Session Adjourned

Faithless placed his hands on the table and spoke in a cold tone, staring at her with suffocating eyes:

"I want to know—why did you make yourself just a puppet, a pawn moved by whoever pleases?"

Cleo was shocked by the strange question, clutching her skirt tightly as she looked toward the ground, speaking in a trembling voice:

"I didn't have a choice… I—I used to work as a swordsmith with my mother. She was the only light left after my father was killed in the war. So, when my mother was killed—"

Faithless slammed the table with force and spoke in a sharp tone, gripping his dagger:

"You filthy bitch, why are you telling me your pathetic life story?! I didn't ask about your mother or your ridiculous tragedy… I asked: why did you become a puppet? So answer me… before I cut your strings with my own hands."

Cleo gasped at his harsh tone, like someone who had suffocated and then came back to life. She began to cry, but her tears dried instantly when she saw Faithless's terrifying smile.

"Oh my God, are these fake tears?" he said as he pulled the Apollo chain from his neck, slowly wrapped it around hers, and continued in a sarcastic tone:

"This is your last chance, bitch, to answer."

Cleo held the chain, and through it, she could hear terrifying whispers—satanic rituals murmured into her ears in a faint voice, as if coming from another world… a voice that touched her soul, not just her ears. She felt heat rising in her chest, her throat burning from the inside. She swallowed hard and spoke in a quiet voice:

"I committed a grave sin… I stole an expensive sword from one of the noblemen of the district leaders."

She began coughing violently, closing her eyes from the pain… When she opened them slowly, she looked at the saliva that came with the cough—it was dark red… it wasn't saliva, it was blood.

Her eyes trembled in horror, and she spoke to herself in an internal voice filled with panic, as if screaming from inside her own skull:

"Is this my blood? Just his presence… is making me bleed? Am I melting from his shadow alone? No… no… I don't want to die!"

Faithless tilted his head slightly, his eyes burning black with fury. He motioned for her to continue… and she spoke while staring at the bloodstain on the floor:

"So… when they found out what I'd done, the Black Order rushed to capture me. And I was subjected to t-t-terrifying torture at their hands."

She wiped her tears with a trembling hand and continued in a more fragile voice:

"I told them I—I would help them get what they wanted. A-a-and… their plan was to kidnap children and sell them… My task was to pick the next target: either I lure them, or the Black Order takes care of them."

Faithless stood up from his chair and approached her, then grabbed her hair forcefully and said in a tone as cold as ice:

"You're not just a regular puppet… you're a wound disguised as a human. Every string in you is stained with betrayal, cowardice, and the price of a child's blood."

Faithless let go of Cleo's hair, and she fell off her chair, trembling with fear… He walked toward the mayor, who was in another world entirely, drowned in the shock of what he saw in Faithless's depths and the madness that resided there… Faithless grabbed his face and began beating him with full force, until blood started to stream from the mayor's eyes, as if his soul was leaving his body, drifting in another realm.

His body groaned, but his soul seemed to writhe in a broken world, lost among screams that had no sound.

As for Cleo, she was gathering the shattered pieces of herself in fear, watching Faithless's madness as he tortured the mayor… Blood decorated Faithless's face, now stained with a twisted clownish layer… a face that didn't smile, but crept toward insanity.

Faithless stopped beating him and looked at Cleo, smiling faintly, void of any meaning.

He walked with steady steps and stood in front of her, placing his hands behind his back, speaking in a deep, sarcastic tone:

"You do have a nice trait… the way you speak, that charm of yours that could deceive anyone."

He paused for a moment, placing his finger under his chin, as if thinking… then suddenly snapped his fingers, pulled out a black knife, and continued:

"How about using this knife… and cutting those strings… by killing the mayor?"

Cleo was in shock, staring at the knife, then looking back at Faithless, who smiled aimlessly like someone watching a puppet finally start to move. He said in a cryptic tone:

"The choice is yours… either move by your own strings—or let others move you by theirs."

She stood in a deadly moment of hesitation… Should she grab the knife and end her torment? Or remain circling in place like a cold corpse?

'Is this clown giving me another chance through a twisted test? But life is one… and so is the choice…' Cleo whispered to herself.

She gripped the knife tightly, and Faithless smiled at her. Then he grabbed her by the collar and gently tossed her toward the mayor, saying in a cold tone while looking at her through his monocle:

"Seems like you chose the right option… and with that, the session is adjourned."

Faithless walked slowly, and before leaving the room, he grabbed his hat and spoke to her in a low voice:

"Saint Isaac's Village welcomes you anytime… but only after you atone for your sin."