Inside the church, shadows and light twisted together.
Led by the nun, Thomas was guided deep into the back of the church, arriving at a lounge that was clean and tidy—though it seemed no one had visited for a long time.
At her invitation, Thomas took a seat inside. The nun, with great enthusiasm, brought over a fruit platter. However, it wasn't filled with fruit, but rather with squirming, twisted insects secreting various kinds of mucous.
"Honored guest, please enjoy our church's local delicacies,"
the nun said sweetly, like a refined hostess, personally placing the platter before him.
Thomas remained calm and replied slowly,
"There's no need for that. I'm just curious—since you've already lured me this deep into the church, why haven't you made your move yet?"
The moment his words fell, the smile on the nun's delicate face froze.
The platter in her hands dropped to the ground with a dull thud.
