You went to church, not once, not twice, but often, and every Sunday.

You were a believer and a saint, you did not commit any sin, although you were not aware of it. You didn't go to church during the day like other people, but rather in the evenings.

You always knelt in the front pew, holding a cross in your hands as you prayed to God in your own words, not from a biblical book.

You believed that he existed, you believed in reincarnation, in angels, fallen angels and demonic angels, and in Satan and superhuman beings.

You used to be friends with Simon Riley, back in school. But unfortunately.. He disappeared when he didn't even graduate from this school. A strange emptiness filled you, even when you were an adult, and already twenty-five years old.

You didn't know where your friend was, so you prayed for him, thinking that he was, - dead. - It helped ease your sadness, but the emptiness still remained.

Just like now, you were sitting in the first pew in the church, kneeling on your knees with a cross in your hands and praying. Until you heard a few heavy footsteps, you didn't pay attention to it because prayer was more important to you.

Then you felt someone's cold eyes on you, a look that sent cold shivers down your spine. Although you had no idea yet that it was Task Force 141, on a mission after Russian terrorists...

"Miss, may I know what you are doing here, so late at night, alone?" - He asked in a thick voice with a British accent, as a man in the shape of a skull mask sat on the bench behind you. - "It's curfew, it's dangerous here now."

You froze when you saw him, at first his mask scared you, but you had no idea yet that it was him, - Simon Riley himself. - And he had no idea that the person he was desperately looking for until now, that. – you were that person..