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PROLOGUE VILLAINS 

A mass of candles flickered in the subterranean chamber. 
The stone hall was replete with robed figures wearing bands around their foreheads, their mouths hidden beneath folds of cloth. It was a sight undeniably reminiscent of an underground organization or arcane religious sect. 
Though the air was heavy with a solemn silence, the depths of every eye present were aflame with passion. 
It was a peculiar zeal, nestled into the stillness. 
“My Lord, a new sister is here to ask for your benediction. Anoint her with your blessing,” a man said, his robes a different hue to designate his higher level. 
The hall consisted of a simple stone room, yet it was decorated like a sacred altar. The wall at the room’s center bore the crest of the patron deity’s familia—a heart of iron and bronze coupled with a single black wing, evocative of the reaper’s scythe. 
Kneeling before the altar was a beautiful elven maiden clad in naught but a robe. As the man raised his voice, the god himself appeared before her. 
He was utterly gorgeous, radiating decadence and charm. Long silken hair like a woman’s flowed down his back in a river of deep purple, and his towering frame, shrouded in tattered black robes, was both graceful and delicate. A bewitching smile graced his lips. 
His eyes, the same dark hue as his hair, narrowed at the elf knelt before him. 
“M-my Lord, is it true that…that you can grant me my heart’s desire?” 
“It is…so long as you are willing to make the pledge. You’ve heard of it, yes? Sacrifice yourself according to my divine will…and I will see to your future.” 
As the god replied, he bestowed upon her a smile of the divine, seductive and yet full of blessing. 
The elf was entreating him with her gaze, but then, hands shaking, she removed her robe and exposed her bare back to the slender god. He responded by scoring his finger with a knife, releasing droplets of red blood. 
She was receiving the god’s blessing; his Falna. 
Once the hieroglyphs had been carved into her back, she was reborn as a follower of her new god. 
“This goes for everyone as well! Once the promised day has arrived, I shall make all your desires reality! All your dreams! Pledge yourself to my name…to Thanatos!!” 
The robed figures immediately raised a great shout. Their bodies trembled with fervor, and some had tears running down their faces at the sheer flood of emotion. 
“Long live Lord Thanatos!” 
“Please…please make our dreams come true!!” 
Again and again, his name rang through the hall, reverberating against the rock and stone. 
The god, Thanatos, smiled down at them from his altar. 
Their cries still ringing in his ears, he turned his back as he made his way out of the hall into the dark passage behind the altar. Soon, the blue glow of magic-stone lanterns surrounded him, with nothing but the echo of his own footsteps accompanying him in the gloom. 
He walked until a woman, her back against the passage wall, came into view. 
“Nice work today, Lord Thanatoooooos.” 
She was human, and on her shoulders hung an overcoat of feathers and skins—drop items from monsters in the Dungeon. Beneath it, she wore only close-fitting fabric over her chest and tight leather pants to cover her legs. 
The smile she gave him was derisive, at best. 
“Seems like you’re gettin’ the hang of this whole high-and-mighty bit, hmm?” 
“Hardly. More like gettin’ a crick in the neck! Sure you don’t wanna switch with me, Valletta dear?” 

The god’s captivating aura disintegrated in a flash. The alluring gaze and grin he’d directed toward his followers devolved into the facade masking a god with far too much time on his hands. With that air of dignity gone, all that remained was his degeneracy. 
“That’s soooo dumb. Why would I? There’s no point if it’s not a god on the job. You need majesty to convince those schmucks their dumb little dreams are gonna come true.” 
“I know, I know! But still! I could have all the children in the world hanging on my every word and it still wouldn’t be enough…And don’t deny that officials and leaders in the mortal realm aren’t doing the exact same thing. This is gonna get even worse as the organization grows.” 
The girl, Valletta, stepped away from the wall, sidling over and latching onto Thanatos’s back. 
“Did you need something, by the way? I’m sure you’re not just here to give me a hard time.” 
“We have a visitor,” she responded, pointing her chin farther down the passage to a fluttering swath of red hair, wreathing around a pair of green eyes and a face that was callous and cold. 
It was the red-haired woman, neither human nor monster but a “creature.” 
“Well, hello there, Levis dear. It’s been a while. You need something?” Thanatos started toward the woman, ever-present smile on his face. 
“I have a message from that masked Ein. ‘It’s about time for Loki Familia to show up.’” 
This stopped him in his tracks. 
“…I see. Then they’re coming after all. What’s the plan?” 
“Lure them here…and trap them. Kill all of them except Aria.” 
“Aria…? Ah, the little Sword Princess. What about you, Levis? What will you do?” 
“—I will deal with Aria.” Levis’s voice suddenly intensified with her reply, a strange, disquieting aura surrounding her. Intimidation, perhaps, or was it simply her presence? At any rate, she seemed entirely different from when she previously crossed swords with the girl revered as the Sword Princess. A lust for blood permeated Levis’s taut green eyes. 
“Wait just a minute here, Levis. I’ll do what you ask, but hear me out. Or maybe help me out would be the better choice of words. Loki Familia’s no joke! Not sure I can do all that on my own.” 
“I don’t care. Figure something out.” 
“Come on! This is the surface, yeah? Luring them here is all well and good, but if they get a look at those spirits? Won’t be pretty.” 
“…” 
As Levis started to turn to leave, Thanatos fearlessly laid a hand on her shoulder. 
She batted it away, turning to look him square in the eye. “I will dispose of Aria…That is all I can offer and all you need.” Without another word, she walked off, disappearing into the shadow of the passage. 
Though Thanatos deflated a little in response to the ever-callous resident of the underground, his features betrayed an inkling of amusement. 
“Thanatos. Leave Finn to me. No matter what happens, yeah?” Valletta asked with a venomous smile. 
“Right, you have your own bone to pick with him, if I remember correctly. By all means, have your fun.” Thanatos nodded in return. “Though I’ll be screwed if you don’t take care of him.” A blanket of gloom seemed to settle atop him—until he suddenly remembered something with an “Ah!” 
“Why don’t we pay our dear Barca a visit, too?” 
Clang, clang. 
The sound echoed in the darkness of the tunnel. 
A man’s bloodied hands wielded hammer and pick; nobody knew how long they had toiled. Long bangs hung over his left eye, while under his right was a deep bag, and his skin was so pale it was as if it had completely forgotten the warmth and light of the surface sun. 
Like a doll, he tirelessly worked, digging his hole, almost as though the devil himself possessed him. 
 



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