In a dark hall filled with candlelights and pillars that stood like formidable giants, an ensemble of nuns gathered.
At the center of them was an uplifted slab, and on this slab was the body of a man that had appeared only a few moments ago.
Curious, grateful and excited, the nuns gathered closer, peering at the figure. He was completely naked, and his body was made of muscle and strong flesh, every part of him was chiseled.
And his face…
"He's much too pretty for a man," Sister Celeste whispered, drawing her face closer to his, taking a sniff of his full raven colored hair.
"Restrain yourself, Sister Celeste," Sister Elaris warned, although she herself couldn't stop peering at the man's face.
The other nuns travelled his body with their eyes, murmuring to themselves as they enjoyed the appearance of a young able-bodied man in the cathedral once again.
Their eyes moved down his chest, down his abdomen, down his waist and rested on his large, flaccid —
"He's waking!"
In an instant, they all scrambled back to their positions.
"Waittttt— Hah!" Lucian gasped awake! His arms pulled him up to a sitting position, voice cracking when he realized he wasn't in the white world any longer.
His chest heaved, lungs burning as they dragged in great gulps of cool, incense-laden air.
First, he turned left, and then right. His vision was filled with the haloed glare of countless candles. 'Where the hell am I now?!'
Massive stone pillars were everywhere that he looked, having unfamiliar symbols carved into them and soaring upwards into a grey ceiling with golden plating that was impossibly high above.
Light, fractured into sacred shafts of deep crimson, brilliant gold, and cool blue, streamed down from towering stained-glass windows depicting scenes of radiant beings and celestial fires.
The air that he was breathing was thick with the cloying sweetness of incense. And even more, the place was profoundly, unnaturally silent.
This was some kind of church, he realized. A temple or a castle consecrated by devotion.
Lucian's breathing only quickened. He had hoped that this was a dream. But so far, it seemed he was really alive.
Even more, he was… surrounded.
With creased brows, Lucian suddenly noticed that there were many figures around him. Not just any figures, but they were kneeling in unnervingly perfect, silent rows that stretched down the vast nave, and they were clad in variations of sacred vestments.
And by sacred vestments he meant Habits! The clothing worn by nuns.
The tunics of some were lined with crimson silk, while some had delicate silver thread in their veils. Some wore polished plates of armor over their robes, others only simple cloth.
Some faces remained hidden beneath deep veils, spectral and anonymous. Others stared directly at him, eyes wide with an unsettling mixture of awe, desperate hope, and trembling reverence.
Their voices rose then, weaving together into a soft and solemn chorus:
"Our prayers… have been answered."
Lucian stared at them, wide-eyed, his heart hammering against his ribs as if he'd sprinted for miles.
Instinctively, he looked down at himself. And that's when he realized he was naked. His clothes — his worn jacket and damp t-shirt — were gone.
Like a mad man, he immediately staggered to his feet. Actually, he bolted like a gymnast, jumping from the slab he was on and feeling the icy stone of the floor with his feet.
"What the hell is this?" He demanded, backpedaling to the end of the room where a dark wall stood. "Where are my clothes! What is going on h… here? Where is this? What is this place?"
He used both hands to cover his dangling member which to his jarring surprise, was unable to stay hidden behind his arms.
The nuns however, didn't answer immediately. A ripple passed through them, subtle glances traded between the figures standing closest to the central aisle.
Two, in particular, exchanged a prolonged, weighted look: one with red wavy hair and a habit of ink-black; and the other, taller with shorter hair, and a half-armored habit made with golden straps and weapons.
Sister Elaris and Sister Marielle.
"I said where the hell am I?!!!" Lucian repeated.
Before either Sister Elaris or Marielle could speak, a nun had already found her feet and approached the terrified man with gingerly steps and graceful posture.
Gently, she drew back her veil just enough to reveal her face — softly rounded, pale as moonlight, etched with an expression of profound, tearful devotion.
Her eyes were large and luminous, decorated with the color of glass like she was almost about to cry. The way she gazed at him, Lucian thought he was a god of some kind. It was like she was worshipping him.
As she got closer, he could smell the scent of incense that clung to her. Even her silver hair threatened to blind him with its glitter and her heavyset breasts pressed tight against her habit.
"Please… do not be afraid," she echoed the same first words the goddess had said to him. "You are safe here. You are blessed beyond measure."
Lucian narrowed his eyes, refusing to believe that this was actually happening. "What are you talking about?"
The nun placed a delicate hand over her heart, resting above her breasts as a gesture of sincerity.
"I am Sister Celeste, Anchor of the Prayer Nuns. It was I who led the Prayer of Radiant Desperation, our final plea to the Goddess." Her gaze intensified, filled with that unsettling wonder. "And it was you whom the Goddess Exalta delivered unto us."
Lucian's eyes darted frantically around the other nuns who were all looking at him, a sense of expectation in their eyes.
"Delivered unto you? Why's that? What am I doing in this place?!"
Celeste stepped closer, her presence radiating a calm that only amplified his agitation. She didn't speak further. Instead, she sank gracefully to both knees before him, her head bowed slightly but her eyes still lifted to his face.
Lucian only frowned. "What are you doing?" he muttered.
Five other nuns followed, bowing in the same posture. First they stepped forward and then lowered themselves to one knee, mirroring Celeste's posture but with distinct bearing – one's kneel was sharp, another was precise, another was gentle.
But they all placed one hand flat over their heart in perfect, silent unison.
Then, with the other nuns behind them, their lips parted at once, filling the cathedral with a single, unified plea:
"Dear Priest! Hero of the World and Sovereign of the Church of the Goddess, please save our world from the shadows that threaten."
Lucian took an involuntary step back.
His heel bumped against the cold wall, meaning he could back away any longer.
"…What the hell have I gotten myself into?"