Alex had a bad feeling.
He shook his head, thinking he was just overthinking things.
On his way back to the group, he instinctively lifted his gaze toward the dark sky visible through the glass windows of the waiting area.
He saw a flash of lightning in the distant clouds.
The storm seemed to be coming.
…
"It smells like death…" Death and the Belmonts had a rather close relationship. After all, one of the greatest Belmonts once fought against Death itself—while being merely human.
And whenever something like this happened, no matter how small the situation was, the Belmonts felt the change instantly—and Jonathan was no exception.
Death filled the waiting hall, and it immediately put him on alert.
"Something wrong?" Wednesday noticed Jonathan's sudden change in behavior, prompting her to ask.
"It seems something's happening. Our flight makes a stop near our destination, so we'll take the one going directly to Paris," Jonathan said with a faint smile. "You're about to see what will happen in the next few minutes."
"I remember telling you that I don't control it," Wednesday said with some irritation. This wasn't something she could control, and she hated feeling incapable of meeting the expectations Jonathan had for her.
Jonathan, however, didn't focus on Wednesday's refusal. Instead, he said, "Close your eyes, control your mind, and the world will open before you… The blood of your family is powerful. Very few in your mother's bloodline can do what I believe you will—if you just trust probability a bit more."
Wednesday did as Jonathan asked, but when nothing happened, she simply opened her eyes and said, "Forget it. It didn't work."
"Well then, let's board the plane," said Jonathan, choosing not to push her any further for now.
He had been searching his mind for clues surrounding him, but even with his doubts, he decided to board the plane without hesitation.
Jonathan stored his bag and fastened his seatbelt. "First class—something that fits our needs."
"I hate that crying kid," Wednesday muttered, putting on her headphones to block out the sound of the baby next to her. It was annoying.
"Hello, sir, are you really a priest consecrated by the church?" A soft voice spoke at that moment.
Jonathan turned his head and saw a flight attendant leaning slightly to talk to him. "I am. Is something wrong?"
After receiving a positive answer, the flight attendant said, "Our crew would like to receive a blessing from you. It's not common to have such a young priest aboard."
"Of course. Should I do it here?"
"No, we might disturb the passengers. Please, follow me." The flight attendant knew that if there was an atheist nearby who heard Jonathan's prayer, they might complain—and that could get them in trouble.
"Sure, go ahead, follow her," murmured Wednesday with a faint smile as she adjusted herself in her seat. "Maybe include in your prayer that her god shuts the baby up."
"I thought you weren't listening with those headphones on." Jonathan sighed, already used to Wednesday's poisonous humor.
"I mean, if you're going to pray, at least include us miserable mortals who are trying to sleep without thinking about demons or curses," Wednesday added, crossing her arms.
As Jonathan walked down the aisle following the flight attendant, Wednesday raised her voice slightly: "Oh, and if you see an angel, tell him he still owes me a coffee from three centuries ago!"
Some passengers nearby turned to look at her; she smiled sarcastically. "What? I'm not the only one who talks to imaginary beings."
Jonathan heard her from afar but didn't stop. He reached the small galley area where the flight attendants gathered—a narrow space between the cockpit and the compartments.
"Could you say a short prayer for the trip?" one of them asked, a mix of respect and curiosity in her tone.
Jonathan nodded and clasped his hands, closing his eyes. His voice was calm, without religious connotations or divine invocations:
"May this journey be guided by serenity. May calm remain even among the winds, and may every person here find refuge in hope—even when the sky grows dark."
A light silence followed his words, and his spiritual energy seemed to soothe the flight attendants, who had been nervous about the storm. Outside, thunder rumbled softly in the distance, as if the sky itself was listening.
The attendants smiled gratefully. Jonathan gave a small nod and turned back to his seat.
When he sat down again, Wednesday glanced at him sideways, pulling out one earbud.
"So? Did you convince the universe not to kill us today?"
Jonathan replied with a half-smile. "Let's just say… I made peace with it."
"Perfect," Wednesday muttered as the plane began to move. "Then tell it that if the plane doesn't explode, I'll leave it a positive review."