Earth, London, West, Pancras Road, Somers Town. St. Abel's Church. March 29, 1949.
The morning of spring was marked by a light rain, which covered most of London without hitting the south and a small part of the east side, making the streets everywhere smell of fresh rain. Wet grass, puddles on the asphalt and sidewalk, which served as a great annoyance for all the citizens going to work, which fell on the early morning.
Birdsong was supplemented by the roar of automobiles, spreading everywhere with each hour, with each new wave of awakened people. The rattle of crickets had long since died down, and the various insects had only just begun to annoy most of the inhabitants, especially in close quarters or in the parks where they walked their pets.
A light rain occasionally diluted the overcast day, making the air damp and cold, causing people to dress more tightly in scarves or fur coats, forcing the earliest to curse under their breath....
London was beautiful as always, blooming with life as always, and the night walk was even better, for for once seeing the real stars was... For William, it was worth all the months of waiting and procrastination.
The fallen archangel had "measured" his time on Earth without much surprise, almost two full days, a generalized forty-five hours on Earth, which he could spend as he pleased. A walk through the night forest and, perhaps, the creation of new stories about the forest near Jung's house, which became a kind of horror story for the locals, another legend or scary story for children.
And, most importantly... the church still stood where it was. Where it was, and William still found out the exact address of his church, where he had been working all this time....
One that had been built and opened after some group of radical cultist-sodomites or whatever they were called on the news blew up one of the few churches that provided... "real" relief from the effects of Kara. Tho it wasn't scientifically proven, but the rumor was that whenever people came to repent to the holy father, their condition improved...
"Honestly, when I thought I would discover the ruins and ruins of the church I had so carefully avoided and put off, I didn't think it would be true...", William thought while... with some surprise he prepared for Sunday service in the new church, remembering the surprise and slight shock of finding the ruins in place of the old church.
The church was the same, maybe a little larger than before, but the Victorian style, the general color palette, and even the interior decoration remained the same. No, that wasn't William's concern, though it was more of a surprise.
"Father Jonathan, do you need help?" - the soft voice of a middle-aged woman, Elizabeth, whose figure had grown slightly fuller but still retained its former slenderness. The young woman, in her early thirties, no longer had the same naiveté in her gaze, but she still had the same kindness and concern for her loved ones.
""No, thank you, sister," William shook his blond head, noting with slight frustration that… of all the clergy he once knew from the old church, only 'Lisa' remained — the one who had joined around the same time he had. "You'd better get some rest. You deserve it after yesterday's service." The Fallen Archangel waved a hand, smiling slightly as Elizabeth averted her gaze but didn't argue with him.
William shook his head again, left alone once more, until his gaze landed on a small photograph hanging in the corner — a picture of Father Gabriel, an aging man whose graying hair and wrinkled face showed the passage of time. The man was thin, nearly devoid of fat, and his skin was paler than usual.
William... from what he had learned from the memory of Construct Richard, the priest who had acted as his cover and data collector on Earth regarding the Distortion, Gabriel — or Grigory, as he had asked to be called — had simply died of old age, of a heart that had stopped after enduring too much: the Punishment, personal matters William never learned about, though it was clear the man had once been married...
In any case, it was a surprise for William to discover that nearly all the nuns had left the church one way or another — some for family, some just for rest, and some had died... Leaving only Elizabeth behind. For William, who had only been "holding hands" with Emily for half a year, as Adam liked to say, it was a stark reminder that… Time moves on, and for humans, even a year — let alone two — is a significant span.
"It makes you remember again that, by Earth's time, our time with Sera…" William cut himself off, sighing deeply and adjusting his robe with the silver cross.
He had changed his name and appearance, because "Richard Schmitt," his former name and identity used by the Construct, had "died" in the explosion at the former church, when his creation had decided that a change in persona was the optimal course of action. After all… William had simply forgotten that twenty years was an even longer time than just a year. Once again, he felt how in that time, a person could completely change, adopt a new way of life, or utterly destroy the old one…
Now, his blond hair was tied back in a ponytail, a scar marked his face — applied as the simplest way to craft a new image. A short stubbly beard, with faint mustache lines, framed the face of a man in his middle years, who looked out at the rest of the hall with golden-yellow eyes. An unusual color, yet somehow one that drew no reaction."
Meanwhile, the church had slowly begun to fill with parishioners.They came in all ages — from two- and three-year-old children to elderly men and women, some walking with canes, others supported by loved ones. Quietly, they entered the sanctuary, taking their places on the benches.All the while, William was preparing for the morning service, which was just about to begin…
It wasn't particularly hard on William's soul.Just a constant, quiet sense of shame — like a dull needle pricking at his mind and soul, chewing away at something deep within, just beneath his heart.
William didn't want to be here.And yet, being in a place where God felt closest, he allowed himself to admit that truth in the brief silence of the slowly filling chapel.
The people were perfectly ordinary — perhaps slightly better off than the previous crowd — but even then, William didn't see their personalities or souls. He only saw varying degrees of Distortion.Damage to the mind.An illness that wouldn't have emerged otherwise.Dimmed, hollow eyes…
Only the front row, those staring longingly at Father Jonathan — they seemed eager, starving for something.Or maybe William imagined those looks.They were just ordinary worshippers, after all, not showing anything to the outside world.But William… couldn't help looking where he shouldn't.
Here, on this early spring morning, these people had come to escape their pain. To reconnect with like-minded souls. Or simply to pray.Whatever the reason, none of them wanted to think about their problems — though most of them… were fighting, in their own way.Some were doing something.Some were doing nothing.Some simply believed things would resolve on their own.And a few — a rare few — were honestly trying to find themselves again.
And for that alone, William believed they deserved his effort — to push past himself, steady his hands, and do everything in his power to help them.Or at the very least… that's what he kept telling himself.As the service went on.As he read lines from the sacred book.As he forced himself, again and again, to continue working in the church despite the burning discomfort, and the constant temptation to let the Construct take over again.But William endured.For now.
Speech after speech, blessing after blessing — the authenticity and holiness of which William quietly doubted — the Fallen Archangel carried on…
"An hour and a half already?!"William practically yelled inside his head, glancing at his wristwatch in the middle of whatever part of the service they were currently in.He was starting to lose interest.It was just the usual Sunday routine—
Wait.Today was Monday.Then why did his calendar—?
William let out a long, heavy breath, slowly inhaling and exhaling while the other clergy went about talking to people, making their rounds.He stood at the back of the hall, doing his best to appear occupied, while in truth, he was simply trying not to die of boredom.
Books had been arranged according to a specific pattern.Objects were placed in a neat, chessboard-like order.The table had been wiped down — twice — because, naturally, books should be placed on a clean surface.
"Honestly, I expected something fate-shifting. A meeting, an event, some grand revelation that would alter my view of things… Not this. Just plain priest work. Even the data collection for the Distortion research feels pointless."William mentally summed it up as he offered a polite smile to an elderly nun — not Elizabeth — a woman who, according to others (though William hadn't paid much attention), had worked at the church even before its renovation.
Half an hour passed before William glanced at the clock again.This was going to be a long day. And an even longer evening.
Boredom, apathy, and the constant struggle against himself.That was how William would describe the rest of the service in this old-yet-new church.He forced himself to participate, even in the smallest of tasks—especially those that involved helping parishioners. But he did it half-heartedly, just enough to create the illusion of involvement. Just enough for his lingering sense of duty—call it conscience, or perhaps morality—to settle down and stop clawing at his throat.
The choir?William had been to something like that once—a lifetime ago.But actually joining it? Standing among them, opening his mouth, singing along while pointedly not looking at the others, focusing only on the harmony of voices and not the content of their prayers?No. Just no.
As for conversations… spiritual guidance, that damn obligation to mentor people?William had declined without hesitation, citing some vague busyness and promising to do it next time.There would never be a next time.He wasn't some naive two-hundred-year-old demoness who didn't yet grasp the basics of morality.
An invitation to lecture at some Christian or Catholic school?William stifled a chuckle just remembering it—he'd nearly burst out laughing then and there.A Fallen Archangel—borderline Sinner—talking to children about God and Virtue?He'd subtly woven a suggestion into the mind of the elderly priest in charge to choose someone else.
Thankfully, cleaning the cells, the garden, and the nearby park was far simpler. No need for talking—not to parishioners, not to fellow clergy.The less they knew about William, the fewer details he'd need to feed the Construct to maintain the façade.
And so the rest of the day passed uneventfully.
No cults.No calls to God or Satan.Not even a guardian angel.Just the quiet routine of a small city church.Nothing strange. Nothing notable.
Jung had voiced a valid concern: someone from the Second Circle clergy might one day identify William for who he truly was—a Fallen One, walking the Earth in the very heart of a place saturated with Heaven's influence.But William saw no sign of that.Not a trace.Even when he subtly used Weaving to alter a decision made by the old priest—Peter, if memory served—he'd done so carefully, barely leaving a ripple. After that, he avoided any display of power altogether.
Maybe it was Adam. Maybe the Department had arranged something—after all, the First Man knew exactly where William "worked" on Earth.Or maybe the other angels were as in the dark as Archangel Vergil, who, despite his position in the Third Circle, knew next to nothing about the Fallen, their numbers, or even if they still existed.
No… perhaps William simply hadn't seen any guardian angels yet.He knew the principles by which they concealed themselves from human eyes.He also knew that demons could see them—though how, exactly, he never managed to learn.Not even Adam's infamous indifference could pierce the foundational Laws of Heaven regarding Knowledge.And back then, the two of them hadn't been that close.
Even so… William refused to dismiss the possibility that he might eventually encounter an angel.Preferably just an angel.Not a Power.Not a Dominion.And certainly not one of the Ophanim.William still remembered how much it hurt—how quickly and violently—to be caught in their holy fire.
Now, however, evening had come.That sacred hour when people finished work, school, university, or whatever else, and finally found the time to visit the church.These were the official confession hours—an opportunity to unburden oneself to an authorized priest.And Father Jonathan was just such a priest.
William had skipped the morning confessions before the Liturgy.He'd been the one reading the general prayer for the entire congregation, after all.So now, the Fallen Archangel had to wait for evening.It was the only time he could realistically hope for something interesting—something people might reveal—anything to advance his data collection for the day.
In truth, William hadn't attended confession all that often himself.A couple of times as a child, once or twice a year at his mother's insistence.As an adult… the memories were hazy.He thought he'd studied Christian and Catholic doctrine—under Father Mavrodi, perhaps.That was the name of the Holy Father at his church.
In any case, this time William…
He thought he heard only the usual confessions:Overeating.Skipping work or school.Lying to one's mother, sister, or wife.He wasn't even surprised by infidelity anymore—it was practically commonplace.Besides, priests were forbidden to disclose anything heard in confession, let alone use it in any way.
A man who had deliberately ruined his neighbor's yard, out of jealousy. William granted him absolution, for the man was truly tormented by his conscience.
A middle-aged woman who had cheated on her husband with his brother after drinking. The woman felt no remorse; rather, she simply needed someone to talk to. William did not grant her absolution, and strangely, the woman didn't seem to mind.
A child who had set fire to someone's backpack, released a wild squirrel onto another boy from school, wandered through the "dark forest," the one near the ruins of Jung's house—Jung, the "cultist-mage," who was "scary and cool, but that weirdo was just weird anyway"… The boy who had done all that in one day, skipping school, left with his sins absolved—simply because he told the story so amusingly.
Meanwhile, people came and went. The evening service was beginning—only after it ended, when no one remained, could William hear the confessions of latecomers, and then not until the next morning before mass.
"…Either I know far too little about what people usually confess to—which is likely—or these 'distorted ones' truly don't suffer as much as I imagined they did," William concluded as he reviewed the notes he had taken that evening.
He had heard the confessions of eleven people, which was the usual number. Each of these people had "ordinary" sins, as William called them. These people carried nothing particularly negative or hidden in their souls. No secrets of murder, no dark desires, not even the summoning of a succubus or incubus—nothing at all. These people were simple parishioners who had done nothing that truly warranted attention!
William was once again sitting in the confessional, flipping through his notebook, just to visualize the data—a method without Weaving—when...
"Forgive me, Daddy, I've been a naughty girl," came a soft and tender voice that William suddenly heard after a series of quiet footsteps. Apparently, the evening service had ended while he was writing, or perhaps this lady...
"The correct phrase is: 'Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,' young lady," William corrected her automatically, raising his eyes to the screen, where two tufts of light golden hair were clearly visible.
"Finally, something interesting," William perked up, shaking off his boredom to give his full attention to the late-night visitor.
"But Daddy..." the girl pouted—William couldn't see her, but he could hear the drawn-out tone in her voice. "I've been a bad girl today... I almost..." She clearly expected a reaction, delivering her words in a conspiratorially playful tone—utterly inappropriate for such a sacred rite.
William didn't interrupt her. His breathing remained steady. Calmly, Jung slipped his notebook and pen into his pocket.
"What is your name, my daughter?" William asked gently, noticing how the tuft of golden hair flinched. He spoke with a steady voice, filled only with understanding and a readiness to listen.
"All my friends call me Judy," she said in a sultry tone, "but my special friends can call me Ju, Daddy..." Judy was clearly leaning against the screen, and William could hear her exaggerated, theatrical breathing through its gaps.
"How old are you, Judy?" William asked in the same calm, unwavering tone. He clearly heard the annoyed sigh she let out.
"Old enough to do everything normal adults do," she scoffed, sounding like she folded her arms and leaned back against the confessional wall.
In other words, just barely of legal age... eighteen, most likely. Senior year of high school, unless they've changed the education system again, William mused, stroking his chin with slight frustration, trying to recall something about local schools. But...
He found himself relating more and more to Adam and his endless complaints about how the human world kept shifting. William, too, now grumbled—quietly but genuinely—about the constant need to update one's knowledge. Year to year, things changed. Damn it...
Meanwhile, the confessional fell silent again. Judy's soft breathing hadn't faded. If anything, it had grown... more nervous?
"Is this your first confession, my child?" William asked softly, mimicking the gentle tone he once heard from Father Methodius, the priest who… had helped William in his research?
"..." the girl was silent, tapping her fingers against the wooden panel. For a moment, she seemed to lose the cheeky spark with which she had broken the sacred rules of penance. "Yes, Dadd—…Holy Father," she finally exhaled, her breath uneven, as though bracing for scolding.
"There's no need to be afraid or ashamed, child," William said with a nod, searching for the most soothing, comforting tone he could find. At the same time, he began gently, almost tenderly, to scan Judy. He didn't look too deep—just a surface-level reading, so as not to disturb her experience. "You are in a place where there is no judgment and no condemnation. I am neither a judge nor a moralist. I am only here to help God reach out to you with His Light," said the Fallen Archangel, who once worked side by side with the Seraph that helped shape the Earth and mankind.
At those words, Judy only gave a soft, derisive snort. Yet when she finally started speaking again, her voice carried noticeably less arrogance than before—though there had been far too much of it to begin with.
"Daddy, yesterday I was flirting with Jane's boyfriend while she was in class…" Judy said with a pause, not out of shame, but simply to recall the exact moment. "Then… there was a fight with Lucy, and I said some awful things about that dumb cow behind her back. She deserved it, though, 'cause honestly, she's just a stuck-up slu—"
"You can skip the details, my daughter," William said, raising his voice slightly, though keeping the irritation out of his tone. He had never liked this particular kind of woman—especially when they were young and full of fire. "Spare the specifics unless they are necessary for the sacrament, my daughter."
At William's words, Judy let out a performative sigh—clearly nodding behind the screen.
"Of course, Daddy…" she purred, infusing her tone with even more sensuality. Her hot breath once again wafted through the screen between them.
"So, as I was saying," she continued, "me and my girlfriends, Anna and Lisa—they're coming tomorrow, though I'm not sure Lisa's dad will be able to… anyway—"
To her credit, Judy cut herself off.
"We were gossiping behind everyone's backs. Then I flirted with two more guys… showed off my boo-ooobs…" She stretched the last word, pausing briefly as if awaiting a reaction—but none came. "…Anyway, I also…"
William… William was listening intently to this girl.
She was nineteen, nearly twenty. She had repeated her final year of high school due to poor grades. Everything she was telling him was the truth. As for her parentage…
"Born in '30, right in the spring, just after the Fall…" William thought, growing more and more intrigued by this girl. She was a perfect example of someone not merely influenced—but someone who had, quite literally, been born from that day's aftermath.
Judy herself was… excessively uninhibited. A "free spirit," as some would say. A floozy or a whore, as Adam or Lut might've called her. But William, ever polite, simply referred to her as a young prostitute.
How else could he categorize her tales of bedroom exploits—not even with her own boyfriends, but rather with those already in committed relationships?
"…Daddy…" Judy kept talking and talking, practically leaning into the screen of the confessional. "This bad girl deserves punishment… doesn't she?" she whispered, trying to peer into the dim booth with her dark eyes, barely visible behind her fogged-up bicycle glasses—whose outline William could make out even in such low light, given how close she was pressed to the screen.
They had now been sitting there for over ten minutes, while Judy went over everything in... moderately censored detail—she had so many "partners," but…
"Please, my daughter, continue," William nodded, speaking in an almost detached tone, actively taking notes in his notebook. The Fallen Archangel didn't notice that the partition of his confessional booth had opened, interrupting his lines about the potential influence of Corruption on human behavior.
"Daddy…" Judy exhaled, forcing William to lazily raise his eyes to the blatant breach of all possible sacrament rules.
Her outfit matched her behavior perfectly. Her short red-and-white striped dress exposed her legs a little too much, while the snug sweater almost clung to her upper body, drawing attention to both her chest and hips. On her shoulders was either a jacket or a hoodie—William wasn't up to date on the latest fashion trends—but a red bag, matching the skirt, hung from her left shoulder.
Her short, shoulder-length golden hair was styled in two neat puffs, and her long, darkened lashes now fluttered as they shielded her eyes. Through the large lenses of her glasses, she looked at William with an overtly provocative gaze… By the way, her hair perfectly hid large, round… genuine golden earrings. Her long, crimson-brown socks paired well with the sneaker-boots that looked more like high heels than casual footwear.
"I couldn't take my eyes off you all morning..." - Judy said, walking slowly toward William, swaying her hips openly. The girl's eyes scrutinized the priest's figure, the smile on her face growing wider with each step. - "So big, so..."
Judy said and said, shifting to a whisper, almost climbing over William himself as he continued to sit on the confessional pew. Judy wrapped her arms around William's neck, leaning closer and exhaling her hot breath onto the Fallen Archangel's neck.
"...Normal body condition, standard arousal..." meanwhile, William was analyzing this girl for possible abnormalities. "No, it could be that this girl is really just a prostitute, but..."
William was intently, almost desperately examining the young girl's figure, every detail, every little thing that was available to William as she whispered something to Jung while running her palms over his figure.
William simply refused to believe that she was just a girl of easy virtue, that he was just spending an ordinary first day in a church full of people who had been subjected to Kara to one degree or another. These people must have something different from the "healthy" ones, William must have affected them somehow, his idiocy must have messed them up somehow, or Sera wouldn't have told him that Raphael himself couldn't fully deal with the Distortion.
William went on and on, searching with his eyes for anything, even one clue...
"...You skipped school?" - William said in the same soft-pleasant voice, looking into the opened pocket of the girl's bag. Besides the usual cosmetics, some candy, wrappers or papers, William could clearly see the paper of a test, even several. All with minimal-to-moderate grades.
Judy's movements immediately froze, and her figure twitched faintly. William heard a quiet sigh of annoyance as the girl pulled away, looking into William's eyes.
"Oh, don't be a tosser, Daddy..." - Judy stretched out, wrinkling her nose, not seeing any change on William's face. - "It's sitting on you now..." - Judy exhaled word by word, glaring at William, but was immediately interrupted when William raised his voice again.
"You're having trouble learning..." - William's quiet voice was immediately drowned out by Judy, her whole body showing her displeasure, but still not interrupting William.
"Is that why there's trouble in the family?" - William tilted his head, glancing at Judy's clothes.
They were new and looked like new, but a closer look showed scuffs, small stains where the color had faded. Handiwork in an attempt to hide it was visible. William also "looked" at the girl's soul, especially when she was so close, William could afford to look more closely...
Judy's face, at first a slight smirk and a twinkle in her eyes, twitched, the micro-expression changing to another in a split second. Irritation, anger, frustration, sadness. The tips of her lips twitched, as if unable to find the right emotion as Judy's eyes ran around the small confessional room. Judy's hands dropped, letting go of William while Judy herself took a step back.
Judy tried to say something, several times the words seemed ready to burst out, but she somehow fell silent as soon as her eyes met William's gaze again, staring intently at her. Her gaze, that almost lost look directed at William, was reminiscent of the one Charlie had, so...
The girl's figure shuddered as William's palm gently stroked the top of her head, and a ragged sigh escaped from her mouth.
"...It's..." - Judy whispered, nodding meekly. - "Yes." - Judy's gaze darkened, losing its former fervor and attitude. The girl's very movements seemed jagged, uncertain. It was as if she didn't know how to react to William's unconscious gesture, staring at him lost.
"Then... Judy, will you tell me about it? If you want to." - William nodded, looking into Judy's eyes with a small smile, inwardly exulting. What had previously seemed insignificant, what had previously been mundane statistics of
Excitement, but the source itself unnatural. The stimuli are overly intrusive and pestering. Judy's fixation mechanisms are "malfunctioning," tilted toward 'pleasure' or "enjoyment," interfering with concentration...
All this and more, William was able to recognize, cautiously peering into the soul, the eyes of the girl looking at him faintly, almost lost. William blinked, Judy was still looking at William confused. William blinked again, Judy repeated after him and .
Started the story.
"What... Beautiful eyes," were Judy's thoughts, gazing intently into the luminous white-blue eyes, almost bursting with energy as her brief history of her school and family days came off her lips.
Peer problems, where young Judy, still young and "not pretty", had just decided to make some changes in her life, just to get away from what was at home.
Judy didn't like the atmosphere at home, her mother, always working, always coming back late and with ruffled clothes that always had to be washed. Her mother never snapped at her, but for some reason she always looked at her... Unpleasantly at Judy, especially when she smoked, staring with sleep-deprived eyes at a photo album or out the window.
Confession usually lasted ten or twelve minutes, four of which Judy tried to get into William's pants, but now she was just talking under the gaze of an Archangel, albeit a Fallen Archangel. The poor girl didn't stand a chance.
" ...And then, I thought it would be a good idea to find some ancient and mystical text that summons a succubus." - Averted Judy's gaze, not in embarrassment, more in thoughtfulness. - "Not an incubus, I've heard those ones are so-so, yeah I get enough guys as it is, but a succubus can teach you something new..." - Judy spoke and spoke, now having trouble stopping talking than clamming up in her insecurity. - "By the way, Father, do you know if succubi can teach a summoner anything?"
All this time, Judy had sat there like a child in a car, chattering her legs while William sat with a straight back, nodding occasionally and encouraging her with brief words like "yes," "good," "go on, my daughter"... And now he was sorry, for she had been tongue-tied for the twentieth minute... Just as Charlie had been when she realized that William was taking the time to shut her up and show some interest.
"Depends on the knowledge itself, but it will definitely be some kind of sacrifice, either innocent souls or male seed in various forms. Depends on the knowledge and its importance." - William exhaled, shrugging his shoulders, completely serious in recounting what he had once learned in Heaven, to which Judy nodded as if not noticing, continuing.
"...No, being able to use succubus magic is cool, but I'd also like to go to Heaven instead of Hell..." - As if somewhere in a café or meeting other women, Judy didn't stop her flow of words, eliciting a sigh from William, the first violation of his image since the beginning of the half-hour confession.
"How about..." - again, just as William began to speak, Judy paused for a moment, pausing surprisingly politely for William to get a word in. - "That you come to church?" - William tilted his head, meeting the girl's questioning gaze. - "Just to talk or to unwind, nothing binding or..." - William grinned, noticing a momentary twitch of Judy's cheek. - "Studying, young lady."
" No... If Daddy's going to be the same..." - Judy exhaled again, adjusting her clothes and bag, buttoning and double-checking that one before stepping out of the confessional, into the empty hall of the church, the bloody light of evening shining through the stained glass windows. - "That's right." - Judy nodded more meekly, changing her tone to a calmer one. - "...Thank you." - added Judy more quietly, lowering her head and looking away.
"Then, if you don't mind, I still have parishioners." - William stood up just like that, adjusting his dark blue vestments along with the rest of his priestly garb, rubbing a silver cross that shimmered with a faint golden sheen.
William wasn't lying, even if he was using this reason to finally get the overly clingy and surprisingly compliant girl out of the church, who had been influenced by the Archangel's forces, but had quickly pulled herself together, almost complaining in her own way to William, who was still polite enough to wait for Judy to leave, and she left the church on shaky legs.