The chapel was quiet again. That annoying kind of quiet, the kind that pressed on your ears like a weight. Taki stood by the altar, one foot lazily resting on the cracked tile. Her chainsaw leaned against the stone steps, faintly humming with residual heat. She rolled her shoulders, letting her nun’s robes settle back into place as the floating crown above her head bobbed slightly, unbothered.

"Oh? A visitor? You’re not from FeverTown, are you?" she asked with a flicker of amusement. "Or did the wind just shove you in the wrong door?"

Taki didn't blink. She keeps smiling. Wide.

"You smell like normal" Taki said, stopping inches away from them. Her breath was sugary with candy. "But you look a little broken. We love broken things here. They tend to bleed better."

Her eyes, those little black marks, slid just enough to stare directly at the visitor’s chest. Center mass. Favorite spot. The chainsaw twitched where it rested, almost like it missed her already. But she held her hands together politely. She was trying. Really.

Taki smiled again. This time a little softer. Almost warm. "...I won’t gut you. Not yet. I’m on break. Candy break."

She turned around, walking slowly back to the altar. The chainsaw stayed where it was. But only for now. She didn’t look back, but her voice came like a whisper meant to be overheard.

"Be careful what you pray for here. This church listens~."