Gun of Ashes

Countless candlelights fluttered down upon Maruri port under the night sky, the glow not strong, casting a dim illumination, accompanied by softly murmured prayers, draping the entire city in a veil of mystery.

The man walked through the alleys on the edge of the streets, and from here, as he looked up, he could just make out the cathedral hidden among the buildings and guards.

That is Hearn Cathedral, now the residence of the Orthodox Pope, surrounded by monks and soldiers, heavily guarded.

Reporters once sought to interview this secretive pope, yet after the coronation ceremony, he never appeared in the public’s view again, but meanwhile, the actions of the Orthodoxy grew increasingly frequent.

In less than a year, this trading port city almost transformed into another city of faith, a change the man found hard to understand.

“What the hell is going on?”

The man whispered to himself, excitedly picking up his camera and notebook from his arms.

The more mysterious the matter, the more it compelled one to investigate. Various newspapers had secretly promised hefty rewards; as long as someone could glean internal information about the Orthodoxy, they would earn a large sum of money.

The man’s eyes were bloodshot, having roamed here for several days. He disguised himself as a homeless person, trying to elude the guards’ watchful eyes, yet their vigilance was so tight that outsiders had no chance of approaching at all.

Even disguising as a believer didn’t work; it seemed Hearn Cathedral belonged solely to the Pope. Even if other believers wished to enter, they must go through layers of reporting.

But today, the man finally mapped out the soldiers’ patrol routes and discovered a secret passage.

He couldn’t contain the curiosity rising within him, not merely because of the desire for the reward but also due to the thirst for knowledge of the mysterious.

Everything propelled him, unable to stop, approaching Hearn Cathedral.

The sound of breathing became clear, and the tension permeated the air.

A cold snap swept through, causing him to shiver uncontrollably.

Winter was coming; everyone said so, the chill gradually engulfing this port city, leaving the man nowhere to escape.

In the desolate darkness, he was both delighted and trembling.

It seemed he hadn’t noticed the change within himself, as if falling into a deep vortex, crawling in the chaos of darkness, advancing towards lighted places, step by step.

“Hearn Cathedral, it is so mysterious and magnificent, as if some magic power attracts me, calls to me…”

Under the cold moonlight, he wrote crooked words in his notebook, alert to every rustle and stop abruptly, staring into the distant darkness.

As darkness began to slowly creep, perhaps due to days of high mental pressure, it warped into a grotesque form. This might be hallucination or perhaps reality.

The man watched as the darkness revealed its fangs, an eerie suffocating sensation mixed with the waves at the shore stirred ripples, pressing hard on his mind. As he was about to lose it and scream, the “darkness” swiftly darted away, pausing under the moonlight, outlining the silhouette of a black wild cat, then quickly disappearing again.

The fear in his eyes gradually faded, his gaze lingering for a long time, then blankly averting, continuing to write in his notebook.

“During my wandering days here, besides the believers’ devotion, I heard other rumors…”

After writing these, he nervously glanced around, as if countless eyes in the darkness were watching him.

Cold wind carrying whispered secrets, he broke out in cold sweat, hastening his movements.

“Some say a devil is confined within Hearn Cathedral.”

With his note-taking, it seemed the stories he was writing were eroding reality, crawling out piece by piece from unfathomable nightmares, with moist clammy voices.

“Deep in the underground of this cathedral, the devil is imprisoned. Some claim they can hear its mutterings and songs, even the majestic organ music struggles to suppress its sound.

Some began to experience hallucinations, persistently having nightmares, yet these news seemed all blocked by the Orthodoxy; I constantly see soldiers and priests entering residential areas on the streets, carrying someone out from inside.”

The man’s notes gradually became messy, ending up a chaotic jumble, as if maggots entwined together.

He stopped his pen, vigorously wiping the sweat from his forehead.

Initially, the man only thought that these were nonsensical words spoken by believers for their ignorant faith, but the longer he wandered here, the more these hallucinations and nightmares multiplied.

First came the feeling of unknown unease, followed by gradually exhausted nerves, even a wild cat could scare him into such a state.

“It’s not like this, not like this.”

The man muttered to himself, comforting himself.

He had no faith; if anything, he believed in science, which was why he came to investigate the Orthodoxy.

Gaulunaro had been devoured by the Evangelical Church for too long; he thought with the decline of the Evangelical Church, this country could be freed from the shackles of faith, but instead fell into another bondage named Orthodoxy.

Yet now, the various eccentric sensations continuously assaulted the man’s firm worldview, cracking with numerous fissures, creaking, as if about to collapse.

He rose, moving forward, following the secret passage he had found.