"We are all born into darkness, and into darkness, we return."


    The priestess staggered as she descended the aisle. Her steps as uneven as a new-born deer—only her resolve left to keep her standing.


    Clinging cold to the sweat on her back, her robe bunched in her grip—a slick mess where her hand pressed to her waist. Her breath broken and stuttering. Crimson glossed over her fingers, warmth seeping through velvet, darkening her dress to midnight blue. Her very life was slipping away through her fingers.


    But, smeared across her cheeks, splattered over her lips—that blood was her not own.


    Tears diluted the deep red as they tracked down her cheeks. She stepped over a limp arm, her eyes fixed ahead.


    Bodies lay strewn across the aisles. Piled across the tiled floors, barricading the door—cut down the moment their determination fled.


    Her friends. Her flock. Her followers. Her family.


    So many bloodlines ended in a single night.


    And now, the chamber was still. Not a ripple. Not a twitch. And yet, she could still hear the echoes of their last words. Their screams. Their prayers. Their pleas.


    Shadowing her face, the priestess''s hood remained drawn, as if wanting to spare from her the sight of the carnage she had created.


    The pale marble, painted red. The moonlight reflected in slick puddles.


    Another stone fell from the arches.


    The temple crumbling. The ward fracturing.


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    And beyond the doors, Hewas fighting to stay awake.


    A thunderous pounding shook the frame.The pillars groaned, webs splintering through their carved bones.


    It would hold. For now. Just for long enough to—


    Her knees hit the stone.


    Pain rippled through her, but she crawled forward.Hands outstretched, slick with red, bracing against the altar.


    Above her, the god’s veiled image loomed.


    Captured in stained glass. Fractured, like her faith.


    She could not fail. She could not let their deaths be in vain.


    The cool light kissed her face as her gaze drifted up. A final moment of peace, or it would have been if she could forget what she had done. She had led them into the dark like a shepherd guiding sheep... and offered them to the wolf.


    But she didn''t know.


    She swore, she didn''t know.


    A roar like thundercracked through the air. The walls shuddered.The floor trembled as if desperately trying to hold, to give her time.


    Darkness bled through the clouds. The moon’s glow snuffed out, drowning the temple in shadows.


    Only afinal candle remained.A lone, flickering blue light sat on the altar. Still fighting. Barely illuminating her face.


    The priestess squeezed her eyes shut. A final breath. A final prayer. Her lips parted, but her voice failed her. Her words locked in her mind.


    "May the silence be empty."


    The candlelight shuddered. Wavered.It trembled as if pleading for her to reconsider.


    But there was no turning back. There was no mercy. Not while Hewalked the world.


    "May the end be the end."


    Her bloodied palm pressed against the altar cloth. A single, shaking sob slipped free.


    "May the Mother of Mercy take pity."


    The faintest ofwhispers. The most desperate of pleas.But what other god would show mercy, when she was condemning her own?


    The answerdidn''t matter.


    She had to make sure.


    No one else could follow their path.


    No one else could make the same mistake.


    She had to end it.


    "May the Nameless rest in eternal slumber."


    A shriek tore through the chamber.


    The ward collapsed.


    The doors splintered.


    The priestess’s eyes snapped open. Her hand flew forward, fingers curling around the abandoned dagger.


    "Your name dies with me."


    The door caved in.


    The blade came down.


    The candle went out.


    And then—


    The temple... fell silent.