Chapter 1: Prologue

Father,

I’ve committed a crime.

A terrible sin

no one should ever know.

‘Cause someone ought to know.

Someone, who ain’t part of it.

Father, please,

let me tell you our stories.

No. No. No.

I’m here to tell our stories,

not to be forgiven.

‘Cause we’d take it

to our graves if not...

...Before doing the right thing.

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Chapter 2: Reminiscent [Aya]

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How do you do it?

How do you narrate your story to a stranger? To anyone at all?

To someone who wasn't part of the events that lead to the current, but still has to hear my side before it's too late...That someone, who could be an impartial judge and tell me if our actions were right or wrong. Was it wrong to seek pardon from someone, whose hands weren't covered with blood? To be forgiven even if I end up condemned for my actions?

My Grandmother used to say that every story has a beginning and an ending, however, it was up to us to decide our fates. That we write our own history with the actions we take or words we speak. So, perhaps that's how I'll start telling our story…

Soo-Won...Seiren...Ikuto…

I shall start with how I met them, and how I lost them.

"Who were they?"

I nearly jumped in the little wooden confession booth, I’d briefly forgotten where I was and with whom. I glanced at the barely see-through small wooden-made window, seeing only the person’s silhouette, scratching his head. At least, I thought he was. I could've used the Layers to see him for who he was.

But I came here for anonymity.

My eyes were clouded with emotions, much like a glass that was spilling over with never-ending water, threatening to break under the pressure. I bit my lip, pushing back the flow of feelings that threatened to overflow my already fragile determination.

"...They’re my greatest regrets, and at the same, the source of my greatest happiness."

The memories surrounding the three were the reason why I couldn’t give up, I had to make the world right, again, by taking a proper measurement to ensure that their sacrifices weren’t in vain. I couldn't let them down.

Not after getting this far.

Because doing anything else would be an insult to them all, and it's not just to the boys. But to everyone else who has also lost their lives in this mess. That's why I need to ensure that someone would hear my story before I left for one last fight.

Before everything disappeared, leaving behind just unspoken memories, and tragedies that shouldn't have happened.

"Perhaps, you'd like to collect your thoughts for a bit before you continue, Miss?"

The Priest's voice was soft, calming, and understanding. For a moment, it felt as though he wasn't going to judge me for anything he was about to hear, and it calmed down my nerves. I took a small breath, relaxing my body before I said anything else.

"No," I shook my head, glancing down at my hands that rested on my lap. One hand was still bandaged, covering the entire palm area, leaving out just fingers. Barely though. The other had some scratches here and there, but nothing too bad.

Except for an old scar that hauntingly illustrated my right hand's palm. The church’s dimly lit lights illuminated the scar, putting it in a spotlight, and reminding me of the events and how I got it. The pain was still fresh - my stomach twisted, sickeningly.

"I don't have too much time to waste. I need to talk with someone before I go - too many people have sacrificed their lives for us to get us this far. To change something in our unfair system that relies on leeching on the poor and enjoys pampering the privileged. And for what? Nothing's changed!"

My fingers clutched tightly to the ancient cross-shaped necklace I wore. It was older than my entire family together. The green emerald stone in the middle seemed to sparkle at the contact, and an eerie whisper echoed in the back of my mind, locked behind a red door.

"Perhaps, that's God's way to teach you the values of a life or what's important Miss," the Priest sounded confident. "We learn from our mistakes. That's how we know what to do better."

I nearly snorted at the prospect of a God guiding me through everything, finding it strangely ironic. The mere aspect of me having sought temporary sanctuary from a church would've been hilarious. It's not that I disliked the idea of it.

No.

But because of what I've done. What my family - clan - has done and our connections to the Demons. And the biggest reason? I was sent to the deepest spot of Hell and managed to survive it. I returned to unleash my vengeance on those responsible for ruining my life, for causing Soo-Won's death.

For forcing me to form the greatest taboo within Sorcerers and form a Contract with a Demon.

So, you see the irony of someone like me asking for salvation from God's house?

"My Dear Sir," I shook my head, barely able to contain my laughter. I wondered how this Priest was going to react when he heard it all... "Please, restrain yourself from commenting on what or who a God is until you've heard everything. I think...with everything that's happened, you'll understand why I'm finding it hard to believe in a single Entity."

For a brief moment, there was a silence, which was followed by a sigh.

"Very well, Miss." His voice sounded displeased. "Where would you like to start?"

I leaned against the wall behind me, positioning my body so that it was comfortable to sit here for a while.

"I guess, it all started the day after I turned four when I first witnessed Death..."