After finishing the instant noodles, Ethan leaned back against one of the crumbling pews, the warmth of the broth seeping into his cold, tired bones. The church, a decaying husk of what it once was, stood silent around him. The walls were battered, the windows shattered, and the air smelled of mildew.
Despite its ruin, this was where he and Asia had taken refuge—out of necessity more than choice.
Asia was cleaning. Again. It was almost ritualistic, her movements delicate as she wiped down the worn pews, sweeping the dust from the floor as if she could make the broken place feel whole again. There was no point. No one else would come. No one else would care. But she worked, nonetheless, focused on the task.
"You don't have to do that," Ethan said, his voice rough with fatigue. He watched her, his gaze drifting across her careful movements.
"The devils should have already chased away everyone else," he added, a slight bitterness coloring his words. "No need to clean, as no believer is going to come."
Asia didn't look at him at first, but then her eyes met his, a faint smile touching her lips, though it didn't reach her eyes. "But they cannot chase away the Lord," she said softly, her voice firm with some conviction that made Ethan uncomfortable in its innocence. "He would still be here, as long as His believers are in this Church."
Ethan didn't reply. There was no need. She didn't need to know Gods were long dead in this world.
"Well," he muttered, his gaze shifting to the shattered glass of a nearby window, "at least you've got an angel on your side." he said in low voice while ignoring how he looks after the transformation.
The door burst open with a crash that shook loose dust from the rafters.
Asia shrieked and dropped the cloth she'd been using to clean. Ethan was already standing, back tense, flame sparking faintly at his fingertips.
A man in a white priest's robe swaggered in like he owned the place—tattered cloak fluttering behind him, a silver handgun hanging low from one hand like a lazy threat. His golden-blond hair was messily unkempt, and his eyes glittered with a kind of madness that made Ethan's skin crawl.
Freed Sellzen.
"Oh~? What's this?" Freed's voice was sing-song, mocking. His gaze swept across Ethan and landed on Asia with exaggerated offense. "Asia, Asia, Asia… You didn't tell me you had company."
"I—I didn't invite him!" she said quickly, stepping back.
Freed cocked his head, tongue running along his teeth. "You sure? 'Cause it really looks like a little sinner's rendezvous in here. Old church, some candles, lonely ex-nun and her new toy…"
Ethan narrowed his eyes. "You walk into abandoned buildings often, or just ones with children and half-dead priests?"
Freed grinned like a feral dog. "Ooh, you've got some bite, mystery man. I like that. But jokes aside, this is sacred ground. And you? You don't look like someone the Church sent."
"Neither do you."
That made Freed laugh. "Touché!"
He leveled the gun lazily at Ethan's chest.
Asia gasped. "Freed, stop!"
But the man didn't. "So here's how this is gonna go. You, new guy—you're leaving. And if you don't? Well, Asia here goes back to her real friends. The kind with sharp tools and a lovely appreciation for human sacrifice."
Ethan stepped forward, lips curling with disgust. "Why don't you put that toy down and get out of here before you shoot yourself in the foot."
Something shifted in his tone. The room dropped in temperature—not from cold, but from intent. Fire flickered across Ethan's eyes, his hands twitching as hellfire began to flicker at his fingertips.
Freed noticed. His smirk vanished. "What the hell are you?"
Ethan's jaw clenched. "Not someone you want to piss off."
The flame built—but sputtered.
He staggered, blinking, and looked at his hand. Then he remember it was daylight A time when Ghost rider doesn't appear he has powers but cannot transformation as for the small fireball it can generate isn't enough.
Freed also notice beside few sparks there wasn't anything special, "Oh-ho-ho," the priest purred, voice low and venomous. "Now that's interesting. pretending to be big and scary but have no strength to backup You're just a freak after all."
He pulled the trigger.
The gunshot rang like a hammer strike.
Ethan jerked backward, eyes wide. Blood sprayed against the altar, soaking into the rotting floorboards. He stumbled once—twice—then dropped to his knees.
Another shot. Then another.
Asia screamed, rushing to him, hands glowing faintly with divine energy—but she was weak, barely stopping the bleeding before she could tell him completely.
Freed kicked her aside and walked up to Ethan's limp, bleeding form. "You should've stayed out of this, pal. But hey, don't feel bad. The Lord works in mysterious, murderous ways."
He bent down, wiped his boot on Ethan's coat, and stood again. "Guess I better call Raynare. She'll want the girl back."l
Asia sobbed beside Ethan's unmoving body. The light in her hands flickered once, then faded as she realise he is already dead.
Freed stepped over Ethan's corpse like it was trash. "This is why you don't play a hero, idiot."
After making sure he was dead He slammed the chapel doors shut on his way out.
Silence returned.
Ethan's blood pooled beneath him, seeping into the cracked stone. The last warmth in his body faded. But something beneath the surface didn't go cold.