Chapter 1: A City of Chains

Ecclesium. A city wrapped in chains. Towering cathedrals pierce the sky, their shadows cutting through narrow streets like knives. Bells ring out at dawn and dusk, commanding all to prayer. Every breath taken beneath the watchful gaze of the Church feels borrowed. Streets reek of incense, a suffocating perfume that lingers on the skin and clothes, leaving the faithful shrouded in its false comfort.

Steps often carry me to alleys where eyes can watch without being watched. Crowds gather in the square—heads bowed, lips murmuring hymns. A preacher speaks, voice booming with the promise of salvation for the faithful and damnation for doubters. Eyes flicker to the ground. No one dares meet the preacher's gaze. Fear drips from every corner of the square.

This is not devotion. This is submission.

Faith is the currency of Ecclesium, and I am broke.