Single Part
The nun was kneeling on the cold marble floor of the church, her head bowed in silent prayer. The church was vast, with tall, imposing pillars rising up to the vaulted ceiling. The stained-glass windows, illuminated by a golden light, depicted scenes of saints and martyrs, their calm and serene faces watching over the young woman in her devotion. The scent of incense lingered in the air, soft and comforting.
The figure of the priest appeared before her, dressed in a black robe adorned with a simple but imposing silver collar. His eyes were fixed on her, serene but with an unquestionable weight of authority. He walked to the altar, his steps echoing softly, before turning to face her, his hands crossed in front of his chest.
"Sister Chrysa..." The priest's voice was soft but firm, as though every word carried truth.
"You know the purpose for which I have called you here, just like all those before you."
The nun raised her gaze, still kneeling, her face showing doubt and fear. "Father, I... I don't know if I'm ready." Her voice came out almost as a whisper, filled with hesitation.
"Sister Denise... she was taken before she could understand the true purpose of her mission. I fear... I fear I will follow the same path."
The priest slowly approached, his eyes never leaving the nun's face. "Just like Sister Denise, you have a role in this world, my child. A role given by the Creator. We must not question His designs, only fulfill them with faith and obedience."
He paused, studying her reaction. "The Chief of the Raven Guard has asked us a favor, a request from the highest order. You understand, don't you? As servants of the Creator, it is our duty to answer. When those in positions of power ask for our help, they are, in truth, asking in the name of the Creator Himself."
The nun lowered her head again, her trembling hands clasped together in prayer. The weight of his words hit her hard. She knew her life had always been dedicated to service and obedience, but the request made... it was far more than she had ever imagined she would have to endure.
"But... what if I fail?" Her voice was laden with doubt, a question that echoed in the vast space of the church.
"What if I'm not strong enough?"
The priest slowly knelt until he was at her level, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You will not fail because the Creator is with you. He chose you for this purpose. Your faith will be your strength, and your devotion will be your shield. Just like Sister Denise, who sought to fulfill her role until the end, you must fulfill yours."
He stood again, looking at the large cross hanging over the altar, his gaze fixed on the figure of the martyr nailed to the wood. "The word of the Creator is clear. We serve with everything we have, without question. He has already laid out your destiny, and now it is up to you to follow it with unwavering faith."
The priest once again approached the nun with slow, deliberate steps, his eyes never leaving hers. As he came closer, he extended his hands with solemn calm, gently holding her face. His fingers, cold and rough, touched her trembling skin. The nun's eyes welled with tears.
"My child..." he said, his voice low, almost a whisper.
"Do not worry. The great Creator never abandons His children, even in the midst of the desert, in suffering... He is always there, watching, guiding. There is no despair that cannot be overcome, no pain that cannot be endured, if it is to fulfill His will."
His words were soft but filled with unshakable conviction, as if the priest were the Creator's own messenger, and his presence an anchor amidst the storm of doubts that plagued the nun.
She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the priest's hands gently pressing her face. "But... what if I fall, Father? What if I'm not strong enough to bear what's to come?"
The priest smiled, a small and enigmatic smile, as if he knew something she had not yet understood. "You will be strong because your strength does not come from you. It comes from the Creator. He gives each of us the burden we can carry, and if He has given you this mission, it is because He knows you are capable. None of His children are left without comfort, without solace. When the path seems impossible, remember: you are not alone."
He slowly released her face, the touch of his hands leaving a cold and strange sensation. He stepped back, but his gaze remained fixed on her, as if he were waiting for an answer, for her complete surrender to the Creator's will.
The nun swallowed hard, her voice fragile. "I... I understand, Father. I will do what is necessary. For His will."
The priest nodded slowly, satisfied with her response. "So it must be." He turned to the cross once more, the figure of the martyr casting a long shadow on the marble floor.
"Now, go in peace, sister. Your mission is about to begin."
***
"You are not alone."
The nun's eyes shot open suddenly, gasping for air, her chest heaving as her eyes tried to focus on the scene before her. Her vision had turned into a living nightmare. Don stood in front of her, brandishing his sword, blocking the advance of Liam, a monstrous beast. The werewolf charged with claws ready to tear, saliva dripping from his open jaws, revealing teeth sharp as blades. The deadly gleam in his eyes left no doubt about his intent: hunt, devour, destroy.
"Stay behind me!" Don shouted, his arms trembling under the force of the creature's blows. Don's blade seemed ineffective; with each strike, it was like hitting a wall of pure muscle and fury. The sound of metal meeting the werewolf's tough flesh was drowned out by Liam's roars, each attack more ferocious than the last.
The nun tried to move, but her legs shook so much she could barely stand. She collapsed to her knees, desperate, her face wet with tears as she muttered a disjointed prayer, her voice trembling and broken. "Please, Creator... save me... give me strength... I... I did what they asked..." Her body shook, and her eyes closed as if she awaited the final blow that would end her life.
Suddenly, a flash of light cut through the darkness of the forest. Pallas appeared, a blade in his hand radiating a silvery glow under the moonlight, like a star amidst the shadows. His steps were swift but measured, the gleaming sword spinning in his hands with lethal precision. He positioned himself beside Don, with a calmness that was frightening given the magnitude of the creature before them.
"Hey!" Pallas shouted, trying to catch the beast's attention, but without hesitation, he launched himself into the attack. With a quick and precise strike, his blade sliced through the air, targeting Liam's flank. The sword was no ordinary one — it was wrapped in magic, an almost ethereal glow trailing behind it.
Liam, however, was quick. He twisted his body, his hind legs propelling him off the ground with brutal force. His claws tore at the earth, and he dodged the direct blow, launching himself at Pallas. His claws came from above, aiming to slash Pallas's face, but Pallas defended with his sword, sparks of light flying at the contact. The force of the impact pushed Pallas backward, his feet sinking into the damp forest soil.
The werewolf roared, a sound that nearly stopped the nun's heart. She curled up even tighter, her prayers becoming a whirlpool of panic. "Please... please... please..." Her voice nearly vanished amid the chaos around her.
"Focus, Don!" Pallas commanded, his voice as sharp as the blade he wielded. He moved forward again, this time aiming for Liam's legs, attempting to sever his tendons and limit his movement. But the werewolf was incredibly agile for his size. He leapt, dodging Pallas's strike, and in the same motion, attacked Don with a furious snarl.
Liam growled, his body twisting as he tried to lunge again, his claws digging into the muddy ground as he fought through the pain of Pallas's strike. His eyes, once human, now reflected only fury and animal instinct, locked on the kneeling nun a few meters away. He wanted blood. He wanted human flesh.
But Pallas was there, between him and his target, relentless. The blade still shone with the moon's light, and he didn't hesitate to use it to block another charge from Liam. The clash of steel against the monstrous claws echoed through the clearing, sparks briefly lighting up the growing darkness of the forest. The commander dug his feet into the ground, holding his position.
"Take the nun! Now!" Pallas yelled, his voice cutting through the heavy rain and the beast's threatening growls. One of the guards, further back, nodded and rushed toward the fallen woman, but hesitated, fear evident in his eyes as he looked at the monster. Even wounded, Liam still radiated raw power.
The nun remained motionless, still trapped in terror, her inaudible prayers blending with the sound of the wind and rain. She couldn't move on her own, her muscles frozen in a mix of panic and exhaustion. The guard finally grabbed her by the arm and began dragging her away, but Liam noticed the movement. His wild eyes locked onto the nun, and a deep growl escaped his throat.
With a burst of speed, Liam launched forward, his sharp claws cutting through the air toward the guard and the nun. He was focused, determined to reach his prey. I can't let this happen..., Pallas thought, his heart pounding in his chest. But before he could intercept the attack, William and Wilde stepped into his path.
"You'll have to go through us first!" William shouted, raising his sword with his left hand. His entire body trembled under the pressure of Liam's presence, but he didn't back down. Beside him, Wilde had his weapon ready, his breathing controlled as he studied the beast's movements. They knew that Liam's physical strength was unmatched, so they needed to use strategy and precision.
Liam attacked fiercely. His claws came from above with brutal force, aiming directly at William's chest. The mercenary raised his sword in defense, but the impact of the blow sent him flying backward, his feet dragging through the dirt as he struggled to keep his balance. Even though he blocked the hit, the shock made his arm ache as if it were about to break.
Wilde didn't waste any time. He moved around Liam, trying to find an opening. With a quick move, he struck directly at the creature's side. But before his blade could penetrate deeply, Liam twisted with impressive agility, hitting Wilde with the back of his hand and throwing him against a nearby tree. Wilde hit hard, letting out a painful groan as he fell to the ground.
"The monster is too fast!" William thought, watching Wilde try to get up. He knew they needed to slow him down somehow.
If we keep going like this, we're going to die one by one...
Liam let out a deep growl, and with a sudden movement, he broke free from William and Wilde's blockade. His claws tore through the air as he charged forward with beastly strength, knocking both men down in the process. The werewolf's eyes were fixed on a single target: the nun. His dilated pupils reflected pure savagery, and saliva dripped from his open jaws, hitting the ground. He was no longer a man. He was a beast.
"We can't let him pass!" Pallas shouted, but it was too late. Liam was already moving, his feet sinking into the muddy ground as he sprinted through the forest, tearing down trees and bushes as if they were nothing. Every step seemed to reverberate through the earth, and the sound of falling trees filled the air.
Don, William, Wilde, and Ed ran after him, desperate to stop the inevitable. "Pallas, what do we do?!" Wilde asked between ragged breaths, trying to catch up to the werewolf. But even with all their strength and skill, they were one step behind. The monster ran with monstrous agility, his claws ripping chunks of bark and dirt as he propelled himself forward. He was relentless.
The heavy rain turned the scene into something almost surreal, obscuring everyone's vision. All they could see was Liam's dark figure running, his silhouette standing out against the dense forest. Pallas tried to keep up, but he knew time was against them. "Don't let him get to her!" Pallas's voice was filled with urgency.
Liam advanced faster, leaping between trees, his sharp claws leaving deep marks on the trunks as he jumped from tree to tree, gaining speed. The force of his movements was overwhelming, his heavy breathing mixing with distant thunder.
Don's heart pounded in his chest. "If we don't stop him, she's lost." he thought, his mind racing for desperate solutions. But the werewolf seemed unstoppable.
How... how do you defeat something so... primal? His survival instinct fought against the idea of facing him head-on.
Liam leaped in one swift and brutal movement, his massive figure rising into the air for a brief moment before descending upon the nun. She looked up, her eyes wide with terror, her voice caught in her throat. And then, as if all her strength had been released at once, she let out a desperate scream, a sound that echoed through the forest and seemed to pierce even the storm.