The night is strange, as if sothing is about to happen. The bright full moon sits high above the night sky, akin to the pupil of an eye, seemingly the gaze of a divine being, coldly watching over the mortal earth alongside the stars.
Lorenzo stands dazed on the deserted street. He seems yet to recover from the breathtaking leap of this scene. The golden flas have scorched away all void, and then the world of mories unfolds before him.
This daze does not last long. Soon, he cos to realize these things cautiously, taking two steps forward, and then looking upon this familiar city with nostalgia and anxiety.
The buildings resemble towering spears, piercing the horizon of clouds. By day, the streets here are filled with devout believers, and at night, the prayers and holy songs never cease.
Indeed, he has done it, returned to the depths of mory, this city of faith and holiness, Seven Hills.
From Lorenzo’s understanding, he is one of the danzo Demon Hunters, guarding Saint Nalos Cathedral. He is familiar with everything in this city and, according to the route of his mories, advances toward the place of candlelight and holy songs.
The singing becos clearer, and Lorenzo knows he is about to reach that ancient building. His steps are heavy, stirring sounds begin to overlap with another sound, and the sounds of two sets of footsteps rge together, thus a man passes by Lorenzo in the darkness.
Lorenzo gazes absently at the man who walks past him. He wears splendid iron armor, beneath which is a white robe embroidered with gold edges, a nail sword inserted at his waist, and his face is hidden under a helt.
It is a cold iron visage, and beneath the shadows of its eye sockets, eyes peer around, the iron cross on his chest clattering against the armor, emitting a clear sound, and he hums a familiar holy song along with this crisp sound.
"...047."
Lorenzo murmurs.
He cannot see the face of the man, but perhaps through so form of intuition, Lorenzo can be sure that the man before him is 047, honored with the na danzo, the most solid shield of Saint Nalos Cathedral.
does not see Lorenzo. To be precise, Lorenzo does not actually exist; this is the world of mories, and everything in front of him happened many years ago, Lorenzo is rely revisiting it.
Night is deep, and the street is deserted. Saint Nalos Cathedral gradually erges before his eyes, with its never-ceasing holy songs echoing, and candlelight surging like a sea, creating ripples.
White brick steps appear before him, connecting Saint Nalos Cathedral and the land of Seven Hills, seeming like the ascent to heaven’s stairs, where all believers yearn to climb, entering that divine kingdom.
And at this mont, there are scattered few people on these steps. They are not nurous, appearing to be around a dozen or so, but they wear the sa iron armor as 047, nail swords sheathed, the edges of the armor emitting a sharp light.
The danzo Demon Hunters stand like stone sculptures on the steps, motionless, exuding oppressive murderous intent, until 047 arrives, allowing this solidified scene to finally thaw.
"Patrol finished?" 051 asks.
"Finished, Seven Hills isn’t large, and with tonight’s curfew, the patrol was quick." 047 replies.
047, honored with the na danzo, leads these Demon Hunters, yet he does not bear the deanor of soone in a lofty position. Just like during previous training, their relationship is akin to close comrades.
Lorenzo stands not far from the steps, perplexed at the mont.
He looks around, but among these danzo Demon Hunters, he cannot find himself, seemingly absent, although by the danzo Demon Hunters’ regulations, he ought to be here; it is his duty.
moves again, interrupting Lorenzo’s thoughts, and he ascends step after step, reaching the peak, then halting on the highest step.
This is his position, from this height, he can oversee everything in the square before Saint Nalos Cathedral; should an enemy attack directly, nothing escapes his sight.
approaches as well, presenting a strange feeling to Lorenzo, although equally a danzo Demon Hunter, Lorenzo doesn’t recognize this person, cannot recall the face beneath this cold iron mask, yet there resides an inexplicable familiarity, a contradiction, and eeriness.
"Aren’t you nervous?" 051 suddenly asks.
"What’s there to be nervous about?" 047 replies easily, continuing to hum that unnad holy song.
Usually, everyone does their duty routinely. After all, this is Saint Nalos Cathedral, this is Seven Hills. If sowhere in this world signifies a land of glory, it must be here; here shines resplendent, demons coming here ans death.
Though there have been instances of demon attacks before, they have all been perfectly thwarted by the Demon Hunters, using danzo’s solid armor; demons have not even stepped onto the final stairs.
They are so powerful and confident.
shakes his head uneasily; he feels tonight’s difference, as if sothing is about to happen, the sudden curfew casts a chilling suppression over the entire city, and the surroundings are profoundly quiet, with the song from the cathedral behind seeming to be the only sound in this silence.
It’s a peculiar feeling, as if tonight, Saint Nalos Cathedral becos the sole island, darkness surges around, malevolent anomalies poised to ride the wind, ready to extinguish all flas.
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