(A/N):
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For a long moment,
The room was silent —
"...."
"...."
"...."
The only sound was the faint hum of the hotel air conditioner and Debbi's uneven breathing.
Then slowly… something shifted in her expression.
Fear drained away.
Grief settled.
And in its place… determination ignited.
She wiped her tears with the back of her hand,
Straightened her spine, and looked at Jojo.
"Sir…"
Her voice was still trembling,
But her eyes were resolute.
"I've made my choice."
Caroline and Gayathri both turned toward her.Dr. Richard held his breath.
"...."
Debbi stepped forward.
"If I want to free my husband… I can't stay helpless."
Her fists clenched.
"I want to fight. Learn. Prepare."
She exhaled sharply,
Her voice gaining strength:
"I want to join DMC."
Jojo held her gaze —
Reading her intent, her burden.
"You understand what that means?"
He asked.
"There's no turning back.No normal life.No pretending the supernatural doesn't exist."
Debbi nodded instantly.
-Nod
"If joining DMC gives me even the smallest chance to save him in six years… then I will do anything."
Her voice cracked on the last word,
But her resolve didn't falter.
Jojo finally nodded.
-Nod
"Good,"
He said.
There was a hint of respect in his voice.
"Pack what you need. Clothes, documents, essentials."
He handed her another DMC card —
This one with a silver marking on the back.
"Be at Chennai International Airport in two hours.We're leaving for Italy."
Dr. Richard swallowed hard.
-Gulp
"Debbi… are you sure?"
She looked at him softly.
"I have to do this, Papa. Six years might sound long for others… but for me, it's all I have. If I sit still… I'll go insane."
Jojo spoke again, calm but absolute.
"You won't be alone. DMC will train you — mentally, physically, magically if you have talent. By the time the six years are up… you will be ready."
Debbi nodded gratefully.
-Nod
"Thank you… Sir."
Jojo simply turned toward the door.
"Go. Pack fast. And don't be late."
Debbi grabbed her bag and ran out with her father in law, determination blazing in her eyes.
Gayathri looked at Jojo and chuckled softly.
-Chuckle
"You're building quite an army, aren't you?"
Jojo shrugged.
"Not an army,"
He said.
"Just gathering the pieces needed to expand DMC to other places."
Caroline smirked.
-Smirk
"And now… Italy?"
Jojo cracked his knuckles.
-Crack
"No matter what we need to catch that idiot."
Two Hours Later...
Chennai International Airport...
The airport buzzed with late-evening travelers,
Luggage wheels rattling over polished floors,
Loudspeakers announcing flights in Tamil, English, and Hindi.
But Jojo's group stood out —
Not by appearance, but by the heavy atmosphere around them.
Caroline leaned against a pillar with her arms crossed.
Inadu tapped her foot impatiently,
Gayathri, meanwhile, practically vibrated with excitement.
Jojo glanced at the entrance every few seconds.
Then—
Debbi appeared.
Hair tied back,
A backpack slung over her shoulder,
Determination etched into her tense face.
Dr. Richard was beside her, holding her hand with trembling fingers.
Debbi exhaled shakily when she saw the group.
-Sigh
"...."
Gayathri smiled warmly.
"Ah, there she is."
Jojo stepped forward.
"Got everything?"
Debbi nodded, clutching her passport.
-Nod
"Yes."
She was trying to be brave,
But her eyes flicked everywhere —
The crowd, the lights, the massive aircraft through the glass —
Overwhelmed and scared.
Jojo's voice cut through her anxiety, steady and calm:
"You're not going alone anymore. You're with us now."
Debbi nodded, swallowing hard.
-Nod
Gayathri chimed in with a cheerful slap on Debbi's shoulder.
"Relax. First time leaving India, right? You'll do fine. Just think of it as… leveling up."
Debbi gave a nervous smile.
"...."
Jojo checked the time.
"Let's go. Boarding starts now."
They handed over their passports and boarding passes —
All booked through Sara, Jojo's hyper-efficient A.I. assistant.
The officer scanned them quickly.
"Have a safe flight, sir."
Debbi hesitated just before the boarding tunnel,
Gripping her strap tighter.
Caroline noticed.
She stepped beside her.
"It's normal to be scared,"
She said gently.
"Your world just turned upside down. But trust me — you're taking the right step."
Debbi whispered.
"I… hope so."
Inadu's voice floated from the tunnel ahead.
"You will be stronger than the fear. That's what matters."
Debbi looked between them —
The vampire, the witch, the Ghost Rider, and the Indian origin witch Gayathri —
And took a deep breath.
"...."
Then she stepped inside.
They settled into a row —
Jojo at the aisle, Inadu next to him, then Debbi and Gayathri beside the window.
Debbi hugged her backpack.
Gayathri meanwhile pressed her face against the window like an excited child.
"Wow… Italy. This is going to be fun!"
Jojo smirked.
-Smirk
"Soon. I'm expanding. I will open a branch here."
Caroline sat across the aisle, glancing at Debbi.
"You'll get used to this life,"
She said kindly.
A few seats behind them, an elderly couple stared —
"...."
"...."
Curious about the odd-looking group with unusual energy.
As the plane began to taxi...
Debbi's fingers trembled again.
"...."
Jojo leaned over slightly.
"You can still back out,"
He said quietly.
Debbi shook her head instantly.
"No. I've been powerless for too long. Not anymore."
Jojo nodded once.
-Nod
"...."
The engines roared.
The plane lifted into the sky.
Debbi looked out of the window —
The lights of Chennai shrinking beneath the clouds.
And the flight soared into the night.
After Several Hours...
Italy...
Midnight at Fiumicino Airport...
The wind howled across the multi-level parking structure as Father Sal Tedeschi stepped out of the airport,
His steps fast, tense, and uneven.
He hurried to the far corner where his old dark-grey Mercedes was parked.
With trembling hands he unlocked it, slid inside, and shut the door with a sharp slam.
The engine roared to life.
-VROOMMM
He drove.
He drove like a man possessed —
Eyes wild, rosary beads wrapped so tight around his fingers they cut into his skin.
The Convent of Santa Aurelia –
1:47 AM
The massive stone convent loomed under the moonlight —
Ancient, cold, and ominously still.
Father Sal parked the Mercedes in its secluded clergy area, stepped out,
And hurried through the rear chapel corridor into his private office.
The air was stale.
"...."
The candles he left burning before leaving for India had melted all the way down.
But something new was on his desk.
A single envelope.
Pure white
Wax-sealed
Stamped with the crest of the Vatican's "Order of Blessed Mothers."
His heartbeat quickened.
"...."
He broke the seal.
Pulled out the letter.
His breath hitched.
An admission approval.
A young woman requesting entry into the convent.
CECILIA AMATO
Accompanying documents were clipped beneath:
[Age: 22
Background: orphaned, raised in secular foster care
Incident report: drowned at age 7 — clinically dead for 5 minutes before miraculous revival
Post-incident anomaly: persistent visions she claimed were "messages from God"
Psychiatric evaluations: inconclusive]
Father Sal's hand trembled,
His eyes widening with predatory hope.
"...."
He whispered.
"…dead for five minutes… returned."
A slow, excited breath left him.
"This is not coincidence."
He lifted the document closer to the candlelight.
"She may be the chosen vessel."
His grin widened —
-Grin
Thin, cracked, unholy.
"Finally… the one worthy to carry His rebirth."
He pressed the paper reverently to his forehead and murmured.
"Benedictus sit Rex Caecus…"(Blessed be the Blind King…)
His voice shifted into a low, fervent rasp.
"She survived death. Her womb… may accept the holy blood."
He placed the documents neatly on his desk, fingers tapping feverishly.
Then he looked up at the crucifix over the wall.
For a moment, his smile faded.
"...."
His eyes, blackened with ambition, narrowed.
-Frown
"Forgive me,"
He whispered to the figure of Christ.
"But your time has came to born again and guide us."
He turned away.
And whispered.
"The King rises."
Early Morning...
The ancient convent was bathed in soft golden sunlight,
Its stone walls glowing warmly beneath the rising sun.
A long black car rolled through the iron gates.
It stopped before the courtyard fountain.
The engine cut off.
The back door opened.
Cecilia stepped out.
"...."
Young, bright-eyed, dressed already in a novice nun's habit, clutching a small suitcase.
Her breath caught slightly —
The convent looked exactly like the pictures she'd dreamed about for years.
"Finally,"
She whispered to herself, smiling softly,
"I'm home."
She moved through the courtyard archway and into the main hallway.
Nuns were bustling everywhere —
Some carrying laundry baskets, others arranging candles, some moving in silent prayer.
A few glanced at the new arrival with polite curiosity.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Mother Superior
An elderly nun stepped forward, hands folded, posture straight and dignified.
Her voice was gentle, warm —
But spoken in smooth Italian.
"Sei bella come un angelo, figlia mia…"("You look beautiful like an angel, my child…")
Cecilia blinked —
"...."
She didn't understand a word.
Before she could respond,
Another nun approached quickly from behind the Mother Superior.
Sister Isabelle – The Mediator
Young, but sharper-eyed, with an aura of authority.
She folded her hands politely.
"Sister Cecilia,"
Isabelle translated kindly,
"Mother Superior says you look like an angel."
Cecilia smiled nervously.
"Please thank her for me."
Isabelle relayed the words.
Mother Superior nodded warmly and moved away to attend to other matters.
-Nod
Isabelle motioned for Cecilia to follow.
"...."
"...."
They walked through.
The stone hallways with arching ceilings,
The worn wooden floors polished by years of footsteps,
Prayer rooms filled with flickering candles,
The old infirmary.
The library lined with scripture and texts.
The inner cloister where roses bloomed despite the cold.
Cecilia looked around with awe —
Absorbing everything like it was sacred.
"This place is…"
She whispered, smiling,
"beautiful."
Isabelle nodded, though her expression remained unreadable.
-Nod
Finally, they reached a small quiet corridor.
"This will be your room,"
Isabelle said.
A simple bed.
A desk.
A cross on the wall.
A soft morning breeze drifting through the open window.
"...."
Cecilia felt her heart swell with quiet happiness.
Just as Cecilia placed her suitcase on the bed,
Isabelle lingered in the doorway, watching her closely —
Almost… evaluating her.
"...."
Her voice lowered.
"Cecilia,"
She said quietly,
"Being a nun is not as romantic as you imagine."
Cecilia paused, confused.
Isabelle stepped inside, closing the door behind her.
"You're young,"
Isabelle continued.
"Very young. And very new to this life."
She eyed the novice with the seriousness of someone who'd seen too much.
"This place… can be overwhelming. Once you take your vows, you give away your freedom. There is no turning back."
Cecilia swallowed.
-Gulp
"I understand,"
She said softly.
"I've wanted this my whole life."
Isabelle's gaze didn't soften.
"Just… think carefully,"
She warned.
"This convent expects obedience. Absolute obedience."
Her tone held something else too —
Something unsaid.
Something like a warning she wished she could state openly… but couldn't.
Cecilia nodded, forcing a small smile.
-Nod
"I'll do my best, Sister Isabelle."
For a moment, Isabelle's stern mask cracked —
She sighed.
-Sigh
"I hope your best will be enough."
She turned and left.
Leaving Cecilia alone in the quiet room…
With sunlight shining through the window…
And a slow, creeping feeling that this convent was hiding secrets far darker than she imagined.
Evening...
The Prayer Hall of Santa Aurelia...
The sun had fully set,
Leaving only the warm golden glow of hundreds of candles to light the ancient prayer hall.
Cecilia, dressed in her new novice habit,
Stepped inside quietly as instructed by Sister Isabelle.
Rows of nuns and sisters knelt in disciplined silence.
"...."
"...."
"...."
The air was thick with incense… and expectation.
At the far end of the hall stood two men:
Cardinal Franco Merola —
Elderly, intimidating, dressed in crimson vestments.
Father Sal —
Standing just a little behind the cardinal, hands folded, eyes locked on Cecilia.
Even from across the room, his stare held a strange intensity…
Like he was assessing her value.
"...."
Sister Isabelle guided Cecilia to the center aisle.
The moment she stepped forward,
The hall filled with the soft chorus of Latin hymns, voices layered and haunting.
Candles flickered as though reacting.
Cecilia knelt where instructed —
Directly before the Cardinal.
Her heart thumped nervously,
But her face remained pure, hopeful.
Cardinal Merola raised his hands.
"Figlia, ti presenti oggi come serva devota di Dio?"("Daughter, do you present yourself today as a devoted servant of God?")
Father Sal translated quietly beside him.
Cecilia nodded firmly.
-Nod
"Yes. With all my heart."
Her voice echoed through the silent chamber.
The cardinal continued the rite with ceremonial weight.
Every vow.
Every word.
Cecilia accepted sincerely —
Her eyes bright with devotion.
Father Sal watched her every movement… memorizing her.
Studying her.
The other nuns exchanged soft whispers —
Impressed by her sincerity.
Finally came the last step.
Cardinal Merola lifted his right hand… revealing a ring engraved with the church's seal.
He extended it forward.
"Bacia l'anello, figlia."("Kiss the ring, daughter.")
A simple gesture of loyalty…
But Cecilia froze.
"...."
Her lips parted slightly.
Her brows furrowed.
-Frown
Something about it felt unnatural.
Wrong.
The hall grew still.
The nuns began to shift, confused, murmuring softly.
Why wasn't she completing the ritual?
Sister Isabelle subtly shook her head —
Urging her to just do it.
Father Sal's eyes sharpened, and his posture stiffened.
"...."
Cardinal Merola's expression tightened with disapproval.
Cecilia swallowed.
-Gulp
Every eye in the hall was on her.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Whispers rippled like cold wind.
"Why is she hesitating?"
"Does she not accept the vow?"
"Is she defying the church?"
Her heart pounded louder.
Heat flushed her cheeks.
"...."
Finally… unable to endure the accusatory stares…
Cecilia bowed her head.
Her lips pressed lightly against the cardinal's ring.
A soft metallic chill touched her mouth.
She flinched—
But it was done.
The cardinal nodded in satisfaction.
-Nod
Father Sal smiled faintly.
A strange smile.
Too pleased.
The choir resumed, louder now —
Almost celebratory.
Cecilia rose with the others,
But she felt a strange tremor inside her chest.
As though something had shifted the moment she kissed that ring.
As though the convent itself had accepted her…
And something else had too.
After the vow ceremony,
The nuns guided everyone to the refectory,
Where a modest celebration waited —
Warm bread, fruit, simple wine, and candles arranged neatly along long wooden tables.
Cecilia moved among the sisters shyly,
Offering small smiles as they welcomed her into their fold.
She felt light.
Proud.
She was finally one of them.
But someone was watching her… closely.
Father Sal.
He approached with slow, deliberate steps,
A gentle smile painted on his face, hands folded behind his back like a caring mentor.
"Sister Cecilia,"
He greeted softly,
"I wished to congratulate you personally."
She turned, her hands clasping nervously in front.
"Oh—thank you, Father. I'm grateful to be here."
His eyes scanned her expression, searching… studying.
"You handled the ceremony beautifully,"
He said, voice velvety and reassuring.
"Not every young woman possesses such devotion. Tell me—what inspired you to devote yourself completely to God?"
Cecilia brightened, innocence shining on her features.
"...."
"I lost my mother very young. And when I drowned as a child… I should have died. But someone—something—gave me life again. A second chance. I always believed that was God guiding me… giving me purpose."
Father Sal leaned forward slightly, intrigued.
"...."
"And you feel that purpose has led you here?"
He asked.
"Yes,"
She nodded earnestly.
-Nod
"I want to serve Him. To belong somewhere sacred. To help others. To be good."
Sal's smile widened —
But there was a gleam in his eyes.
Calculating.
"...."
"You have a rare heart,"
He murmured.
"Pure. Faithful. Unbroken. Such qualities are… extraordinarily important in our work here."
Cecilia blinked, not understanding.
"Our convent,"
He continued gently,
"fulfills a very special mission. One only those chosen by God can be part of."
"I-I'm honored,"
She said softly.
He reached out and touched her shoulder with feather-light pressure.
"Rest well tonight, sister. Tomorrow… your true journey begins."
A faint shiver ran down Cecilia's spine,
Though she didn't know why.
Father Sal excused himself, walking away with silent, measured steps.
"...."
But the moment he turned his back, his expression twisted—
A victorious smirk pulling at his lips.
-Smirk
He had found her.
The perfect vessel.
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(Author's POV)
(A/N): Guys I wanted to increase the verse by adding more movies from other industries too here.
This was a try. What you guys think about it.
With this approch I could add some really good movies here which is not form the hollywood.
Thanks for reading the chapter!
Please give a review and power stone!!!