Chapter 44: Yuki, you better not screw up
The night enveloped Lewis Center in an inky veil, the deserted streets bathed in the pale light of streetlamps.
At the same time.
St. Michael’s Church, a gray stone edifice with stained-glass windows depicting austere saints, stood at the heart of the city, its steeple piercing the sky like a sentinel. This was where Jane and Hannah attended services every Sunday.
Yara pushed open the heavy oak door, her combat boots clacking on the marble floor. Her black hair, cut in a sharp bob, framed a stern face, her green eyes scanning the darkness with precision. Dressed in a leather jacket and reinforced pants, she wore poisoned daggers at her belt, ready for action. A mercenary for the Order of Salvation, Yara wasn’t here to pray, but for a mission.
The church interior was silent, the scent of incense and melted wax lingering in the air. Wooden pews, polished by decades of worshippers, lined the Gothic arches. Yara descended a narrow staircase leading to the crypt, her footsteps echoing in the damp passage. An iron door, engraved with inscriptions unknown to the uninitiated, marked the entrance to a secret chamber. She knocked three times, and the door opened, revealing Father Dian in a black cassock. His white hair and wrinkled face contrasted with his piercing eyes, which seemed to see through the soul.
"Yara," he said, his voice raspy but authoritative. "You’re punctual, as always."
Yara raised an eyebrow, leaning against the cold stone wall. "I don’t have time for pleasantries, Dian. What did you call me for?"
The priest gestured for her to sit on a wooden chair near a table cluttered with parchments and flickering candles. The crypt, lit by torches, smelled of mildew and metal. Shelves groaned under the weight of parchments and relics—or rather, pseudo-relics. Dian sat, folding his hands. "The Wunder are flooding into Lewis Center. More than ever. The cause is a relic: the Medusa Coin."
Yara narrowed her eyes, her tone sarcastic. "A coin? Seriously? What’s the deal?"