Infinity: Kill your way through the movie world.

Castio froze, still in the stabbing motion.

The sensation of the dagger, the rapid loss of his warm life, and Jane's last look... were branded onto his soul like a mark.

He wasn't inexperienced in killing, but this time was different. He was like a novice, his stomach churning, and he almost vomited.

Metatron quickly stepped forward.

With one hand maintaining Jane's restraint, he quickly placed the other hand on the hilt of the dagger and whispered an extremely ancient and difficult incantation.

The dim patterns on the dagger began to glow slightly.

Then something truly chilling happened.

The clothing covering Jane's chest, near her heart, silently melted away, leaving a neat, round hole that revealed her pale skin underneath.

The skin then felt as if it had been cut open by an invisible scalpel, but there was no bleeding.

A fist-sized object, pulsating slightly and emitting a strange blend of pale gold and fleshy pink light, was slowly lifted out of the wound by an invisible force.

This is the heart of the Nephilim.

It is neither a complete human heart nor the energy core of an angel, but a half-flesh, half-energy object formed by the forced fusion of the two, defying common sense.

It emanates a faint but pure energy fluctuation, and a lingering lamentation of life that has been forcibly severed.

Metatron caught the still-beating heart in a lead box that had been prepared beforehand and was engraved with sealing runes.

The lid clicked shut, cutting off all smell and light.

Almost the instant the box was closed, Jane's body lost its last bit of life, lying limp and lifeless.

She looked like an ordinary girl who had just fallen asleep from exhaustion, except for the tiny wound on her neck where the bloodstains were barely visible and the eerie hole in her chest.

Metatron didn't even glance at the corpse on the ground, and quickly put away the lead box.

He turned to Castio, who remained frozen, his face ashen, his eyes staring blankly at his hands and the dagger, which were stained with a small amount of some unknown liquid.

“First trial complete. Congratulations, Castio.” Metatron’s voice returned to calm, even carrying a hint of almost imperceptible…satisfaction.

“You have proven your resolve and loyalty to the order, though the process was difficult, it was the necessary price. Clean up, we must leave. The trial continues.”

He raised his hand and waved it. An invisible force swept over Jane's corpse on the ground, along with her fallen belongings and the faint traces of energy remaining in the air, all of which disappeared without a trace, as if erased by an eraser.

Even the memories of the elderly couple at the next table seemed to have been slightly altered; they merely glanced at the suddenly empty corner with a puzzled look before continuing to eat with their heads down.

Castio mechanically followed Metatron out of the restaurant.

The doorbell rang again.

The noise of the street outside and the cold wind hit him in the face, making him shiver.

He looked down at his empty hands, which felt as heavy as a thousand pounds. The cold touch of the dagger and the disgusting, slippery feeling of warm blood still lingered on his fingertips.

Metatron handed the dagger back to him.

"Keep this safe, you'll need it later."

Castio numbly accepted it; the dagger in his hand felt even colder and more piercing than before.

He completed the first step of the trial.

He killed an innocent Nephilim who only wanted to live.

For heaven.

For the sake of order. For…atonement?
But why... is that emptiness in my heart colder and bigger than before?

Metatron had already taken a few steps ahead. He turned back to look at him, his eyes deep: "Come on, Castio. The real test may have just begun."

The night swallowed the restaurant's warm yellow lights, and also swallowed everything that had just happened.

Only deep within Castio's soul did the sound of something shattering echo silently.

Houston, Texas.

The heat wave hadn't completely subsided by night, and the air was thick with a mixture of smells of oil, barbecue spices, and car exhaust.

Neon lights formed a flowing river of light along the wide streets, and huge electronic billboards flickered, illuminating the hurried or intoxicated crowds.

Castio stood outside a bar called 'Whispers of the Lone Star,' seemingly out of place amidst the surrounding hustle and bustle.

His face appeared even paler under the neon lights, and Jane's desperate eyes, like a ghost, would flash through his mind from time to time, making his stomach churn.

He gripped the ancient dagger tightly in his hand. It was spotless, but he could still smell a faint, sweet and fishy odor.

The smell seemed unstoppable, relentlessly pushing its way into his nostrils.

Metatron walked up from behind, glanced at Castio's tense profile, and said in a steady voice, "Relax, Castio."

"The first trial is always the most difficult; it tests your resolve to cast aside weak emotions and obey the higher law. You did very well."

“Very good?” Castio repeated in a low voice, his gaze unfocused as he looked at a couple embracing across the street. “I killed someone who didn’t resist and just wanted to live.”

“No, you’ve only removed a piece of rotten flesh that threatens the overall health,” Metatron corrected, his tone carrying an unquestionable authority. “Guilt is an unnecessary burden. Remember that we are here for a greater purpose: to mend the rift in Heaven. The second trial will be different; it will be more…gentle.”

Castio finally turned his head: "What is the second trial?"

“Get Cupid’s arrow.” Metatron pushed open the bar’s wooden door, and a wave of heat mixed with alcohol, sweat, cheap perfume and tobacco hit him, accompanied by deafening country music and noisy voices.

"According to ancient records, Cupid's arrows contain a special power that can penetrate barriers and connect emotions. At this moment when trust in Heaven has collapsed, we need this power to rebuild the broken bonds of trust between angels."

How to get a bow and arrow?

Castio's heart skipped a beat.

That does sound much simpler.

He followed Metatron into the bar, and the heavy sense of guilt in his heart seemed to ease slightly as a result.

Perhaps not all trials are bloody.

Perhaps he can actually start fixing things instead of just destroying them.

The bar was dimly lit, with colorful rotating light balls casting mesmerizing spots of light on the ceiling.

People crowded around the long bar or gathered around small round tables, talking and laughing loudly, clinking glasses and drinking heartily.

The air was stuffy and thick with smoke.

Castio frowned uncomfortably; he didn't like this kind of purely sensory stimulation, even somewhat vulgar noise.

Metatron seemed to know the place well. He led Castio through the crowd to a relatively secluded booth that offered a view of most of the bar.

Then I ordered a whiskey without ice and a glass of water for Castillo.

"Who are we waiting for?" Castio asked. (End of Chapter)