Date A Live: Red Crown Chaplain

23 - Famine Salvation

Rain represents many things. One hand delegates it to the destruction of waters, others, the essence of life, and to the godly folk, a relic that needs blessing to be holy. Otherwise, it foretells the myriad of ways in which life and death manifest.

Nighttime came and swept the sun away. Cold was the pitter-patter of the raindrops to add to the cold breeze of Old Night in an age of strife.

Ichor, blood, and tears of fury splat onto the cement path of the park, carried along by the falls of the rain as they soak into the grass. The anguish of the blue moon burns into their eyes.

The anointed, ordained Spirit of Famine, hellbent on her path to seek the Heretic, her white lamb, she chokes and coughs, expelling the vile ichor and her sacrificial vermillion and plasma. A small and black three-pointed mountain crowns her scalp and dark robes devoid of worldly, pure taint dress her.

"We... We shouldn't be doing this!" said he.

Reign comes of the vanished volition of deprivation under the right of purity, cloaked in long, white robes of a priestly fashion, ordained with red flowers, upright crosses, and cardinal red accents. He was taken under the wing, the hooded archway of a bright, sunny parable.

"We shouldn't be fighting!" pleaded he.

Thunder struck the trees enclosed near the paved path.

An image projected from his mind, the crooked hand of the clock points at the Famine, etching physicality onto his left wrist.

She who starves serves a reply, opening her mouth with sadness and agony.

"Keter Tsahov!" crying as she cried out the crown, for heavy hangs the neck of every vessel of the crowns.

---

Laura watches a sight to beholden to immorality and unethical practice, silently staring, coldly glaring through panes of windows and holographic screens.

Laura: "Schisse... 'In all my imagination, I didn't know this kind of mental torture existed. Humiliation, keeping the person nude and restrained in an uncomfortable position remaining inside a cold room.' "

Clothless and restrained to some crude, futuristic machine, Laura continued to look at the machinery—adrenal suppressant and pipes connected to the helmet that covers the eyes, stuck as if they were the Butcher's Nails.

Isaac: "Ho? I didn't expect my benefactor to be in such a place."

He arrived with his usual grin, speaking with a tone of confidence.

Laura: "Curiosity..."

Laura spoke, frowning, averting her eyes from him.

Ellen: "Ike, I wasn't informed of this."

Ellen seemed to have accompanied Isaac. 

Isaac smiles, casually placing his hand on her shoulder.

Isaac: "About her? Laura Agana is one of our benefactors now. And to ensure that I get what I want in the end, we made a deal."

Ellen: "A deal? What... What conditions did you set?"

Isaac: "It's all taken care of, Ellen. As collateral, she put her soul on the line."

Ellen: "Her soul?"

Clearly perplexed, she looks at Isaac and then at Laura.

Isaac: "Yes, her... soul."

Subsequently, the sly fox goes to Laura and holds her close by the waist. Laura reacted reluctantly, but she was ultimately passive towards him, submitting to him. Ellen had little choice but to accept the situation and given circumstances ever since she awoke.