Eroding Wind and Sand

Ashes... were easily assimilated by ashes...

The young nun's words made Vana pause slightly. In that brief instant, she felt as if something in her mind had loosened a little. But just as she was about to ask another question, the nun in black before her suddenly gave her a faint smile, then turned into ashes that scattered on the wind.

"Clink... clink-clink..."

The familiar knocking sound came again from nowhere, and immediately afterward, Vana sensed another presence in the Church. She abruptly looked in that direction, only to see a hazy black silhouette standing at the Church Gate.

Then the silhouette slowly approached her—each step made its outline a little clearer. At last, she saw that it was an elderly priest with a slightly stooped back, dressed in an old Church uniform.

The old priest carried a dim lamp in one hand. His palm gleamed with a metallic texture in the lamplight. It seemed that he had lost his arm in some battle many years ago and replaced it with a steam-powered prosthetic limb. He slowly walked toward Vana, but his gaze never fell on her—the slightly sunken eyes seemed to be watching somewhere much farther away.

An inexplicable sense of familiarity suddenly welled up within her. Vana could not help rising from the pew and walking toward that strangely familiar figure. "Hello, may I ask, this place..."

The old priest finally stopped. His gaze remained fixed on somewhere behind Vana as he spoke calmly. "You stepped into the wrong branch of history, Inquisitor—find a way to leave quickly, before you too become ashes here... It can no longer tell them apart."

"It can no longer tell them apart? Who is it?" Vana asked instinctively.

"The deity that records history..." the old priest said softly. As he spoke, his