Walking over, he silently helped the nun don her clothing even as she continuously wept. He uttered no words, for he had none to offer that would work. Anabella offered no resistance whatsoever as he handled her like a toddler, even though both she and Luca were much older.

‘What a disaster,’ he sighed as he watched the unconscious bully who took his role in the drama a step too far.

Normally, he wouldn’t mind Luca’s antics because it was none of his business. He wasn’t among the ones being pushed around, and if he was ever confronted — he’d be able to run away. He’d never passively eaten a beating, except from Anabella.

‘Tch. Who would’ve thought she’s this weak,’ as he unscrupulously scrutinized the traumatized girl and labeled her weak, he couldn’t help but reassess things. The shadow of fear she nurtured in his heart for a decade vanished like a past dream.

Observing Luca who lay on the ground, he pondered what to do with him. The boy would wake up in the morning with a temper, and even if they alerted the town guards, not much would be done. At most, they would enlist the brawny kid to serve in the army. He’d return years later bearing a grudge, and Anabella would definitely suffer then.

‘Should I kill him?’

The thought seemed very inviting at the moment. Leo had naturally never taken a life, nor had he developed a sudden interest for it. That said, it seemed like the optimal choice. It would end it all, and that would be it — no retribution or fear.

‘Still,’ he hesitated, “He’s just a stupid teen.’

Unaware how to proceed, he stared back and forth and juggled the dilemma for minutes. Yet, as Bella’s stifled cry echoed in the small chapel without abating, he finally set his determination — ethics be damned.

‘Stupid or not, he hurt her and went too far. He must pay!’

Walking resolutely towards Luca, he struck two fingers against his legacy jewels. A precision strike as it were, it crumbled the insides of his testes into mush. Were he awake, Luca would undoubtedly be invoking generations of his ancestors with a hoarse cry by now. Unfortunately, he was painlessly unconscious as his manhood was rendered irreparably defunct.

Having discontinued Luca’s life as a normal man, Leo figured he’d never attempt something like this again. It would take some miracle to even grow a full beard from now on with, no less make use of his tool.

Dragging the boy out of the chapel and out the main gates, he tossed him in a ditch just outside the monastery. He then made his way into his room to collect his belongings, and promptly discarded them along with the trash.

Should he wake up in the morning, he’d know he can no longer call this place home. Were he to retaliate, Leo would be happy to administer further punishment. With both his floating ribs cracked and his liver damaged, he’d never stand a chance in the following weeks.

Returning to the chapel, he found Anabella in the same place, having not moved a meter and still whimpering in tears.

‘Seems like this event will leave her will broken if nothing is done.’

Assessing calmly from the side, Leonardo pondered what to do as he approached the traumatized creature. He brought her down from the altar and walked her to her room, changing locations to hopefully calm her down.

Sitting her on the bed, he gave her some water to drink - which she accepted somewhat unconsciously. Clearly dissociated, she seemed like a broken marionette that would submit to everything without complaint.

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With an umpteenth sigh, he drew her head up against his chest and gently embraced her. Stroking her hair as he shook her in his arms, he finally managed to calm her down after a good hour.

Having sniffled until her glands almost dried, her face was full of snot. Yet, Leo seemed unbothered and didn’t feel any disgust. Laying her under the quilt when she became groggy, he helped clean her face and finally laid the girl to rest.

She fell asleep immediately, much to his relief.

By the time he left her room, it was already past midnight. He set things in order and locked the chapel, then making sure the rest of the runts were asleep, finally retired to his own room.

It had been an eventful day and Leo was exhausted, prompting him to skip his meditation for once and plop down in his bed - drifting asleep as well. That night — he dreamt.

- — ☯ — -

A white void swallowed his consciousness, and he found his unfettered soul drifting through it seemingly without aim. Distance was relative and utterly meaningless as he moved at the speed of thought. He was strangely lucid in his exploration, but found nothing even as he crossed entire galaxies.

There was only the void, and a silent call. Tugging at him from afar, from a direction or time he was entirely unfamiliar with. Only the occasional pull at his heartstrings served as guide to his instincts — a longing across spacetime.

After what may have been five minutes or an eon, he saw a massive mountain in the distance. Seemingly carved out of the void, it floated in the emptiness as if the sole thing in existence. Streaks of lethal spatial tears almost shrouded it from view, but he knew just how to get there.

Drawing through the chaotic barrier with odd familiarity, he finally saw the mount in its full glory. A lofty temple was carved in its peak, the stone gates slightly ajar to reveal a gentle light seeping from within. It acted like an inviting beacon, beckoning him home.

A pristine blue waterfall gushed from the top and coiled past the entrance like a heavenly moat. Neither the source of the river nor its end were known, both occluded by the devouring maw of the void.

In his ascent, Leonardo avoided it by a mile, instinctively aware he would perish after a mere touch. The waters were inviting, promising to reveal secrets from as early as the dawn of creation. Mustering his will and lying to himself that he could always come back, he finally crossed the moat with some difficulty.

Reaching the base of the temple, he found himself assailed by an unknown pressure. The stone walls were unassuming and plain, and the gates weren’t sculpted from jade either. Limestone, as cracked and worn as it could get.

It was the sporadic etchings that birthed his fear — vivid imprints that foretold of an era of chaos. Hidden in layers of stone and obscured by the cracks, the etched memories sought to draw him in… to kindle his imagination and impart their story of horror.

Shivering from cold sweat, Leonardo regained awareness just as he was about to touch one of the the carvings. He recoiled in fear, and didn’t even bother to conceal his startled yelp.

His knees trembled even now, so he could only sit down cross-legged to take a breather. Reining in his labored breath, he tore one of the rags accompanying him and tied it around his eyes like a blindfold. In the darkness, he found the courage to continue.

The pressure abated, and without the visual stimuli he was able to cross the gates. He trusted none of his senses, so he could only walk the path as he remembered it.

Magic seemed out of reach here as well, and try as he might it — he could do nothing but go with the flow. Whether it was because he was in soul form, or this place had different laws, he couldn’t even cast basic perception spells.

Only his instincts prevailed, their guidance leading him to the end of the corridor. He crosses 99 doors, each whispering an invitation of their own. At the end of the tunnel, light greeted him. The hundredth door was open, pale candles flickering as they welcomed him in.

Pacing slowly and with greater care than usual, he unveiled his eyes and curiously sized up his surroundings. Despite being dim-lit, he saw everything — and it left him awestruck.

As far as his eyes could perceive, tomes were stacked in an endless library that seemed to go on forever. Rows upon rows of shelves were filled to the brim with material, albeit in utter disorder.

If the place had a name, it would surely start with chaos. Leather skin maps and paper parchments were stacked next to modern time books. Maps from various eras and locations he knew nothing of, and diagrams of such complexity it made no sense for them to linger near cradle stories.

After he curiously surveyed the first row of shelves, he came across something different. Starting with the second, clouds of inky black matter lingered like ooze around some of the books. The occasional drip spread its corrosion on to the next tomes, wasting whatever material was not yet consumed.

Curiously reaching for a thick tome as if to save it from the darkness, he was just about to open it when a voice startled him from behind.

“You’re finally here. We can now be complete.”