December 25th. Christmas. 

The perfect day to remember everything that made him happy and enjoy sharing gifts with his loved ones. 

Then. Why couldn't he smile?

The smile he wore while decorating the tree with his wife or the laugh he let out at his best friend's jokes were a mask that protected him from uncomfortable questions. 

Or at least that was the intention, because despite his best efforts, Genevieve always knew when there was something wrong with him.Stefan could see the disapproving grimace on her face every time he denied having a problem. Still she didn't say anything. 

Sometimes the silence was worse than the questions. When the noise disappeared, the images of the names of the members in danger forming on his wrist and the lifeless body of Mrs. Brener came back to haunt him.

At least in Umbra it didn't snow in December, otherwise he would have been captured by melancholy. Stefan preferred it that way, Christmas in summer. It made his walks through the village easier, like that morning when he went with Genevieve to church.

"Thank you for coming." Father Zenkin welcomed them in his office. "I'm glad you're able to join the community at mass today. But I'm afraid that's not the only reason I invited you." 

At first, when he received the invitation, Stefan thought about turning down. He hadn't attended Mass in years, he wasn't interested either, but Genevieve reminded him that sometimes it's not about what his beliefs are but about sharing a moment that's important to others. 

"I'm surprised, your message sounded like it was just about the mass," he confessed. "What happened?"

"I received this letter three nights ago." The priest passed a red envelope across the table. "I heard a knock against the door of my house, I went out to see who it was and I found this on the floor." 

Stefan took the envelope, it had Father Zenkin's name written on the back. He opened it. The white paper he found inside had red spots around the edges. In the center was written with newspaper clippings: "If you continue to support the Protectors you can say goodbye to your beloved community."

"It has to be Peters," said Stefan. "Is this the first time you've been threatened?" 

"I don't have a single doubt about it, no one else would send a message like that one. I heard that his followers are attacking people in the streets." He took the letter back. "Yes, it's the first time they contacted me and I didn't get any other messages after that one." 

"Did something happen to your people after the threat?" Genevieve joined the conversation. 

"No. I'm afraid they must be planning something and that's why I need your help." 

Stefan looked up at the ceiling. "I'm not in charge of the Protectors anymore, I can't order them to help you but I'll ask Momotaro to take care of it, he's the new leader." 

"Thank you, that's more than enough." Father Zenkin rose from his seat. "Now it's time for me to go prepare for mass." 

"Of course, we'll go to find a seat." Genevieve gave him a smile.

Stefan thought that he had already seen the happier version of the community the day of his visit to arrange training. 

He was wrong. 

Just walking through the parish gate, he found a group of young people laughing as they handed out Christmas cards to the newcomers. Near the altar, the choir practiced the songs full of energy and their joy was contagious to those present who joined in the singing. 

He and Genevieve received several well-wishing greetings. It seemed almost everyone inside the building wanted to wish them a merry Christmas. Several of them even thanked him for helping them during the eclipse. 

"They really know how to share the holiday spirit," his wife commented as they took a seat in one of the middle pews. 

"I don't think I've seen such joy since the eclipse."

The time to start the mass arrived. Stefan no longer remembered what he should do, the last time he participated in a mass was the same year of his first communion, after that he never showed interest in the religion. His mother never stopped insisting that he accompany her to the church in her town, luckily for him his father wasn't a believer and defended his decision. 

As the first song grew from the choir invading the entire space, he remembered his mother's smile, she would have loved to be there. 

Stefan felt a familiar warmth in his right hand, out of habit he squeezed back Genevieve's hand. He didn't need to turn his head to know that she was smiling. Perhaps it had been a good idea to accept the invitation, despite not sharing the beliefs he could experience the joy that he thought no longer existed in the village.

The song ended, giving way to the silence that took over the room for a minute. 

A thunderous sound interrupted the ceremony. Stefan turned around looking for the cause of the noise. He blinked, when he opened his eyes the church door went flying into the air.

Dust and smoke covered the air from the entrance. Barely visible, a group of figures stepped through the doorway, sparks danced around them, setting fire to whatever stood in their path. 

"We gave you a warning," one of them sang in a mocking tone. "You chose to ignore it so we have no choice but to destroy you. Merry Christmas by the way."

The sparks landed on a man in the last pews. His body caught fire. The agonized screams made the rest of the community react. They started running down the aisle, screaming for their lives as they pushed the others away. 

Spikes flew through the air and stuck into the bodies of desperate people, the spikes pierced the necks of those who were less lucky, killing them instantly.

They were desperate, none of them tried to defend themselves despite the fact that Stefan remembered some of their faces from training. If they wanted to survive they had to do more than run, they had to fight. 

He looked at Genevieve, without a word being said to her as she began to walk into the crowd, her hand glowing with power. 

"Everyone who knows how to fight come with me. The rest stay close to my wife!" Stefan yelled, stopping in the center of the church. "This is no time to despair. Show them that you're not as weak as they think you're."

The parishioners' run gained purpose, it was no longer about circling the only exit, they ran organized following the indications. 

A group of mostly young children and the elderly found refuge under Genevieve's shield. With the area clear, the rest were able to start the counterattack. 

Crystals fell from a black hole from the ceiling. Stefan spread his ink over his head, avoiding being hit. But not everyone reacted as quickly as he did, the crystals stuck into the heads and shoulders of several of those present. He heard them fall, joining the vast amount of lifeless bodies that decorated the ground. 

There was no time to stop and think about the losses, he had to focus on eliminating the threat. Stefan reduced the size of the shield that he moved to protect his chest, with the rest of the ink he created spikes and threw them towards the outstretched arms of the man in the lead. The enemy let out a cry of pain as he lowered his hands. The hole with the crystals closed.

"Go. Now." He screamed. 

The defense was deployed. Power against power collided in a spectacle filled with blood, explosions and death. 

The sparks flashed once more, one of them fluttering towards Stefan, he managed to deflect it with his shield, the spark continued to fly until it set fire to the woman fighting to his right. 

They multiplied, suddenly the parish was filled with sparks. Stefan stepped further into the battlefield. The smoke made the search difficult, he couldn't follow the sparks back to their owner. A blizzard blew up behind him, pushing the smoke toward the entrance. 

Out of the corner of his eye he recognized the source of the wind, a huge paper fan carried by an old woman. Genevieve had opened the shield for a moment to allow her to use her power.

Stefan found the source of the explosions. From his position, he sent a large part of his ink in the direction of the woman. The dark liquid passed through the floor until it reached its target and rose up, forming a box around her. Stefan clenched his fist, the black walls closing in on the enemy. He could feel her hitting the ink to try to break free. He held the prison until he stopped moving. When Stefan called the ink back to his body, the woman fell unconscious to the ground. 

The sound of alarms approached the church. The police were arriving. 

The two Bearer of Salvation members who were still standing tried to run away. Four chains flew at them, pinning them to the ground. 

"You're not going to get away after what you did," Father Jenkins said from behind Stefan, his hands outstretched to control the chains.

"No, mom!" The cry of a girl pierced the air. She lunged at her mother's still body and hugged her as her screams grew. 

The crying of the little girl was the one that started an avalanche of pleas and heartbreaking screams. Now freed from the threat, the survivors ran towards those who had lost. 

Stefan couldn't react, he was left standing in the center of the parish, surrounded by death. All he could do was think that this was just the beginning, the enemy had given them a demonstration of what they were capable of.