<h4>Chapter 1</h4>


    “The holymunion is to start shortly. Will the seven freshmen representatives please report to the stage?” A voice echoed throughout the gathering hall.


    The seven representatives waiting at the edge of the stage walked up and stepped into line. Theirbined presence seemed to fill the stage to the brim.


    “Archbishop Kim Chang-Won, the Chairman of Florence Academy, will lead the ceremony. Please remain silent throughout.”


    This request was hardly necessary, as it was already dead silent in the auditorium.


    Florence Academy, also known as F.A., was established to nurture uing clergy members to cleanse the world of demons, satanists, and cultists. Florence Academy was the most recognized among the clergy academies. Being the elite school that it was, all students were known for their devout obedience to the Romanican doctrine.


    <i>Plop-</i>


    A clear sound filled the room like a single water droplet falling into a peacefulke. Momentster, a pure white halo spilled forth from the Archbishop’s hand, engulfing the Archbishop and the representatives. The blessing of the seven representatives had begun.


    Each representative was chosen to represent one of the seven heavenly virtues: humility, charity, kindness, patience, chastity, temperance, and diligence.


    I knew that most of us looking from the crowd were thinking the same thing.


    <i>‘I wish I was up there with them.’</i>


    The seven anointed with the holy names of heavenly virtue were eligible to be prtes. Prtes had ess to fame, fortune, and power unobtainable to the regr clergymen. Most students at F.A. wanted to be prtes. Because of this, most students looked at the seven representatives with adoration, envy, and jealousy.


    I, myself, wanted to be a prte. I would have cut off an arm for the Holy See if that let me be a prte. That was how desperate I was.


    Of course, everyone had their own reasons to want to be a prte, be it for fame, money or power, and so did I. But my reason was a little different from most.


    ***


    “How much do you know about the Holy War?”


    An unannounced lecture was taking ce after the end of the blessing ceremony.


    The students looked nkly back at the lecturer. A few awkward seconds of silence filled the room.


    The lecturer smiled as if to hide her embarrassment.


    “I’m sure all of you F.A. students are familiar with the Holy War. It happened seven years ago between the Voodoo Cult and the Romanican Church.”


    <i>Click!</i>


    The screen changed with a flick of the lecturer’s fingers. A simplified table detailing the timeline of the Holy War was disyed on the screen.


    The lecturer swung herser pointer as she started to exin.


    “The war started off with the Voodoo Cult’s protest. Originally, these protests were held to raise awareness of the discrimination towards Voodooists. However, they started getting out of hand and escted into a terror movement. So the Holy See sent out pdins to stop these people....”


    The rest of the lecture was obvious. One of the pdins had died trying to stop the terrorists. Unfortunately, the Voodooists did not stop their campaign despite the pdin''s death and continued terrorizing the public. The Holy See had no choice but to send the Holy Army and inquisitors to end the madness with brute force. That was how the Holy War had started.


    “... The Holy War led to many casualties, caused by the Voodoo Cult Leader and the Prophet. They used the power of lesser demons called the ‘Loa’.”


    The lecturer’s voice started to grow louder and louder.


    “The Loa were strong enough to be called demonic catastrophes. The Voodoo Cult Leader and the Prophet harnessed their power to drive people to the brink of death. However, we Romanicans resisted their attacks till the very end.”


    The lecturer’s face was flushed red as she passionately exploited the evils and wrongdoingsmitted by the Voodooists.


    By this time, I was asleep. I’d heard this story repeatedly and deemed it not worth my time to listen to it again. I also nned to make up for myck of sleep because I had struggled to fall asleepst night.


    After resting my eyes, I found the lecturer no longer on the stage but amongst the students. In fact, she was standing in front of me, a smile on her face, staring into my eyes.


    “And what’s your name?” she asked, cing the mic next to my mouth.


    Everyone’s eyes were on me. I felt a little queasy. I somehow cleared my throat and opened my mouth.


    “My name is Do Sun-Woo.”


    “Sun-Woo! You seemed to be taking a good nap. Can you tell us about how the Holy War ended?” she asked with a grin. I could hear the muffled snickering of the students around me.


    I regretted dozing off. I would not have fallen asleep if I had known that I would be found out.


    “After countless sacrifices, the Romanicans emerged victorious. The Second Cult Leader and Prophet were executed, the Voodooists became an official cult, and the Holy See is still looking for the Third Cult Leader, who they believe is out there. Am I right?”


    I was d that I could answer the lecturer''s question.


    The lecturer looked back at me with surprise. The snickering around me turned to surprised signs of admiration from the students.


    “You are exactly right! I guess you were bored for a good reason!”


    The lecturer said jokingly as she made her way back up the stage.


    “The Third Cult Leader is hiding, scheming, and implementing his evil ns. The Holy See is....”


    The lecturer continued her conspiracies about the Third Cult Leader and the Holy See.


    The lecture shortly after came to an end. Many students yawned as they got up, piling towards the auditorium''s exit. The opening ceremony concluded with the end of the lecture ‘Developing Proper History Knowledge through Reviewing the Holy War.’


    ***


    As I walked toward my home, I was greeted by a familiar alley. I saw broken trash bags at the foot of telephone poles and scribble-filled, vandalized walls. I slowly took in the unpleasant scenery as I walked by. This alley was a necessary stop on my way back home.


    As the blue sky was slowly painted red, I saw a man hunched over by a telephone pole, riddled with rubbish. I recognized him; he was the old cripple who regrly hung out around the area. I reached into my wallet and pulled out a ten thousand won bill, cing it into the can in front of him.


    “Thank.... Thank you very much....” The crippled old man said as he bowed his head, almost touching the ground. I waved my hands to say it was nothing and quickly walked away.


    [You waste your money.]


    Far away, I saw two well-built men walking toward me. They were both wearing white clothes patterned with yellow crosses. From their looks, they seemed to be pdins responsible for peacekeeping in the surrounding area.


    The two spotted me and quickly approached me.


    The bigger and more intimidating one out of the two asked, “Hey kid, do you walk through this alley often?”


    “Uh, yes,” I answered.


    “Is that so? Then have you seen who put up these flyers?” The pdin took out a piece of paper. On a rainbow background, a hard-to-read font said ‘Come be a Voodooist and take home a Tablet PC.’


    “No, I don’t think so,” I replied.


    “Yeah? Have you seen these flyers before?”


    “Nope, I’ve never seen them before. Are there still Voodooists around?” I asked with an innocent face.


    The pdin smiled knowingly.


    “I want to say no, but seeing these flyers, I guess it’s hard to say they are gone for good,” he said.


    “I see,” I replied with a slight nod.


    The pdin scrutinized me through squinted eyes.


    “Are you a student from F.A.?” he asked.


    “Yeah, I just enrolled,” I said.


    “Ah, I see. I guess we might meet in the future, hahaha. Good luck with your studies.”


    “Thank you!” I replied, bowing respectfully. The pdin still had his kind smile and waved.


    As the pdin''s back faded into the distance, I whipped out my handkerchief to wipe off my sweaty temples.


    [Perfect acting, as always. It’s in your blood.]


    I brushed off the booming voice inside my head. But the voice got louder and louder the more I ignored it.


    [How long are you nning to ignore me?]


    [There were a lot of problems with the lecture at the opening ceremony. The Romanicans are the best when ites to fabricating lies. We have a lot to say about this.]


    “...” I kept my silence and continued my walk home.


    A few momentster, I found myself in front of a dark, ck set of stairs that seemed to stretch into the void below. My housey below these stairs.


    As I passed through the darkness and slowly descended, I reached into my bag. I must have put it here somewhere...


    [There were four lies told in the lecture today.]


    “Yeah, I know,” I replied.


    Aha. I took out a mask from my bag and brushed the dust off. The mask was an off-white color, weathered by time. It gave off the characteristic smell of cleaned bone.


    [First of all, the Loa are not demons. We are noble Voodoo elementals.]


    I put on my mask and made sure it was secured fastly.


    [Second of all, the Voodooist Cult Leader and Prophet did not kill anyone.]


    [Thirdly—]


    “The Voodooist Cult leader died. But the Prophet is still alive and is being held hostage in the underground prison below the Holy See headquarters,” I said, finishing their sentence. I took off my uniform and put on my prepared clothes.


    I resumed walking down the stairs. After a while, I finally saw a door with slivers of light seeping out the side.


    [Lastly, the fourth lie.]


    I opened the door and stepped into the light.


    “WOOOOOOOOO!!!!!”


    Immediately, an uproar of screams and cheers erupted. Of course, these cheers were for me.


    “Our Leader has returned to enlighten us!”


    I took the microphone from the high priest, and I slowly warmed up my voice.


    [The Third Cult Leader has no evil ns, and he’s not as bad as people think. No, he’s a goodie two-shoes that feels bad for crippled beggars and even gives them money.]


    I brought the microphone close to my mouth.


    “Hello, everyone. I hope you’ve been well. It is I, your Leader.”


    “WAAAAAAAAAA—--!!!!”


    Another round of cheers rocked the air. It seemed loud enough to shake the foundations of the world.


    [However, he is crazy enough to enroll in F.A. while being a Cult Leader.] The voice stopped with thatment.


    The voices were the Loa. They were Voodoo elementals holding tremendous power, rivaling that of gods.


    My father had been the Second Cult Leader, and my mother was the Prophet who took care of the Loa.


    But my father had died, and my mother was in chains.


    “Let’s start the service.”


    I was the Third Cult Leader and the Prophet of the Loa.


    I was public enemy number one.