Noon?
A name Irene had never heard before, but it sounded sunny enough.
What truly shocked her, however, was the supernatural body…
Such things were extremely valuable.
Though the church might just barely afford something of that price, in practice, because of their nature, supernatural bodies were most often used to craft weapons.
After all, if one fused into Irene’s own body could make her this strong, then if they were implanted into soldiers, it could create entire armies of super-soldiers.
But the price of each one was no less than that of an armored vehicle or even a tank, so they could never be supplied in bulk.
At first, Irene had no intention of going in.
But she couldn’t resist Sydney’s warm invitation—nor her own inexplicable and burning curiosity—so she stepped into the church.
The inside of Saint Maria’s was far more spacious and warm than its exterior suggested.
The wooden pews, though old, gleamed from being polished.
The stained-glass windows were patched countless times, but still did their best to scatter colored light into the room.
The air carried a mix of candle wax, old wood, disinfectant, and cheap food.
Not pleasant—but oddly comforting, full of the scent of everyday survival.
Just as Sydney had said, it was lively.
The pews were full, some people praying quietly, others whispering to each other.
Along the side aisles, tables had been set up, where nuns and volunteers were distributing bread, hot soup, and clothing.
Children chased each other in the limited open space, their laughter echoing under the vaulted ceiling.
Noisy—yet full of a vitality born from weary souls comforting each other.
But Irene’s attention was fixed entirely on the front of the church—on the tall wooden crucifix above the altar.
To be honest, she didn’t know much about the differences between denominations.
But just like the floating cross atop the spire, a strong, bound radiation leaked faintly from within the weathered wooden statue.
Beneath her hood, Irene’s cat ears twitched uncontrollably.
There was no mistake.
The crucifix itself was also a container for a supernatural body.
And the energy within it far surpassed the smaller one in the spire.
She just couldn’t tell which part exactly was the supernatural element.
A run-down parish church, hiding not just one but two supernatural bodies?
Both clearly tamed and technically processed?
That was anything but ordinary.
The floating cross could be explained away as a “miracle.”
But the statue… what was its purpose?
“Miss Irene?
Are you looking at the statue?”
Sydney’s voice carried pride.
“It’s breathtaking, isn’t it?
Every time I see the Lord’s sacrifice, I feel His mercy and strength.
I’ve spent my whole life learning the power of forgiveness.”
“Yes… it’s very special.”
Irene forced herself to look away, her sense of caution rising sharply again.
This place was far from as simple and warm as it appeared.
Just then, a figure stepped from the side door by the altar.
A woman, dressed in a plain but spotless nun’s robe.
The cloth was a warm off-white, with no unnecessary decoration.
She moved with slow grace as she approached the altar.
At her appearance, every eye turned to her—even the children stopped running and grew quiet—gazing at her with a mix of awe and reliance.
Sydney immediately straightened her back, her face glowing with near-worship, and whispered to Irene:
“That is our leader, ‘Noon.’
Mother Joshua.
She’s also my mother.”
Joshua?
Her appearance was striking.
A head of golden hair, bright as molten sunlight, fell smoothly down her back, seeming to carry its own light even in the dim church.
But more striking still were her eyes—pure golden pupils, the same shade as her hair.
Unlike Utoya’s fierce eyes, Joshua’s were like two pieces of amber forged in altar fire—clear, deep, and shimmering with a light that was almost inhuman.
The flames of faith burned in those eyes, pure to the point of fanaticism.
Her features were both delicate and solemn, her skin an unearthly pale untouched by dust.
She reached the altar and gently cupped the candle burning before the crucifix, her posture holy and devout.
When she lifted her gaze and swept it across the crowd, her golden eyes seemed to radiate warmth.
Wherever they landed, the faithful bowed their heads or smiled with reverent devotion.
And then her gaze fixed, with pinpoint precision, on Irene at the edge of the crowd.
For a heartbeat, their eyes locked.
Irene’s chest lurched violently.
Those golden eyes carried no hostility, but they glowed with the light of one who saw through everything.
And… it felt as if something resonated between them—radiation calling to radiation.
She’s a supernatural-body host too?!
Joshua’s eyes lingered for several seconds, especially on the part of Irene’s neck wrapped tightly in fabric.
Irene instinctively covered it with her hand.
A flicker of recognition passed through those golden eyes.
Then came something deeper, unreadable, probing.
Joshua set down the candle, her lips curving into a gentle but commanding smile.
She didn’t look directly at Irene.
Instead, she turned to Sydney, her voice flowing like clear spring water, carrying perfectly measured warmth and trust:
“Sydney, my dear child.
Would you help in the storeroom?
The relief flour that arrived today needs to be counted.
The list is with Sister Martha.
She always muddles the numbers, and I need someone careful and reliable to assist her.”
Her words were just the right balance of request and confidence.
“Ah? Oh! Yes, Mother! Right away!”
Sydney nodded at once.
She turned back to Irene with a slightly apologetic smile and whispered:
“Miss Irene, I’m sorry, I have to go for a bit.
Please, take a look around—I’ll be back soon.”
“No problem, go ahead.”
Irene nodded, watching as Sydney hurried toward the side aisle.
At that moment, the murmur of the crowd seemed to fade into nothing.
Joshua no longer gave attention to anyone else.
She descended the altar steps with elegance and walked straight toward Irene.
Her off-white robe swayed lightly with her steps.
Her golden hair and golden eyes formed a halo in the dim light.
She stopped in front of Irene—not too close, not too far.
But the pressure came all the same, mingling the sacred atmosphere of the church with the hidden radiation of the supernatural body.
Every nerve in Irene’s body tightened.
Joshua tilted her head slightly, the flames of inquiry burning in her golden eyes.
Her face wore the same saintly smile, but her words fell like a pebble into a still pond:
“Welcome to Saint Maria, lost lamb.”
Her voice was soft, but clear enough that only Irene could hear:
“There’s something… very unusual about you.”
…..
Irene’s hand twitched toward her lower back, ready to draw her Makarov at any second.
She’d never heard of anyone with a supernatural body being bulletproof, but still… the woman didn’t feel like an enemy.
“Uh… h-hello?”
Tentatively, Irene spoke, though guilt tugged faintly at her heart.
To be honest, when she first came here, her plan had been to steal the supernatural bodies to pay off her debt.
Five hundred thousand… if she sold one properly, it might fetch that much.
And theft didn’t matter, really—survival was survival.
She didn’t mind robbing the rich to give to the poor.
But Sydney… she was her friend, more or less.
Such a sweet, kind child—there was no way Irene could bring herself to steal from her.
Not to mention, the church didn’t seem like the bad guys.
“Hmm… repenting on the spot?
Such a sincere child.
‘If one has enmity with another, they must be forgiving, they must be merciful.’”
Joshua’s golden eyes narrowed with a sudden smile.
Irene nearly jumped out of her skin, her tail almost popping from under her coat.
Reading—reading minds?!