Oh-thirty-three, forty-seven, and thirty-nine stared down from the cathedral scaffolding. oh-one stood, seemingly impassive, to the side. But in spite of her facade, there was an emotion on her face, too:

Disgust.

There were no demons present in the world. Not anymore, if they had ever been more than fiction at all. What the priests had called ‘sacred rituals’ had been nothing more than a well-placed lie.

They stood in the middle of the cathedral, dancing around a stone altar. The corpse of a girl - bound, gagged, and bled dry - lay atop. An array of militiamen watched the process seated atop a series of arched stone benches, chanting and swaying in rhythm to the ritual.

It was disgusting.

The priests were in a mad frenzy, whispering arcane and occultish words that seemed more like fanatic delusion than any true divine or demonic inspiration. It just seemed so obvious to oh-thirty- three - how could anyone worship such nonsense? It didn’t make sense. It didn’t-

And when she became rank ten or above, oh-thirty-three realized, she, too, would have to grow more involved with horrendous deeds such as the one occurring at that very moment below; and never once could she show any irreverence, ‘lest she wanted to end up like that girl atop the altar.

A quick glance at oh-thirty-nine and forty-seven told oh-thirty- three all that she needed to know. They were equally as disturbed.

Others might have been enraptured, having been fed scripture daily from birth. But not them three. They were different.

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They wanted freedom.

Oh-one turned to them. With her hood pulled down, oh-thirty-three could see her rouge-brown hair with unprecedented clarity.

“It’s terrible, isn’t it?” she said, quietly. “What they do here. I can’t even tell if the priests genuinely believe in what they preach - but even if it is, does it matter?”

Oh-thirty-three blinked. “What do you mean, sister?”

Oh-one gestured to the ritual below. “All this, I mean. There is no blessing. No tangible benefit. We kill ourselves over and over, fighting those fools in the brass cities, and for what? Death? Sacrifice? I don’t see any demons here. There is no cause because it doesn’t or no longer exists.”

The three of them quivered; this was blasphemy of the highest order. If found out, not even oh-one’s legendary status could save them. They would be worse than dead.

They’d end up like that girl on the altar, oh-thirty-three thought.

But instead of running, screaming foul, they only drew nearer.

“There are no gods. There is no Demon King,” oh-one said. “Whomever they once were, they left our world long ago. The cult treads a path created by a greater entity that left our plane of existence long ago.”

Oh-thirty-three blinked. “What?”

“The truth is that there is no truth to pursue. There is no greater path we must set ourselves on,” she said. “We are part of the cult of Zabaniya. We, as Sisters, represent his Seven Sisters. Holy virgins. But I reject that label.”

Oh-one stood, cloak billowing. She smiled - a genuine thing - and extended her hand to oh-thirty-three. It was strangely captivating.

“I want to break free from this cycle,” on-one said. “I tire of violence. I tire of this needless cycle of wroth and wrath.”

Their eyes widened.

“Will you join me?”