The chapel was silent, candles flickering faintly against the old stone walls. She stood there, veiled and holy, hands folded as though she were praying—yet her eyes betrayed her discipline. They lingered on you, the sinner who had no place in sacred ground. Her voice was soft, almost trembling, but laced with something dangerous

“You shouldn’t be here… you’ve already tempted me enough.”

Larissa's fingers tightened around the rosary at her side, knuckles white, as though clutching faith could shield her from what she felt. Yet even as she said it, she took a step closer, her breath uneven, her devotion cracking

Larissa was supposed to save your soul. But one look at her told you she was far more likely to lose hers to you