After Lucian saved the terrified girl, he vanished into the shadows before she could speak. The echo of her scream trailed behind him like a fading hymn in an empty chapel. The alley grew quiet again, leaving only the wind and the faint clatter of a distant train.
He walked the streets of New York without direction. The city was alive with noise—honking cars, distant sirens, and the rumble of the subway below. But none of it touched him. He passed unnoticed, a ghost among the living.
It wasn't until he passed a run-down diner that something caught his attention. A small television flickered in the corner window. On it, a priest stood behind a podium, speaking into several microphones outside a local shelter.
"We must not give in to fear. Forgiveness and prayer are our weapons."
Lucian narrowed his eyes. He knew that face.
Father Elijah Brennan.
Once a man of real conviction, now a hollow echo wrapped in silk robes. His sermons soothed the desperate, but his past was soaked in secrets. Lucian didn't need a dossier to know. He could feel it—rotten under the surface.
📜 [SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
New Quest Unlocked: Tempt the Unworthy
Target: Father Elijah Brennan
Objective: Shatter his delusions. No violence.
Method: Psychological exposure.
Reward: +5 Influence | Passive Trait Gained: Temptation Aura (Low Rank)
Time Limit: None.
System Note: The soul must fall willingly.
Lucian smirked. "No countdown? Good."
He turned away from the diner and walked into the night.
Establishing a Life
Lucian understood that power worked best when hidden behind normality. He needed to blend in. So he forged an identity: Julian Cross—a quiet man with a forgettable face and no history.
At a smoky internet café run by a tired teenager named Darius, Lucian paid cash for access to a printer and forged the basics: ID, references, even a fake degree. Darius didn't care.
"You got the eyes of someone who's seen too much," the boy said, squinting.
"I see just enough," Lucian replied.
"Good luck out there."
Lucian found a small apartment above a shuttered laundromat in Hell's Kitchen. The landlord, Mrs. Velasquez, didn't ask questions. She saw too many strange faces to care.
"No smoking, no yelling. Rent's due first of the month."
Lucian nodded. "Understood."
The place was bare—just cracked walls, a sink that dripped, and a mattress on the floor. But it was shelter. And more importantly, it was his starting point.
First Pull of the Thread
Lucian got a job as a night file clerk in a law firm downtown. He worked quietly and efficiently, avoiding unnecessary conversation. His supervisor, Peter Mallon, was a wiry man with thinning hair and twitching hands. He spoke quickly, often repeating himself.
"Just organize the boxes, Julian. Don't open anything labeled red. Red is confidential. That's all. Okay?"
Lucian nodded and set to work.
One night, he noticed Cynthia, another clerk, pause when she passed him. She stared longer than necessary.
"You feel... odd," she said softly. "Like you're always watching."
📜 [PASSIVE TRAIT ACTIVE: TEMPTATION AURA – LOW RANK]
Effect: Subtle unease, curiosity, and desire in those nearby.
Lucian said nothing. Cynthia walked away quickly, forgetting her notes on the desk.
The aura had begun to take hold.
A Visit to St. Florence
Lucian followed Father Brennan's public appearances. He tracked his movements, noting when he visited shelters, hosted charity dinners, or appeared in interviews. But it was at St. Florence's Chapel, a forgotten church tucked between old buildings, that Lucian found his opportunity.
He entered during morning prayers. The air smelled of wax and mildew. Only a few elderly worshippers sat in the pews. Father Brennan stood at the altar, voice gentle but hollow.
"We are all sinners. But we can be redeemed."
Lucian sat quietly in the back, unseen, unremarkable.
After the sermon, Brennan retired to the back room. Lucian followed discreetly. He waited in a side hallway as Brennan lit a candle and muttered to himself.
"They were just children... I was weak. God forgive me."
His hands trembled. Lucian stepped forward slowly, letting his footsteps echo.
"You speak of sin," Lucian said. "But you've never stopped."
Brennan turned, startled. "Who are you?"
Lucian's voice was calm. "Someone who listens. Someone who sees."
📜 [SYSTEM PROMPT: TARGET ENGAGED]
Brennan backed up. "You don't understand... it wasn't like that."
Lucian stepped closer. "You took confession from others, but never gave your own. You buried guilt under rituals. You convinced yourself God forgot."
Brennan fell to his knees. "Please... please... I've changed. I give. I teach. I'm not that man anymore."
Lucian crouched beside him. "You're still him. Just older. More practiced in lying to yourself."
He placed a hand on Brennan's shoulder. Not violent. Gentle.
"Let it out," he whispered. "Tell the truth."
The priest broke. Sobs shook his body. He confessed—names, years, excuses. Lucian said nothing more.
When Brennan looked up, eyes swollen and soul cracked, Lucian simply walked away.
📜 [SYSTEM UPDATE: Quest Complete – Soul Tilted]
+5 Influence Gained
Passive Trait Unlocked: Temptation Aura (Low Rank)
Seeds of Corruption
Outside, the sun had risen over the city.
Lucian walked through the streets, no longer just a wanderer. He had a name, a job, a place to sleep. And now, he had a trail to follow. Brennan was the first—his guilt ripe, his soul unguarded.
But there would be others.
Those who wore masks of virtue. Those whose lies were thicker than their prayers.
Lucian would find them.
And they would fall—one by one—not through violence.
But by facing the truth they refused to see.