Chapter Text
The rhythmic chirping of birds melds with the early morning air, drifting through the stillness of the temple grounds. A faint mist clings to the sacred ground, dissolving as the first rays of sunlight spill over the curved eaves of the grand wooden structure.
The temple, a masterpiece of traditional Japanese architecture, stands in quiet reverence to the passage of time. Polished wooden floors gleam beneath the soft glow of paper lanterns, their warm light flickering against the intricate carvings on the beams. The scent of aged cedar lingers in the air, blending with the faint aroma of incense that drifts lazily from the offering brazier near the entrance.
Your footsteps are light as you make your morning rounds, lingering drowsiness evident in the way you occasionally rub your eyes. The wooden planks creak ever so slightly beneath your weight—a familiar sound that usually brings comfort.
But today, something feels off.
Pausing near one of the open shoji doors, your gaze lands on a gathering of figures in muted robes, their heads bowed as they wait in a solemn line before his chamber—the followers of the Eternal Paradise Faith. Their hushed murmurs barely reach you, their devotion resolute as they prepare to step inside and worship him—the Lord Founder.
You observe them in silence, your eyes tracing the serene expressions on their faces. Yet beneath their tranquility, an eerie uniformity lingers, as if their devotion has stripped them of individuality. The thought troubles you, though you cannot quite place why.
“.....”
And then it creeps in—slow and insidious.
Some of the more familiar faces among them are missing. The elderly woman who always arrived before dawn, the young man who clasped his hands so tightly in prayer that his knuckles turned white—both absent. They were here just yesterday; you're certain of it.
The last you saw of them, they were entering the temple's inner sanctum, likely seeking the Lord Founder's guidance.
And yet... they never came out.
A chill prickles at your skin despite the warmth of the rising sun. Your fingers tighten around the edge of your sleeve as your brows furrow, a flicker of unease stirring in your chest. The realization is like a whisper in the back of your mind, insistent yet easily ignored.
Shaking your head, you exhale slowly, forcing the tension from your shoulders. Perhaps you're simply overthinking. The temple is vast, with many hidden corridors and meditation chambers. They could still be inside, deep in worship, unreachable by the mundane world.
Yes, that must be it.
You turn away and continue walking, dismissing the thought entirely. Even so, as you move through the grand wooden halls, the scent of incense thickens, clinging to your clothes like an unseen presence.
Days pass, and the temple feels emptier with each sunrise.
The faithful gather, their voices rising in subdued prayers, but their numbers dwindle. At first, the absence is subtle—a handful of missing faces, their names slipping through the cracks of memory like grains of sand. But then, even the ones you've come to know vanish without a trace.
You tell yourself it's not your concern.
It never has been.
You were raised within these sacred halls, sheltered beneath the grandeur of towering pillars. The temple was your home—the only life you had ever known. But devotion does not equate to understanding, and for the first time, you realize just how little you truly know about the faith you have blindly followed.
The thought festers like a stain seeping into the corners of your consciousness. A puzzle sits before you, its pieces scattered in plain sight, waiting to be assembled.
You ignored it all.
Until the night of the full moon.