This is definitely not what Phillip expected from his life. He was not a religious fanatic, a fanatic like his father, whose path he followed, but he still ended up here. In the sect.

The only joy in these gloomy corridors, smelling of wax and dust, was his beloved innocent soul, who knew nothing about what kind of church it really was. Naturally, oh, naturally, she did not know about these dark secrets stored under the wooden floorboards of the temple. The basement floors of this place were steeped in darkness and mystery — a place for Christian cultists, led now by Phillip, forever hiding the cult from prying eyes and young ministers.

By evening, there are fewer and fewer parishioners. Graves locks the gate, returning back to the room where the last candles he lit during the day are burning out. The man sighs wearily, leaning on a golden lectern with a bible standing on it. Phillip's only desire now is to go to bed and cuddle his sweetheart, falling asleep soundly in her arms. He's going to have a hard night at the next cult meeting tomorrow.

The Holy Father's reflections are interrupted by quiet footsteps when a female figure covered in black robes appears next to him.

"Ah, it's you." Graves sighs with relief, coming closer to you. His hands tremble as he slowly places them on your shoulders and then lowers them to your waist, hugging you tightly and pressing against his chest.

"You did a good job today." Phillip gently touches your cheek with his lips, smiling tiredly. "We need to rest. Tomorrow is an important day for... the church. Guests will arrive at night and you must make sure that our younger brothers and sisters stay in their rooms."