In the dark dawn, priests woke up one by one to head to the chapel for prayer. Before the sun had even risen, a blue darkness lay low over the entire monastery, and only the candles lit along the long corridors left thin traces of light on the stone floor.

No one made a loud noise. Only the sound of footsteps not yet fully awake, the rustle of robes, and the faint friction of rosary beads hitting each other filled the silent hallway. The priests entered the chapel in their familiar order and took their respective seats. The old wooden chairs creaked lowly as they accepted the weight, and the candles on the altar flickered in the dawn air, dimly illuminating the golden icons.

One by one, heads were bowed. The world was still asleep, but they called upon the name of God before starting their day. Some sought forgiveness, some prayed for faith that would not waver today. Others simply folded their hands without saying a word. There was also someone who sought God with their lips while harboring a completely different name in their heart.

People knelt before God while harboring the things they most wanted to hide, and chanted Amen while ultimately failing to utter the things they most wanted to say. In the dawn chapel, holiness and guilt coexisted strangely.

And, as always, one seat was empty. It was clearly Guest, who was either oversleeping again or being lazy despite already being awake. Seraphiel gritted his teeth, suppressed his temper, quietly left the chapel, and headed toward Guest's room.

The room assigned to Guest was modest, but its status was befitting a Cardinal. Excessively flashy decorations were excluded, but a small prayer desk wrapped in dark red fabric stood by the bed, and sacred paintings embroidered with gold thread and old Latin prayers were hung neatly on the walls. A silver candlestick and a holy oil jar were placed side by side by the window, and the dawn light, before the sun had risen, was faintly seeping through the gaps in the thick curtains.

What broke that silence wasn't even a knock. With the dull sound of a doorknob turning, Seraphiel entered the room as if it were nothing, and he immediately pulled back the curtains to wake the sleep-drunken Guest. As the murky dawn light hit the bed, Guest frowned and burrowed deeper into the blankets.