Does God Really Exist?
Tiny Bell and Lucia shuffled along toward the Lildar Church district, their cheeks bulging like a pair of hamsters. Red flags emblazoned with white symbols fluttered alongside a sudden influx of church members in white robes. The church area looked remarkably quiet and orderly on the surface.
"This place is surprisingly peaceful," Tiny Bell muttered, brushing crumbs off her hands after finishing her snack. Lucia mumbled back through a mouthful.
"Mmm— I dunno why they're protesting like that... but the Lildar Church has always emphasized harmony as a core tenet."
"Harmony, huh? With teachings like that, what they're doing now looks totally off. Doesn't feel like harmony at all."
Tiny Bell smirked, curling one corner of her mouth. Lucia jumped to defend it.
"B-but it's still a nice place, right?"
Lucia wanted Tiny Bell, Adolf, and Kelun to carry at least a few good memories of her hometown. Sure, the protests were disappointing, but she forced a bright smile anyway.
Tiny Bell picked up on Lucia's feelings and turned to scan the surroundings. The temple walls were adorned with intricate patterns, and a low chant of prayers echoed softly. People on the street exchanged greetings, sharing bread or pamphlets here and there. Tiny Bell was a little surprised at how idyllic it all seemed.
"Yeah. Kinda soothing, actually."
"Hehe—"
Hearing Lucia's laugh, Tiny Bell's gaze shifted to the armed militia patrolling the alleys like clockwork. Their movements were too organized and trained for mere guards. And those makeshift ground drones.
They let stuff like that roam free inside the barrier? Tiny Bell pictured Innocent Remar, the Rain Code barrier commander. His tone suggested he knew Brigadier General Jack William. Her first impression hadn't been bad, but doubts were piling up.
Tiny Bell activated her ability briefly. Her eyes flushed red, tracing every line across the buildings in an instant—past the armed forces, into the structures they came and went from. Plenty of gear and manpower.
"Way too many troops just to protect the church."
Lucia spotted Tiny Bell's glowing red eyes and clung tightly to her arm.
"Captain, you're not planning to fight, are you?"
"You think I'm some brawler? Just checking."
Tiny Bell deactivated it quickly. Even in Lumen Guard, defensive arms were allowed only for emergencies or barrier threats to ensure survival. She muttered low.
"Their armament level is over the top."
"Yeah... kinda scary."
The sight of such a structured militia freely patrolling the city heart gave Tiny Bell an unpleasant chill.
"Weird they don't pay much attention to outsiders like us. If ethnic tensions are the issue, shouldn't they be wary of non-locals near the church?"
"True, Captain. What if we teamed up with Harkens for a terror attack or something?"
Tiny Bell blinked blankly at Lucia's response.
"Never thought I'd hear that from you."
"Eek— Was it too much? I was just trying to impress you with some imagination..."
Tiny Bell snorted at Lucia's rambling. Once she calmed, Lucia scratched her head sheepishly and walked on with her. It was still quiet and serene—maybe because of the church nearby. Tiny Bell appreciated the subtle comfort.
After a bit, Lucia slowed, so Tiny Bell stopped. Lucia stared at a sign shaped like a tree: the orphanage. She tiptoed to peer over the fence. In the garden, kids kicked a ball around; one girl Lucia's age read to the younger ones.
Lucia sank into memories.
"...That orphanage."
Tiny Bell turned to her. Lucia continued evenly, though her eyes grew wistful.
"I stayed there briefly after my parents died... Hehe—"
She forced a smile, but Tiny Bell saw the loneliness.
"Know anyone there?"
"Yeah, this super pretty big sis visited a lot. Looking back, she was Harken, coming all the way here... so kind."
Lucia recalled the black bob-cut woman—always with a gentle smile, whipping up new foods from who-knows-where, nursing sick kids through the night.
"She was amazing."
"Probably not around anymore. No Harkens in sight."
Tiny Bell glanced around the Harken-free zone. Lucia looked regretful.
"Hehe, yeah. Wanted to brag about becoming a proxy to her. But I saw Mr. Mordan, at least!"
"Being a proxy isn't something to brag about..."
"It is impressive! Not many to tell, though. Gotta wait to tell Mom and Dad later."
Agh, foot in mouth. Tiny Bell grimaced slightly. The weird proxy condition: no guardians. She had Jack and Sophie despite no blood ties—a rare case.
"Uh... Lucia, sorry—"
"Ah! My bad, Captain! Let's get back to investigating!"
Sensing Lucia's forced cheer, Tiny Bell gently grasped her wrist, sliding from the linked arm. Holding hands felt too much still. It was her best effort.
"After the mission, let's find that big sis. I can help if I've got time."
Lucia blinked in surprise, then beamed.
"Hee— Are you comforting me, Captain?"
"No."
Tiny Bell grumbled curtly, standing there holding Lucia's wrist. The cool-headed captain grew cuter the longer you watched.
"Heeeng—"
Lucia hugged her impulsively, face melting with adoration. Tiny Bell yelped and squirmed.
"Eek!"
Lucia released her in a panic.
"S-sorry, Captain! I couldn't help it."
Tiny Bell felt awkwardly embarrassed.
"It's fine. But don't do that casually. I'm your superior."
She scolded softly, grumpily. Lucia scratched her head awkwardly, and Tiny Bell walked ahead.
After a hesitant pause, she added quietly.
"I'm glad you became a proxy."
The sincere words slipped out casually, like an afterthought. But Lucia's reaction was instant—light footsteps, and she linked arms again, face blooming.
"Let's head to the main church building!"
Lucia cheered brightly.
Meanwhile, inside the church's main hall, Cheisi Brown glided down the quiet corridor, nodding curtly to the greeting church members. Her neat red hair was pinned up impeccably. No longer in uniform, she wore pristine white vice-priestess robes. But her gaze remained as unwavering as ever.
She headed straight for the main sanctuary. The high priest, Raphael, lingered after the regular prayer service, slowly tidying the hall floor. Clad in white priestly robes, he clutched his prayer book out of habit.
Cheisi approached quietly.
"High Priest Raphael."
He looked up, a warm, time-worn smile on his face.
"Ah, Cheisi. Back already."
"I told you it was nothing. Just checking the situation."
"Situation? Such a harsh word, Cheisi."
Raphael gazed at her affectionately. Cheisi averted her eyes from his endless warmth.
"Force of habit. You know my military background."
"Haha, indeed."
Raphael gestured to a long wooden bench.
"Sit first. Your legs must ache."
Cheisi nodded and sat. Raphael settled carefully beside her. She glanced around before speaking softly.
"Proxies have arrived in Rain Code."
Raphael stroked the prayer book on his lap slowly. His eyes rested calmly on the statue of the Lildar goddess ahead.
"And rumors are flying that proxies will attack us. Utter nonsense."
Cheisi bristled. He spoke measuredly.
"This mess stems from someone twisting God's will."
"High Priest Raphael. If anything happens, I'll take responsibility. Ridiculous 'revelations' are circulating too—clearly targeting me."
"Cheisi, it'll be fine. It's all my fault."
At his self-reproach, Cheisi narrowed her eyes firmly.
"No. I was mistaken. Tricked by the management bureau again. Should've never trusted that bitch...!"
Raphael cut her off.
"The first revelation: 'In the wake of the great evil's sweep, a new proxy of the gods is born. But the gods have no chance left.'"
He recited dreamily, fiddling with the prayer book. Cheisi felt oddly calmed by his serene detachment. Even as the world nearly ended, barriers overflowed with the unlucky—he prayed more devoutly than anyone.
With outer churches gone, only this one remained inside. After his death, would prayers continue? As followers dwindled, would the god fade from memory? Was the god he believed in truly real?
That dream: a massive light, clear words. 'In the wake of the great evil's sweep, a new proxy of the gods is born. But to him, no chance remains.'
He couldn't fully interpret it. Initially, "gods' proxy" seemed like the bureau's proxies. But seeing the young ones—save the Grand Marshal and Jack—shocked him. Would a true god sacrifice lambs to save the world? Delusion from weakness?
He still loved the god, but doubt eroded him. When Cheisi returned broken from retirement, her grueling confession led to the second revelation that night.
'Through sacrifice, the world has advanced one step.'
A rainy summer night. Amid the downpour, Raphael first wanted to plead: if real, why such cryptic words?
Eyes closed, he told Cheisi.
"Cheisi, if there's fault, perhaps sharing the revelations with the faithful. A dream of mine—maybe it misled your judgment. My failing..."
Cheisi replied instantly.
"Don't talk like that, High Priest. That revelation was spot-on, in my eyes."
Raphael opened his eyes to her fierce gaze—red hair seeming aflame.
"Cheisi, naming you vice-priestess was for your salvation, not vengeance."
If true, God would grant her peace. She was a noble sacrifice.
"God knows my actions. If wrong, true revelation would come—not street lies. I hear nothing now."
The street rumor: 'Through the red-haired knight's sacrifice, all normalizes.' Everyone knew it wasn't from the church—absurd, aimed at all Bonnyaks via "red hair."
Raphael silent, Cheisi pressed.
"High Priest, the management bureau is dangerously compromised. You know what they did in Nantigar... the Grand Marshal...!!"
She bit her lip.
"To face those monsters, we need power matching theirs. Even if it means sacrifice—to protect more...!"
The priest shook his head sadly.
"If all draw blades, only wounds remain. Self-destruction is the path we must avoid."
He rose quietly.
"And... Cheisi. The rumors outside, and what you confirmed: proxies from Lumen Guard."
"Yes. That fake revelation, infiltrators of unknown origin—all military setup. Grand Marshal's doing."
Raphael knew her bias but prayed inwardly before replying.
"Then you've drawn his gaze, as desired."
Cheisi met his eyes.
"...At least an eyesore. Satisfying."
Her gaze raced to a dead end, crashing for relief. Raphael knew: ruin awaited.
Her confession revealed the Grand Marshal's atrocities, hushed up before Nantigar. Disappointing, but becoming monsters to fight them? Was she now using the church for her goals?
And pathetically, pitying her, ignoring the church's exploitation—did he deserve high priest?
Thoughts swirling, he rose wearily, praying silently for her salvation if God existed.
"Cheisi. Seek Freigel's help."
She flinched, head dropping. A welcome name—once-loved.
But now: he was human, capable of fear.
"He's a proxy like the Grand Marshal. Not brave enough to charge for me."
Once resented, disappointed—now somewhat understood. But too much time passed. Now enemies.
"Ah, Cheisi. Once paths diverge, they keep missing unless someone musters courage. To end misunderstanding, prove Freigel harmless."
As Raphael sighed deeply, hurried footsteps echoed from the entrance. The door flew open; a robed woman burst in, panting, lowering her hood. Black bob-cut, shadowed eyes—breath ragged with urgency.
Cheisi and Raphael turned. Black hair, but familiar face—no big reaction.
The orphanage helper. They'd thought her kind at first. But they knew: just waiting for her act to slip.
Raphael smiled faintly.
"What is it, Lin Kseszbet?"