Tomorrow, Light Returns

“Allen… are you awake?”

Luna asked the girl beside her—the one who now resembled a lifeless puppet.

She didn’t understand what had happened to her.

She no longer spoke.

She simply existed—stiff, silent, like a doll.

As always, there was no response.

Ever since she woke up on Luna’s back yesterday,

She had remained dazed—

Her eyes empty, unfocused.

The doctor had examined her.

There was nothing physically wrong.

Like a frightened deer,

She had been deeply traumatized.

Now she was nothing more than a hollow shell.

No matter what Luna said,

It was as if Allen couldn’t hear.

She simply stared—

At the ceiling…

Or out the window…

Eyes empty.

From the beginning, Luna knew—

She couldn’t speak either.

No matter how much she tried to provoke a reaction,

Allen made no sound.

Even when Luna pinched her thigh—

There was no response.

In her current state,

If placed on a chair and dressed in an elegant gown,

Anyone would mistake her

For a life-sized porcelain doll.

Luna wasn’t a doctor.

Nor a priest capable of healing the mind.

She had no solution.

All she could do

Was take her to the capital—

Find a peaceful place

And let her rest.

Later, she would find a proper physician.

That was all she could do.

She would never dare bring a priest near Allen again.

To Allen—

Priests had likely become something fatal.

Luna didn’t understand

Why Allen knew Savage.

She didn’t even know he was a bishop—

Yet she recognized him instantly.

When the Flower of Death appeared,

She called his name without hesitation.

The three of them—

Each had a strange connection to Savage.

For Luna—

He was an opponent.

A cardinal of dark magic.

His smile was false—

Yet effective.

For Eugene—

Savage was his enemy.

His hatred ran deeper than patricide.

His entire life

Had been shaped by Savage.

But for Allen—

Savage had once seemed kind.

Like an older brother next door.

Warm… gentle…

Surrounded by something like holy light.

Someone who made others feel at ease.

These different perspectives

Wove an inseparable, tangled bond

Between the three of them and Savage.

As if—

Each had shared a private moment with him.

Eugene—

In childhood.

A near life-defining tragedy.

It made him stronger.

More independent.

Luna—

During the prison break.

In that brief moment while Eugene was unconscious,

She saw through him with her sharp perception.

Yet she didn’t realize immediately

That he was only a shell.

Only at the end

Did she understand—

He was merely a pawn.

Acting under someone else’s will.

Allen—

Never truly understood.

She had only spent a short time with him

On that dark path.

He seemed gentle.

Easy to talk to.

So when he revealed himself—

She couldn’t believe it.

But the tail—

Was real.

Stained with blood.

Bright red.

Like lacquered bone.

When he summoned corpse guards—

When bodies filled the sky like locusts—

She finally understood.

He was a killer.

The sudden contrast terrified her.

She trembled—

Watching from afar.

The man who carried her moments ago

Was now slaughtering civilians.

It felt like lying atop a venomous serpent.

She almost died that night.

She grabbed a lantern

And ran along the dark path.

She feared the darkness—

But for him,

Darkness was paradise.

The sky full of corpses

Was proof.

A true hell on earth.

Like in Isa’s Purgatory—

Where sinners are dragged into hell

By the scythe of death.

Winged corpses—

Like locusts—

Flying in the sky.

Though imagined—

It perfectly matched what she saw.

She ran.

Through the path.

To the crucible.

In fear,

She hid in a quiet corner.

Now—

It was afternoon.

Two hours remained before the mail carriage departed.

Luna had already bought fresh clothes.

She planned to bathe

And leave for the capital.

This might be her only chance to bathe

For an entire week.

Allen, however,

Still hadn’t washed.

The smell of blood lingered—

Now mixed with a metallic scent.

That morning,

Luna rented a room at an inn.

She slept—

Peacefully.

A rare, restful sleep.

When she woke—

It was already afternoon.

Their blood-soaked clothes

Were beyond saving.

She threw them away.

She undressed Allen as well.

Her undergarments—

Soaked in blood—

Discarded.

Allen lay naked on the bed.

Luna quickly covered her with a thick blanket.

In the past—

Allen would have blushed,

Closed her eyes tightly,

Covered herself in embarrassment.

Now—

Nothing.

Like a lifeless doll.

Luna was exhausted.

She ignored the remaining stains

And fell asleep holding her.

Now awake again,

She glanced back—

No change.

Still a puppet.

Luna sighed.

She got up,

Packed her things,

Preparing to bathe and leave.

Allen still smelled of blood.

So Luna decided—

To bathe her as well.

Allen was light.

Like lifting feathers.

And obedient—

Move her arm,

And it followed.

A perfect doll.

Luna seated her carefully

Like arranging a figure.

Then gently poured warm water over her.

She softened the dried blood in her hair—

Cleaning it strand by strand.

Silver hair—

Finally restored.

She applied oil—

Giving it a soft sheen

And faint fragrance.

With a cloth,

She cleaned the blood from Allen’s body—

Carefully.

Afraid of hurting her.

Allen…

Remained perfectly still.

Even when water entered her eyes—

No reaction.

No complaint.

Nothing.

Despite her care,

Luna still made small mistakes.

Tangled hair.

Water splashing into eyes.

It was inevitable.

After all—

If Luna weren’t a little clumsy,

She wouldn’t be Luna.

After cleaning her,

She dried her carefully.

Then used wind magic

To dry her hair completely.

She carried her back to bed.

Wrapped her tightly in blankets.

Only then—

Did she return to bathe herself.

Everything was ready.

Soon—

They would leave this place.

This land of trouble.

Here—

Allen had been broken.

Betrayed again.

Luna felt something strange.

Grief for Eugene’s death—

But also something else.

Fear.

The fear of death.

Someone who laughed with you yesterday—

Gone forever today.

She was the incarnation of Cerberus.

She shouldn’t feel this.

And yet—

She did.

The helplessness of life and death.

As for Savage—

She swore—

One day,

She would drag him out

And bring him justice.

Clear Eugene’s name.

One day—

The Church would change.

Black mages like him

Would cease to exist.

For the dead—

A deep mourning.

“Lilith… wait for me…”

She thought of the black-haired girl.

“I will return.”

She had to believe—

She would be safe.