Glitter like a swarm of fireflies tangled in a silver braid," she recited.

"When we look into the night sky, the stars whisper their truths to us, children. This poem was written by one Alfred Tennyson. The Order of the Seven Sisters did not have the pleasure of counting him among our clergy, but Tennyson was clearly touched by magic. When he gazed upon the Pleiades, the Seven Sisters spoke their truths, as they do to all who find it in them to listen.

"The Constellation of the Guiding Light, they are with us year-round. In spring, the season of life and harvest, the Sisters are bright—then dim once more in winter, when crops die and life hibernates. They teach us that all things move in cycles. Birth, death, and rebirth. So too, must we accept the cycles within ourselves for the endings we fear, the transitions we resist, and the beginnings we long for…"

Laura trailed off, having spotted Alex. Her words were directly translated in his mind, but her voice carried that same romantic, lilting quality he had always found in Latin languages. The children were silent. He felt a trace of calming, Divine Energy in her presence, and found it no wonder she'd captivated her audience. He didn't like it, but at the very least, she wasn't making them sing hymns or partake in Jesus's blood and body in wafer-form.

"Alex, it's nice to have you join us," Laura said. "Why don't you have a seat and listen in?"

She gestured to the ground before the altar steps, where several dozen children, both younger and older, sat in a semicircle. Alex took the last sip of his coffee.

"No, I'll just…"

He trailed off as the children turned back and already began scooting aside to make room for him on the floor. Now, it'd just be impolite to reject them. They had underestimated his size, though, and he had to nudge against them to fit, tucking his knees up. "...Thanks," he whispered.

He scratched at his left eye as it spasmed in irritation.

Then they turned their attention back to Laura. "Since there are some new faces among us this morning, I must extend an invitation," She said. "The Sisters beckon us to live in alignment with their light. Their wisdom is not contained in any single tome, but is whispered in the movement of the stars. Their call is an invitation to us all…"

She paused, holding eye-contact with Alex.

I'm not joining your cult. Just get on with it.

She nodded imperceptibly. "…When we look to Alcyone, brightest among the Sisters, we see the spark of life that burns within all things. When we look to Electra, we are reminded that even in sorrow, there is beauty. And when we turn to Merope, who hides her light in humility, we are taught that even in silence, there is meaning. These lessons they impart…"

Her words faded away as Alex stopped listening and bit back a yawn, wishing again for a stronger coffee. The things she said sounded nice, but he knew this was just a thinly veiled bid for loyalty and recruitment. It was true enough that those who had awakened may derive some truth from the night sky, but it was nothing so romantic as she described. They were just misgotten notions; vague, nonsensical feelings. In his experience, if a Constellation ever whispered anything more than that, it only meant that they had some use for you.

But the mere fact that there was power in the Constellations meant a great deal throughout history. In ancient times, mages were heralded as wisemen, and as they shared with others the mythos they saw in the stars, religions were birthed. The Crusades had sent most orders with any remaining prevalence into hiding, but even long before the Constellations had set their eyes on Earth, Mages revered them, and persisted through-out time. And now, as the apocalypse tested faith in newer Gods, and as people were awakened to the existence of far older ones, devout orders like that of the Seven Sisters no longer had reason to hide. They found that once the Constellations had real use for them, they actually spoke quite plainly.

A religious war played in the shadows of this new age—and this preaching was just one battlefront amongst others. But if all the Sisters can wear a smile like she can, I guess it's no wonder they're doing well.

Alex scratched his eye, watching the way she even talked with a smile. He couldn't do that—it was a fucking talent. His voice wasn't the least bit soothing either. And his words just made children cry. No, actually, his appearance did that without him even having to say a word. How lovely it must be to have symmetrical features. Or even just a face that wasn't disfigured. Lips that curled in the right way. Eyes that were wide and innocent, paired with wrinkles that made her look mature rather than old. Hips that—

In any case, Alex was certain Yara wouldn't have run away crying from Laura like she had from him last night. He couldn't even blame these kids for buying into what Laura she was selling. She sold it so well.

But Christ, is she ever going to stop talking? What the hell did I even come here for?

Alex's stomach rumbled. He refused when the boy next to him offered up his tamale in kindness. He was too young for the Marines to put to good use; he was little more than skin and bones.

"...and when the Seven Sisters looked upon his soul, he—"

Alex almost breathed his relief as Laura was interrupted.

"Hey, Sister!" A young girl squirmed restlessly from the front. "You keep saying there's Seven Sisters, but when I looked last night, there was six!"

Laura knelt. "Sweetie, I don't believe I've seen you here before. What's your name?"

"Abril!"

"Well, Abril, it's polite to save questions for question time. But since you wouldn't have known that I don't blame you for your excitement. It's actually rather endearing."

She pinched Abril's nose, and the girl beamed. Another win for the Seven Sisters.

"As for why you saw only six stars, please understand that you're still very young, Abril. One day soon, when you attune yourself more with the cosmos, you may notice dozens more sisters veiled in the night sky. But even now, there is wisdom in the observation you've made."

Laura turned to address her entire audience. "What Abril here has noticed relates to the tale of the Lost Pleiad. Long ago, all seven of the sisters were visible to the naked eye—Alcyone, Maia, Taygete, Electra, Celaeno, Sterope, and Merope. But over time, one of their lights has dimmed. It's still there if you look long enough, but if any of you become Mages and awaken your third eye, you'll notice that Merope no longer holds such power as her sisters do.

"And the reason for this… is love."

"Love?" Alex muttered, incredulous.

"Love?" a child blurted louder.

"Yes darling. Love," Laura said. "The Constellations are powerful, but it's because of that power that they are limited in how they can affect the lower realms. Merope, bless her heart, yearned for the one thing a Constellation could not have—she'd fallen in love with a mortal man. But rather than throw that love in her heart away, she descended from godhood to be with him, here in this realm. Her light may shine dimmest in the night sky, but her choice brings her closest to us out of all the Sisters. She understands our plights and watches us when her sisters cannot. She is the light that guides us unseen. And most importantly, she knows what it's like to be all alone—to grow cold at night… and to go hungry when there is no food left to eat."

Alex ground his jaw. This shameless little…

His eye twitched harder as he saw Laura flourish artisan blankets and warm tamales. Before the children could even begin to swarm, she'd assured them there was enough for everyone, and now they were calmly passing them to those seated farther back with uncanny politeness. The Marine instructor was an ignorant fool to let his perfect soldiers "enjoy a little morning church" before their training. Alex could see it clearly on the orphan's faces—even if they fought for their Sergeant, in their hearts, they belonged to the Seven Sisters now. They'd been fought over like scraps, and it was the same everywhere he looked. Orphans being peddled like wares. People just learned to grow numb to it; yet somehow it never failed to piss him the fuck off.

He raised his hand.

"I'm sorry Alex, but no exceptions. Questions will have to be saved for question ti—"

"Apologies, I just can't help my curiosity," he said. "If Merope understands mortal plight so well, then why did the Order of the Seven Sisters vote in accordance with the System Apocalypse? Doesn't that make the Seven Sisters guilty of orphaning all these children in the first place?"

The children froze at that.

Laura shifted uncomfortably. "That's a complicated subject, Alex. One that I'd be happy to discuss with you in depth later, but these children are still healing from the scars the apocalypse has left them. To do so here is… tactless."

Suddenly, the Seven Sisters' presence hung heavy in the church. Alex was surprised to feel Orion's gaze too—the barest trace of his split attention.

What the hell?

Alex had barely opened his mouth, why was this becoming such a big deal? Or were they just that starved for drama with one another? He scowled. All this Divine Energy had the spirits riled, and he could feel their hatred like a mad pounding in his head. He disliked all this attention—but then, so did Laura. He saw her squirm and remembered why he'd come here.

"I can't claim to know much about all this religious bullshit," he continued, "But if the stars speak true, then perhaps there's truth in other myths about the Pleiades? I think I recall the Greeks said something about the Sisters taking to the stars to flee Orion. Are they not just up there out of fear?"

Laura winced, and for the first time, something akin to displeasure flickered across her face.

"Alex," she said testily, "myths are only myths. But you and I both know that in those same stories, Orion was said to be looking at the Sisters with unfriendly eyes. Again, I'd be glad to discuss this with you later, but please keep in mind our present company."

"Children, you mean?"

Her eyes narrowed. They were in the company of children—and she was very much treating them as such. It wasn't smart to press the issue, but for some reason Alex couldn't care less right now. These weren't just innocent kids anymore. They'd seen horrors no child should, experienced loss, and were actively being trained for war. Their team was walking into a System Event for Christ's sake—Alex could be forced to kill children in the name of protecting Laura. And he knew full well that in places with looser laws, warfare wasn't the only way in which children were exploited. It was just the way the world was.

And whose fault was that?

"Alex, I understand your heart is in the right place but—"

"Answer this, Laura. Are the Seven Sisters going to fund a new branch on this obscure island?"

Her lips pressed into a tight line. Alex sneered. "Not feasible, is it? Since you have no intention of shielding these children forever, then there's no need for us to censor our words. Myths are just myths, but in those stories, Orion was trying to rape the Seven Sisters, wasn't he?"

The Constellation's attention bristled, sending a spike of fear beneath Alex's pulsing anger. If his earlier words had set Laura off a little, now she looked pissed. She quickly mastered herself, though, and told the children they'd reconvene tomorrow morning, flashing her usual smile and handing out more tamales on their way out.

When the last child left, her expression darkened. To say that Alex wasn't being smart was an understatement. He lost his temper too easily these days, and he could only blame half of it on the evil spirits. Nothing good came from pissing off your employer—not when she belonged to a powerful faction and had a small pantheon of gods on her side. But…

"I just don't know how you can do it," Alex snapped. "How can you stand there, smiling, giving these children a parable of how your goddesses understand their plight… when those same goddesses are responsible for it in the first place!"

Alex grimaced the instant those words came out of his mouth. Fuck. He scrunched his fists, staring at the ground until, mercifully, the Constellations' attention faded. Why was he getting so angry? It wasn't like he was doing anything to help these kids, either—he was fucking useless for that sort of thing. But still…

Intellectually, he recognized he was probably in a world of shit, yet it was still vindicating seeing Laura's frustration—her expression almost pained as she walked down the altar steps. She stopped on the final step and stared down at him, with none of the false softness in her eyes he'd come to expect. Fuck it. Who cared about what he was walking into with this quest. Just let the bitch say what she really thought of him. Let her stop dancing around the subject like it didn't exist.

Alex glared back. She closed her eyes, taking a long, uneven breath. Then when she opened them again, her eyes had… softened?

"I forgive you, Alex."

"…Excuse me?"

"I forgive you, Alex," She repeated. "Your words were hurtful and crude and should have been said in private. But I know they came from a place of compassion. You're right about much of it—and I would discuss that with you, but that's not what you came here to discuss, is it? You have my attention now. So what can I do for you?"

"No. No fucking way we're still doing this," he growled. "Stop acting so pleasant like the world's all sunshine and rainbows. The world's ending Laura, and it's just the two of us here. Stop pretending like you don't hate my fucking guts!"

"Contrary to what you believe, I don't hate you, Alex. I actually find many of your qualities admirable. But that isn't what you came here to say, so please, respect my time and tell me—"

"You already know what I came for!" Alex yelled.

"Then once again, I'll have to refuse you!" She huffed. "Yes, I have been entrusted with more than one mission, and no, I'm not telling you what the others are." She took another steadying breath. "They don't involve your cooperation, Alex. And the chances that they'd put you in danger are very, very low."

Very low was already too high for him to ignore. "Why even bother kidnapping me if you can't trust me?"

"I didn't mean to kidnap you, Alex. You're not the only one I'm not telling. Eric—"

"Bullshit!" he snapped. "Eric wouldn't have bothered asking in the first place, and he's not the one who swore a damn soul oath! So maybe, if you could stop pretending for one second, Laura, we could talk to each other like adults! And maybe then you won't have to plaster that pretty fucking smile on your face everywhere you—"

"You want to know why I don't trust you, Alex?!" she yelled. "Look in the mirror!"

And there it was. What this was all about. Alex smiled with mirth.

"Surely you aren't saying my scarred face is ugly. Be more specific, Laura."

He took a step forward, and she took a step backward, up the altar. Another step, and another, until he had her backed against the altar table, knocking over unlit candles. Their faces were bare inches apart, and she relented.

"You're branded, Alex," she said. "The Coalition Guilds have… marked you. They've forgiven the matter, but the branding is still on your profile for those with the authority to look."

"And?" he questioned.

"...You have far too many Death Skulls for them to be in self-defense."

Far, far too many. But that wasn't what he was waiting to hear.

"…And I can see them. The souls of all your victims. Watching, and waiting."

Alex fixed Laura's gaze, unable to read her expression. Then he let out a held breath. As soon as he did, the tension in his body drained, and he became all too aware of how close they stood. He stepped back, giving her space to breathe. Some small trace of his anger diminished, he spared a moment to rethink his actions.

Christ… I made a mess here.

He could probably get killed for this, and it would be justified by most Mage's standards. Oh well, that would make most of his spirits happy anyway. He faced away as Laura dusted off her habit and fixed her bangs.

"…Hey, does a girl named Yara come here?" he asked.

"Yes," Laura said. "Yara came last night, actually. I heard her knocking on the door after I'd gone to bed and found her in tears by the entrance."

Alex tightened his lips. His eye started getting rashy so he stopped scratching at it. Instead, he fixed his attention on the light refracting through the windows onto the benches. Laura stepped up beside him. "She was distraught, and in a lot of pain. But I saw in her a resolve that hadn't been there before."

Alex frowned. "I see… will you give this to her, then?"

He handed a box to Laura.

"What is this?"

"Baked goods," he said. "Instructor Sawyer's a fatass. He'd probably eat them all if I asked him to do it."

She weighed the box in her hands. "Alex…"

But she said nothing more before vanishing it to her inventory. Her hand came to rest on his shoulder. She was still bothering with her kindly sister act, he noticed, and his bottomless anger welled up again. He shirked it off, pinching his eyes.

"Do the Seven Sisters uh… offer confessionals?"

"What?"

"Confessionals," he repeated. "I understand your reasons for not trusting me; these evil spirits seem to be proof enough of my character. Isn't it natural I'd try to clear the air with your gods? Or what, does your organization not hear-out confessions?"

"We… do," Laura said tentatively, "But only the kinds given by criminals."

"All the more fitting."

"Christ, Alex—"

"Language," he reminded her. "Not in the house of God."

Laura looked at their surroundings, her gaze settling on the crucifixion of Jesus. She gave a soft, empty chuckle. "If this is what you want, then fine, but it's not a guarantee I'll share delicate information with you in return. I'm doing this because I value your contribution to our party and, truthfully, because I think it's healthy for you to share what's on your chest. If you're ready to come into the light, then come. Let the Seven Sisters guide you, Alex."

She led him off the altar to the confession booth on the left with a strained smile. Alex slid into the booth adjacent to hers.

"This isn't traditionally how we do this, but if it makes you comfortable, please speak freely of your sins," Laura said. "The Seven Sisters are watching over you, and I am here to guide you into the light."

She closed the curtains. The wooden mesh veil between them concealed all but the shapes of their bodies. The spirits grew restless, seemingly having a good understanding of what he was doing. The pounding in his head only intensified as he cleared his throat. "Forgive me, Sister, for I have sinned. My last confession was… well, never. Alright, where to begin…"

When Alex was six, he stole a rotisserie chicken from Safeway. And half a box of spaghetti—because he'd once seen his father throw them against the wall, watching if they'll stick. When he was eight, he and a few older kids in the neighborhood used to trespass at the nearby community college on weekends. Security was lax, and the professors almost never locked their classrooms. They'd scribble obscene messages on the chalkboards, vandalize books, and drink all the coke and coffee from their mini-fridges. When they were done, the others would stand guard while he stuck his scrawny arms up the vending machine. That earned him an irrational love for Famous Amos, Grandma's Chocolate Brownie Cookies, blueberry Pop-Tarts, and everything else on the bottom row.

When he was twelve, he started getting weed from—

"Alex," Laura interrupted. "I know what I said, but I'm not Catholic. You don't have to confess to every sin in your life. Just the ones that burden you."

Alex narrowed his eyes. She was right—his resentment was bleeding into obnoxiousness now. She'd accommodated him this far, and he was starting to respect her patience, even if he didn't respect her religion. The truth was… he just didn't know where to begin.

Laura sighed, rustling her clothes. "If you need a vape to get you going—"

"No. That's— I'm fine without. I'll… start from the beginning then."

He took a breath to mentally recover from the fact she carried a vape, then said, "Honestly, I'm not burdened by most of my sins, Sister. Many of them I hardly consider sins at all; and most of these souls can rot in hell for all I care. But some, well…"

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

He trailed off. At times like these, he could only ever feel the most hateful of his spirits. "…I think you Mages underestimate what it was like over there," he said eventually. "In Nightmare—for us normal folk that had no clue what we were walking into. I'd just come off of a long shift that night. I was overworked, tired. And in the first scenario, I killed a guy who was just as confused as I was… and… who'd tried to help me. He'd slowed himself down out of concern and I—Christ, why am I even telling you this."

"Survival is an ugly, but understandable cause, Alex," Laura said.

He chuckled. "Is it?"

"It is. Our light cannot touch others' if it dies before its time to shine."

"Ah yes, that's just beautiful logic. 'Sorry I killed you, man. My light would've shone brighter than yours anyway'. Think he'd be happy hearing that?"

"An understandable cause is not always a just one—but you didn't kill out of logic, Alex. We're animals. You killed to survive."

"At first, sure." He shrugged. "Those early days go by fast; There's no space to reflect or think on your actions. You do what you have to. But eventually, things no longer become so clear-cut, and you face a choice."

He let out a breath before continuing. "There were hardly any good people in Nightmare—I bet even Eric has his skeletons—but after a couple weeks, you can generally slot them into two types, Sister. There are those who kill when it's crucial to their immediate survival. And those who look ahead and realize that what kept them alive up to that point won't work forever. Those who kill for power."

"...And which type of person are you?" Laura asked.

"Take a guess."

A moment passed, then Alex winced when she didn't. Laura waited like a statue, for him to say it himself. Shamefully, his hand shook, and he felt a sudden urge to launch himself at her and see whether he'd be smited before or after killing her. It was an irrational, murderous impulse.

"Eventually, I realized that the former were easier to kill when they let their guard down," Alex said. "I'd been driven half mad by that time, but my decisions were my own. I wasn't in direct danger. I wasn't provoked. I'd had enough to keep myself fed and well-cared for—for the time being, at least. So tell me, Sister. Is that still survival? Can you still find it in your heart to understand me? Or is this the part of all this where the Seven Sisters pass down their holy judgement—or whatever the fuck they do—and condemn me some retribution?"

Anticlimactically, Laura said and did nothing. Though Alex noticed she had no longer offered kind reassurances as she had before. He snorted.

"Mind you," he continued. "I didn't come to this conclusion on my own. It took a few attempts on my life, betrayals from people I thought I could trust, before I understood that this was just the way the world works—the world you mages brought to us all. Not that I'm not excusing my actions. I know what I did is unforgivable, and I'm not a good person, Sister. I just leech off the goodwill of people who are, but the unfortunate reality is, it's people like me who end up surviving. So don't prattle off to me about my "compassion" or pretend that you know even the first thing about who I am. You're just a sheltered Mage, too strong to even relate to my struggle. Tell me, did you get an invitation to Nightmare?"

"Alex," Laura said. "I understand you're in pain. I'm here to help you, if you let me, but—"

"Bet you did, huh," Alex snapped. "And I bet you already knew not to take it. You know, Sister, I can't even remember properly all the people I killed that month. I'd thought I would at the time. I'd buried the first few, wedged sticks in the ground, prayed to fuck-all, and even engraved names for those who'd had their wallets. Stopped caring after a bit, of course. And in the end… well–"

Alex's voice caught in throat—those ethereal hands brushing it gently like a loosened noose. They all were watching, waiting. But he knew that what they waited for differed from each to each. If it were simply for his death, that would've been easy enough.

Instead… I…

Alex massaged his temple, a brief moment of clarity washing over him. "You know… talking about this really is kind of therapeutic, Sister. Or actually, maybe… I don't know. Oh—fuck me, it doesn't even matter. Nothing does, really. I know I'm just taking my frustration out on you. I mean, you're a con-woman, a hypocrite, probably a murderer in your own right—and you spread your faith like it's God's gift to the world and not a blight on it—but hey, it's not like I'm any better," He laughed. "That should be apparent by now."

Then he stopped laughing, frowning when he noticed he still felt no ill-intent from her. "Or is it fucking apparent?! Fuck you, Laura. At least I'm not a hypocrite. I mean, hell, just how do you even live with yourse—"

"We're not here to talk about me, Alex," Laura said. "I'm here to listen to you talk about yourself. Do you want to tell me what happened after that first month?"

He sighed. "Nothing much. I just grew sick of it all."

"So you became a blacksmith," she said.

"So I became a blacksmith," he confirmed. It was mostly the truth.

"And those three souls… were they your party members?"

Alex's eyes shot wide open. How could she… what? He couldn't even sense their presences at the moment.

"Would you like to tell me about them?"

His eye spasmed. "No. I killed them too, pretty much."

A silence hung heavy between them. Alex glanced aside. Laura stood straight, staring ahead, and he couldn't see her expression. So… unshaken. Like all this was nothing to her.

"I… see," she said smoothly. "Alex, this is just an observation, but you can't have possibly killed as many people as your profile displays within a month."

"Is that all you have to say?"

"I'm sorry… if that's not proper. I don't know how your priests played this part. I just want to be here for you, but the Seven Sisters cannot absolve you of any sins until you've unburdened yourself of this darkness in your—"

"Oh please, Laura. I don't care if I'm absolved. And if you were half the saint you pretended to be, you'd have taken one look at my profile and sent me right back home."

"Alex, that's not—"

"But I do have more to confess, actually," he interrupted. "I mean, I've already confessed to all the sins that actually burden me; if anything, all the other people I killed just alleviated my guilt. I know your order teaches that all life has value, but you'll still hear me out, won't you?"

She took a breath. "Yes."

"Good. Have you heard of the Umbral Court?"

"The Umbral…" she paused. "I… have. They were notorious for hunting and preying on weaker Awakened, yes? But they vanished…"

She trailed off.

"Then you've probably also heard of Red Dragon or Gilded Claw," Alex said. "Similar guilds, similar end."

"Alex…"

"You've done your research, Laura—I bet you already know the public stuff, so I'll skip that. But I was in a dark place once grace period began. There was no smithing work for me, and I obviously wasn't marketable with my Blacksmith class. I got ruthlessly driven out of the crafting industry by the guilds, and I never had my foot into the adventuring industry, so I was really only left with two options: I could either scrape by as a useless member of society…or I could become a detriment to it.

"Neither sounds very fun, does it?"

"...No," she admitted.

"Yeah. I didn't really want either, but the first was easier at least. And I was on track for a pauper's death, when I unwittingly stumbled upon a third option, and developed a sort of…hobby. A method to quickly gain wealth while also giving back to the world."

"So you were the one who…?"

"Oh, so you can take a guess. Yeah, I did that. And don't give me that "all life has value" bullshit—those guilds were a fucking plague and no-one with any bit of power gave two shits about them. The Umbral Court, Gilded Claw… they were both smart enough to fly under the radar; while everyone else was too busy fighting each other to establish authority, they operated on a level where exterminating them wouldn't be worth the resources. People just reasoned that another guild would pop up in their place anyway, and even the Administration's "crackdowns" were nothing but PR stunts. If you remember, Laura, the Seven Sisters didn't do anything about them either."

He waited to see if she would refute that. She didn't.

"But you know the funny thing about the kinds of people that run those guilds? They can never take what they dish-out. It's almost like they struggle to imagine someone doing the same things they do to them. I perceived a gap in the market, and I filled it."

He left another space for her response. It didn't come.

"What, got nothing to say to that, huh?"

He scratched at his eye again.

"…Alex, I'm sure your actions saved a lot of people, but are you certain you don't feel any guilt?"

"Of course I am. Why? Does that offend you?"

Once again, nothing.

"That's not why I did it anyway! It was just a good outlet for my anger—I'm sure you can tell by now I have issues. I probably should've worked a disability clause into the contract: something like "Please don't kill me if I call your gods out on their bullshit". Do they still make those sort of accommodations these days?"

More silence. Alex grit his teeth.

"And it was just an easy way to make some money! Did I not make myself clear?

"…And I wasn't terrible at it, either, you know. The first time, they actually came to me and I was their victim—cause naturally, they didn't want to legitimize the process and reveal their Death Marks. I'd just been stoked that someone finally wanted to work with me, but the moment we sat down to talk, I could tell exactly what was up from the way they eyed the gear I'd smithed. I almost walked off then and there. But then I thought to myself: Why not? And like I said, I wasn't bad at it. As it turns out, people don't expect Blacksmiths to be capable warriors or to have stealth skills. It was much easier than you'd expect, Laura. I was getting so much Essence and items from these people that I didn't even care about their souls tagging along for the ride. What's a few more to the list?"

There was no ventilation in the booth. Sweat glistened in Alex's hand as he tapped his finger.

"Even now, those fuckers are waiting to watch me die!" He shouted. "And do I give a fuck?!"

He didn't. Even as his chest tightened and his head pulsed. They could give him nightmares whenever he dreamt, they could expel all the air from the room, but they couldn't inflict any real harm.

"Of course, I couldn't keep playing around for long," he continued. "As soon as these fuckers learned someone was out for them, it became a matter of survival again. Me or them, so I killed them all. And I probably did save a lot of lives. Is that really something I should feel guilty for?

"Well?!" Alex snapped "Say something dammit! Are you fucking mute?!"

Why the hell had Laura gone so silent? Had his words upset her or something? From just this?

"…how were you certain they meant you harm?" she asked.

Alex suddenly regretted asking her to speak. Of course she was going to catch that.

"I have an ability," he admitted.

"Dangersense?"

He shrugged. He shouldn't have even told her that much.

"Wait—this ability, was it an inherent trait?"

"Why? Does this matter?"

He felt a slight pressure descend from above. The Seven Sisters really were watching over him now.

"…No," Laura said.

The uncertainty in her voice made Alex suspicious. His eye seemed to itch endlessly, no matter how much he scratched it.

"And, with this ability, you were able to ascertain these individuals wished to kill you—"

"Or worse."

"Or worse. But were there any among them who didn't wish you harm?"

"No."

"Did you feel malice from them each individually, or was it just a single source?"

"No." Alex answered vaguely. "Do you usually torture people between asking these questions?"

"I…" Laura trailed off. Alex could hear her calming breaths becoming more uneven. "…I went off topic, sorry. So you picked a fight with these groups?"

"I didn't pick a fight." Alex said. "You have to remember, the existence of these guilds wasn't common knowledge back then. Sure, there were whisperings about bad actors banding together, but they were baseless rumors. More like the scary stories adventurers tell each other than anything substantial. I thought I'd be fine as long as I didn't leave anyone alive.

"Obviously, that wasn't the case."

"But… you're still here," Laura said in disbelief.

"Unless I'm just a ghost, then yeah, I guess so. Gilded Claw and… White Diamond—they were a smaller group—I managed those ones on my own. I had my ways and they worked for a bit. Then they all started working together… which was when Orion came knocking."

He could almost feel Laura's disdain at the name through the veil.

"I don't like him either but he's the same as all those other fuckers in the night sky from where I stand. Only difference is that he'll get me out of a tight spot if I grovel and lick his boot like a dog. It wasn't the Sisters you're so proud of that paid me a visit then, was it?"

"Alex, the Seven Sisters are very tolerant, but it's not wise to keep disparaging them. I understand—"

"What do you understand?" Alex said. "I told you to stop pretending, and why don't they stop pretending while they're at it. You're a priestess and this is a holy place—if they have an issue they can just smite me and be done with it!"

"...Do you have any other sins you'd like to confess?"

Alex thought back on the branding the Coalition had given him with a venomous smile. He opened his mouth—then spasmed, wheezing for breath.

"A soul branding," she murmured. "You accidentally killed someone important, didn't you?"

Wasn't much of an accident.

"Well, that's pretty much it," he said, standing up. "Confessed everything that was on my chest and man, do I feel great for it."

"Wait," Laura said. "We're not done."

Alex sneered, aware that she couldn't see his expression through the veil. He didn't know what he'd even come here for, but even now she didn't express her real emotions. It appeared it'd all been a waste.

"You're not the one who decides that," he said. His head pounded; his shoulders were weighed down. "I have nothing left to confess."

He untightened his fists, reaching to pull aside the curtains when Laura's voice suddenly took on a static tone.

"Sit back down," she demanded.

Alex froze. Divine energy pressed in all around him, and he obeyed, involuntarily sinking back onto the bench. A chill climbed up his back from her Constellation's attention and he wondered if maybe he'd gone too far. Then it disappeared, and it was just the two of them again.

"How did it feel?" Laura asked.

"W-What?"

Alex groaned, his voice hoarse.

"Killing all those people… How did it make you feel?"

Alex clutched his head. "What the hell did you just do to me?!"

His head pounded incessantly and now his vision outright swam.

"Answer the question. How did it feel?"

Divine Energy flooded him—arising an involuntary compulsion to answer.

"How do you think it felt?" he spat. "They were rotten bastards! It filled me with joy to—"

Alex seized. A sharp pain jolted through his body in a flash of golden light.

"Why did you kill all those people?"

His expression twisted in rage. "You're not going to lecture me, are you, Laura?! You can take your "just causes" and shove it where even your filthy goddesses' light won't reach! Killing is killing and I did the world a favor getting rid of them! Really, I was only looking to get an essence stone or two out of—arrgh!"

Alex spasmed on the ground, his nose leaking blood as he waited for the pain to end. The seconds seemed to stretch into eternity before they passed. He doubled over, breathless.

"Alex, you asked for a confessional," Laura said, her tone impassive and hard to read. "It hurts me to see you in pain, and I'm here to guide you through this. But in order to do that, you need to stop lying to me—please. Why did you kill those people?"

"This isn't the Catholic way," he hissed through gritted teeth.

"And I thought I made it clear that I'm not Catholic. Stop stalling."

Alex cursed. He should've been more wary about how a religious Mage Order practiced their confessions.

"I'm not answering. If it pleases your Gods, then you can just sentence me like any other common criminal! I already confessed that I did it, isn't that all you need?!"

Silence emanated from the other side—but still no ill-intent. From Laura at least. Perhaps her Gods would have other opinions, and so be it. Enough of the souls clawing at his astral body hadn't deserved what he'd given them—enough to warrant whatever the Seven did to those they found guilty.

Then three more hands rested on his body and a sudden panic surged through him at the thought of death. He gritted his teeth, climbing back onto the bench. Gods be damned what Douglas, Oscar, or Julia thought of it. They weren't there—he was!

"Alex, I want to hear it of your own volition," Laura said, "Please don't make me force an answer out of you. Why did you—"

He opened his mouth, then closed it. His hand went to his sword. He couldn't let her leave alive, not after this. His hand shook as he drew an inch of steel—

But then, Julia's ethereal hands wrested his grip away from his sword, her presence an unrelenting weight on his soul. Hers was the most haunting spirit of all. And then she was gone again, drowned beneath the rest.

"Alex, please…"

He remained silent.

"Why did you kill them?"

Alex resisted the urge to answer and spasmed in pain once more. His heart thundered. He realized this wasn't going to end, and yet… to this woman, of all people? He wouldn't…

"You're… asking me to put my heart on bare?" Alex asked. "When you're the one who's been playing a character?!"

"Alex, I know—"

"No you don't! I came here solely to piss you off, and yet you want to help me? You pretend I have compassion? That I have qualities you admire?! There's no reason for you to keep pretending, Laura! I didn't even give a shit about your other aims anymore! Just…"

His lip quivered. He bit it, his face twisting into something ugly. He'd lost it. He knew full well. Laura took short, pained and angry breaths from the other booth. Maybe she was a saint—to dislike him so much and still wish him no harm.

"Why…" She seemed to struggle with her words. "Why did you take those lives—"

"Because I was angry!" he yelled. "People who take advantage of others for mere scraps of power sicken me! There's no redemption for people like that! There's no—"

He choked back his next words. That should be enough. He'd answered her question truthfully—so that should be enough, right?

It wasn't. Divine Energy threatened to send him into pain again, and more than that… He could feel their hands—Douglas, Oscar, Julia. Theirs and so many others. Slowly, those hands lifted, brushing up his shoulder, trailing his collarbone, their touch gentle, ethereal on his skin as they drifted upward, wrapping themselves around his neck. Squeezing.

"Penance," he whispered.

That word shriveled out of him like a dying breath. He couldn't control the waver in his voice, the way it sounded so small. "Because my life isn't my own," he said. "And there was no other way to repent for… for being so… weak."

Alex's scarred eye twitched and leaked as he stared ahead, in disbelief at the words coming from his mouth. He'd hadn't known they'd sound so…

And even that wasn't enough to appease the Divine Energy. He scrunched his eyes. "Because I can't give myself what I… So I… I killed them. I infiltrated…"

Alex hung his head, his nails raking across his biceps where they gripped his skin. "While they bathed… or were shitting… after they'd had sex or whenever their guard was… down, I killed them."

"…And how did it make you feel?" Laura asked.

Alex chuckled, drawn out of his daze. "Nothing. Is that what you want to hear?"

"Alex—"

"At first I felt something," Alex said. "I laughed at their jokes, I learned their names and stories… They were just people, Laura. But killing them would make the world a better place… so I did. It was hard at first, but eventually… nothing. Nothing…"

Alex trailed off. He wasn't sure when that divine pressure had lifted, or when those hands receded. But he'd said enough…

"You felt nothing?"

Alex inhaled sharply as that compulsion arose again. His arms were raked bloody where he'd gripped them. Yet the pain felt a mile away, as though his body was nothing but an empty husk. As though the real him had fled, leaving a shell that was no longer human.

"I felt… hollow," he corrected, uncaring for whatever difference it made.

He did. He was hollow. And yet… she'd forced her way in, regardless. Even after everything he'd just told her?

His jaw trembled. The evil spirits had quieted, but an anger purely his own arose to fill the space. He was dreadfully tired, and it was only a facsimile of a fire, but it burned all the same, twisting his expression. He looked up, as though staring at the heavens directly through the confessional booth's roof.

"Well then?" he scoffed. "Do those Seven bitches up there forgive my sins?"

He waited as the Constellation's presence bore down on him, thir pressure weighing on his soul.

"Yes," Laura said. "The Seven Sisters forgive your sins."

Then I guess I won't be dying today, he thought dully.

He sat motionless, an empty husk in truth now. Laura sat deadly still as well, her dead silence emanating from the booth next to his. He was too tired to think, and as he heard Laura get up and leave her booth, even the urge to kill her had fled.

Then she peeled back the curtain to his booth. A dark storm of emotions on her face—so unlike her, so opposite of her picture-perfect act—that he felt like he was glimpsing an entirely different person.

"The Seven Sisters forgive your sins, Alex," she said. "But I don't."

She said it with her typical pleasant nonchalance—so pleasantly that he didn't process what was happening until her fist connected with his jaw. Pain flared, waking him up. She'd launched herself at him, much faster and stronger than she had any right to be. Some dull instinct yelled for him to throw her off, but he wasn't quick enough.

Laura pinned him against the bench. Her knees dug into his thighs beneath her habit robes, and her hands slammed his wrists against the wall. She stared down at him, a rabid look in her eyes as he tried to force her off. His feelings came back to him in a flood, but there was no time to be confused. His strength stat was higher—where was all this strength coming from?! He twisted and squirmed, and only slowly managed to break free.

She tilted her head back, a devilish look in her eyes.

"Y-You bitch!" he stammered. "Don't you—!"

Laura broke his nose on her forehead with a sick crunch. His right hand broke free of her grip and grabbed her by the braids. Then she elbowed him across his chin, whiting out his vision.

"Go-goddammit—"

He yanked on her braids, tearing her off him, then sent a kick barreling into Laura's solar plexus. She doubled over, gasping for air, and his hand instinctively went for his sword—then stopped. He backhanded her across the cheek.

"What the hell?!" he shouted. "Why are you—"

"You asked for this, Alex! So shut up and take it!"

She spat out a tooth. Before he could get another word in, she started emanating a golden glow. Then she surprised him again by charging low and tackling him. Panicking, he pounded on her back, barely keeping the whereabouts to avoid her spine.

Laura grunted past the pain, an otherworldly strength possessing her as she launched both of them off the ground and into the wall. Wood broke against the back of Alex's head, concussing him further. They hurtled through the side of the confessional in an explosion of splinters, fighting for dominance. Laura split Alex's lip. He elbowed her temple while she…she bit him! Her hands squeezed his neck; he tugged her hair again; they tumbled side over side, refusing to relinquish their grip to the other. Once he had her pinned he kneed her in the crotch. She gasped and he reared his head back for a headbutt of his own—

Then snarled and kicked him in the balls. She hooked her leg around his and, in some kind of judo move he'd never seen, flipped their momentum. Threads of light bound his ankles to the ground.

She straddled him, sending a flurry of punches at his face. He struggled but her strength was uncanny and his movements were restricted. Sometime during the tumble Alex's concussion had worsened. He could barely keep up. He thrashed, blocking with his elbows until those threads of light tightened even more. He finally landed his headbutt and bloodied her nose, but when he saw it again, it was no longer crooked. Healing magic.

Alex stopped trying after that. Laura had her left fist around his collar, her right fist poised for another blow. He let himself go limp.

The pain was barely anything anymore.

"You want to be judged so badly, do you?!" Laura screamed. Her fist slammed into Alex's cheekbone, coming away raw and bloody. "You think you're the only one who's sinned, Alex? Who's had to bloody their hands to get by?!"

She punched him again. Alex saw her looming there above him, blurry in his sight until her fist connected with his eye and that side's vision went dark.

"All that self-pity!" she shouted. "All that self-hatred! What good does it do anyone?! Do you even know how much it hurts me to be around you?!"

She punched him again, perhaps too hard because she healed him back before her other fist connected. His brain struggled to catch up to what she was saying. Confusion colored his thoughts. Something… was wrong.

"I understand, Alex! I know the way you think!"

She slammed his head against the flooring.

"You think you have nothing good to offer the world—but is that what that girl will think when she receives your gift?!"

Laura punched harder this time. Pain.

"All you did was kill—and you call that penance?! You think that's what your party wanted?!"

"That's not penance!" She yelled. "That's Punishment! Can't you see what you've done to yourself…?"

Her punch blurred; something wet splattered against his cheek.

"And still, you can't imagine it. Everyone else only thinks of themselves. And you… you can't fathom there's anything about you to like…"

Laura heaved, her chest swelling with each breath. Her fist unraveled and fell to her side. Alex blinked as something wet fell again. Then he realized what was wrong. From the second Laura launched herself at him, through every punch she'd thrown… she had never shown ill intent.

Not even once…

"It breaks my heart," she whispered, "You can't… value life anymore, can you Alex? Not even… not even your own…"

A warm light enveloped Alex, healing his wounds. His vision clarified enough to see tears streaming down Laura's cheeks. She was… crying? But her eyes weren't just sad. They were wild, vehement, and excruciatingly pained—desperate. Those tears she shed… She was crying for him…

The air was damp and humid and everything else in the world seemed to fall away. The sound of their ragged breathing was the only thing between them. The hand around Alex's collar flattened against his chest. His nose righted itself, and the sweltering bruises faded. It was healing magic—but not just healing magic. He felt life and emotion fill his being, almost making him human again. His thoughts found clarity with each passing second until his mind finally connected the pieces.

He met Laura's eyes, "No way… you're…"

"Yes, Alex," she said, "I'm an Empath."

Alex looked up at the ceiling, his concussion fading. "That's…"

Terrifying. Violating. A blatant misuse of power!

"That's… embarrassing," Alex said weakly. He blushed.

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