Desires & Heresy

The first thing Zane noticed was the scent of aged parchment and melting candle wax. The second was the sheer wrongness of his body.

He jerked upright, his fingers clawing at the stiff fabric clinging to his chest—a priest's robe? His pulse pounded as his mind scrambled for clarity, but instead of finding the familiar, all he got was a name that didn't belong to him.

Elias Verdan.

A wave of memories crashed over him. Rituals, prayers, kneeling before an altar. A life of devotion, of servitude. Not his life.

"Welcome, Host."

The voice was silk over steel, a whisper that coiled in his thoughts like a serpent. Before Zane could react, a translucent screen unfurled before his eyes.

[HOLY CORRUPTION SYSTEM (ACTIVATED)]

> [Mission: Corrupt a Holy Sister (Celeste)]

> [Reward: Silver Tongue]

Zane's lips curled. Well. This was new.

The chapel was quiet at this hour, the kind of silence that pressed against the ears and made every breath feel like blasphemy. Zane—Elias—moved with the grace of someone who didn't belong but had every intention of making himself comfortable. His new body was lean, strong, subtly powerful beneath the modest robes.

He caught his reflection in a polished brass candelabrum—deep amber eyes, tousled dark brown hair, a face that could belong to either a saint or a devil. 

Perfect.

Then, he saw her.

Sister Celeste.

Sister Celeste knelt before the altar, bathed in the warm flicker of candlelight. Her silver-white braid unraveled down the curve of her back, a delicate contrast against the soft, pale fabric of her robes. The cloth clung just enough to hint at the supple shape beneath—her full, perky chest rising and falling with each quiet breath, a narrow waist accentuating the gentle swell of her hips.

Her thick thighs pressed together beneath the modest folds of her robes, trembling ever so slightly as she shifted, as if instinctively guarding a secret even she wasn't ready to admit. Innocence radiated from her—delicate hands folded in prayer, lips parted in whispered devotion. Yet, the way her chest subtly heaved, the way her fingers tensed when a stray breeze kissed her exposed neck... it told another story entirely.

She had no idea how sinful she looked in that moment, how even her mere presence could so easily tempt a lesser man.

Unfortunately for her, Zane was no lesser man.

He stepped forward. "Sister Celeste."

She gasped softly, her lashes fluttering as she turned to face him. "Father Elias! I—I didn't hear you approach."

Zane tilted his head, watching the way she fidgeted, her fingers twisting in her lap. Innocence. Fragility. A mind that wanted to believe, but a heart that had already begun to doubt.

The system's voice slithered into his mind.

[Target: Sister Celeste] 

[Corruption Level: 0%]

Not for long.

He crouched beside her, close enough that she could feel his presence but not enough to spook her. "You seemed deep in thought. A troubled mind?"

Celeste's brows knitted, and for a moment, she hesitated. Then, she exhaled softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Sometimes, I feel… lost."

Zane made a sound of understanding, his gaze never leaving her face. "The burden of faith is not light, is it?"

Celeste looked away, her hands tightening around the rosary she clutched. 

[Corruption Progress: 2%]

A slow smirk tugged at Zane's lips.

This was going to be too easy.

Zane remained silent, letting Celeste's own thoughts do the work for him. Doubt was like a crack in glass—once it appeared, it only spread. And she had just admitted to feeling lost.

He leaned in slightly, letting his voice drop to something softer, more intimate. "Tell me, Sister… what is it that troubles you?"

Celeste hesitated, her teeth catching her lower lip for the briefest moment before she forced herself to speak. "I—It's nothing, really. Just… moments of weakness."

Zane tilted his head, his amber eyes sharp, reading her. Weakness. A holy woman admitting weakness in her faith? That wasn't nothing.

"Doubt is natural," he murmured, his tone laced with quiet understanding. "Even the most devout feel it at times."

Celeste inhaled sharply, her hands tightening around the rosary. "…But we must resist it."

Zane chuckled, low and knowing. "Must we?"

Her head snapped toward him, blue eyes widening in surprise. "O-Of course," she stammered. "Doubt is a test. We must overcome it, not give in."

He let her words hang in the air, savoring the way her voice lacked the conviction she desperately tried to maintain. She didn't fully believe her own words. Not anymore.

Good.

Zane exhaled, a carefully measured sound that was just enough to make her feel like he had some heavy burden of his own. He cast his gaze downward, feigning contemplation. "Tell me, Sister… have you ever wondered why doubt exists at all?"

Celeste blinked. "I—I suppose it is a trial of faith."

"Or," he mused, his voice like silk sliding over steel, "perhaps it's not meant to be resisted at all. Perhaps doubt is the whisper of truth, breaking through the silence of blind devotion."

Her lips parted, but no words came out. She was staring at him now, her expression caught between curiosity and something far more dangerous. A spark of forbidden thought.

[Corruption Progress: 5%]

Zane smiled inwardly. 

That's right. Think about it.

He let the moment stretch, watching the emotions flicker across her face—confusion, hesitation… intrigue. She had never heard someone speak of doubt this way. And the fact that it came from a priest? That made it all the more seductive.

"Faith is beautiful," he continued smoothly, watching her reaction. "But is it truly faith… if one is not allowed to question it?"

Celeste swallowed. "I… I don't…"

She was unraveling, and she didn't even realize it.

Zane allowed himself a slow, knowing smile—just enough to make her feel like he understood something she didn't. Then, without another word, he stood, offering her his hand.

For a moment, she hesitated. But then—she reached out.

Her fingers brushed against his, and Zane did nothing to pull away. Instead, he held her touch just a heartbeat longer than necessary. Lingering.

Celeste's breath caught, and she quickly withdrew her hand, cheeks burning. "I—I should go."

Zane inclined his head. "Of course, Sister."

She turned, nearly stumbling in her haste to leave, her steps quick, flustered. But just before she disappeared through the chapel doors, she glanced back.

Just for a second.

[Celeste Corruption: 5%]

[Mission Progress: Initiated]

[Progression Reward: +5 Charm]

Zane's smirk widened.

Let the game begin.