Lucien opened the door—the knife still hidden behind his back.
It had been nearly half a month since the previous Lucien had been brought here. In that time, the temple had offered them little more than rooms.
No lessons.No guidance.No mercy.
It was as if the cult wanted them to come to terms with their fate on their own.
The kidnapped children—or initiates, as the temple liked to call them—were left to rot inside the building.
After the initial speech from the head priest—
"Serve our god… or die screaming."
—life had become painfully simple.
Meals twice a day. Dinner and lunch. Nothing more. Their movements restricted to the building itself. Some initiates spent their time in the open hall on the ground floor, clinging to one another for the illusion of comfort.
Lucien rarely joined them.
He spent most of his time alone—inside his room, or buried in the library's shadowed corners.
Which made the knock at his door… strange.
Very strange.
Lucien's fingers tightened around the knife's hilt. He opened the door slowly, half-expecting to see a priest standing there, ready to drag him away for execution.
Instead—
"Hey! By the gods, how long does it take to open a damn door?!"
Lucien blinked.
Standing there wasn't a priest.
It was another initiate.
The boy wore the same dark robes issued by the temple—wrinkled and a size too big. His hair was unkempt, his tone sharp, his expression more annoyed than afraid.
"…Huh?"
Recognition flickered.
Eidan.
Yes, that was his name.
Not a friend.
Not even close.
Just someone the old Lucien had spoken to in passing. A boy he occasionally saw in the library—a familiar face in an unfamiliar hell.
"Eidan… it's you, haha…" Lucien said awkwardly. "What brings you here?"
Eidan raised an eyebrow, mildly surprised.
"Wow. You actually remember me? I'm touched," he said dryly. "You usually look like you're plotting the wall's murder."
Lucien didn't reply.
Because what unsettled him wasn't who was at the door—but why.
Initiates could visit one another's rooms, but no one ever did.
Visits were for friends.
And Lucien didn't have any.
He was quiet.
Withdrawn.
Always alone.
The kind of person others instinctively avoided—not out of fear, but ...discomfort.
Eidan leaned slightly to the side, peering into the dim room.
"...Can I come in?" he asked. "Or are you going to keep staring at me like I'm an abomination?"
Lucien hesitated.
Eidan didn't wait. He brushed past him, stepping inside without an invitation.
"Oh! There's something important I wanted to tell you—"
Lucien closed the door behind him and quickly tucked the knife into his robe. It wasn't exactly polite to welcome someone while hiding a weapon behind your back.
Halfway through his sentence, Eidan stopped.
His gaze drifted upward.
Lucien froze.
Eidan's eyes locked on the ceiling beam—on the rope that still hung there, swaying faintly, as if mocking Lucien with every creak.
Then his gaze lowered.
To the faint stains on the floor.
Lower still—
—to the frayed loop still resting loosely around Lucien's neck.
Silence fell.
A long, heavy silence that neither of them seemed brave enough to break.
Eidan blinked once, then twice. His mouth twitched as if he wanted to say something but couldn't find the words.
It's… a complicated situation, he must have thought.
Lucien felt dread blooming in his chest.
Fuck.
He had forgotten.
The rope.
It was still there. Clinging to his neck like a dead thing that refused to let go.
Eidan finally exhaled. "Did I interrupt something…" he asked slowly, "…personal?"
Panic surged through Lucien.
"N–no, it's not what it looks like—" he stammered.
Eidan raised a hand, silencing him.
"I understand."
Lucien froze.
Understand?
What the hell do you think you understand?!
But Eidan's gaze softened—not with mockery, but something far worse.
Pity.
"You don't have to explain," he said quietly. "This place breaks people. Faster than you'd expect."
Lucien's throat tightened.
For a moment, he didn't know whether he wanted to laugh… or scream.
***
Thunder growled again.
Outside, the storm still raged—rain slashing against the window like claws. Inside the small room, however, silence reigned.
Lucien and Eidan sat side by side on the narrow bed, neither saying a word.
The only sound was the distant rumble of thunder and the soft crackle of dripping water from the ceiling.
Neither of them wanted to speak.
Lucien didn't even try to explain himself.
What was he supposed to say?
"It's not me who tried to hang myself—it was the previous me, and now I'm in his body"?
Even he couldn't say that out loud without sounding like a lunatic.
And besides… the temple would kill him the moment they discovered he was an impostor.
He could almost hear their chants already.
Burn the heretic. Feed him to the Abyss.
Lucien clenched his hands on his knees.
Eidan, meanwhile, sat stiffly beside him, eyes fixed on the floorboards. The stormlight from the window cast flickering shadows across his pale face. When he finally spoke, his voice trembled.
"You know… when I first came here, I wanted to… well…" He trailed off, swallowing hard. "Especially after hearing the sounds coming from the main temple at night. Gods, I still can't sleep sometimes."
Lucien stayed silent.
He didn't need to imagine what those nights felt like. Every child in this place was under fifteen, torn from their homes and thrown into this hell.
The fear never truly left their eyes.
After a moment, Eidan spoke again, quieter this time.
"You don't have to bear it alone, Lucien. We're all the same… in the same boat. Just don't try anything stupid, okay?"
He paused.
"It's already happened three times."
Lucien's head turned sharply.
Three suicides…
His chest tightened. He wanted to change the subject—anything to steer the conversation away from ropes and death.
"You said you came to tell me something important," Lucien said, forcing calm into his voice. "What was it?"
Eidan hesitated, his fingers twisting in his lap. Then he sighed—a long, weary sound far too heavy for someone his age.
"It's about the temple," he said finally. His voice had lost all its edge. "They made an announcement this morning… while you were gone."
Lucien frowned. "An announcement?"
Eidan nodded slowly. His face looked drained—hollow, as if every drop of hope had been scraped out of him.
"They said the initiates are being sent," he murmured. "All of us. Every last one."
Lucien blinked. "…Sent where?"
Eidan's gaze lifted, his eyes wide with dread. For a moment, thunder swallowed his voice.
Then—
"Into the ....Abyssal Realm."
The words struck Lucien like a blade of ice sliding down his spine.
For a heartbeat, he forgot how to breathe.
"W-What…?"