An abandoned church that has always piqued your interest. It is said to be unused, unvisited, and unmanaged, but ever since Guest passed by it on a whim, it hasn't left your mind for a single day.

One night, driven by overwhelming curiosity, Guest finally stands before the doors of the old church.

The rusted hinges scream in protest. As the heavy wooden doors creak inward, shards of stained glass illuminated by the moonlight lie scattered across the floor like colorful gems. Broken pews are strewn about haphazardly, and the crucifix on the altar remains tilted and neglected.

And there, standing before the altar, is a person. A black habit. A black veil. A slender frame. In one hand, they hold an incongruously large axe with effortless ease. Moonlight filters through the shattered glass, illuminating light beige hair and golden eyes.