Light. It flooded everything around Gabrielle for an instant as she could feel that unique pain once again, the waves of suffering pushing through each of her limbs without anything to stop them. For moments that felt eternal, all she could see was that stark white hell around her— but soon, images started to flow right back to her eyes. 

 

What she saw was just as confusing, though. An ungodly sound, the sounds of screams and howls echoing all around her made the whole world shake and tremble; an orange light escaped from that amber in the spire, pulsating with the same rhythm that shook her body to the core. Baraqiel was screaming, their body spasming out of control while both the Demiurge and Sister Marina observed attentively.

 

What were they waiting for…?

 

The Rune… they want us to find another Rune…

 

That conclusion could barely be heard in Gabrielle’s mind among the pain, the screams and the shaking of her body. A Rune… soon, she would see it, right? With that pain and suffering it was sure to come, right…?

 

No…

 

Something deep inside Gabrielle knew that the machine had nothing to do with it, it was useless. Just a desperate attempt by a man who didn’t want to admit he didn’t know a thing about what he was looking for. 

 

Everything felt so cold, so distant… her body didn’t even hurt anymore, nothing did. Gabrielle couldn’t even feel her own breathing for a moment…

 

And then, something connected.

 

The rune… she knew it now, she knew the shape! Maybe…

 

“Marina, bring a quill! The blank is reacting!”

 

Gabrielle’s hand desperately tapped the chair she was tied to, trying to edge the shape into the cold rock, but her fingers were too soft to even dent it. Curious as to what she was doing, the Sister shoved a quill onto that tapping hand, and then held paper close.

 

“Here, Gabi! Right here! You’re trying to tell me something, yes!? What is it!? What is that you see!?”

 

All my life he ignores me… now he wants to listen!?

 

She would never show the rune to him… but, then where to edge that form. She tapped the chair with the quill, but her body moved too erratically  to mark it in the stone.

 

Damn this thing! Damn this chair!

 

In a moment of overwhelming anger, Gabrielle pulled her arm upwards while biting down her own teeth. To her surprise, her strength was enough to throw away the flimsy piece of leather keeping the arm down.

 

“Oh my saints! Restrain her!”

 

Sister Marina dared not to touch the girl as electricity ran through her body. She only stared, in awe, as the girl jammed that quill onto her own arm.

 

I need to feel the Rune! See it inside of me!

 

Understanding things a maybe a bit too literally, the girl itched the first lines onto her own skin, wincing with newfound pain. She didn’t have enough control of her body to be delicate about it.

 

The light was so strong, Gabrielle couldn’t even notice her own determination flaring deep inside of her heart. Forms and ideas trying to push their way, inspire her… But no, she could only focus on the shape she already knew, on the rune, on the knowledge Baraqiel had trusted in her.

 

Two lines, converging into one… and then being cut in half by a single, determined phrase.

 

“...er…ag…n…”

 

Sparks of a flame would shine in the depths of Gabrielle’s soul. A pyre fighting for its life, trying with all of its energy to blaze anew.

 

A single crack appeared on the amber core of the machinery. The Demiurge panicked.

 

“Marina, what is she saying!?”

 

“Nev…er… gain…!”

 

Air felt like burning water when she tried to speak, and she was barely able to breathe at any moment, but she felt like there was something to be said. Something she couldn’t stop anymore.

 

The pyre in her heart exploded, as the words finally came out:

 

“NEVER AGAIN!”

 

As the amber crystal burst into pieces in an instant, and light once more consumed it all…

 

The Demiurge stood in the middle of a melting room, feeling the heat burning his skin, his clothes, his whole being. And before it all ended, and darkness took over his entire world for one last time, all he could think was a simple phrase.

 

“What have I done.”

 

—

 

Alejandra could barely find cover when the whole room exploded. She saw it all from the very entrance to it all, watching how white lightning shot straight through the hole in the room’s wall and upwards into the heavens, with such force that it pushed the poor woman right onto the mud and her mind right into darkness.

 

When lights returned to the confused nun’s eyes, Alejandra carefully sat right up. It was raining, and the whole world felt unnaturally quiet. For a moment she was a peace, her body free of all tensions and her mind free of all fears, just being one with the strange stillness of Jericho right then… this, of course, was short-lived. Memories of where she was and what she was doing hit her like a cart, forcing Ale to stand up once again and get her bearings in order.

 

“Gabi!? Gabrielle!?”

 

The darkness inside of the chapel once again felt foreboding, like the insides of a wolf’s maw waiting for its next prey. In her rush, Alejandra had completely forgotten about getting a torch, but now it was not the time to worry about such minutia. 

 

As she walked deeper in, stepping on burnt pieces of wood and stone, Alejandra could feel the stench of a burnt-up body growing stronger and more fetid with each step. She knew this smell well, it was the same smell the poor children had when Enrico got through with them… but this one was different, it felt even stronger. Rancid. The woman had to cover her nose as she ventured into the room with the cages.

 

And there, lit by the light of a dying candle, she saw eleven malnourished children clinging to each other in fear, all trying to keep as much distance as they could from what could only be described as a blob of charred meat.

 

“Dear Saints…” Alejandra covered her mouth for a second, before shaking her head and trying to look around. There were no signs of Gabrielle in the room… nor Baraqiel, now that the woman could see it. 

 

But sadly, she didn’t have time to worry about them. Ale’s first instinct was to carefully lower her voice and keep her hands on sight, as to not scare the children that were there.

 

“Are you okay? Oh my gosh, you are trembling…”

 

“Do… do you work with the Demiurge…?” One of the children dared ask, probably preparing to run at a positive answer.

 

“No, no no. Never.” Alejandra shook her head emphatically. “Never ever… look, we don’t have much time, we need to get out of here now.”

 

The woman beckoned the children, waiting for them to come on their own accord before making any motions— she didn’t expect them to trust her immediately, at all. As soon as she gave them a chance, the children practically jumped at her to cling to the woman’s dress, desperate for warmth and a feeling of safety.

 

Alejandra felt her heartbreak, just looking at the faces of suffering that the wicked Demiurge had left in his wake. 

“Don’t worry, everything will be all right now… come, follow me. We have to leave before it’s too late.”

 

And so, twelve figures silently walked out of the smoking, pestilent room, finally leaving behind a life of suffering and abandonment. The future was uncertain for all of them, but in the middle of the dark they chose to cling to a hope: the chance for a better life, as far away from that Chapel as they could.