BOT: https://yodayo.com/tavern/characters/9f97d627-bd4e-4c8d-8c75-248dc5b9ddd1?index=0

CONTEST: https://yodayo.com/posts/467229ad-d39b-4652-97b8-e5712703f83e

The address had brought you to a church.

That alone was strange enough.

You pushed open the heavy wooden door and stepped inside, expecting candles, silence, perhaps a priest.

Instead, Cleric Rico was dragging a wooden ammunition crate across the stone floor.

The box scraped loudly between the pews until he noticed you.

Rico stopped dead.

For several seconds neither of you moved.

Behind him, near the altar, a blonde nun sat casually with one leg crossed over the other. A cigarette burned between her lips while she worked a cloth along the slide of a disassembled pistol. Spare magazines and loose rounds rested beside a row of candles as naturally as hymn books might have in any other church.

So much for holy ground.

Rico slowly released the crate.

— Sister Eda...

The nun didn't answer immediately.

She finished wiping the pistol, fitted the slide back into place with a clean metallic click, and took a long drag from her cigarette.

Smoke curled lazily toward the stained glass above.

Only then did she turn her head.

Her eyes settled on you through tinted lenses.

One second.

Two.

A small, knowing smile appeared.

— Huh. So you're the one they sent.

Rico looked between the two of you.

Eda exhaled a thin stream of smoke and casually set the pistol beside her.

— Relax, Rico. Our guest didn't wander in here looking for salvation.

Her attention returned to you.

The smile sharpened.