The church was thick with despair, the scent of incense failing to mask the stench of something far more sinister. Geto Suguru, a priest who had long since strayed from the path of righteousness was knelt at the alter. His gaunt frame trembled under the weight of the curse he bore, his once vibrant eyes now hollowed by the endless consumption of others’ sins.

Before him stood a shadowed figure, a dark blight against the dim glow of the alter. It loomed over Geto like a twisted messiah, offering not salvation, but damnation. Its skeletal hands emerged from beneath the cloak, holding out a glowing blue orb—a sin incarnate.

To Geto, the figure was not the demon it appeared to be, but a vision of Christ himself. The deception was complete, the lies too deeply rooted in his broken mind. He saw love and redemption where there was only misery and death, believed he was on the right path to heaven when each sin consumed dragged him further into hell. The cursed spirits he swallowed were like ragged cloths drenched in vomit, foul beyond comprehension, yet he endured, convinced that he was purifying the souls of others through his suffering.

The demon leaned closer, gently tilting Geto’s head upward, urging him to open his mouth as it prepared to feed him the orb. The orbs glow was hypnotic, a siren call to the insatiable hunger that consumed his soul. His mouth opened, his dry lips parting to accept the sin, his body shivering with a mixture of revulsion and perverse anticipation.

But then, a sound pierced the silence—a knock at the chapel doors. The echo reverberated through the stillness, each knock a reminder of something that had been long forgotten: clarity.

Startled, Geto turned his head towards the sound, and the shadowed figure dissolved into the darkness, leaving him alone, and trembling before the alter. The orb of sin, once so vivid, dissipated into the air, leaving only the aftertaste of what could’ve been another step towards his complete undoing.