The door the High Priest led her to looked ordinary enough - polished wood, brass handle, no glow or sigils to mark it as holy.
Yet the moment Serenya and the High Priest stepped through, the world shifted.
Her breath hitched as her boots pressed down onto the soft grass.
They stood on the peak of Mount Liora, and yet not a single stone or jagged cliff marred the view.
Instead, a carpet of green stretched across the summit, broken by trees all bearing fruit - some ripe, some blooming, most out of season.
Vines crawled over their trunks, spilling grapes and berries far beyond their season.
Beyond the peak, clouds rolled beneath them, stretching to every horizon like a white sea.
And above, the sun blazed, yet its warmth fell soft and golden.
The air smelled faintly of blossoms and rain, so pure it almost stung her lungs.
A pond glimmered ahead with water so clear it looked like polished glass.
Colorful fish swam in it in slow circles, their scales flashing like jewels.
At its center stood a small wooden gazebo with a bridge of pale planks.
And just beyond, tucked against a grove of trees, sat a cabin.
The kind of home that belonged in a fairy tale for children.
Serenya froze at the threshold, her heart hammering in her chest.
Looking back at the stunned Serenya, the High Priest let out another chuckle.
He was enjoying her reactions.
Gesturing with his arm toward the heaven-on-earth scene, he said, "Behold, child… You stand in our goddess's abode. This is where she lived when she walked the mortal realm."
Serenya inhaled sharply.
This was the moment - the honor every member of the Church dreamed of: to ascend to the Fifth Floor.
But this… this was beyond imagination.
To think she now stood where her goddess once stood.
To breathe the air her goddess once breathed.
That was the moment her composer broke.
Tears welled in her eyes as she closed them, inhaling as deeply as her lungs allowed.
And she savored it all.
The gentle rays of the sun, the birdsong echoing across the clouds, the hush of water in the pond ahead.
When she opened her eyes again, her gaze burned with resolve and reverence.
"Thank you… thank you for this day."
The High Priest gave a small nod with a smile tugging at his lips, before turning toward the cabin.
"Come now. I brought you here for a reason."
Serenya followed, her steps ginger as though afraid her plated boots might wound the holy grass.
At the cabin's threshold, the High Priest paused, and his voice grew solemn.
"Now, wait here."
"Yes, sir."
He stepped inside, leaving her in the stillness.
Serenya stood like a statue, not daring to move a muscle.
Yet her eyes darted ceaselessly, burning every detail into her memory.
She couldn't believe she was here.
Before her goddess's abode.
Her mind stumbled at the thought: that Liora had once stood here, that she might have sipped tea in the gazebo just a few steps away, slept in this cabin that now stood before her.
And yet, another thought struck her.
She had expected a castle or a temple of gold and marbel, or the very least a mansion.
But no.
A small smile bloomed on her face.
"This is the goddess I worship," she whispered, proud as she had ever been.
She had always imagined her goddess dwelling in a celestial palace larger than Cardella itself.
But, not that she thought about it, her goddess had never needed luxury, nor gold, or precious stones.
"Why would the very personification of Heroes, of Valor, of Guardianship, of New Dawn and Motherhood - would need a castle?"
The cabin door creaked open.
And the High Priest stepped out, carrying in his hands a Soul Armament.
"Does it look familiar to you?" he asked, his voice softer now, yet carrying the weight of a boulder.
Serenya's breath caught.
She understood at once.
This was the moment - he had broken every rule the Church held sacred just by bringing her here, just by letting her see this.
The weapon he held was sleek, and alien in design.
Mostly black, its shape was unlike any blade, bow, or staff she had ever seen.
A smooth, precise thing of intricate craftsmanship.
Her heart thudded in her chest.
"That's it!" Serenya gasped. "The Soul Armaments Odin carried... they looked exactly like this one! Just… different sizes."
The words tumbled out in shock.
And the High Priest closed his eyes, drawing in a long breath as though the weight of history itself pressed on his chest.
"The Goddess of Heroes…" he began, voice heavy, "…she sent her greatest one to -"
But he stopped.
The words choked back before they could leave his throat, locked away behind duty.
Some truths were too heavy to hand over, even here, even to Serenya.
Serenya's eyes widened anyway, the fragments enough to ignite her thoughts as her pulse roared in her ears.
And if Odin had been standing there at that very moment, he would've snatched the black contraption from the priest's hands with a grin, saying…
"That's my MK18!"