Lucy's eyes were filled with anger as she glared at me. 'How did you get this picture?!' Her voice trembled, half rage, half hurt.
I raised my hands, trying to calm her. 'Lucy… calm down. I'll tell you everything, but first I need to understand your side of the story. I made a promise to Roy that I would protect you no matter what. I can't exactly keep that promise if I don't know the full story, or if you're hiding anything especially with the way you're being treated and all,' I said.
Her chest heaved. Her lips pressed together. Then, in a quiet voice, she said, 'I am a hybrid.'
I frowned, confusion and curiosity merging. 'A hybrid? What does that mean?'
'My mother. She was a Shade,' Lucy began, her voice trembling. 'During a joint mission with the U.S. Army, she met my father. They fell in love. But she kept her true nature a secret. She never told him she wasn't human. She never used her powers in front of him too. When I was born, she thought she could keep me safe. But my powers manifested earlier than expected.'
She paused, swallowing, and her hands curled into fists. 'The Shade intelligence division detected my Miasma signature. They sent an assault team. My mother fought. But the commotion attracted Man-eaters. She sacrificed herself against a Man-eater with concentrated cursed Miasma. My father he ran with me, trying to save me, but it wasn't enough. I was captured by the Shades.'
Lucy's voice grew sadder, 'When I was brought to the Vatican, I was taken before the ministry for judgment. They all were in favour of following the law which dictates that I should be killed.'
I gritted my teeth. 'And?'
'It was Conner's father… Bartholomew Vilix, the disciplinary evangelist… who spared me,' she continued, 'But I was to be treated like an outcast. If I resist or disobey it would mean death. The only way for me to be released, to be treated as a normal Shade is…' Her voice faded, and she looked down.
'Is what?'
She shook her head. 'I can't tell you. I won't have you dying for my sake when we just met for the first time. If you try to intervene you'll be killed before you can even flinch.' she added dreadfully.
'Lucy.'
She looked at me with teary eyes.
'Please listen to me. I don't care. I made a promise. A man died protecting me, and I will keep that promise, no matter the cost.'
Her tears welled, but there was a glint of hope in her eyes. She swallowed hard and began to explain.
'Y-you have to confront the ministry. Face them. Stand before them. If they don't strike you dead immediately, you must ask them to intercede on my behalf. If you survive that, they will give you three tasks. And don't think these are simple trials. These aren't Easter egg hunts—they are battles to the death. Each one is harder than the last. Survive the first, and the second will almost certainly try to kill you. Survive the second and the third… most people never see the third. Only seven people in history have completed all three tasks in the history of the Vatican. The last… was Sage Mike.'
I felt my chest tighten. A man had died protecting me. A man I barely knew. And now, here I was, standing on the cliff of a challenge that could kill me easily.
'Thank you Lucy. I don't care how impossible it sounds. I will do this. I will free you.'
I stepped out of the building, the door thumping shut behind me. The first thing I saw was Creel leaning against the stone rail, a thin curl of smoke drifting from the cigarette between his fingers. He looked like a disappointed parent waiting for his delinquent child to finish detention.
When he noticed me, he exhaled a long, lazy stream of smoke.
'Congrats, kid,' he said dryly. 'You did exactly what I fucking asked you to do.'
'Hey, I saw some unsightly things today that I didn't like, so what?' I shot back.
Creel clicked his tongue. 'The Ministry sent me to fetch you. Turns out they had someone observe your behaviour and development.'
'If you're talking about Chrome,' I began, 'then it was pretty obvious. I did what should've been done.' I stepped past Creel. 'Besides, I need to see the Ministry anyway.'
He raised a brow. What for?'
'I'm going to revoke Lucy's punishment.'
Chrome, who had been leaning against the wall nearby with his arms crossed, let out a sharp scoff. 'Don't be stupid. I know you're ignorant of this place's customs and traditions, but don't go throwing claims like that like it's nothing.'
'Does it look like I'm playing or joking.'
Creel appraised me. But he said nothing. Instead he turned and led the way through the marble courtyard.
As we walked, he tried one last time to dissuade me. 'Kid, the brat you punched—Conner—he's Bartholomew Vilix's son. Bartholomew is the Disciplinary Evangelist. When he learns you attacked his little prince…' Creel shook his head. 'He'll throw the toughest challenges at you. Your survival odds? Less than ten percent.'
'Good enough,' I said. 'Maybe I can teach him a thing or two about parenting.'
'Oh God.'
The Parish—the Vatican's headquarters—was just how I remembered it: towering spires of pale stone, golden frescoes glinting in the high windows, and an ambience so suffocatingly quiet.
Above me, one by one, podiums ignited with blinding pillars of light. The Evangelists materialized within them—grim silhouettes of immense power, their faces carved into masks of divine judgement. They stared down at me like they were waiting for me to make a wrong move.
In the center podium, Mr. J appeared. Unlike the others, he wore an ornate mantle adorned with silver insignias—the mark of the Head Evangelist. On his left stood another man… whose scowl felt very personal. His cold eyes mirrored someone I recognized.
Bartholomew Vilix. Conner's father.
Mr. J spoke first.
'Young Sage,' he said, his voice calm, 'it seems you have taken our kindness for granted.'
The Evangelists murmured in agreement.
Freeloaders, I thought.
'You have failed your mission in less than forty-eight hours, proving yourself unfit to host the Holy Grail. In addition, you made multiple unauthorized uses of the Grail's power. Worst of all—' his eyes narrowed— 'you transgressed the sacred law by attempting to strike Conner Vilix, in response to the mistreatment of Lucy the Hybrid. For so doing, you are—'
'Enough.'
The word erupted from my mouth before I even thought about it.
Gasps rippled through the chamber. Several Evangelists leaned forward. Creel tensed behind me.
'The only reason I came here is to free Lucy from her stupid punishment. And by the way—' I lifted my head, meeting their heavy gazes—'I don't regret anything I did today. Not a single thing. In fact, if I could do it again, I'd do it every damn day. You're treating a harmless girl like she's a monster. Each and every one of you disgusts me.'
Only when I had finished talking did I remember to breath.
Silence.
The entire room fell into a suffocating stillness. Then, soft murmurs. Debates. Sharp whispers between the pillars of light. The Evangelists began talking amongst themselves.
I glanced back at Creel. The glare of the Evangelist's lights reflected off his glasses, hiding his eyes, but I could swear his lips twitched into the smallest smirk.
Mr J cleared his throat. They had obviously finished discussing what they would do with me. 'Your request for the vindication of Lucy has been accepted.'
I exhaled. Relief. Hope. Something warm in my chest. For a second or two I actually thought they would sentence me to death.
'Your trial has been decided. You are to be taken to the North Maine Forest, a primary stronghold of Man eaters. Your objective is to survive for a fortnight.'
'What?!' Creel's shout echoed through the hall. 'Your Lordship! That's—!'
'Silence!' Bartholomew boomed. His voice thundered like thunder cracking a mountain. 'You have no authority to challenge the Ministry's decision. The boy has to learn the way we do things in the Vatican.'
Mr. J continued:
'You are permitted to two accomplices to go with you. One will be Lucy herself. That is all. Creel, escort him to see Vanessa the Gear smith.'
The light vanished. The Evangelists disappeared. And the massive chamber dimmed into cold silence.
'Well…' I said, dusting my clothes, 'that went well.'
Creel still looked stunned, frozen in place like someone had hit the pause button on him. I walked over to where he stood, trying to understand what exactly had rattled him so hard. From my perspective, it wasn't that big of a deal. It was a simple task: survive or don't. Succeed or fail. Live or die.
And unlike before, I'd gotten the hang of Miasma control.
Miasma was… strange. It didn't have a temperature, weight, or texture. You couldn't see it or feel it brushing against your skin. But if you were a Shade, you sensed it—like an instinct that sprouted from your bones instead of your mind. It was slippery unpredictable, but it bent if you pressed it the right way. Give me a little more practice and I could probably master it in no time.
Or so I thought.
Creel exploded.
'Master it?! Are you insane?! You were just sent out to die. The North Maine Forest is a fucking Man-Eater stronghold. Man-Eaters are everywhere in that place—like flies eating shit. And you think you'll just "master" Miasma before they tear you apart? You'll burn through every drop of Miasma before sunrise. Do you have any idea what you've done to yourself?!'
'Hey, not cool,' I said. 'Shouting doesn't suit you. Chill. Believe in me.'
Creel shut his eyes, inhaling sharply. When he opened them again, his voice was calm.
'Yeah. You're right. It does not concern me what happens to you and that Lucy.' He straightened his coat sharply. Come. Let us go and get your Sacred Gear.'
We left the Parish in heavy silence. I tried small talk—jokes, questions, anything—but Creel ignored every word. His expression was dark, distant, like someone reliving a nightmare he thought he'd buried.
When we entered the Town square, the contrast was almost jarring. Life buzzed everywhere. Vendors screamed prices over one another. Women bargained ferociously. Children ran between stalls chasing each other with sticks, shrieking with laughter..
Creel slowed, watching them. His voice softened.
'We were all like this once,' he murmured. 'Before all this… Grey business. We were kids when we joined. Tiny. Dumb. Hopeful.' He chuckled once, bitterly. 'We believed in Mike. We really thought he'd beat Grey.'
His face twisted—painful, haunted. Clearly these memories weren't ones he wanted to remember.
'Hey.'
He looked over. 'What?'
'I will beat Grey.'
He didn't answer. He didn't need to. His silence said everything.
We reached a junction and turned right. After a few more stalls, we stopped in front of the most chaotic shop I had ever seen. The wooden sign was crooked. The walls were dented as if someone had thrown tools—or people—at them. Scorch marks lined the roof. A giant hole sat suspiciously where a window should've been.
'Damn,' I muttered. 'This place is a mess. What kind of woman can stay here?
Creel banged on the dented metal sliding door.
'Vanessa Vesar! The Ministry sends me to you!'
Inside, metal clattered and something shattered. When the door rolled open, the shop revealed itself: weapons and scrap metal everywhere. Blades stacked like empty bottles, half-forged shields lying around like toys. Smoke drifted lazily from a red-hot blade abandoned on the anvil.
There was a rattling of metal and wood from the back of the shop. Then she appeared.
A tall lady, rubbing sleep out of red eyes. She looked nothing like the master craftswoman I'd pictured. She looked more like someone who'd taken a nap inside a toolbox. She wore a grease-stained white polo shirt, jean tank-top, and ripped bum-shorts. Tousled auburn hair that looked like she'd fought it and lost..
She blinked at Creel.
'Well, if it isn't my stupid ex-boyfriend. The one who left me to be the Ministry's dog. What brings you here on this pleasant day?'
Creel stiffened.
'First of all, I didn't leave you. I said I needed some time off.'
'To do what, clean James' toenails?'
'Hey! Do not speak of His Lordship that way, you ingrate!'
'Whatever.' She squinted at me. 'Who's the kid?'
'I don't have time to explain,' Creel snapped. 'Just read this circular.' He handed her an envelope.
She snatched it, tore it open, and skimmed through it. The longer she read, the more her face twisted.
When she finished, she looked up and said, 'Kid… do you have a death wish?'
'I asked him the same thing,' Creel chipped in.
She shook her head.
'You think you can beat Grey? There isn't a single Shade in this Domain worth even a quarter of that man's power. And now you're throwing away your life over nothing. I wish I could be this whimsical. Even Mike was overpowered to hell and back—and Grey killed him like swatting a fly.'
'It'll be a great place to start,' I said. 'That Man-Eater stronghold. If I can conquer that, I'll be one step closer to beating Grey. But to do that, I need my Sacred Gear. Please, Vanessa. I need yo—'
'No.'
'Unfortunately, Vanessa, you must comply as a Dream Shade.'
She scoffed.
'You and the Ministry can go to hell. I don't remember becoming a dog like a certain someone.'
'How dare you—!'
I stepped between them.
'Vanessa, I don't blame you for being mad at Creel. No man should leave a beautiful lady like you for the world.' I bowed my head. 'But I need my Sacred Gear. I beg you.'
Both of them paused. Their argument died mid-sentence.
Vanessa sighed.
'At least the boy acknowledges my beauty. If only more men had eyes.' She muttered about men being sleazeballs, then locked eyes with me. 'It's going to cost you, kid. First, I'll need a sample of your blood.'
I couldn't hold back my grin.
'Thank you so much, Vanessa.'
'Yeah, yeah.'
Vanessa wandered to the back of her shop, rummaging loudly through junk in search of a syringe.
'You're a real jerk,' I said.
Creel blinked. 'Hmm?'
'What guy in his right mind leaves a girl like that for work?'
'Vanessa and I were simply not meant to be,' he said stiffly. 'That's all.'
'Bullshit. That just means you were never committed in the first place.'
'Perhaps.'
'What kind of corporate asshole are you?'
He smoothed his collar, adjusting his tie like a gentleman from a poster.
'The gentle kind.'
Vanessa came out after some time with her hair even more messed up and even more dust stains smeared across her clothes. She had a plastic syringe pinched between two fingers and a hot chunk of metal in the other hand.
The metal was Zibrum—one of the rarest materials in any of the known Dimensions. Stronger than diamond, stronger than steel, stronger than your will to live on a Monday morning. Apparently, the whole forging process was old-school Shade tradition: my blood would be poured onto the anvil, the Zibrum would be heated until it was almost white, then Vanessa would smack the hell out of it. The metal just… formed itself. That was the weird part. The weapon's final shape depended entirely on the user's blood, instincts, and something they called "soul sign." Basically, your true self in weapon form.
After all the proceedings, Vanessa chased us out of the workshop, and we were told to come back after two days. The same day would be the day I would leave the Vatican for the survival expedition.
Great. No pressure or anything.
The first person I went to tell was Lucy. She'd been discharged by the medics earlier, and as usual, Conner and his merry group of clowns were already picking on her again. Same routine. Same insults. Same attempt at belittling her.
I cut in before Conner could shove her again. He and his squad backed off the moment they saw me approaching, but he still had some shit to say.
'I heard what you're doing. In fact, the whole Domain knows what you're doing. The two of you aren't getting a third member. No one's that dumb to throw away their life, dumb shit!'
Lucy looked like she wanted to disappear into the floor. I ignored Conner completely and helped her back to her feet.
'Don't listen to him,' I said. 'We'll get a third member.'
'He's right,' she whispered, brushing dust off her trousers. 'What if we don't get one? And the main problem is still the stronghold.'
'Hey,' I said, making her look me in the eyes. 'Trust me. I've got a plan.'
Fun fact: I did not have a plan.
The grand plan I had amounted to begging Mo.
'Bro, nah,' Mo said instantly, recoiling like I had asked him eat lead. 'I like my life too much for that shit. They got Man-eaters crawling around that place like roaches around trash. Ask someone else—but honestly, I don't think anyone crazy enough even exists. Look for someone actually insane.'
By nightfall, panic was chewing holes in my stomach. The survival expedition was the next morning. And I still didn't have a third member. I had asked Tyson, Mo, Thiago, Federico, Ria, Levi, and like ten other guys whose names I forgot the moment they said no. They all claimed they were too weak to challenge the region.
I thought of one last option: the Grail. Maybe… maybe I could talk to it in my sleep, like before.
'Z…. Open your eyes Z.'
My mind yoinked me awake into the white room. But this time was different—my whole body was there. My glasses were gone. And my clothes had changed into white shorts and a plain white shirt. My eyes felt weird, itchy. I blinked.
Wait… I blinked?
This was very different from my usual closed-eye blinking. But this time… I felt the muscles move. I blinked again. Then again. Then I winked. I probably blinked three hundred times like a malfunctioning robot before a surge of energy flared to my right.
A ball of swirling, bright mystic energy expanded, and the Grail began materializing. It took the form of a young girl—pale ivory eyes, pitch-black hair, and shrouded in a cloak darker than a starless night. As she walked toward me, her aura thickened the air like lead. I recognized the feeling now. Miasmic pressure. The first time I had experienced it, I thought I was suffocating. But this was very different. It was the Miasmic pressure of the Grail.
'If you can't resist this," the Grail said in its soft but echoing voice, "you have no chance of surviving the expedition. Do you intend to throw your life away? You cannot use Miasma attacks yet, and you cannot withstand pressure, even though I am holding back greatly. I cannot guarantee your safety. It is best you forget about that girl, Lucy, and grow stronger first.I suppose?'
'I don't care,' I said, forcing my shaking knees to stay locked. 'I'm going with Lucy, and I'll save her even if I die trying. Besides… I trust you. You're a little troubling, maybe, but you're a good person. Or thing. Er…'
The Grail stared silently, expression unreadable.
'Eve Dragonheart.'
My breath caught. 'What about her?'
'She has an undying desire to walk in the footsteps of her father. She wants to make a name for herself quickly. If she refuses, no one else will accept. Ask her. Good luck, Z.'
'I look forward to our next encounter.'
The room faded.
The next morning, I stood inside Vanessa's workshop, waiting for my sacred gear like a kid on Christmas eve waiting for gifts to magically appear. I'd learned before: sacred gears weren't just tools—they were extensions of the Shade themselves. Their form, power, and personality depended on the blood placed inside the Zibrum. I wondered what mine would be.
Vanessa finally came out of her "personal office," wearing her usual stained tank top, smelling like burnt metal. She held something long and sheathed—a weapon. A katana.
A custom-made Japanese katana. Its hilt was wrapped in tight red and black leather. The blade itself shimmered with a dark red edge, fading into pure black near the back. Close to the hilt, one word was engraved in sharp lettering: "DESTROY".
Vanessa handed the wickedly sharp blade to me with a smug grin. 'This one was a real piece of work. I named it myself—Amaterasu. The Japanese sun deity. "Ama" for short.' She stretched her arms. 'If nothing else, this baby should increase your survival chances by, like, twenty percent. You're welcome.'
It was perfect. Light, balanced, but with a weight that guaranteed violence. Just holding it, I felt a shiver run through me.
'Thank you, Vanessa,' I said softly. 'I'll take good care of it.'
'No problem,' she said, already walking away. 'I need a shower, and you need to get moving. Man-eaters get more active in the evening.'
I left. I sprinted all the way to the Campus, Ama tucked into the sword belt Vanessa had thrown in as a bonus. Lucy was there, packing her few belongings into a knapsack Creel had issued.
She looked nervous, her hands shaky and her eyes darting around.
'Did you find the last member?' she asked, voice a mix of fear and hope.
'I'm working on it.'
'We only have a couple of minutes left before the deadline. Please Z we have to do this.'
'Right…' I muttered, leaving her dorm room. I tried to put on a composed face, but inside, I was troubled. Nobody was willing to go with us. Was the place really that bad? A part of me was already picturing the Man-eaters, crawling like swarming insects, and my throat went dry. But the Grail had told me to ask Eve. I didn't like her, but I don't have a choice. Luckily, as soon as I stepped out of Lucy's dorm, there she was: Eve Dragonheart, walking down the corridor, her knapsack slung carelessly over one shoulder. She looked like she owned the place, even though she had just decided to join this suicidal expedition.
'Err.. well, hi,' I stammered.
'We're late. Where's your stuff.'
'I'm sorry…"we're"?'
'I invited myself. Where's your stuff,' she said dauntlessly.
'Well... that's great,' I said, struggling to mask my irritation. 'But I didn't even ask if you wanted in.'
'I know,' she replied, tightening her grip on the twin daggers at her waist. The blades were slightly curved, veins of miasmic energy dancing along their edges. 'For the last time, where's your stuff?'
'I don't have anything to pack except my sacred gear and a toothbrush and some cloths maybe. Is that your sacred gear?' I asked pointing at her daggers.
'Yes. Meteorite daggers. Don't underestimate them,' she said, letting her voice drop to a warning.
'Cool. Mine's just… an ordinary katana,' I said, twirling Amaterasu in my hands.
'It doesn't look ordinary,' she countered, her eyes narrowing.
'Huh?'
'Never mind, let's go.'
She walked away.
Lucy emerged from her dorm moments later, her knapsack snug on her back, her real Sai strapped to her waist. The tips of the Sai glinted wickedly in the morning light.
'Have you fought a Man-eater with those?' I asked, eyeing the weapons with a mixture of respect and unease.
'Of course, Z. We do combat missions regularly,' she replied, her expression calm, but I caught the tension in her shoulders.
"Then I trust you know how to fight with them," I said.
'A sacred gear is made based on your affinity with the weapon. The Sai is perfect for you… just as my katana is for me.'
'Hmm.' I said finally.
We left the campus together, walking in silence for a while. I had expected we'd head to the Parish, but Eve veered past it without a word. I had no idea where we were going, and I doubted Lucy did either. Still, Eve seemed to know exactly what she was doing.
The silence became uncomfortable. I had to speak.
'So… how do we get below? I mean, we're several thousand feet above the ground. Parachutes? Helicopter? Maybe a plane?' I asked, trying to keep my voice casual.
'Teleportation by cellular transmission,' Eve replied flatly, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
'Huh?' I stared at her, blinking rapidly. 'Cellular transmission? There's no such thi—' Then I realized we were walking on a floating fortress.
Eve led us to a building perched near the northern edge of the Vatican. My memory of the layout was fuzzy. Maybe I'd been unconscious when we arrived here .
Three people stood in front of the building, one was a aged man probably in his sixties or maybe older. He wore a white robe and some darn expensive rings and necklaces. He looked like the pope.
Next to him was a man who looked drained of life. Dark circles under his eyes, posture slouched as if he had kyphosis. For a moment, I blinked, and his features reminded me of Vanessa—but male, grown, and tired.
As we approached, Lucy and Eve instinctively bowed. I, however, decided to play dumb.
The aged man cleared his throat, voice carrying across the courtyard. 'The boy does not understand our customs yet, Creel. Introductions must be made.'
'Yes, sire,' Creel replied, stepping forward. Then he shot me a deluxe I'll-kill-you-later glare. 'The young gentleman is Vance. He is also Grail smith's twin sibling. And this,' he gestured with precision, 'is His Lordship, the 44th head of the Vatican, Father James. Reverence is required at all times.'
'Oh, enough with that, Creel,' Father James said, waving a hand. 'Boy, I believe this is the first time we've met face-to-face. You three will be going to the North Maine Forest. There, your trials will commence. Survive for a fortnight, and you will be taken back to the Vatican. And the swine,' he pointed at Lucy with a faint smile, 'will be welcomed as a Shade of the Vatican.'
'I wish I could wish you all luck,' Vance added, voice sharp, 'but the truth is, only one of you is likely to return.'
'Wrong,' I countered.
'Hmm?' Vance raised an eyebrow.
'You're wrong. We are going to make it back and slaughter every Shit-eater down there. Nobody is going to die'
'Agreed.' Eve agreed her voice deadly serious.
'Hmph. Have fun,' Vance muttered, turning away.
We stepped into the building and the walls were surprisingly tight. Branching into several compartments each having its own chamber.
The chamber hummed like a living thing, its walls pulsing faintly with veins of blue light. I stepped into the center platform, a circular disc engraved with spiraling runes and technoglyphs. Cold mist swirled around my ankles.
'Remain still,' the operator said. 'The system doesn't tolerate movement.
I nodded. I wasn't interested in finding out what would happen if I didn't.
Above me, the transmission ring opened. Plates folded outward with, revealing a floating lattice of crystalline filaments—thin as hair, glowing like filtered moonlight. They flickered, searching for me.
Then the scan began.
A soft chime echoed, and I felt a strange warmth crawl across my skin. The filaments wrapped me in a sphere of white fire. It didn't burn. Instead, it felt like thousands of tiny fingers brushing every inch of him—reading, mapping, memorizing my body. My vision shimmered like static.
I reached for my sacred gear, Amaterasu, feeling the comforting weight of the weapon against my hip. I was going to need it. I was going to survive this, no matter what.