With the amount of skeletons they encountered on this floor, it seemed more appropriate to call it a catacomb. There were some located in traps while others had been gathered around a higher-than-usual concentration of white dust.

“Must have been quite the battle here,” Tibaut remarked.

By his count, there had been about twenty skeletons they had seen so far.

(“Twenty-five if we consider the extra limbs without bodies.”)

He rolled his eyes and turned his attention to Agnes.

“Hey, Agnes, why'd you guys come to this place anyway?” He asked.

She continued breathing while staring intensely at his body. She had a smile on her face which worried him.

“You good Agnes?”

He placed his hand on her shoulder and had to shake her for a bit before she snapped out of it.

“Oh uh, wha?”

He quickly looked at the shirt in her hands and thankfully, it seemed she was still creating the (albeit quite crude-looking) map.

“Phew, who knows how many more circles we'd be travelling if you dozed off.”

They had gotten sleep several hours earlier but he wouldn't call it beauty sleep and to his knowledge, well, disregarding the existence of more women like the weird one he encountered earlier, no one was down here. And even if someone was, it was unlikely they would encounter Tibaut. It was obvious what he was thinking.

(“You wouldn't infuriate one of those women while I'm asleep right?”) He asked.

(“Consider it like a… what were those things called in your world again? Ah yes, alarm clocks. As long as you sleep in a timely manner you won't have to worry about them.”)

That was probably the best answer Tibaut could hope to get out of this bitch and he decided to risk it.

He brought Agnes into a room with an empty chest and a skeleton he promptly threw outside.

(“I won't get cursed right?”)

(“That's none of my concern.”)

She was joking….. right?

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

He decided to place it gently on the floor, leaning it against the wall and said a few prayers before heading back inside.

“(Is this my chance!?) Um, why are we here?” She outwardly looked confused as to why they stopped but it was more nervousness about what being in this place could lead to.

“I think we could use some rest. You're obviously groggy and I'm honestly not too thrilled about having to fight another one of those women feeling tired.”

“There's more!?” She almost shouted.

“Uh, it's just a hypothetical.” He said while clearing his throat.

She breathed in deeply and sighed. “(T-that women was fucking creepy. I don't think I could handle seeing another one. Plus what was her deal putting her hands on him, bitch I'm the one who's the protagonist here, not you, I don't care if you're an angel or a fallen angel I'll…..) Whew.” She simply stated.

“Anyway, I've been meaning to ask.”

She perked up and looked interested. As ideas flooded through and she braced herself, he asked away.

“What's with this place?”

She deflated like a balloon but managed to get some words out.

“What do you mean?” She asked, sounding lifeless.

Tibaut looked around for a moment before continuing.

“I mean look at this place. It isn't just somewhere you'd find randomly now, would you?” He replied.

She rested her finger against her lip and thought for a moment.

“I guess it is kinda weird Father Daniel knew where this place was.”

“Huh, what does that mean? Are you saying you didn't know about it?”

“N-no. When we came here we didn't think twice about the place as long as we had a roof above our heads.”

“(I guess she would be too far down the totem pole to know anything meaningful about this place.) I see. Who's that father Daniel anyway?”

“Huh? He's the priest. (Huh, I could have sworn he came here to kill him. Oh, who cares, as long as I get to leave this shithole with a guy like this he could be his brother for all I care.)”

“Priest…(I guess they have official sounding titles in this cult. It makes sense if it is a force of some country. I wonder if they have anything weird in there like vice bishops or pope admiral.)” He very briefly got sidetracked fusing church and military titles before getting back on topic.

“So he's your boss?”

“Basically. He controls the activities of all followers in this parish. I think the duties were divided between him and another priest but I believe he died a few months ago.”

(“Another priest? Well, there was that thing Elizabeth did that was snuff them out, along with Ezekiel. Could it have been that? Shit could this be the reason why those guys in black are here?”)

He turned to her and asked another question.

“Did you see any important guys that wear black!?” He asked. It came out somewhat aggressive but he didn't care how it sounded. He had to have this answered.

“Black? The priest prefers the colour but I can't say I've seen anyone else wear it. (Oh is this part of his deep and mysterious backstory? M-m-maybe I should…)” The thought of actually initiating any sort of interaction to comfort or seduce him left her as stiff as a brick.

“(What am I thinking? Of course she probably doesn't who these guys are, considering what she said they're probably on par with her boss. Guess that'll have to wait till the others come.) Sorry bout that, I just heard about this group of guys so I was just wondering if they were real.”

“Oh. (Who could he be talking about? The bishops don't wear black. Or maybe there's some secret group he's fighting alongside the church?)”