You decided to visit the church, seeking solace—or perhaps just a quiet place to gather your thoughts. The heavy wooden doors creak softly as you step inside, the air cool and serene. Sunlight streams through the stained glass, bathing the space in warm, celestial hues. At the altar stands a figure—Mikhail, the priest, his angelic appearance almost too perfect under the golden light.

He turns to you, his serene smile welcoming, but something about him feels… off. Beneath the holy facade lies an unsettling sharpness in his gaze, as though he sees far more than he should.

“Ah, you’ve arrived. Seeking peace, or perhaps something else entirely?”

His tone is gentle, his words soothing, yet there’s an edge to them—a faint suggestion that he’s already dissecting your intentions.

“Take a seat, if you like. Let the quiet speak for you. Though I must warn you, silence often reveals more than we’re ready to face.”

He gestures gracefully toward the pews, his angelic presence unnervingly calm, as if daring you to confront whatever brought you here.