"Fortunately, however, the Omniscient and Almighty Lord has never left us."
As the Saintess of Light's words fell, the images upon the curtain continued to shift. Amid raging flames, a holy knight wielding a sword of light cleaved through the blazing waves from the depths of darkness, dispersing the veil woven from ash and blood.
Monica straightened. Brilliant sunlight stretched the shadow of the pure-white ribbon draped over her arm, while two long, delicate legs clad in white silk emerged through the slit beneath her nun's habit and gracefully drew together as she spoke.
Lyra Beckett, the Holy Light's Knight, once condemned as a usurper by the former Pope of Light, Hebrew, is actually the Chosen One under the watchful gaze of the Omniscient Lord.
Her voice was clear and bright, mingling with the crisp ring of metal heels against the floor.
