Dusky.
Moonlight waves covered the entire city.
The cold night was filled with lamps casting dim light.
The raw smear of poverty hollowed and emptied the city of iron gates.
Streets and narrow corners of the city lay empty and hollow, the smell of incense clinging to the air, drifting through silent alleys and corners.
And the loud noise of church bells
ringing, loud.
In a narrow corner, a small store labeled Cafe stood. Beneath it lay an underground layer.
Inside, the corridor stretched long like a maze. At the far end, silence clung to the wooden walls of the building. An old lamp was placed beside a door.
Inside, a table lay at the far end of the room.
The smell of blood and needles lingered throughout the air.
On top of the table, a young man with fair skin lay lifeless.
Dark hair spread across the surface, his body marked with a strange symbol
a tattoo‑like ink clinging to his flesh, raw and half‑healed, as if waiting to merge fully with his body.
At the left side of the room stood a strange figure,
his voice filled with intrigue and wisdom.
A voice of an old man spoke, covering the entire space of the room.
"It is not hard for me to carry a body.
At my age, why didn't you call someone else, Blackwell?"
Blackwell slightly raised his head. Without saying anything, he looked at the old man, then turned away, placing both hands into his pockets. He stepped closer to the body, staring at the symbol.
"As old as you might seem," he said out loud, "you are the holy one I could come to, and the only doctor I know in Iron Gate who deals with supernatural bullshit."
The old man looked at him and smiled slightly without saying anything. He walked closer, standing near the body.
Then he said, "There is only one problem here.
He is not dead."
"Blackwell…
But why is he not awake yet?"
The old man looked at the body, then raised his head, shifting his eyes to the corner.
Before speaking, his voice grew slow and shaky.
"This is the curse of a dying god.
This poor boy is now a vessel."
Blackwell was surprised, though no emotion showed on his face. He looked at the old man and said,
"I thought this was a deal with dying gods… this is more serious than I thought."
Before another word could be spoken, the doors of the room were pushed open wide.
It was Elena.
She walked in with courage, then turned her head slightly toward the old man.
"Old man Samuel Brooks… how long has it been?"
Then she turned to Blackwell, shifting her gaze away.
She walked past him straight to the body and placed her hand on top of the lifeless chest.
"This is a tattoo for a vessel.
The pathway of this young man is already sealed. The only help we can give him now is to find a way to break the curse… or kill him right here and now."
Samuel Brooks looked at her and said,
"It seems you have not changed—killing a young man who mistakenly got himself involved in this nonsense.
Have you even reported this to the High Court?"
Both of them looked at the old man and shook their heads.
Blackwell removed his hands from his pockets and took out a cigarette and a lighter. He placed the cigarette between his lips, lit it slowly, then returned the lighter to his pocket.
He rubbed his head, showing no reaction, then turned away and began to walk.
"If the young man wakes up," he said, "do not tell him anything. Just leave him and let him go home."
Elena looked at him, not surprised.
"As ever, always the same," she said softly. "Some people never change. Maybe you are one of them, Blackwell."
A small smile formed on her face.
She turned away and walked with him. Both of them left the room without another word.
The old man watched them as they left, then shook his head.
"How good it is to be young again…"
He turned back toward the body.
"Lily, come out. They are gone. You can take the body to the main building."
A young girl stepped out from the corner of the room, long dark hair falling over her face. Fear and shyness clung to her.
Her voice shook as she spoke.
"Fa… fa… fa… Father…"
The old man looked at her.
"Lily, you are not a child anymore. Learn how to control yourself. Why can you stand in front of customers every day in the café without complaint, but not here?"
Lily looked at him and spoke softly, her voice trembling.
"Those people… they do not look intimidating."
Then she moved forward and began pushing the body away.