There’s a job for me? Elliot looked at Bill, his brow furrowed and his eyebrows raised. “Given that the woman is dead, you should try to use your ability. But hurry; we don’t know how long her soul has been absent. It may have already fled.” With a light slap on the shoulder, Bill fixed his gaze, filled with resolve, on a coat rack and retrieved a simple black cloak. “Elton and William, you’ll come with Elliot and me. Elisia and Chris, you stay here and ensure everything runs smoothly. If another job comes in, speak to them as usual and wrap things up if we’re not back in time, or even if you decide to take a job yourself!” With nods all around, Elliot sighed inwardly as a blow landed on his back. “No dawdling, Red.” He watched Elton grin and Chris walk past him with a serious expression. They moved swiftly toward the open black door, disappearing into the gradually fading blue fog.

...

Along Ost Street, the three youthful men followed the slightly older and more worn Bill. “It should be around here,” Bill’s rough voice was carried away by the stronger wind. My poor hair; I just got it looking nice again today… Elliot lamented internally as he followed Bill’s hand pointing toward a larger house typical of the area. “Now, this is quite a residence. Spacious, with a large front yard, separated by a massive fence.” William admired the house, snapping his fingers against the black railings forming the fence. “Isn’t that Elitranian steel?” William’s eyes widened at the realization, mirrored by Elton. “So there were no rituals involved.” Elliot marveled at the size of the residence, far grander than any he had seen at Edwin's. The wind tugged at Elliot's hair as they finally stood before the large open door and stepped inside.

“There’s even more blue blood here,” William remarked, looking down at the bloodstains scattered across the wooden floor. They were smudged and trailing shoe prints leading outward, albeit fading. The deeper they ventured inside and followed the blood, the richer and more contrasting the blue became against the orange-brown floor. The nostrils of the men widened as they breathed in the scent of burnt flesh. Holding their noses, they moved through the increasingly abundant blood, which stained the luxurious décor, filled with bookshelves and varied patterned furniture. The house was two stories, with a spiraling staircase to one side and an interior balcony from which one could look up or down.

As beautiful as the house appeared, the view in the living room was far more disturbing. A shiver ran down Elliot’s spine, but he didn’t turn away, nor did the other three standing beside him. By now, he had witnessed things far worse. In the warming glow of the fireplace, set against a massive orange wooden floor, and cushy soft cushions on the sofa, lay the corpse of a woman. She was half black and half white, her head and shoulders charred. The blue blood pooling around her created a stark contrast against the chill of her form. Beneath her swollen, white torso lay a newborn, barely developed and still attached by the umbilical cord. Goosebumps rippled across Elliot as he finally turned away. Dark yellow-green, nearly the hue of vomit, coursed through his fingers, which he held before his mouth.

As Elliot gagged, the others gazed down at the cold, dark blue blood. Their mouths twitched. Bill’s voice rose above the silence. “Goddess of Death, grant this poor soul, who met her fate without protection, a splendid afterlife…” After a brief pause of mere seconds, Bill added, “Elliot, if you want to find the one who did this to her, you need to come here at once.” Though Bill did not shout, the seriousness in his cold eyes and booming voice echoed throughout the house. His tone softened but remained as gravelly and deep as before. As Elliot wiped the bile from his mouth and approached, Bill continued, “When you use one of your blood abilities, you don’t need to perform a ritual; you don’t have to recite anything in German to harness the power of the gods.” That was German? Elliot looked back in confusion, his eyes slightly widened, but he kept listening.

“All you need to do is place your hand on the woman’s corpse and focus on how you want to use your power. In your case, just visualize the moment of her death.” Swallowing hard, Elliot walked toward the woman, wiping his soiled hand on his tattered trousers. As his palm made contact with the woman’s arm, goosebumps shot up his body. What is this? Suddenly, he felt a tingling sensation radiating from his hand. With a quivering mouth and a twisted expression, the goosebumps crawled up his neck. It felt like two stoppers rubbing against each other, but with one difference: Elliot had an overwhelming urge to plunge his hand into her body on a psychic level, as if he were pushing through a thick, viscous substance. He looked at his hand, firmly planted on the corpse’s arm.

Shiiing!

Elliot winced as a jolt ran through his senses. Before him, the world swayed like a ship in the midst of a storm. The tempest approached, bringing an unrelenting darkness with it. Everything faded; his eyes fluttered as sweat poured from him. Struggling to maintain his footing in the crime scene, he staggered until his legs finally gave way. In the blink of an eye, Elliot collapsed, the last thing he saw being the flickering light of candles on a side table.

…

Colors flickered between black, blue, and red in a ceaseless dance. Elliot found himself again in the crime scene, yet the bloodied and slightly charred corpse of the woman was nowhere to be seen. Am I now inside the body of the deceased? He touched his brow, feeling the movement of the person he inhabited. In the reflection of a glass window, he saw her: the long, dark brown hair, nearly black, cascading over her shoulders. She was dressed in a flowing, wide skirt and a loose blouse, as white as her skin. She looked like an angel, a stark contrast to her future self. As she gently stroked her rounded belly, humming a soft tune, she slowly stood up.

"My sweet little boy, you will grow strong. Strong like a god, my darling," she murmured with a charming smile, continuing to caress her abdomen. Her gaze shifted from her belly to a wardrobe, but suddenly, her eyes widened as they met two glowing violet orbs. In an instant, she screamed, recoiling, and pricked her finger, yellow blood oozing from the wound.

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"Who are you?" Her expression turned dark, laced with caution and confusion. She stood tense, her back hunched, supporting her protruding belly with her uninjured hand. While her voice trembled with urgency, the deep, calm voice of the figure with violet eyes and raven-black hair resonated.

"I am no one, but you are dead."

The woman looked down, lost in thought as cold sweat dripped from her forehead and cheeks. Meanwhile, Elliot felt himself retreating far away within her body, not by choice, but because he was being forcibly suppressed. He sensed an immense pressure bearing down on him, not physically but internally, as if his soul was being instinctively pushed away, desperate to flee but unable to escape.

The woman glared bitterly at the floor, already stained with her yellow blood, and struck the ground with her palm, about two meters away from the figure in black. As she slapped the floor, drawing a small pattern, she spoke a spell in German, her other hand, which had previously supported her belly, aimed at the man in black as if she were a Jedi from Star Wars.

"God of the sun, grant me the power to cleanse this evil that is damned!"

As the dark-haired woman in white traced a medium-sized symbol, resembling an eye without a pupil or iris, her eyes widened. She clenched her teeth, drawing a circle before her chest with both hands. Despite all her preparations, the man in black remained unmoved.

"Why can’t I wield my power?!" the woman screamed in hysteria, while the man in black laughed.

"How amusing it is to witness your futile attempts." He chuckled derisively until he snapped his fingers. "There, you may now interact with the gods again."

In an instant, a colossal surge of energy erupted—a blinding white orb that threatened to blind anyone who gazed upon it. Yet, Elliot remained unscathed; he watched, grimacing, but his vision remained clear. The energy beam was immense, hotter than lava and more forceful than a high-pressure washer. But all it revealed was the sight of a well-groomed man brushing dirt off his shoulder.

"Was that all the false gods are capable of?" the man in black mocked, but soon after, his gaze turned cold, locking onto the woman's eyes. Damn it, a shiver coursed down Elliot's spine as he felt the man's penetrating stare into the woman's very being.

All that followed was the man in black approaching her, and consequently, Elliot. The man with the glowing violet eyes took two strides, positioning himself before the trembling woman, who instinctively recoiled. In a panic, she cried out, her voice drenched in sweat, "Go away! I told you to leave! Leave my child alone!"

Her voice became high-pitched and raspy, yet she fell silent when the man in black snapped his fingers again. "Your voice is unbearable."

The woman, with her face turning blue, managed only a muffled sound as the veins in her neck and temples bulged. Like her, Elliot was frozen; the man with violet eyes stared coldly into hers. With a melancholic gaze, the dark-haired man snapped his fingers once more.

As he did, it was not yellow blood that dripped from her finger but blue. With quivering lips and eyes, the woman made desperate attempts to move, yet the man now stood only a few feet away from her. The man with the glowing violet eyes snapped his fingers three times, finally appearing directly in front of her.

The woman gasped, her face still turning blue, until her eyes bulged from their sockets. It was akin to the impact of two raw eggs, but with far more fluid spilling forth, all blue. The woman screamed, though her mouth was shut, rendering the sound akin to a scream muffled by a pillow. But it wasn’t only the woman suffering; Elliot, too, screamed, his body trembling and cold sweat pouring from him.

Why can’t I see anything? Elliot screamed inwardly, feeling his face inundated with a thick, warm substance. A metallic taste filled his mouth as he screamed in vain into the darkness. He struggled to regain control over his eyes, but like the woman, he found himself completely immobilized. He stood frozen like ice, blood flowing like a river from his hollow eyes.

In utter darkness, he saw nothing. The only sound that pierced the silence was the sharp, echoing snap of fingers every few seconds, accompanied by Elliot’s own muffled screams, similar to those of the woman. A torrent of saliva, mingled with blood, pooled in his mouth, gradually spilling over his lips. Elliot gasped, feeling the urge to recoil and bend over, yet like the woman, he remained upright, utterly immobilized.

Argh! My stomach, my cursed stomach! What the hell is happening? Tears streamed from his eyes, invisible and merging with his blood. With each snap of the violet-eyed man’s fingers, the woman’s suffering intensified. First, it was her eyes, followed by her belly, which burst open. Elliot, trapped within her, felt as if he too were being pierced, over and over again.

Once more, the man in black snapped his fingers, causing the woman to scream into the silence, her mouth closed tightly as if stifled by a pillow. Even her tears mingled with her royal blue blood. Without a touch, she was hurled into a vortex of crimson flames that danced with red, orange, and yellow hues. Her dark brown hair ignited first, followed by the sizzling of her skin as it blistered. Her complexion reddened, and blisters crept across her face.

Again, a snap echoed in the air, and the woman, along with Elliot, cried out in vain as pain seared through them. Their faces were grotesquely contorted, burning under the relentless heat. The stench of charred flesh filled the room, yet the man in black remained impassive, his gaze cool and unyielding, unwavering throughout the torment.

It felt as though an eternity passed, yet the agony of the flames began to fade, becoming strangely soothing—a release, as if it were the hand of God. It will end... Elliot murmured internally, Not much longer...

Finally, the woman and Elliot heard another snap. The man in black spoke, "Divine blood chooses… and not the other way around." His cold gaze fell upon the dismembered remains of the woman as he snapped his fingers once more, extinguishing the blazing flames.

All that remained were charred remnants from the shoulders down and the pristine white body enveloped in blue blood, cradling a lifeless infant, motionless and silent.

Then, the scene shifted, revealing a stocky man with a thick cigar hanging from his mouth. "Honey, today is a day for celebration! Let’s go on a journey—how about the Loean Islands?" Jack Maggerson called to his wife, but the only reply that echoed in the room was the snap of fingers and the vanishing of the man in black.

Horror flooded Jack Maggerson's eyes as he stared at the remnants of his wife. Tears streamed down his face, and his breath came in frantic gasps as he reached out with trembling hands to the torn abdomen of his wife. Desperation gripped him as he attempted to push her intestines back inside. His fingers, stained with blue blood, shook as they traced the charred skin of his beloved, the beauty of her visage now lost.

Gone were the breath and pulse of the woman—and of Elliot as well.