"Let's move."
Noah's voice was steady, his eyes fixed on the massive iron doors behind the throne. The structure was imposing, but something about it sent a shiver down his spine.
Tall and silent, it loomed like a gatekeeper, daring them to pass through.
"Got it," John replied, gripping his weapon. They'd fought their way through countless enemies already, each encounter more dangerous than the last.
This was no time to relax.
As soon as they stepped forward, the steel doors groaned open, the sound reverberating through the empty hall.
Cold air seeped through the widening gap, carrying a faint odor of age and decay. Beyond the doors, a long marble staircase stretched into the shadows, its end hidden from view.
"Invidia... the power to copy what it lacks."
Noah muttered to himself, thinking out loud as he often did. His mind was always working, always calculating. It was how he'd survived for so long. But now, his tone was reflective, as though piecing together a larger puzzle.
"His title was... the primordial sin. If I'm right, there should be seven in total."
"Seven?" John echoed, though he already knew the answer.
"Pride, envy, lust, gluttony, sloth, wrath, and greed," Noah listed off calmly. "We took down envy. That leaves six more."
John's jaw tightened. "So, we're in for a long day."
"Yeah," Noah responded, eyes narrowing as he stared into the darkness beyond the staircase.
"And it's only going to get harder."
They began their ascent in silence, the marble steps cold and hard beneath their boot.
The faint, eerie light that illuminated the staircase made the walls seem to close in around them as they climbed higher and higher.
The silence between them wasn't uncomfortable—just the quiet understanding between warriors who knew words were unnecessary.
At the top of the stairs, they entered another vast hall—this one even larger than the last. The floor was an endless expanse of quartz tiles, each one gleaming faintly in the dim light that filtered in from unseen sources. The walls were lined with massive statues, each one depicting a figure draped in a heavy shroud. Their serene expressions peeked out from under their veils, almost as if they were slumbering.
Noah's eyes swept over the scene, but they settled on one figure in particular. At the far end of the hall, sitting on a throne carved from pure crystal, was another knight.
This one didn't stir at their approach. It sat slouched in its throne, the armored form motionless, as if in a deep, centuries-long slumber.
Noah frowned. Something about this one felt... different.
The knight appeared to be asleep, its head resting lazily on its right hand, which was propped up on the armrest. The knight's helmet was adorned with a long, flowing drape, and an eagle-shaped nose guard covered its face, giving it an air of nobility. A bright blue cloak draped over the knight's shoulders, a sharp contrast to the dark, black armor that covered its body.
For a moment, the knight remained still, unmoving. Then, slowly, it shifted.
A thick, dark cloud began to form around the knight, swirling around it in an unnatural haze. The cloud gathered in its right hand, where it clutched the hilt of a sword. But there was no blade—only the hilt, finely crafted, its basket guard intricate.
As the smoke condensed, it began to take shape, forming the missing blade out of thin air. The atmosphere around the knight thickened, growing heavier, darker.
For an instant, a name flickered above its head before disappearing just as quickly.
_________
AKEDIA
The Primordial Sin
_________
"Sloth..." Noah muttered, his eyes narrowing. Akedia, the sin of sloth. Its movements were slow, deliberate, but Noah could sense the immense power behind them.
The knight rose from its throne, each step heavy, as though the weight of the world was pressing down on it. Its lethargy was deceptive. Noah could feel the raw energy radiating from the knight's form. Even in its sluggishness, it was dangerous.
Noah's lips twitched into a faint smile.
Another battle awaited.
And he lived for this.
_____________
Far away, at De Witt Field, the sun had almost disappeared below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the landscape. The once-busy park was now quiet, the last remnants of daylight painting the buildings in shades of red and gold.
Kevin stood near the park's edge, watching the sun dip below the city skyline. His arms were crossed, his expression calm but alert.
"He's still not back?" Kevin asked, his voice steady, but there was an edge of concern.
"No... and I'm starting to worry," Isabelle admitted softly. She stood beside him, her gaze lost in the distance.
Kevin sighed. "It'd be better if Grace stayed with us tonight."
Isabelle nodded. "Yeah, it's safer that way."
The evening air was still, the silence between them growing heavier with each passing moment.
Tack
Tack
Tack
The sound of footsteps echoed through the empty street, breaking the quiet. A figure approached from the shadows, moving with an unhurried pace. As the figure came closer, the dim light revealed the familiar face of Father Jeffrey.
Dressed in his usual black robe, the priest's presence felt oddly comforting yet unsettling. His soft smile barely shifted as he approached them, his rosy lips forming a serene expression.
"John hasn't returned yet?" Father Jeffrey asked in a calm voice.
"No, Father..." Isabelle responded, her worry evident.
Father Jeffrey's smile remained steady.
"Don't worry. He's resourceful. He probably found another camp and stayed there since it's getting late."
Kevin frowned, but he nodded. "That sounds like John. He knows how to take care of himself."
Father Jeffrey's eyes twinkled as he spoke.
"Why don't you come to the rectory for the night? Bring Grace along. It's always good to see the light of God in the eyes of a child."
Isabelle hesitated, glancing at Kevin.
"I don't know..." she said softly.
Father Jeffrey's smile widened slightly.
"As you wish. Just know that the House of the Lord is always open to you."
Kevin sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Actually... it might not be a bad idea. Grace could use a distraction, and it's safer."
Isabelle gave it some thought before nodding.
"Yeah, you're right. Let's go."
Father Jeffrey's face lit up.
"Wonderful! I'll see you for dinner. I'm looking forward to it!"
With that, the priest turned and walked away, his steps light and quick.
As soon as his back was to them, his smile twisted into something darker. His lips curled into a malicious grin, and a thin line of saliva dripped from the corner of his mouth, running down his chin.
Yes... I'm looking forward to it.
The wolf in sheep's clothing thought, disappearing into the shadows with a malevolent gleam in his eyes.