The closet room was beginning to feel smaller with every passing second. Kurt pressed his eye to the iron-rimmed keyhole of the door to observe the situation while looking for the opportune moment to escape.

Outside, the chaos had only escalated. The muffled stomping of boots on stone was constant now, punctuated by the frantic shouts of men in a panic.

"... Search every corridor! Check the lower vents!"

"... Those heathens dare to kill even more of our brothers?! They will pay dearly!"

’Shit. They’re on high alert.’ Kurt’s jaw tightened. He then turned his attention toward the back of the small room.

The girl was wedged between a shelf of empty buckets and a stack of old, moth-eaten mops. She was hitching in small, violent sobs that she desperately tried to swallow. Her tiny shoulders shook under her thin tunic.

Kurt realized he must’ve looked like a nightmare. He reached up and pulled back his hood, revealing his face fully. He knelt, making himself as small as possible in the cramped space, and wiped a smear of blood from his cheek with the back of his hand.

"Hey," he whispered, dropping his voice into a low, gentle tone. "Look at me. Remember what I said? I’m not them. I’m also sorry that you had to see me do something so scary..."

The girl looked up, her crystal-blue eyes shimmering with tears. She stared at his eyepatch, then at his remaining eye. Seeing the softness of weary, human exhaustion rather than cultist zeal, she let out a shaky breath.

"I’m Kurt," he said softly. "What’s your name?"

"H-Hope," she whispered, her voice cracking. She then hugged her knees tighter and asked, "Are you... are you friends with the fireman? The one who makes the pretty lights?"

’Pretty lights? Fireman...? Oh. Is she talking about Dominik? Or at least, I think she is.’

"Yeah. He’s my friend." Kurt smiled. "He’s a bit of a loudmouth, but he’s one of the good ones. We’re actually here to get you all out."

Hearing him say that and feeling the fear fade, Hope wiped her nose with her sleeve and properly looked up to him. "Are you going to save the others? My friends? They took them away... the mean lady with the purple hair and the bishop. They haven’t come back to the playroom for days. I ran out the playroom because I wanted to see where they went."

’Violet.’ Kurt furrowed his eyebrows.

He thought back to the carnage in Violet’s room. The silk, the chains, the whip and hearts, the sex dungeon.

"I was just in the purple-haired lady’s room, Hope. I didn’t see any children there. There weren’t any other doors inside that would’ve told me she was hiding children."

’Besides, I’m sure Emelie would’ve said something if that were the case.’

"I-If they’re not there, then they must be by the bishop?" Hope guessed.

"The bishop? You mean they’re at Tobias’ estate?"

"Y-Yes! I can show you!" Her voice rose in a frantic whisper. She scrambled out from behind the rack, her small hand catching Kurt’s sleeve. "I know the way. There’s a side door near here. It leads to a gate, and that gate leads to the back pathway to the bishop’s house."

Kurt looked at her with skepticism. "How do you know that? The cult– I mean. The zealots wouldn’t just let you wander out there."

"I was there before," she said, her eyes darkening. "They took a bunch of us to the big house. We stood in a circle while the bishop said words that made my head hurt. Then he picked some of us to stay... and sent the rest of us back. I remember the path. And I remember that the scary people said they don’t like walking there because of the monsters."

"Hmm. Is that so?"

Suddenly, he heard a wave of new shouting. He then stood up and checked the door.

"INTRUDER AT THE WESTERN SPIRES!" Kurt heard a scream from the floor above. "IT’S THAT EMELIE HERST WOMAN! SHE’S SLAUGHTERING EVERYONE IN THE COURTYARD! ALL BROTHERS AND SISTERS, TO THE WEST!"

’Emelie got exposed? No, she’s too competent for that. Did she expose herself? Why? Has something gone wrong? No, that can’t be it, can it? Whatever it is, I trust that she has the situation under control. This also serves as the perfect distraction, hehee~’

"Alright, Hope," Kurt offered his hand to her. "Lead the way. Stay low, stay behind me, and if I tell you to run, you don’t look back. Understand?"

She nodded solemnly and took his hand. Her palm was small and cold, but her grip was firm.

.

..

...

- Right before Emelie’s exposure -

At the far end of the fortress, the atmosphere was a stark contrast to the quiet closet of Kurt and Hope. A dozen cultists stood in a semi-circle; their weapons drawn and faces pale with sweat. At the center of the courtyard stood the high-ranking leader of the group. A man with a scarred lip and a heavy mace.

Emelie stood among the ranks, her hood pulled low over her eyes, her posture humble.

"Report!" the leader barked. "What did you find in the playroom?"

"Nothing unusual, Senior Brother," Emelie said, her voice muffled. "The intruder is gone. He likely jumped the walls."

"Impossible! How can this be?!" The leader roared. "What about the unknown female?! I know I heard Brother Thomas yell something about that before taking his last breath!"

He paced around in the rain, his mace dragging against the stone. "We have a traitor in our midst and I don’t like it! I need to know who is responsible for this!"

Emelie suddenly moved away from the crowd and stepped forward. The other cultists parted for her, thinking she had information to share.

"I’ve seen her," She hinted as a smile touched her hidden lips. "A new member. I believe she’s been walking right under your nose this whole time."

The leader stopped, leaning in close. "Who? Name her, Sister! Show me the light!"

Emelie reached up and slowly pulled back her hood. She let the heavy cultist cloak slide off her shoulders, revealing her white hair with green streaks and a skin-tight black jumpsuit that hugged every curve of her body, allowing her to move freely. She looked the leader dead in the eye, her expression one of bored superiority.

"It was me, you idiot. Bleeeeh." She stuck her tongue out and mocked him.

The leader’s eyes widened, but before he could even draw breath to scream, Emelie’s fingers flicked upward. A violent surge of telekinetic force slammed into the man’s throat, snapping his neck with the sound of a dry branch. He collapsed like a puppet with cut strings.

"""....."""

The courtyard went deathly silent, save for the sound of rain that filled in the gap. The cultists stared at their fallen leader, then at the woman standing over him.

"Hi. I’m Emelie Herst," she said, her voice echoing with eerie nonchalance. She then floated off the ground as her hair began to glow. "And I’ve killed every single one of you in about ninety-nine different lifetimes."

Emelie pointed her hand at the nearest cultist member and with another sickening snap, their neck twisted.

"Let’s begin round 100, shall we?"

"KILL HER!!!"

""""OORAAAAAAHH!!!"""

.

..

...

Dominik was still sitting inside the playhouse with his eyes closed, concentrating. To the children, however, it looked like he was sleeping.

’Nine minutes fifty-eight... fifty-nine...’

"Ten." His eyes snapped open.

He stood up from the shadows of the playhouse and popped his joints. The playroom was a sea of small, expectant faces. The children had stopped playing and were all huddled together, muttering things about pirate this, canons that.

As they noticed Dominik step out of the house, a collective gasp rose across the entire floor.

"He’s back!"

"Is it time!?"

"Are we going on the adventure now?!"

Dominik looked at the sheer number of them. There had to be at least two hundred. His stomach did a nauseating churn.

’How the hell am I going to get two hundred kids across a war zone and onto a ship?’

"Yeah," he forced a grin and a nervous laugh. "It’s time! Everyone, form a line! Stay quiet, stay close, and follow the leader! Which is me, haha..."

He moved to the heavy, reinforced door near the back of the room. This was the only way out that didn’t involve creating another hole. He looked at the keypad and hovered his fingers over the keys.

’Alright, Emelie. Let’s hope this works.’

He punched in the code 221121. For a heart-stopping second, nothing happened. Then, the heavy locks inside the stone wall clicked. The massive iron bolts slid back with a thunderous clack, and the door swung open to reveal the dark, flickering hallway beyond.

’It really worked! Thank the Goddess above! Though I wonder how she got the password... Not that it matters right now.’

Dominik took a deep breath, his hands igniting with a soft, protective glow. He looked back at the children who were now scrambling toward him, their eyes full of a hope that he wasn’t sure he could fulfill.

"This is it, Captain Dom," he muttered to himself, turning to face the darkness of the fortress. "Don’t screw this up."

He stepped out into the hall, the first step of a march that would either lead them to freedom or to the bottom of the ocean.