Light was dressed in impeccable white and golden armor, with a white cape falling from his back. Not a single scratch marred the surface. Not a speck of dust.

He walked through the clerestory walkways, his expression cold and distant. Priests greeted him as he passed — bowing, murmuring pleasantries — but he paid them no attention. His boots struck the marble floor in measured rhythm as he made his way to the center room at the highest level of the building.

The Paladin guarding the door opened it hurriedly and bowed his head as Light passed. Light didn't acknowledge him either, but the man looked rather pleased to have set his eyes on an Inquisitor. And not just any Inquisitor.

A new generation prodigy.

Light entered the room. It was a great sitting room, spacious and well-lit, with a semicircular sofa the color of pink dominating the center. The sofa in and of itself was a crude violation of the church's aesthetic sensibilities. Garish. Indulgent.

'Things are not right here.'

He stood at the door, cataloging the room's occupants with practiced efficiency.

He could see the Cardinal's guard, Templar Lyanna. She was a sword of judgment — one he had always wondered about. How strong was she, really? Of course, he knew for certain he would defeat her if it came to that. Even though they were both B-ranks, she was a bloodline user at the end of the day. There was a ceiling to what bloodline users could achieve.

A few priests stood guard along the walls. And there was a boy.

No. Not a boy.

Brown hair, dull golden armor, standing perfectly straight with a face as cold and still as carved stone. He was the one with the strongest presence of anyone in the room. Light had never seen him around the church, and judging from the quality of his essence alone—

'Heroic Spirit Summoner.'

It just had to be.

'Judging from his essence... he has to be at least A-rank. Or S.'

He subtly furrowed his brows.

'S-rank and they didn't send him to headquarters? What's going on here?'

Something was wrong. Something beyond a simple briefing for a failed capture mission. Light could smell it — that particular scent of information being withheld, of pieces moving on a board he couldn't see. Either way, he kept his face perfectly neutral as he entered the room fully.

"Ha! Templar Lightless!"

He bit down on his lip, lowering his head.

"Yes, Cardinal."

"Right, where are those girls? They should be arriving soon."

As she spoke, the door flung open behind him — nearly slamming into his back. He stepped aside just in time, the wood whistling past his shoulder.

He looked to his side with carefully contained irritation.

Three women walked in with choreographed nonchalance, their movements synchronized in a way that immediately set his teeth on edge.

The first was lean, around 5'8", moving with deliberate precision. Sharp facial features. Long, straight black hair that fell past her shoulders, immaculately kept. Every strand in place.

The second had a slightly more athletic build, more powerful — around 5'9" with long silver-white hair carrying a slight wave. She moved like someone who expected resistance and looked forward to it.

The last was shorter at 5'7", deceptively delicate-looking but wiry and resilient underneath that fragile exterior. Very long platinum-white hair, almost luminescent, worn loose and flowing behind her like a pale banner.

All three wore white military greatcoats with blue edges and linings, gold buttons catching the light. Their insignia bore the sun — but with crosses on all sides instead of rays.

'The Grand Blue Order.'

They were undoubtedly Crusaders from the Grand Blue Crusade. A Crusade Order established to commemorate the Radiant Faith's alliance with the Woven Faith.

'How...'

Light was lost for words. The Grand Blue Order didn't operate in this region. They had no jurisdiction here. For them to be present meant someone had called in favors — significant ones.

The three sisters moved deeper into the room with that same synchronized grace, their red eyes sweeping across the space before settling on the figures present. There was something deeply unsettling about how they moved together. Like a single organism split into three bodies. Like something pretending to be human and not quite getting it right.

Cardinal Theresa's face brightened considerably. She stood from her seat with an enthusiasm that made Light's skin crawl.

"Ah! The Thorn Sisters. Right on time."

The eldest, the one with black hair, stepped forward slightly and bowed with measured precision. "Cardinal Theresa. We received your summons."

Her voice was soft. Almost gentle.

'Soft voices and sharp blades. The combination rarely means anything good.'

"Yes, yes. Come in, come in. We have much to discuss." The Cardinal gestured broadly. "I believe introductions are in order. This—" she pointed at Light with barely concealed disdain, "—is Templar Light. He's the Inquisitor who failed to capture our target."

Light kept his face straight. No emotion. Not bothered one bit.

The middle sister with silver-white hair barked out a short, harsh laugh. "Failed? An Inquisitor against an F-rank?"

"The target was not F-rank," Light said flatly, his eyes remaining forward. "The intelligence was incorrect."

"Or you were simply incompetent," the silver-haired one shot back, her gray eyes sharp with judgment.

Light's fingers twitched.

He could feel his rage building — the disgust crawling up his spine like something alive. These women. Walking in like they owned the space. Their uniforms already showing signs of wear, small imperfections in the fabric, wrinkles that should have been pressed out, buttons that needed polishing—

'Harbor not hatred in thy heart. For Love is only of the Light. I am of the Light, hence I am capable of Love and Love alone.'

The mantra settled over his thoughts like cold water. His breathing steadied. His fingers stilled.

The youngest one with platinum hair stepped closer, tilting her head with an unsettling smile. "You don't look incompetent. You look pretty! Your armor is so clean and shiny!"

Light's eyes remained cold. Flawlessly restrained.

'Is she mocking me, or is she genuinely that... vacant?'

Cardinal Theresa clapped her hands together. "Enough. Templar Light, allow me to introduce your... associates for this mission. These are the Thorn Sisters of the Grand Blue Order."

She gestured to each in turn.

"Sister Mercy, the eldest." The black-haired woman inclined her head with that same measured precision.

"Sister Judgment, the middle child." The silver-haired one didn't bow. Just crossed her arms.

"And Sister Faith, the youngest." The platinum-haired girl actually waved, her smile widening to something that bordered on disturbing.

'Mercy. Judgment. Faith. Either someone had a dark sense of humor when naming them, or the church has finally abandoned all pretense of subtlety.'

"They will be taking lead on this operation," the Cardinal continued, walking around the pink sofa that Light found so offensive to look at. "Your role, Templar Light, is to assist them in locating and capturing the heretic otherworlder. Once he is secured, you will hand him over to the sisters and return to whatever hunt you were originally pursuing."

"Understood, Cardinal," Light said. His voice was mechanical. Perfectly controlled.

'Assist. Not lead. Not command. Assist.'

The word sat in his mouth like something rotten.

"The target's last known location was near the eastern caves," Theresa continued, pulling a document from her habit. "He was traveling with... unsavory company. Members of a criminal organization. You are authorized to use lethal force on anyone who interferes with the capture."

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