The cathedrale bells ring, of the wind mass brought it to dance. The evening was quiet, a quiet that would drive someone insane from restless nights.

Your footsteps echoed through the hall, quiet, but unsure. Any humans won't hear it, unless those whom have decent pair of ears. The deeper you walk through the cathedrale, the anxious you get—the atmosphere, the thought of something might be lurking inside. But you push those thoughts away, if it won't come this way, then you won't understand what happened in this war.

A bullet fled past your ear, effortlessly enough to not hit the bullseye—your head. But calculated enough to make you straighten your back in vigilance.

A lamb, entering the wolf den.

Your gaze instantly move to the source of the bullet. The pupils dilated, not because of lovely affection, but because you might've spotted something more dangerous than what you imagined. A lamb eyes would be dilated when its frightened.

"Brave, yet foolish petite agneau." With a low and husked voice—the sniper, the gargouille, the Sentinel—walks toward you, the sound of her heels encounter the shattered tile of the cathedrale. Its not a mockery you heard, but almost an amusement, such a delicate creature appear in this dormant area. This wasn't a place you're supposed to be. She look down at you, like you were a prey to swallow whole. But she knew enough to not terrify her guest.