The light rain painted the asphalt with an oily sheen while neon signs flashed in the distance, but there, in that alley hidden between two buildings that seemed abandoned since World War II, everything was darkness and mold.
Katharina followed Kaguya closely, her leather jacket clinging to her body, her eyes alert to every sound, every shadow. The city might be asleep above, but down below, London was bustling—a London that the ordinary world pretended not to see. And perhaps it was better that way.
They stopped in front of a worn iron door, hidden behind a graffitied container. On the doorframe, an almost invisible sign in red paint read: "Crimson Chapel."
Kaguya raised her hand, about to knock, but before she could, a small rectangular window opened with a metallic creak. Two deep yellow eyes stared at them for a moment, fixed, unblinking.
"Password?" growled a cavernous voice.
Kaguya didn't hesitate. She took a step forward, crossed her arms, and replied dryly:
