Paladins in white and blue heavy armor moved through the village, their eyes barely visible through their visors, dragging mangled corpses across the dirt without so much as a flinch. No revulsion. Just the mechanical efficiency of men who had done this a hundred times before.
Standing apart from them, bracing himself against the cold wind blowing in from the ocean, was Light. The salt stung his nostrils with every breath — sharp and pungent, almost enough to make him sneeze — but he kept his expression blank. Watching.
Even though he was wincing, the darkness and the smell in the air had less to do with it than the… twisted young woman beside him. Faith kept humming a sacred church hymn, tapping her feet to the rhythm, swaying slightly as if she were at a festival rather than surrounded by the dead.
Light's jaw tightened.
