INT. HOLY KNIGHT OUTPOST – INFIRMARY – DAY
The room is dimly lit. Rows of beds line the walls, occupied by injured knights. Zayne lies unconscious on one of them, his body wrapped in thick blankets. Frost still clings to his skin, his lips pale and cracked.
Mira sits beside his bed, her gaze hollow. Dark circles hang beneath her eyes, and her hands tremble as she clasps them together.
Two Holy Knight commanders stand at the foot of the bed, murmuring to one another. Mira listens, but her eyes remain fixed on Zayne.
"He overdid it," one of the commanders says, shaking his head. "A forbidden technique... he's lucky to be alive."
The other commander crosses his arms, frowning. "Lucky? He can't use meditation anymore. His spirit and body... they've been severed. That bridge is broken."
Mira's hands clench into fists, knuckles white. The words sting, echoing in her mind.
⸻
Footsteps approach.
Mira lifts her head to see the head commander, a stern, battle-worn man named Sir Galahad, enter the room. His eyes scan the damage before settling on Mira.
"Mira," Galahad says, voice low. "Come with me."
Mira hesitates, glancing back at Zayne. His chest rises and falls, each breath shallow. Then, she forces herself to stand and follows Galahad out of the infirmary.
⸻
INT. HOLY KNIGHT OUTPOST – STRATEGY ROOM – MOMENTS LATER
Maps and reports clutter the table. Mira stands rigidly across from Galahad, who regards her with a hard, unyielding gaze.
"What happened out there?" Galahad asks.
Mira swallows, her throat tight. "We were sent to eliminate a monster. But... it wasn't a monster. It was Lyle. Or... what was left of him."
Galahad's eyes narrow. "Explain."
Mira's jaw clenches, her hands trembling. "He was possessed. Consumed by something. Something powerful. He called himself Envy."
Galahad's expression darkens, but he maintains his calm. "And Bran?"
Mira looks away, tears welling in her eyes. "Zayne... he had no choice. Bran was already... gone. Whatever that thing was, it had taken him completely."
Galahad sighs heavily, rubbing his temples. "And Zayne?"
Mira's fists tighten. "He used a forbidden technique. Frozen World. It's... it's destroyed his connection to his spirit."
Galahad leans back, a cold, haunted look in her eyes. "Damn it."
⸻
Silence stretches between them. Mira's eyes fall to the floor.
Galahad leans forward, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Mira. Listen to me carefully. What you encountered out there... it's not a monster. It's a Sin."
Mira blinks, confused. "A... Sin?"
Galahad nods grimly. "There are seven of them. They target those already consumed by their darkest desires. Envy, Wrath, Greed... they amplify those emotions until the host is nothing but a shell. Once a Sin takes control, there's no saving the host."
Mira's fists tremble. "So... we were never meant to fight that thing. We were just... expendable."
Galahad's eyes harden. "You weren't supposed to encounter it. Only the Black Order handles Sins. They're the only ones trained to deal with them. But now..."
He looks away, his expression heavy. "Now you know too much."
⸻
INT. INFIRMARY – NIGHT
The room is silent. Zayne's eyes flutter open. His vision is blurred, and his body is heavy.
Mira is still sitting beside him, her head bowed, eyes red and swollen. When she notices him stirring, she forces a shaky smile.
"Zayne..."
Zayne blinks slowly, his gaze distant. "Mira... Bran... is he...?"
Mira bites her lip, tears brimming once more. "You... you saved us."
Zayne closes his eyes, the memory of Bran's lifeless eyes flashing through his mind. "I killed him."
Mira reaches for his hand, gripping it tightly. "You had no choice. That... thing... it wasn't Bran anymore."
Zayne pulls his hand away, staring at the ceiling. "But I still killed him."
⸻
A long, painful silence hangs between them. Then, Zayne speaks again, voice hollow.
"Mira... I can't feel it anymore."
Mira frowns, confused. "Feel what?"
Zayne lifts a trembling hand, staring at it as if it were a stranger's. "The connection. My spirit. My energy. It's... it's gone."
Mira's heart sinks. "No... Zayne..."
Zayne's face contorts, anguish breaking through his stoic mask. "I'm useless now. A Holy Knight who can't use meditation... I'm nothing."
Mira's tears spill over. "Zayne, don't say that. You're still—"
"I'm nothing!" Zayne shouts, voice cracking. "I couldn't save Bran... and now... now I can't even fight."
⸻
Mira bows her head, unable to meet his eyes.
Zayne turns away, his chest rising and falling in rapid, shallow breaths. The frost still clings to his skin, a haunting reminder of the price he paid to stop Envy.
Mira wipes her tears, her expression hardening. "Then I'll fight for both of us."
Zayne's eyes widen, but he says nothing.
Mira stands, fists clenched. "I don't care how many Sins there are. I won't let what happened to Bran happen again. I swear it."
⸻
CUT TO: INT. STRATEGY ROOM – NIGHT
Elda stares at a map, her finger tracing over several marked locations. Each one is marked with a black X — the sites of recent mysterious deaths.
A shadowy figure steps forward, their face obscured by a hood.
"What's your assessment?" Galahad asks.
The figure speaks, their voice calm and unnervingly emotionless. "Envy was already injured Thats the only reason they could beat it. But the remaining Sins are growing stronger. We need to act quickly."
Galahad nods, eyes narrowing. "Then let the Black Order know. The Sins are moving. And we're running out of time."
THE END
"Thanks for reading, if you enjoyed this then go check out more of my work, I will be releasing more stand alone stories for quick reads. Also I'm working on a novel series around this world, it will spam multiple worlds and culture, so keep an eye out for that"
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