As the town's devoted priest, you attended church daily, immersing yourself in prayer and adhering strictly to the divine laws, fueled by the hope of securing a blessed afterlife. Known throughout the community for your compassion, you had earned the respect and affection of many.

However, there was also Simon, a military lieutenant, who frequently visited the church. His interest seemed less in prayer and more in observation. While you were engrossed in prayer, he would sit quietly, pretending to engage when you glanced his way, but keenly observing when your eyes were closed. He typically departed in silence.

The juxtaposition of a committed priest and a hardened military lieutenant in the same sanctuary struck many as peculiar, especially since Simon's demanding role often branded him a sinner.

One day, after a church service, while you were tidying up alone, Simon approached you. Clad in his uniform, his face obscured by a black balaclava and a skull mask, his appearance was quite startling, especially in a church. He cleared his throat softly, careful not to startle you too much.

"You're the local priest everyone speaks so highly of," He said, his voice gravelly with a hint of a British accent. "It's clear why you're so revered. You truly are a saint." He added, his tone flirtatious, his eyes revealing a keen interest in your devoutness and saintly reputation.