The Exchange of Trust

At the edge of the darkness, they reached the car. Leonore took the child, her hands gentle as she guided him into the back seat. She looked at Elias and let out a soft, knowing laugh. "When was the last time you didn't involve me in your trouble, my pampered brother?"

She then turned her gaze to Jennifer, offering a polite nod. "Hello, Jennifer. I apologize for the trouble my annoying brother has caused you, but I’m sure his intellect has been somewhat useful at least."

Jennifer offered a tired but sincere smile. "Hello, Leonore. Don’t worry, he has been more than useful. He’s been essential."
"Good to hear," Leonore replied, starting the engine. "I'll see you later, dear."

Just before the car pulled away, the boy poked his head out of the window. "Uncle Elias!"
Elias leaned down. "Yes, my King?"
"Good luck," the boy whispered, his eyes still shimmering with remnants of fear. "But... aren't you coming with us? This place is so scary."
Elias gave him a rare, reassuring smirk. "I have to punish the people who treated my King so poorly first. Now go."

The Reflection in the Dark

As the car disappeared into the distance, Jennifer watched Elias. The way he spoke to the child, the way his voice softened around his sister—it was a side of him she hadn't fully grasped. "That was new," she remarked.

"What do you mean?" Elias asked, his mask of cold indifference sliding back into place.
"I don’t think I’ve ever heard you speak that much to anyone," Jennifer said. "Not even your sister. I think I understand now why your niece loves you so much. Your whole aura changes around them."

Elias looked at the empty road. "Children have no stake in this twisted world, Jennifer. They didn't choose to be here, and they certainly didn't choose the sins of their elders. This boy is a living example of that. There is much more at stake than just one life."

Jennifer walked behind him as they headed back to the laundry. In the silence, she whispered to herself, 'I wish you had been there back then, Elias. Maybe I wouldn't have lost my brother. Maybe I wouldn't have spent years in this agony.' She thought of the orphans she had treated for free, the joy in their eyes when they saw her. Perhaps her life hadn't been a complete waste after all.

The Logic of the Supernatural

At the rear entrance, they bumped into Alphonse, who looked like he had seen a ghost—which, in a way, he had. "Investigator! I saw you taking the boy out... but I just saw the guards with him inside. How are there two of them? What is happening?"

Elias didn't even slow his pace. "I noticed you lurking, Alphonse, but I didn't care. Listen carefully: we are playing with supernatural entities, so it is only logical that we use supernatural means. The thing with the guards isn't a child; it’s a fake. A decoy to keep the Founder occupied and the ritual moving. Now, get out of my sight. We have no more time for explanations."

Alphonse stood there, stunned, as Elias and Jennifer slipped back into the building.

The Arena of Mockery

They merged back into the crowd of "sub-humans." The term felt more accurate with every passing second. These people—dressed in silk and fine wool—were united only by a primal thirst for the slaughter. They viewed the child on the altar not as a soul, but as a transaction, a stepping stone toward their own vanity and power.

The atmosphere was toxic with their anticipation. They believed they were the masters of the world, the elite who could buy even the gods with blood. They had no idea what was coming for them. They didn't realize that while there is darkness in both the natural and supernatural worlds, there is also a light—a cold, vengeful light—carried by an investigator, a saint, and the spirits they had awakened.

The fools believed they were the strongest in the room. They were about to learn that the most dangerous thing in existence is a man who has nothing to lose and a promise to keep.