Leaving the whining Issei and the cooling traces of the battle with the fallen behind, I headed for the hill where the silhouette of the old church loomed black. The night was thick and quiet, only my footsteps echoed off the walls of abandoned houses. The air grew cooler, carrying the scent of decay and… something else. That same pure, warm energy I had sensed earlier. It beckoned, like a lost will-o'-the-wisp in the darkness. Not that I cared about its fate, but curiosity—the only thing that could still stir my bored soul—took over.
The climb up the hill was short. An old stone staircase, overgrown with moss and weeds, led to the church's massive wooden doors, blackened by time. One door was torn from its hinges and lay nearby; the other clung on by a thread, creaking pitifully in a wind that barely existed. A spectacle of decay and desolation. The perfect place to hide... or to die.
I stepped inside without hesitation. The church's interior was a sad sight. Dust lay in a thick layer on everything: on the pews with their peeling paint, on the floor littered with fragments of stained glass, on the altar, long since stripped of all its holy items. Moonlight, breaking through holes in the roof and shattered windows, snatched dancing columns of dust motes from the gloom, creating a ghostly, almost unreal atmosphere. It smelled of old wood, mold, and... incense? No, more like that same warm, bright energy. It was emanating from somewhere deeper in, from behind the altar.
I moved forward, my steps echoing loudly under the vaults of the ruined temple. The dead silence pressed in on my ears, broken only by my own movement and the rare creak of rotting beams.
And there, in the gloom of the chancel, I saw her.
A girl. Barely more than a child. She was kneeling before the remains of the altar, her small figure in a simple nun's habit seeming fragile and lost in this kingdom of ruin. Light, almost golden hair spilled over her shoulders, framing a pale face with large, frightened green eyes. She was praying. Her lips moved, almost silently, her hands clasped in a gesture of prayer. That same soft, warm glow emanated from her—an aura of pure, untainted holy power.
She flinched upon hearing my footsteps and spun around. Terror flashed in her eyes as she saw me—a stranger, emerging from the darkness. She instinctively recoiled, pressing herself against the altar's cold stone.
"W-who are you?" her voice trembled like an autumn leaf in the wind.
I stopped a few steps away, looking her over. A nun. Very young. Frightened. And the wielder of a rare Sacred Gear—Twilight Healing, as the fallen angel had said. An interesting combination.
"The one who saved you from the company of the feathered bitch outside," I answered evenly, my voice sounding unexpectedly loud in the dead silence of the church. "You don't have to thank me."
She stared at me, not understanding. Fear mixed with bewilderment in her eyes.
"A f-fallen angel… You… you chased her away?"
"Let's just say I convinced her to change her location," I smirked. "She mentioned you. Said you were healing that half-wit demon. Why?"
The question was blunt, no frills. I wasn't about to beat around the bush.
The girl flinched again, her gaze darting to the exit as if seeking escape. But she stayed put, only lowering her head.
"He… he was hurt," she whispered. "I couldn't just walk by… My power… it's meant to help… everyone who is suffering… It doesn't matter if he's a demon or…"
"Even if that demon might have eaten you for breakfast?" I raised an eyebrow. "Naive."
"God teaches mercy…" her voice was barely audible, but it held an unshakable conviction. "I believe that even in a demon, there can be… something good…"
I huffed. What touching nonsense. In this world, kindness often bordered on stupidity and rarely went unpunished. This girl was living proof. Exiled from the Church for daring to heal the wrong person. Now hunted by the fallen, who wanted her power. All while her beloved God has long been dead. And all because of her "mercy."
"Twilight Healing, right?" I asked, watching her reaction.
She started, her eyes widening with surprise and a new wave of fear.
"How… how did you know?"
"That feathered chatterbox was quite talkative under pressure," I explained. "A valuable artifact. No wonder you're being hunted. Does Kokabiel want it? Or was it that… Kalawarner's… own initiative?"
"I… I don't know…" she whispered, hugging herself as if to ward off a chill. "I… I was exiled… I just wanted to find a place where I could help people… And then… they appeared… The fallen angels… They said my power was a sin, since I healed a demon… They wanted… to take it…"
Tears glistened in her green eyes. She looked so defenseless, so lost. Usually, scenes like this just made me itch or annoyed me. But now… something was different. Maybe it was the purity of her aura, her sincere, albeit naive, faith in good amidst this rotten world… it stirred a strange, almost forgotten feeling. Not pity, no. More like… curiosity. And a vague respect for her stubbornness.
"What's your name, nun?" I asked, softening my tone by a fraction.
"A-Asia… Asia Argento…" she stammered, still not daring to look up at me.
"Asia, huh," I repeated. "Well, Asia Argento, it looks like you're in deep. The fallen angels won't leave you alone as long as you have Twilight Healing. Especially if someone like Kokabiel is behind this."
I glanced around the ruined church.
"And hiding here isn't the best idea. This place is too obvious."
"But… where can I go?" Despair was in her voice. "I have no one… The Church renounced me…"
I shrugged.
"Not my problem. You could try the demons. That guy, Issei, serves Rias Gremory. She's a piece of work, sure, but she usually protects her servants. Maybe she'll take you under her wing."
Asia looked at me in horror. "To… demons? But… they're…"
"They vary," I cut her off. "Some are worse than the fallen, some are better than angels. Rias Gremory, at least, is somewhere in the middle. Spoiled? Yes. But she doesn't abandon her own. Your healing power would be useful to her. And she can give you protection. Not the worst option. Think about it."
I was about to turn and leave. My curiosity was satisfied. I'd found out who the wielder of the warm aura was, learned her name, and a bit of her story. The rest wasn't my concern. Let her decide her own fate.
But just then, I felt them again.
Several spikes of energy outside the church. Sharp, cold, full of malice. Fallen angels. More than just Kalawarner. And they were clearly heading here.
"Looks like your pursuers are back," I stated, turning toward the exit. "And it seems they brought reinforcements."
Asia scrambled to her feet in panic, her face white with terror. "Oh no… They found me… What do I do?…"
I stopped in the doorway, looking at the approaching shadows outside. There were three of them. One of them… her aura felt vaguely familiar. Stronger than Kalawarner's. More… vile.
"What to do?" I turned back to the trembling Asia. A wry smirk was probably playing on my face. "You can keep praying to your God. Or you can get behind me and hope I don't get too bored dealing with these feathered bastards."
A mocking female voice rang out from the darkness outside, the same one I'd heard once before, lost on the edges of memory.
"Oh-ho, look what we have here. The little saint and… who's this with her? A new protector? How sweet. But it won't help you. Twilight Healing will be ours!"
A figure appeared in the doorway. Raynare. The same fallen angel who had once killed Issei. Her face was beautiful but twisted in a cruel smirk. Behind her stood two more fallen, their spears of light already burning with an ominous fire.
They had come for Asia. And I was in their way.
'Well,' I thought, feeling the thrill of a fight begin to course through my veins. 'Looks like the evening just got interesting.'