Zeon was conflicted as to what he should do, on one hand he could make his presence known and maybe get some allies but on the other hand this is the apocalypse so he did not know if he could trust these people as they outnumbered him, and he was not happy with those odds strong as he may be.

  Serra had been plotting her escape all day, yet she could not think of anything. Now, freedom was right in front of her. There were more people at the church, no less; this was a sign that she would be a fool not to take it. Her main problem now was that Zeon did not look like he would approach, so she would take the choice away from him.

  Zeon had been thinking of what to do when Serra started moving toward the church, he was a bit annoyed as she had been quiet the entire time. Not wanting her to go in alone, he followed after her.

  “Malcolm, just stay behind in case things go bad,” Zeon yelled as he ran to catch up with Serra.

  They did not walk for long before they reached the church; it was one of those old gothic-looking cathedrals made from a dark grey stone. It looked very impressive from Zeon’s point of view, but he did not have the time to truly appreciate its architecture as they had arrived. 2 people were guarding the entrance; they each wielded a set of ornate swords, the type you use as decoration on a wall, not a weapon in battle. Zeon doubted their effectiveness, but he chose to hold his tongue as they had noticed their approach. Zeon would be lying if he said that he was not nervous, but he steeled his will and continued his approach. The two guards were wearing what seemed to be priestly robes, mostly black with a white cross boldly stitched to their chests.

  “Stop!” The guard to the right said in an authoritative voice while bringing his sword up in a ready position.

  Zeon stopped in his tracks, bringing his hands up to show that he was unarmed, but Serra just continued walking as she brought out a cross necklace from under her shirt. This appeased the guards somewhat, and they lowered their weapons. The guard that had spoken used his off-hand to touch his temple and two shoulders in the symbol of the cross, while Serra mimicked the motion in response. Zeon did not know much about Catholicism, so he did not know what to expect, but the last thing he expected was for them to invite them in, losing their previous aggression.

  “Welcome, sister. You and your guest are welcome here,” the second guard said with a smile as he motioned for them to enter.

  Serra started moving, but not before shooting Zeon a nasty glare as she walked in. Zeon, still confused, entered cautiously behind her. They were being led by the second guard through the halls of the cathedral. Zeon saw a few people here and there, but they mostly seemed to be non-combatants.

  “The Bishop is currently busy in a meeting, so he can not meet with you now, but he will surely want to hear your story as not many have survived in this time of judgment. We are more than willing to bring you some refreshments and allow you some rest as you wait for the Bishop.” The guard said as he led them to a cozy waiting area with a few couches inside. They sat down, and the guard left to return to his post.

  Soon, a woman dressed like a nun came in carrying a tray with some fruit and glasses of water. She laid it down on the table in front of them, gave a small bow, and then left again. Zeon started thinking that maybe he was wrong to have judged these people, as he rejoiced at the fact that he could eat some fresh food, having survived on canned food for the last three days, the fruit was a welcome reprieve. At some point, Serra had slipped out of the room but Zeon did not care as that just meant more fruit for him. He stuffed himself on sliced pieces of apple, grapes, and even some bananas. He gobbled it up without restraint, and it was delicious.

  It was another thirty minutes before the Bishop arrived, with Serra trailing closely behind him, and he could instantly tell that something was wrong as Serra refused to make eye contact. The atmosphere in the room instantly turned heavy; it was almost palpable. The second the Bishop saw him, he stopped in his tracks, a look of shock etched his face, the Bishop was a man in his early fifties, he had salt and pepper black hair, the streaks of grey marking his age he had a strong jaw and piercing blue eyes but the shock on his face ruined his visage.

  “De... demon!” he yelled, pointing accusatorily at Zeon.

  The Bishop started glowing a faint white light as he activated a skill. That was when the pain began. Zeon’s skin felt like it was on fire as his Avatar skill was forcefully activated. The 7ft monster that was his soul laid bare stood in front of the Bishop, his featureless face and light blue skin was as clear as day for all to see. The Bishop’s yell had attracted two guards as they barged into the room only to recoil at Zeon’s appearance.

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  “What did you do?!” Zeon yelled in outrage, but his voice came out in a deep, growly tone instead of his usual melodic one.

  The Bishop, who seemed to have recovered from his shock, replied, “I merely exposed what you truly are.” he spat. “I must admit when Serra first informed me, I was reluctant to believe but this,” he pointed to Zeon “Is proof enough,”

  Zeon did not hear what the Bishop had said as his world was consumed by fiery pain. He did not even know when he lost Consciousness, but he welcomed the reprieve.

  Thirty minutes earlier…

  Serra waited till Zeon was preoccupied with the food before she slipped out of the room. ‘This is my chance,’ she thought as she made her way down the hall until she found a guard.

  She did not even give him a chance to say anything before she spoke, “Please, I need to speak to the Bishop. We are not safe.” She did not know if it was the fear on her face or the seriousness in her voice, but the guard only nodded and motioned her to follow. She breathed a sigh of relief at this.

  He led her to a small room in the back of the cathedral. The guard made her wait outside as he went inside. He returned soon after allowing her in. It was a meeting room of sorts, the inside was adorned with a circular table and a few chairs, there were 4 people inside but the person that grabbed her attention first was an older man with salt and pepper black hair, a kind smile adorned his strong jawed face, his piercing blue eyes seemed to look right through you. He ushered her to a seat, and asked for an explanation to her previous statement.

  “So what did you mean that we are all in danger? Quite the heavy statement to make,” The Bishop said with a raised brow.

  And like that, Serra told them her tale. She started crying as all the emotions she had suppressed came back in a flood.

  It had been a normal day for Bishop Mathew, as normal a day one can find within these end times. He had been in a meeting with the other clergy when they were interrupted by Samuel, one of the guards, he came in claiming there was a woman who had said they were all in danger. This intrigued Bishop Mathew as every day in this new world was a danger, so he allowed her to come in so he could hear her tale. She had blonde hair and forest green eyes, but those eyes looked to have seen some terrible things, which brought a pang of sadness to the Bishop’s heart, for someone so young to hold so much pain was not right in his eyes.

  He invited her to sit and allowed her to begin her explanation. As she told her story, she started crying, and what he heard was truly concerning. From her explanation, she had been traveling with a demon, as she called it. Although he had some doubts, he only needed to look at the boy to know the truth as his skill, “Eyes of Judgement,” allowed him to see that which is hidden. He decided to cut the meeting short as this demanded his attention. God had given him the gift of sight, so he would be a fool not to use it. So he walked with Serra toward their little waiting room to confirm her claims. But what he found shocked him to his very core; he expected the boy to merely be possessed, but this was not the case as when he entered the room he saw for the first time in his life a true demon sitting on a couch in front of him. It stood up when they entered, it was 7ft tall with blue skin and a featureless face adorned only by a large mouth with needle-like teeth.

  “De… Demon!” he yelled in shock at this thing.

  He knew he had to act, and not even giving it a chance to react, he used his skill “Truth Unveiled,” which forced the thing to take its true form. Mathew’s body started glowing a soft white light as the skill activated. His shout had attracted two of the guards that had been on standby in case things went wrong, but they stopped in their tracks as they saw the beast, their mouths agape at what they saw.

  “What did you do!?” It screamed in outrage, its voice a deep growl sending shivers down Mathew’s spine as he heard it.

  But that was when things took a turn for the worse, as its aura began to change into something far more feral. It let off a thunderous roar as it lunged toward them with its dagger-like claws. The guards, having recovered from their shock, moved in to intercept him, but it cut through them like a hot knife through butter, barely meeting any resistance. He turned to the girl, grabbed her by the hand, and started running as he knew there was no surviving this if they were to fight, they would die, so he ran, he ran like he never ran before. The adrenaline pumped through his system as he ran, his mind working at a thousand miles a minute as he tried to think of a solution. He almost ran into one of the nuns but luckily stopped himself before the collision.

  “Are you okay, sir?” she asked, concerned by his haste and the sweat running down his temple.

  “There is no time to explain. Evacuate everyone to the catacombs and get all able-bodied fighters to the hall now!” He yelled at her; his words were highlighted by the ear-splitting roar that followed thereafter.

  She ran to do what was asked of her, but the Bishop’s focus had shifted. He started running again, he ran to the catacombs. People had already started filling in, relief entered his heart as he thought maybe they would survive this. When all the non-combatants entered the catacombs, they shut the stone door and started praying. There were thirty people inside, and they prayed like hell had frozen over and its inhabitants were at their doorstep, which was, in a sense, true.

  Through the day, they heard the screams of men as they were being killed and the roar of the monster they had allowed into their home. It was a horrible thing to hear; the smell of iron was heavy in the air due to the blood that had been spilled. Children wept, and mothers held them in their arms trying not to weep themselves at the husbands that had been killed or the sons that had lost their lives.

  At some point, the screaming stopped, but the silence was more unnerving than the screams as they all knew what it meant. Some held out hope that their warriors had been successful, but hours passed, and no one came, so they wept for those they had lost. One thing was certain: they would never forget what had happened here today.

  Zeon awoke with a pounding headache; his muscles were sore, and his mouth tasted of blood. He got up from the slippery ground. Why is it slippery? he thought. Looking down, he saw that the floor was covered in blood, but not just the floor; he was as well. Looking around, he saw a scene straight from his nightmares; all around him were the dismembered body parts of men. He even recognized the two guards that had been standing at the door; he felt sick.

  “What have I done?” He thought out loud, looking down at his bloodied hands in fear, before vomiting his guts out.

  Zeon knew he could not stay; no, he did not want to stay, so he ran.