Noir gasped as he came to, chest heaving, in a grand cathedral bathed in soft, flickering light. Shadows shifted along the high arches, but the oppressive darkness that had clung to him was gone.
He blinked, taking in the scent of incense and the figure before him—a person seated calmly, brush in hand, painting with fluid, deliberate strokes.
The head priest wore flowing white robes that fell around him like liquid moonlight. His narrow eyes glimmered with gentle intensity, and his face, delicate yet commanding, carried an androgynous charm.
Dark hair framed sharp features softened by subtle warmth. Noir couldn't tear his gaze away; each stroke of the brush seemed to hum in the air, a quiet rhythm that contrasted sharply with the chaos he had survived.
Leaning slightly forward, the priest worked with an elegance that blended the discipline of an artist and the presence of a guardian. When he finally looked up, his expression softened, and a small, comforting smile broke across his lips. Noir felt a strange flicker of hope, though unease lingered.
"Oh, you're awake," the priest said, voice smooth and melodic. "I was concerned you might remain trapped in a state between sleep and wakefulness."
Noir's eyes narrowed. He had seen Soo Ah, the seer who had saved him, moments ago—but she was nowhere in sight. His mind shifted uncomfortably. Where had she gone? And why had she left him in this place?
The priest's lips curved in a playful smile. "Your worried face is quite entertaining. It reminds me of Edward Munch's The Anxiety of a Young Woman. That raw mixture of fear and tension—you resemble it perfectly."
Noir tilted his head, caught off guard by the comment. "Um… thank you?"
The priest chuckled softly. "Never mind that. I should introduce myself properly. I am Yuusha Yurikabe, head of the Ise Order. Our mission is to confront the forces born from human sins, to manage rippers, and eliminate threats tied to corruption."
Noir's heartbeat quickened. He knew the Ise Order was vast and influential, and here he was, meeting its head directly. It was almost surreal, but he forced himself to focus.
Yuusha set down the brush and regarded him steadily. "I've been informed about your encounter with the ruby."
Noir's stomach twisted. He glanced down—and realized it was no longer on his chest. The weight of it gone, the pendant that had been both comfort and curse.
"It's under our protection now," Yuusha explained gently. "We are using it for the greater good—establishing protective barriers around the Ise Order and other sanctuaries. You've kept it safe for years, but its purpose is larger than individual possession."
Noir exhaled slowly, trying to reconcile his sense of loss with understanding. "I see." He studied the priest carefully, noting the same warmth in his gaze, the same calm command in the room. There was no malice, no judgment—only measured certainty.
"Tell me your name," Yuusha said softly, tilting his head. "If we are to proceed, we should begin with the basics. Identity forms the foundation of intent."
Noir," he said, voice low but steady. "Noir Adélard."
Yuusha set his brush down and regarded him more directly now, eyes narrowing with faint interest. "Names carry weight. But sometimes, it's what we hide behind them that reveals the most."
Noir felt a stir in his chest—wariness, curiosity, and something else he couldn't name. "What are you getting at?"
"Only that you walked into the heart of the Ise Order with the look of someone dragging a story behind him." Yuusha folded his hands in his lap.
"People don't wear that expression unless they're chasing something. Or someone."
The words hit too close.
Noir looked away for a moment, jaw tightening. Chasing someone. That was exactly what he'd been doing since childhood—chasing a shadow, chasing a memory stained in blood, chasing the one truth that refused to show its face.
"You came here for answers, didn't you?" Yuusha asked softly.
A slow breath escaped Noir. There was no point hiding it. "Yes."
"Then you may find the Ise Order more useful than you expected." Yuusha's smile returned, gentle but oddly sharp. "We have ways of uncovering truths that most of the world cannot grasp."
Noir's pulse kicked up. Something in the priest's tone—quiet, confident, almost inviting—pulled him forward like a hook. It wasn't arrogance. It wasn't cruelty. It was certainty.
And that certainty did something to him.
For the first time since he opened his eyes in this cathedral, Noir felt the path beneath his feet shift. Not away from danger, but toward possibility.
Yuusha Yurikabe wasn't what he had imagined. He wasn't distant or dismissive or wrapped in the cold armor of power. He was present. Attentive. And he spoke with the kind of assurance that made Noir feel like answers weren't impossible—just hidden behind the right door.
A door Noir might finally be standing in front of.
The thought struck him hard and fast:
"This is it."
This was the moment he'd never expected to have—not so soon, not so suddenly, not in a place like this.
With resolve settling in his chest like a flame igniting his spirit, Noir prepared to seize this moment. The path to finding vengeance, and possibly redemption, lay before him.
"What do you know about this man?" Noir asked, presenting the faded fabric he had held onto since childhood, with the distinct emblem of Ise Order carved on it.
Yuusha studied Noir closely, his expression shifting to one of genuine curiosity. "What is it about this man that has you so eager to learn more?"
Noir hesitated for a moment, then replied, his voice steady yet filled with unspoken pain. "He took the world from me, and I won't let him get away with it."
A sly smile crept onto Yuusha's face as he absorbed Noir's words. "Ah, I see. The fire of vengeance burns strong in you. But let me tell you, that emblem you hold… it's fabricated," he stated, his tone suddenly serious.
"Someone has gone to great lengths to create this false representation."
"The man you seek isn't truly a seer of the Ise Order; he's a sinner who has cleverly disguised himself as one. There are many who hide among us, concealing their true nature under layers of deception."
He met Noir's gaze, a calculating glint in his eyes. "It's possible that this man still roams freely, blending in while others chase shadows. Just imagine the webs he weaves, all the while playing a dangerous game."
He leaned back slightly, allowing the weight of his words to linger in the air, leaving Noir to ponder the implications of his cunning insights.
"Tell me his true identity!" Noir screamed, his breath hitching in his throat. Panic surged through him as he sensed that Yuusha held secrets about the man—truths that could shatter the fragile hold on his resolve.
To his surprise, Yuusha stood fluidly, dusting off his pristine white robes with an air of calm. A sweet, almost mocking smile danced on his lips. "What makes you think you have the authority to command me like that?"
Noir's eyes widened, unblinking, a mixture of disbelief and mounting frustration coursing through him. This response was far from what he had anticipated. "Huh?"
"Besides," Yuusha continued, his tone drifting into a silky cadence, "why would I divulge such confidential information to an outsider whom I've barely known?"
With each word, Noir felt a surge of indignation, but also a creeping sense of dread. Yuusha's words wrapped around him like a tightening noose.
"Dare I say, you look like you'd break into pieces if I revealed the man's identity. You can't handle it."