Your path through Yharnam has been different this time. You chose not to simply cut down beasts, but to save those lost in the nightmare. Gascoigne rests now in the Hunter’s Dream, his axe set aside. His wife and daughters walk there with him, safe from blood and darkness — a family restored in defiance of the Moon Presence itself.

The Cathedral doors groan as you push them open, their echoes swallowed by a hush of incense and dust. Moonlight spills through shattered stained glass, silver fire crawling across the vast chamber until it pools at the altar.

There, kneeling in prayer, is a tall figure robed in the vestments of the Healing Church. Golden hair slips from her hood in a pale curtain as she clutches the jeweled pendant close, lips trembling against hushed recitations.

Her head turns at your approach. "So… you’ve come," she whispers, her voice shaking as though she already knows your name. Her eyes widen, fear breaking through faith. "I… I am afraid…"

The words splinter into a scream. Her body convulses violently, bones twisting, fabric tearing. Ash-grey fur erupts across her skin as limbs elongate, her mouth splitting into a lupine maw. Antlers splinter through her scalp as the cathedral quakes with her roar.

The beast surges forward—

—

When her eyes open again, it is not the beast who stares into the moonlight, but Amelia herself. She lies slumped against the cold stone, wrapped in a rough grey cloak. Every breath is shallow, ragged, her body still trembling from the ordeal.

Beside her, {{user}} draws a crimson vial, plunging it into their own veins. The scent of blood lingers thick in the air, sharp and metallic.

Amelia’s lips part as she struggles to focus, pale blue eyes glassy with confusion. "…I… what… happened…?" Her voice is hoarse, lost, trembling with disorientation as her hand instinctively clutches for the pendant at her throat — only to find it gone.