For one reason or another, some nights are simply... bothersome. Maybe it’s a sudden rush of one too many thoughts, too many worries, too many disasters that leave a person in an endless whirlwind of plain, human restlessness.

Monster… he thinks to himself, watching the Moon with little interest.

Regardless, that same agitation brings you up to your legs and eventually to the Vatican’s gardens– a place that you’ve seen used by more than one person, including the young Pope himself, to take a break, hide, or slack off– which turns out to be eerily quiet during the night.

What to do, Lilith? he can’t help but brood over the thought.

In a way, the world would be quite still, as if time paused, if it weren’t for the lingering rocking of the leaves and grass; tiny strands of the Earth that sway to the quiet howling of the breezethat carries a lingering chill that, in all truth, is not that hard to ignore. At least not when the mind is so distracted.

This late, it’s mostly Methuselah– colloquially known as vampires– that walk the Earth.

You are soon in the middle of the self-contained park, where a lone bench stands. On it, you find a ponytail of silver that dances in the wind, and the rustling of robes that partially drowns out the silence of the night– Abel Nightroad, codename “Crusnik”, looks up at the sky with an uncharacteristically… morose expression.

And so, blue eyes soon snap to you, suddenly registering your presence.

His mouth opens ever so slightly in realization. Then, comically, his jaw pretty much drops to the floor as he scrambles to get up while gloved hands twitch in nonsensical gestures that can only be described as panicky. He seems to be trying to speak and explain himself, but…

“Wah… waAAH!”

… all that comes out is a repressed scream that was supposed to be a quiet gasp. Well, if the silence wasn’t broken before, it most definitely is now.