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Arca Archa
Chapter 4: Fiat Voluntas Dei

Chapter 4: Fiat Voluntas Dei

Chapter 4:

Fiat Voluntas Dei

Sounds from an archaic radio filled the air as the gray haired security guard sat back in his chair and casually sipped tea from his insulated bottle. The voice on the radio was filled with majesty and boomed with energy as it announced the trailer for a brand new theatrical sensation that had taken the world by storm. It was the first mega-budget film of its kind, featuring an all-star all-Arcanian cast, the likes of which had never been assembled before, which had captivated both critics and audiences alike. Praises were sung like birdsong on the web and the ratings showed masterfully. Oh, what a wonderful, awe-inspiring production, with stunning visuals, astonishing story, and masterful choreography that no human could successfully reproduce.

"From a world long forgotten, in an era where ancient legends were born… A story unfolds, steeped in the bowels of Archa Astra history. The Kaplans, a proud and valiant clan… Rose to prominence, defending the Felid people. A retelling of true history, immerse yourself in the epic tale… Of mighty and noble Kaplans. Witness their indomitable spirit as they confront unimaginable challenges… A tale of honor, sacrifice, and the enduring strength that guarded an entire people. Experience the power, the glory, and the triumph! 'Legend of the Kaplan.' Playing in theaters now!"

Ding! The security guard recognized the familiar sound that had reached his ears countless times before. He turned his attention to the source and a smile graced his face as he saw the brilliant-haired girl step out of the elevator. He greeted her like he would his own granddaughter, "Good morning! Heading out to work, Canaria?"

Tote bag in hand and head adorned with a light brown beret, Canaria responded, "Yeah!" A cloud pin was stuck to her cap and it glinted with the light as her eyes and lips formed a charming smile. She was undoubtedly ready for the day ahead.

"How's your leg feeling? You were limping quite badly when your friend helped you back a few days ago," he inquired, paternal concern evident in the wrinkles on his face.

Canaria waved her hands in the air, dismissing his worries. "No, no, it was just a light sprain. I got better after staying home for a couple of days. I feel perfectly fine now!" Emphasizing her point, she hopped in place, lightly tapping the soles of her shoes against the stone tiles beneath her. Wincing slightly, she said, "See? A-Okay!"

"Ah, to be so young," he sighed as he shook his head wistfully. He continued, "I remember the days when I could run around, tumble, and take falls without a care. If I try to do that now, I'll be lucky to get away with only a few broken bones!"

The old man was beginning to drone again. Canaria managed a polite smile as she listened to him talk, though everything seemed to go in one ear and out the other. The last thing she wanted was to spend her morning caught in another of his long-winded tangents about nothing in particular. Timing was key if she wanted to get out of this fast. She saw her chance.

"Oh! Would you look at the time?" she exclaimed, her tone light with a touch of apologetic notes. She made a show of glancing at her phone, as if just now realizing her mistake. "I should really be on my way to work now— don't want to miss the bus!" she interjected skillfully. It made it seem like this was a matter of necessity rather than something deliberate. It was a tactic she had learned to employ, one that allowed her to gracefully cut short these conversations without being overtly rude. She harbored no ill feelings toward the security guard; he was a sweet, familiar presence she had known since moving into the apartment six years ago. However, she had neither the energy nor mouth of a gossiping nanny to be able to chat with him for hours on end.

"Well, is that so? Don't let me keep you in that case then!"

With a hurried farewell, Canaria swiftly exited the lobby, her step quickening as she dived headfirst into the sweltering heat of the outdoors. For the briefest moment, she even thought the heat was more preferable than staying indoors where it was air conditioned and nice. "That was a close one," she let out a relieved sigh as she wiped a bead of sweat that had already formed on her brow.

The morning sun was casting its warm hues across the city as Canaria made her way through the streets to the bus stop. The streets were spotless, thanks to the tireless robotic maintenance crews that worked day in and day out to ensure cleanliness. Even the trees lining the streets and the bushes at the park were meticulously pruned by drones and arboreal units. The city was bustling, just as it had always been, and would continue to be. Autonomous vehicles sailed through their lanes like a well orchestrated symphony, civilians walked on the streets, and advertisements blared from just about every exposed surface. She knew this rhythm well.

There was no need for any stop lights, cross walks, or worry when it came to crossing the street, as she was doing now. And as she looked through the windshields of the vehicles that had stopped to let her pass, she saw a businessman with his eyes completely focused on his work that was on his tablet computer, a woman immersed in putting on makeup, and even someone who was just taking a nap. Perhaps if a person from a hundred years ago had come to see this sight now, they would be shocked. However, a century was a long time and a lot of things have changed since. Fully autonomous vehicles have become the standard now.

Arriving at the familiar bus station, Canaria joined several other people in waiting for the next transit. It was a sheltered stop, with seven seats on a bench and a glass roof overhead just in case it rained. Though there were a few open seats, Canaria opted to remain standing instead. Somehow, it did not feel all too right for her to slot herself in between a bunch of middle aged and elderly people when she was still so youthful. She gazed up at the electronic display that indicated the arrival times of the approaching buses. The display was synchronized with the central transit control system, ensuring that passengers were always informed with accurate information. The bus arrived exactly when it was supposed to arrive, no sooner, no later. It showed up the exact second it was meant to be there. For Canaria, it had always been this way.

In the latter part of the previous century, there was a gradual decline in the legality of non-autonomous vehicles, especially on municipal roads. The final nail in the proverbial coffin came from a law that rendered all vehicles without level five automation entirely illegal on public roads. The old security guard belonged to the last generation that had to learn to drive for themselves to navigate anywhere. Canaria was grateful that she did not have to drive. While she acknowledged that driving itself was not too difficult– having experienced a realistic simulation at an arcade– she found it highly unnecessary to drive everywhere when there was no need to.

Maybe some found it relaxing, as some did like to ride bicycles, however Canaria was not among them. To her, it was simply unfathomable why anyone would ever willingly spend hours behind the wheel, having to focus solely on the road instead of taking a nap, watching a video, or engaging in other activities. Gone were the days of traffic jams, erratic schedules, and human errors. The world had inevitably become better as a result.

"It's here. Right on time," Canaria looked at the digital clock at the station as she watched the bus pull up to the curb with a gentle hum. Its sleek design and pristine exterior was a good reflection of the quality of the city itself. The doors glided open with a soft whoosh, inviting all the passengers aboard. Barring some signs of use, the interior of the bus was clean and spacious, enough for even the largest Arcanians to sit without complaint. As a matter of fact, she watched an Ursid couple sit side by side without problem, albeit they looked a bit stuffed sitting without leaving any space in between. After she paid the bus fare by tapping her phone against the chip scanner at the front, she scooted past them and sat closer to the back of the bus where there was an open row that seemed to call out to her.

"Doors are now closing. Please keep arms and legs away from doors. Remain seated or hold on while bus is in motion."

Once all was seated, a cool and smooth voice played overhead as the bus started moving as if on rails to smoothly merge into the flow of traffic. Canaria paid the voice no heed. She had ridden on the bus and listened to it more than enough time to know its instructions by heart. Rather, she found her gaze attracted to the cameras high above. While they were meant to ensure compliance with safety protocols, she could not help but feel a strange sensation towards them this time around. She suddenly felt self conscious of being looked at and nervously adjusted her beret to hide her face out of reflex.

"Thank you for riding with us."

The voice spoke as Canaria rose from her seat and made her way to the exit. Stepping off the bus and onto the sidewalk, she took a quick glance behind her. Maybe it was just her being paranoid, but she felt like the camera was fixated on her the entire time. "No, that's schizophrenic," she thought, dispelling these doubts as unreasonable. Then, she looked around to take in the familiar sights. Eventually, her gaze fixated on the building where she worked. Nestled between two towering buildings, the three-story tall oasis housed a cute trio of establishments owned and operated by the same proprietor. The ground floor enticed passersby with a cake store, while the top floor housed a popular bar that never failed to draw in a lively crowd, though Canaria had never ventured there herself. Canaria worked at the cafe on the second floor. It was a cozy little place, offering a peaceful respite from the bustling city and attracted a steady stream of customers all throughout the day.

As she ascended the stairs to the second floor, the sounds of the streets grew faint. There, a mahogany-stained windowed door decorated with vines greeted her. Upon opening the door to the cafe, she was enveloped in a blend of warm earth tones and subtle lighting, creating a comfortable and inviting ambiance. The interior was embellished with lacquered beams, strategically placed hanging plants, and a giant, eye-catching blackboard menu centerpiece that immediately captured the attention of anyone entering.

Upon arrival, Canaria wasted no time and immediately clocked in. The owner had not enforced a strict uniform policy, requiring only an apron adorned with the cafe's distinctive flower logo stitched to the front, along with her name embroidered under it. Canaria, of course, kept her beret on, finding it to be a nice complement to her work outfit. Her job was straightforward: serving tables, taking orders, crafting beverages, preparing simple foods, and delivering orders to the table. While it might seem overwhelming on paper, it was actually quite manageable, as the cafe primarily focused on serving simple drinks paired with cakes that came from a dumbwaiter connected to the store below. During off-peak hours, she could easily handle all the customers by herself.

Jasmine, a troublesome woman in her thirties, sauntered over with a curious smile. She had a full face of makeup, circle lenses, and brightly dyed orange hair. "You're always in a hurry to clock in, aren't you?" she remarked, "what's the rush?"

Canaria glanced at her coworker before her eyes went back to her workstation. She replied over her shoulders, "Well, I'm getting paid by the hour, so why shouldn't I clock in and maximize my paycheck?"

"No, no, no!" Jasmine shook her head playfully and shrugged. "Sure, girl, that's true and it makes sense, but that's just so boorish! You're being too uptight, yeah? You should loosen up a little! Enjoy life while you're young," she sighed dramatically. "Before you know it, you'll be in your 30's like me, and then in your 40's! And then, bam, 50's!"

Canaria chuckled in response. "I'm enjoying my life plenty enough," she reassured. And it was true because, unlike Jasmine, a full-time worker, Canaria had all the freedoms associated with being part-time only. Even if it meant counting pennies sometimes, the trade-off was well worthwhile to her. "Besides, I know someone who's about 50, but I swear he only looks 35!" Canaria huffed as she bragged about a certain new friend she made.

Jasmine's expression soured as disgust took her eyes. "Ugh, don't remind me. I'm turning 35 this year," she groaned before grabbing a lock of her hair and inspecting the ends. "See, just look at this mess! I'll have to go see my stylist again for a treatment. I never had hair problems when I was your age. Oh, I might have to work more hours this week again to do that," she sighed, already feeling tired at the mere thought.

Canaria's gaze shifted to Jasmine's orange hair. She could not help but offer a suggestion. "Ever consider maybe that's the reason why you keep getting split ends? If you ease up on the bleaching and dyeing, your hair might thank you," she said with a nonchalant shrug. "And who knows, less time at the stylist might mean less time working. Just food for thought."

Jasmine's eyes sparkled with amusement. "But he's so cute! I heard he just broke up with his girlfriend. Maybe I'll have a chance," she mused, her eyes turning dreamy as she twirled a lock of her hair in the air. So it was about a guy in the end, Canaria huffed. Then Jasmine noticed Canaria's vibrant blue hair and an idea struck her. "You know, maybe I'll dye my hair blue like yours. I think I could rock it. Say, where do you get your hair done? You're one to talk, telling me not to dye my hair so much and yet your roots never show."

Canaria's heart skipped a beat at the mention of her hair and her hand twitched involuntarily, reaching up towards her beret as if she could hide herself behind it. "It's natural!" Canaria blurted loudly, her gaze avoiding jasmine's eyes.

Jasmine was momentarily taken aback, but raised an eyebrow after with full skepticism. "Natural? Nah, no way. Who's born with blue hair? You're pulling my leg," the lady said, shaking her head, not buying what Canaria said one bit.

"One hundred– thousand– percent natural!" Canaria reaffirmed strongly, her cheeks warming slightly as she felt flustered. "It's so natural, in fact, it caused me a lot of trouble back when I was in grade school. The principal even called the authorities at one point suspecting a case of child abuse! You have no idea how traumatic it is for a ten year old to have to go through all that."

Jasmine winced sympathetically. "Yikes, that sounds super rough. Wait, does that mean the carpet— no, nevermind. Sorry for prying."

Canaria waved it off. "It's fine. It's a childhood me problem. Look, a bunch of customers just came in. Let's get back to work," she said, before mumbling, "It's not like I haven't given it thought to dye my hair before."

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Jasmine shrugged, not completely buying what Canaria said. "Really? A childhood you problem eh?"

Their conversation tapered off as they focused on the incoming customers. In a flash, their work face took over. Canaria took orders efficiently while Jasmine prepared the drinks in good harmony.

The hours flowed by, marked by the familiar cadence of taking orders, serving drinks, and engaging with customers. Amidst the steady stream of patrons, Canaria's mind occasionally wandered as she mechanically carried out her tasks. Thoughts of her finances lingered, especially as she reflected upon her recent encounter with Aaron, the boy she had helped a few days ago. She had been needlessly reckless. Considering what might have happened had things gone awry, she would have been in the trenches for months while trying to make up for the 1350 Ag that man demanded. With a heavy mental sigh, she pushed aside these concerns, focusing on the tasks at hand.

However, amidst the routine of her workday, one customer in particular brought her out of her blank trance— a striking Felid woman, boldly attired in a fashionable qipao and oversized round sunglasses that she continued to wear indoors. With uniquely rounded ears for a Felid, a tiger-like striped tail, and hair reminiscent of Edmond's white-ish gray hue, the woman commanded an aura of confidence that seemed to lack any subtlety. Canaria found herself quite intrigued by this visitor, especially since she seemed like someone who just walked off of fashion row.

"Oh, you have such a lovely face," the woman said, suddenly leaning over the counter top and complimenting Canaria. Her voice was brimming with both admiration and curiosity. Like inspecting a portrait, she pushed her sunglasses up to rest atop her forehead and delicately placed a hand on her chin, revealing ornate fingernail guards resembling a set of golden claws. "You're exactly the kind of person I've been looking for."

Canaria felt her cheeks flush at the unexpected praise. "Uh, thank you?" she stammered, her unconventional movement causing her beret to shift awkwardly. With a panicked flutter, she readjusted it, her fingers fumbling in the process.

The woman introduced herself with a charming smile that gleamed all the way up to her deep blue eyes. "I'm a filmmaker," she revealed, a spark of excitement dancing in her eyes. "Would you be interested in being part of my next film? I'm looking for someone to play the role of a heroine who gets pulled from her comfortable life and thrust into a completely different world. She must adapt and overcome numerous challenges to find success and reclaim the comfort that she once knew."

"I'm not sure, sorry. I don't think I can act in a movie," Canaria responded honestly. Briefly, her mind entertained the possibilities of what fame and celebrity status might bring her, but the idea only sounded appealing on paper. A part of her was skeptical of scams. Who knew if this was really how filmmakers went out to scout for talents? She had never even acted before, for goodness' sake! Accepting the offer would only result in her being swept along against her will.

Sensing Canaria's hesitation, the woman reassured her, saying, "Oh don't worry, I think I'll be able to make a star out of you. Just think it over. Here's my card. If you decide you're interested, give me a call." With a wink, she gracefully slid a sleek business card across the counter, simultaneously gesturing a phone call with her other hand, which lacked any ornate claws. The card bore the name "Sophie Lee."

Canaria awkwardly accepted the card and then took Sophie's order— which was tea; just tea, with hot water and nothing else. A rather unusual request in a time where indulgent and flavorful drinks were what everybody ordered. Unfortunately, their cafe did not have plain tea leaves to brew with, so Sophie ended up taking an order of hot honey lemon instead. The filmmaker stayed in the cafe for quite a while afterward, opting to take a seat at a table that faced towards the register as if she was staying to watch Canaria work. Canaria's eyes were occasionally drawn towards her, and each time they made eye contact, Sophie gave a sweet smile as if to remind Canaria of the recent offer. Truly, what an eccentric person, Canaria thought, but as she did not seem to harbor any ill will, Canaria let her do as she wished. Though strange, she was still a paying customer.

As the midday rush dwindled, Canaria found herself drained of energy, prompting her to finally take a break. Jasmine nodded in understanding, silently giving her the go ahead. The cafe was not busy enough to need both of them at the moment. With a graceful motion, Canaria removed her apron, hanging it on a nearby hook. She felt her footsteps drag as she made her way out.

"Hey!"

Before Canaria could depart, Jasmine hollered out to her, tossing a small white package in her direction. It landed neatly in her open hands, revealing a sandwich— the staff meal. "Thanks," Canaria mumbled graciously. She needed it. Little did she know however, her lunch break was about to take an unexpected turn… As she stepped outside, a man in the shop hurriedly finished his coffee and swiftly exited as well. He tipped his wide-brimmed hat to another customer who held the door open, simultaneously showing appreciation while also hiding his face at the same time. His movements were purposeful and determined. With measured steps, he trailed behind Canaria, ensuring that she remained within his sights at all times and that he would remain unnoticed.

Canaria's shoulders slumped as she settled onto a bench, exhaustion weighing heavily on her body. The day's work had drained her more than usual, evoking memories of the pressure she felt when she was first hired. It was an awful time, with her supervisor constantly watching her work over her back, their gaze burning a hole through her shoulders with their criticisms. Fond memories, those were not.

Seeking solace during her break, Canaria discovered a secluded spot in the park beneath the protective canopy of towering trees. Speckled sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting shifting shadows that danced like waves on the ground. These moments offered her a much-needed respite from the restless urban cityscape, allowing her to immerse herself in nature. Of course, the towering buildings that easily peered above the tallest trees served as a stark reminder of the world that was beyond this sanctuary.

In the distance, Canaria heard laughter and shouting. A group of kids was engrossed in a game of pretend, utilizing the playground as their arena. From afar, it appeared as though they were chasing and capturing creatures by hurling spheres— or something of the sort. It was difficult to discern when all she had to go off of was them flinging their arms around like monkeys. Yet, Canaria recognized the truth behind their actions. Though she could not see it from this far, she knew they were each wearing sleek AR headsets that projected images directly into their pupils, rendering their gameplay invisible to the naked eye. Therefore, to an outsider like her, it seemed no more than an elaborate game of make-believe.

Further along, Canaria spotted an elderly man selling ice cream from a vintage ice cream cart, a relic from the Before Rift era. His customers were an Arcanian couple, evident from their distinctive features and the language barrier that seemed to exist between the two parties. Despite this obstacle, they managed to communicate through the universal language of pointing and counting with fingers. Eventually, a successful transaction was made, and the elderly man handed over two blue sea salt ice cream bars to the couple.

Observing the interaction, Canaria's thoughts turned to the sandwich she had been given. She had some food on her as well. She carefully removed the stickered seal without tearing the paper and peered inside. "It's an egg sandwich," she murmured to herself, taking in the golden-white filling with her eyes, before taking a bite and relishing in the flavor. The in-house sandwiches were always a favorite of hers, striking a perfect balance between fattiness and acidity. There was even a time when she indulged in them exclusively for a week, until she was caught by Angelica and forced to maintain a more balanced diet.

Unbeknownst to Canaria, despite her choice of a secluded spot, she was not as alone as she had initially presumed. Stealthily emerging from the shadows of the surrounding foliage, a figure approached with graceful steps, barely disturbing the undergrowth as they drew nearer.

Twenty steps remaining. The surroundings were quiet, and the closest other souls were too immersed in their AR game to pay attention.

Fifteen steps. A rustle in the leaves momentarily broke the silence, but it blended seamlessly with the sound of blowing winds against the grass and bushes.

Ten steps. A crack in the air caught the attention of nearby birds, but it was nothing more than a tree stretching its branches in the heat.

Five steps. Canaria remained oblivious to the presence closing in on her as she swallowed her food.

Four steps... Three steps... Two... One…

Zero— A pair of eyes peered down at the bright-haired girl, unnoticed. The scent of eggs wafted to their nostrils as their gloved hand reached out. Then, just as Canaria took another bite of her sandwich…

"Excuse me, do you have a moment to talk?" A man's voice came from behind, spooking Canaria, who had been caught completely off guard.

"Uh, yes?" Putting down her sandwich, Canaria responded, her voice betraying a hint of trepidation. She saw a man of European descent possessing a certain Mediterranean allure with his slightly dark skin, hazelnut eyes, and neatly groomed appearance. His cleanly shaven beard framed a strong jawline, accentuating the sharp angles of his features. Dark hair, meticulously combed, fell in gentle waves above his brow. Tall and imposing, he towered over Canaria, his presence commanding attention where he stood.

Dressed in plain dark clothes with a crucifix hanging off his neck, he exuded an air of solemnity and grace. Despite the warmth in his smile, there was a subtle intensity in his gaze, hinting at depths of conviction beneath the surface. As he spoke, his voice resonated with a calm confidence, each word carefully chosen and delivered with certainty. "I apologize for startling you. Thank you for taking the time to speak with me," he began, his tone polite and friendly. "My name is Alan John, AJ for short, and I am a missionary for the Agios-Papal Church. Have you heard about our religion?"

Canaria hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond. She was indeed familiar with the Agios-Papal Church, as it held the distinction of being the largest religion on Earth. However, being non-religious herself, she was not particularly fond of being solicited. Not to mention, she felt unease about how he just approached her from behind. "Yes, I've heard of it," she admitted cautiously. "I know people who attend mass every week, but I'm not very familiar with the details."

AJ nodded understandingly. "That's perfectly alright. The Agios-Papal Church is always welcoming to the newly faithful, as well as those who simply want to dip their toes to test the water. Speaking of, our church is rich with culture and history, and I would really like to share them with you. It won't take longer than a moment," he explained, his enthusiasm evident.

"I mean, I guess I have some time," Canaria said awkwardly. Truthfully, she did not want to continue speaking to AJ, but now that he already had a foot in the door, it was hard for her to abruptly cut him off. Like prey caught in the hunter's gaze, she always struggled to turn down people who were passionate about what they were preaching.

Nodding, AJ walked around to the front of the bench. "May I take a seat next to you?" he asked politely. Upon Canaria's approval, he sat down beside her. AJ then began; his words painted a vivid picture of the Agios-Papal Church's history, unveiling layers of tradition and belief that Canaria never fully appreciated. "For example," he told her, explaining how the Prophet served as the first Pope and performed miracles to prove the existence of God. "And just as the Prophet is the son of God, every Pope who came after him is also the child of God."

"I see," Canaria murmured, nodding along as AJ listed off details as if they were pieces of a puzzle falling into place on a canvas rifed with missing pieces. The notion of the Pope performing miracles to prove the existence of God was certainly interesting; each successive Pope having to continue the tradition of performing miracles upon their succession made it even more fascinating to her. With how much society and technology have advanced, it was easy for a person like her to doubt this aspect of the church, especially towards the end of the previous era. However, in this era filled with Arcanian mysticism and artes, it instead sparked newfound curiosity about just how long ago the Agios-Papal Church had been tied to Archa Astra.

"Though, I must clarify, not every Pope in history has performed a miracle. There have been times when the world's chaotic state of affairs prevented it. On those occasions, the ascending Pope instead gave an oracle of the future." AJ further explained, correcting a thought Canaria had.

"That is not to say there have not been many remarkable miracles performed by the Popes throughout history," he elaborated, his voice taking on a reverent tone. "For instance, the second Pope, known as Saint Benedict, ended a devastating decade-long drought. The parched lands were blessed with rain, and crops flourished once more, saving countless lives from starvation. Pope Alexander II, one of our most revered figures, was said to have healed the sick and afflicted with a single touch. His compassion knew no bounds, and his miracles brought hope to the downtrodden and suffering. And then there was Pope Francis, who prophesied a great flood and convinced a king to stop in his war march, which in turn prevented thousands of lives from drowning."

Canaria listened as AJ continued to unfold the history of the Agios-Papal Church. While she found herself viewing the religion in a new light, she remained quite steadfast in her own beliefs. Despite having respect for AJ's passionate sincerity, she could feel herself nearing the limit of her tolerance. Luckily for her, just as she was contemplating how to disengage from this conversation, her phone buzzed, offering her the most convenient excuse.

"Pardon me, I think I have to go now. My break is over and I must get back to work," Canaria said, offering a polite smile. It would still be ten minutes early if she were to head back now, but she preferred that over staying here any longer. However, before she could get up from the bench, she felt a forceful tug on her wrist, causing her heart to race as she instinctively turned her eyes towards the only other person there.

"Apologies for startling you," AJ said calmly, his tone soft and reassuring as he released her wrist, momentarily revealing what looked to be a silver wristband. "I didn't mean to startle you. I just wanted to ensure we had a chance to finish our conversation. You see, there's something important I'd like to share with you, something that I believe could greatly benefit you."

He paused for a moment, giving her a warm smile before continuing, "I understand if you're hesitant, but I truly believe that what I have to say could offer you some clarity and peace of mind. Perhaps we could continue our conversation over a cup of tea? There's a quaint little cafe nearby where we could sit and chat comfortably. What do you say?"

"I'm sorry, but I really need to get back to work. Maybe another time," Canaria told him.

"I completely understand," AJ responded with a gentle nod, his expression still warm and understanding. "Of course, your work is important. But before you go, could I at least offer you a ride back to your workplace? It's the least I can do after interrupting your break."

He gestured towards a sleek, unmarked vehicle nearby, the windows tinted as if shielding its occupants from prying eyes. "It's just over there, and it would save you the trouble of walking. What do you say?"

"No, I have to refuse." Canaria said. Seeing the vehicle in the distance, she suddenly had a sinking feeling in her stomach. As AJ gestured, he flashed what was on his wrist again. Seeing it a second time, Canaria realized what it was. She paled as the blood drained from her face into a pit in her stomach. That was an ACD! It was an artes casting device that allowed non-Arcanians to cast artes! However, given how prohibitively expensive one was, it was not something that an ordinary civilian would have, much less someone who was a missionary. Remembering back to the feelings of being watched the entire day, she grew incredibly suspicious of AJ. She was afraid that if she went with him, she might get kidnapped and never see the light of day ever again.

AJ maintained his calm demeanor, understanding Canaria's apprehension. "I completely respect your decision," he said reassuringly, his tone gentle and non-threatening. "I apologize if I've made you uncomfortable in any way. If you ever change your mind or need assistance in the future, please don't hesitate to reach out to me or anyone from the Agios-Papal Church."

With a nod and a warm smile, he leaned back slightly, giving Canaria space and acknowledging her autonomy. "Take care, and have a blessed day," he added, giving Canaria the opportunity to return to work undisturbed.

As Canaria turned away, relief washed over her. However, before she could even take two steps and draw a breath, a sharp pain pierced her shoulder like a needle stabbing into her flesh. Gasping, she spun around, only to meet AJ's gaze, cold and devoid of emotion. "Fiat voluntas Dei. May God's will be done," she heard AJ speak in Latin, his voice carrying the weight of untold decades of convictions. His words, spoken in the ancient tongue of his faith, sent a shiver down Canaria's spine as she felt her consciousness slipping away.

"Anny…" Canaria croaked, thinking of her best friend in this final moment of hers. Then, everything faded to black, and she experienced a sudden sensation of falling as the world spun around her.

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