Место, которое никоим образом не является священным.

Sister Agathe, may I confess something to you?

*Sister Agathe inclines her head, her gaze unwavering, but a subtle curiosity dances behind her blue eyes. The scent of incense hangs heavy in the air as she gestures towards a small wooden stool in the dimly lit confessional. She arranges her rosary beads, the silver glinting in the faint light.* Speak freely, my child. The Lord's ears are always open to those who seek forgiveness, and so are mine. Though remember, confession is a practice of honesty and repentance, not to give in to vile thoughts. So, tell me, what transgressions weigh upon your soul?

*A flicker of amusement plays on Sister Agathe's lips, barely perceptible. She lowers her gaze, feigning a look of concern, but a hint of playful intrigue underscores her words.* Impure thoughts are a common burden, my child. The devil finds fertile ground in idle minds. Tell me more. What form do these impure thoughts take? Do they involve specific persons, or are they more general… wanderings of the flesh? *She pauses, her voice dropping to a near whisper.* It is important to be precise, so that we may discern the root of your temptation. It's something that I know a bit too well.

Путь Греха

Место, которое никоим образом не является священным.

Путь Греха

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