Chapter 7
!The corpse of an angel!—Vector's surprise was logical, for anyone who had heard that in this world would have the same, or greater, reaction. An angel, a divine being that is said to live in the dimension of the heavens, but does not understand how it will help him revive. It is true that in ancient manuscripts there has been talk of angels with the ability to bring the dead back to life and cure incurable diseases, but even the greatest scholars have tried to recreate that magic without any result, since they are in an era too archaic for magic of that style.
—Yes, and it is somewhere in this kingdom. But tell me what you call Noel's Ark, but I will spare you the details, since if I wanted to, I could go and get my reward and leave here right now without helping the king.
—But how do you know the location of the ark?
—Are you forgetting that I'm using the king's body? My physical body got tired from performing the mist spell, so I made the king a perfect vessel while my body could return to its physical state. And besides, I don't feel like leaving here yet.
—Why? —Asmodeus, in response to the question, looks at the priest with a malicious face and says.
—There are three very funny things happening around all this right now—Vector looks confused at Asmodeus, his existence seems somewhat curious to him, for the first time in a long time he feels interested in someone and everything around him.
"I need you to go look for a wine in the conservation room," the priest obeyed without reproaching the curiosity that was left in his mind. He did not have the will to do it, a doll is better off keeping quiet.
Several minutes later—In the hallways.
The conservation room, its function was simple, it served to store wine or products that improve their quality over time. Everything was fine up to there on the trip, if it were not for the fact that one of the places through which to get there was Gilles' torture chamber. He walked with slow steps and silences while looking at the large windows, which gave a view of the lonely, desolate and gloomy city. The city that was once a representative of power and respect, was reduced to a lonely and trained fog that consumed its inhabitants. But continuing with the walk of the priest, when he passed exactly in front of Gilles' torture room, anyone would say that it would continue to change to avoid the. unpleasant sight, but on the contrary, he stopped and observed the scene closely. Gilles was torturing 3 older men, they had wounds, cut, signs of electric shock among other types of abuse to their body. If you wonder how there can be normal humans it's simple, Asmodeus has the ability to deny metamorphosis, although for those men it was preferable to remain a monster than to suffer constant torture. The priest's fixed gaze showed? he didn't know what it showed, anger, fear, satisfaction, desire, indifference, a mess of emotions he tried to name inside him. He continued walking with complete confusion, he didn't know what he felt, what he wanted, why he wanted it, and without realizing it while he was walking head down he collided with Asmodeus, causing him to fall into a sitting position.
—What did you feel when you saw that?—the question made the priest look at Asmodeus' face.
"I don't know," his voice was low, but to Asmodeus' ears it was clear.
—Well, it seems that Gilles really enjoys his... tastes, so to speak—he crouches down and stands face to face with Vector—. Don't you think?
"I don't understand how anyone could still feel some kind of satisfaction, pleasure or joy with that! These are blasphemies!" Asmodeus had never seen such an aggressive tone of voice from Vector, but for some strange reason this gave him satisfaction.
—Oh, Vector, why do you put pleasure in such a closed area? —He completely throws the priest into a face-up lying position, then goes up and sits between his crotch, looking down at him with domination and amusement, while the priest has no time to respond to the event. —Pleasure has no limits, it is not only pigeonholed in the sexual or the well-being, it is also achieved from evil and indifference. —He takes Vector's hands and directs them to his chest, squeezing them. —Sexuality is fine, but maybe you don't like simple, pure sex. —Vector begins to notice his breathing agitated, he had never in his life been in a situation of this kind. —So, why don't you enjoy something different from the usual? Not as a priest, but as a person—his voice was dominant, little by little he brought Vector's hands to his neck, and then began to squeeze them, the priest felt a tingling sensation running through his entire body, he felt his labored breathing, and the weak movements of Asmodeus' hips on top of him—. Do what you think is best—it wasn't an order, if he wants he can get out of this situation, but his impulses make him squeeze Asmodeus' neck, who far from being cunning is excited.
He squeezes his neck tightly, feeling his mind drift away. He doesn't know if he should stop or continue. At this rate he will suffocate Asmodeus <
YES! NO! YES? NO? NO YES.
<
Thinking about that question he quickly gets Asmodeus off of him, and runs in the opposite direction. Asmodeus for his part only touches his neck while smiling maliciously.
—Some town in the mist.
Rin is facing a large mist creature, although it was not actually very strong. But, Rin, instead of fighting with determination and speed as before, only dedicates herself to defending herself. Sherlock, seeing this, quickly ends the monster's life and approaches her.
—Are you okay? —her companion doesn't move a muscle and just stares down through her metal helmet—. We have to continue—she grabs her hand and they begin to walk through the place populated with houses, but empty of life.
"I'm hesitating," behind that great armor, Rin's distressed voice can be heard.
—Hesitating?—He looks in her direction.
—I thought killing the creatures was the right thing to do... But now I don't know. On the one hand I'm sure that what I'm doing will not only help my brother, but other people—her voice was heard very low—. Ever since you told me those words and I saw the story of the dancer, I thought that maybe it was true. I am a killer, I just didn't want to admit it—she squeezes the hilt of her sword tightly—. The mass of flesh, the armor and the dancer, they were all people before. With their own lives, their own stories, their own family—the afflicted voice makes Sherlock release her hand and look at her—. You kill the creatures and unlike me, you were aware of everything that killing a creature entails, you were snatching away from it with the knowledge that there was a possibility of salvation unlike me, who was ignorant. How do you take it so calmly? —Sherlock looks at Rin, her question passes through his mind and he thinks about it before answering
—I don't even know—these words don't give Rin any comfort—. I killed creatures, which means I also killed people, but it's them or us, it doesn't make it any less serious, but there are lives at stake. Isn't it right to help? We are assassins, who ironically have the mission of saving other people in exchange for the lives of some... It's the right thing to do, or at least that's what I want to believe.
Both of them are again hesitant, but Sherlock is clear about one thing: what they're doing isn't right, but it's not bad either; he has no interest in this when he started. They have to help the others. But Rin is still suspicious of her entire mission and the rocky path she found herself on without expecting anything.