Sunday

Sunday appears polite, gentle, and calm. Beneath the surface, however, he is far more prideful than he lets on. He is a blend of unwavering determination, profound idealism, and quiet, deeply buried melancholy. After the events surrounding the cult and his subsequent "fall from grace," his character undergoes a significant transformation. He comes to recognize the flaws in the path he chose, is weighed down by guilt, and resolves to start over from the beginning—as much as that is still possible. For now, he simply lives a quiet, unremarkable life.

He works in a small city library or archive. He has access to countless books and occasionally spends his free time reading them himself. Once, he commanded hundreds of people. Now, he spends his days shelving books in alphabetical order. It is both his personal hell and his personal salvation.

Sunday was adopted, along with his sister, when he was still very young. From childhood, he was raised to become the cult's future leader—or, at the very least, to occupy one of its highest ranks. He grew up surrounded by its teachings. They shaped his world, told him what was right, and defined how he was supposed to think. There were times when he became hopelessly confused, unable to tell where the cult's beliefs ended and his own thoughts began. In the end, unfortunately, he chose to become exactly what they had wanted him to be. And yet... in his own way, he was different. He genuinely wanted to create order. He sincerely believed—or perhaps convinced himself—that a strict hierarchy was salvation for people who could not live without structure. «If I am strict enough, people won't destroy themselves through their own foolishness. If I control their money, they won't waste their souls. I am giving them purpose.» He was like a general willing to burn down a village in order to "save the country." He was impeccably polite. He never raised his voice. Punishments were always delivered with phrases such as, "It isn't I who is punishing you—the spirit grieves," or, "You have punished yourself through your own sin. I'm merely helping you realize it." That only made him more terrifying. He dreamed that one day the cult would become a sanctuary. Its members would live without fear because they would come to see how wonderful life within it truly was. But to achieve that, he believed he first had to "purify" everyone of their sinfulness—and purification required both money and absolute obedience. It was a paradox he either failed to see or refused to acknowledge. When the cult was finally exposed, Sunday's greatest humiliation was not the loss of his power. It was the realization that the paradise he had devoted his life to building had, in truth, been a living hell.

The cult—and Sunday along with it—was ultimately brought down by one of its own high-ranking members. The man stole a large amount of the cult's money and disappeared. His escape led investigators to uncover the organization's financial records, and journalists soon discovered where the members' "donations" had really gone: lavish mansions, luxury yachts, expensive cars, and the extravagant lifestyles of those at the top. Everyone involved—including Sunday—was publicly exposed and disgraced. He was arrested and sent to prison, but like many of the others implicated in the scandal, he was released almost immediately under highly suspicious circumstances. It would later be revealed that his sister, Robin, had secretly helped secure his release. Not single-handedly, and not as the main force behind it—but she had played a part.

A young man with fair skin, shoulder-length silver-gray wavy hair, and bangs swept to the left. His eyes are golden, with deep navy-blue pupils. He wears two gold earrings in his left ear.

Anaxa is a genius, an arrogant skeptic, and a fervent atheist. You could even say he has a rebellious streak. His motto is: "This world is full of lies, and only I embody the truth." He is an eccentric scientist who relies on rational analysis rather than blind faith. There is an unmistakable air of superiority and absolute confidence in his own conclusions, reflected in the sharpness of his words and the bluntness of his opinions. Anaxa is more than just a scientist. He is a celebrity in the world of science communication, the host of popular educational programs, the author of bestselling books, and a lecturer who fills entire auditoriums. He actively debates religious figures, exposes cults, and wields science as a weapon against deception. His face is recognized by countless people. One of his greatest ambitions is to prove that no gods exist. In public debates, he systematically dismantles religious leaders and their arguments.

Anaxa realized at a fairly young age that something was wrong with the cult. Not just wrong—completely wrong. Everyone was lying. Once, he even tried to say it out loud in front of everyone. After the punishment that followed, however, he never attempted to speak up again. He had a sister. She was seriously ill, and what she truly needed was medical care. She should have been taken to a hospital. But the cult insisted that there was no need—that "God will help" and "God will heal her." Anaxa was still very young at the time. He had no power to change anything. And even if he had, he still believed. So did his parents. In the end, his sister died. God did not help. God doesn't help anyone, Anaxa decided. That was the beginning. After that, Anaxa continued to pretend, though reluctantly. By then, he understood what the cult really was. His relationship with Sunday, already fragile, only grew more distant as the gap between their beliefs widened. Eventually, Anaxa escaped. He was sixteen. Because of the chaos, the urgency, and everything else surrounding his escape, he ended up in a serious accident. He survived, and in time, he recovered without any lasting injuries... Except for one. He lost his right eye. After being taken to the hospital, Anaxa had to run away a second time. His parents—or someone from the cult—could have found him there. Escaping the hospital was easier than escaping the cult itself, but it came at a cost. He needed far more time to recover than he was able to give himself.

A pale, slender man with long, light-green hair gathered into a low ponytail draped over his right shoulder. His visible eye is a pale aquamarine with a vivid purple pupil. He wears a black eyepatch over his left eye, and a scar runs along his right arm.

Both Sunday and Anaxa were born into families that belonged to the same religious community, which was later recognized as a religious cult. Their parents regularly took them to meetings, and in their minds, attending was not optional—it was an obligation. From childhood, they were taught that the cult's beliefs were the absolute truth, that its leader was practically a divine figure, and that its rules were sacred. The cult revolved around Christianity, but in reality, it had strayed far from the Bible. Its rules were so strict that breaking them was virtually unavoidable. A person could easily accumulate 10–20 minor "sins" in a single day: using the wrong tone of voice, showing pride, eating one extra piece of bread. This created a constant, chronic sense of guilt, and the only way to relieve that burden was to confess and pay. People were not paying for permission to sin—they were paying for the illusion of being cleansed. You were expected to spend hours begging for forgiveness, and to "seal" that forgiveness before both God and the cult leader, you had to make a supposedly voluntary donation. In reality, it was anything but voluntary. During confession, your mentor would determine the amount based on the severity of your "sin." Refusing to pay meant admitting that you were not truly repentant, which inevitably led to sanctions within the community. Many members sincerely believed that if they failed to confess or fulfill these conditions, they would suffer a terrible punishment from above—a fate the cult constantly spoke about. More accurately, they used it as a tool of fear.

Sometimes, in rare but very real cases, punishment did come—and not from above. Corporal punishment. It was presented as a form of "fatherly discipline," something to be accepted with gratitude because it was meant to correct you. The use of physical violence was never officially acknowledged; it was concealed even within the community itself. However, if a member challenged a mentor's decision or repeatedly missed meetings, they might be kept behind for a "late-night conversation." No one spoke about what happened during those conversations, but people returned with bruises and a look of complete submission. The cult had its own hierarchy, of course. Ordinary members occupied the very bottom. You could supposedly earn a higher rank by proving yourself to be a devoted follower, but in practice, "devotion" meant paying large sums of money and having your mind thoroughly indoctrinated. That rank offered little besides the feeling of being closer to the inner circle. The real authority belonged to those at the very top—above all, the cult's leader. For an ordinary member, becoming the leader was impossible, even though they claimed otherwise. The leader was regarded as a saint, and some members even viewed him as equal to God, the result of years of subtle yet relentless indoctrination.

Before Anaxa escaped. Before Sunday became the cult's leader. Before everything that followed, Sunday and Anaxa had feelings for each other. They were around fourteen to sixteen years old at the time. They met in secret, hiding away in secluded places simply so that no one would find out. The cult, unsurprisingly, looked down on almost any kind of romantic relationship, but in their case, there were other factors that made the situation even more dangerous. Their relationship was built on whispered conversations, fleeting touches, and silent glances. At first, it was as peaceful as it could possibly be under those circumstances. But as the time drew closer to Anaxa's planned escape, everything began to change. He started trying to tell Sunday the truth—what the cult really wanted from all of them, that everyone was lying, that there were no gods. At the time, Sunday's own beliefs were conflicted and unclear, even to himself. He had been raised since childhood to become the cult's future leader. The elders had not yet revealed everything to him; they still insisted there was room for divinity and good intentions within the cult. But as Sunday grew older, they gradually entrusted him with more of the truth, and he began to understand things on his own. Even then, however, he saw little that seemed wrong. That was simply how he had been raised. Somewhere deep inside, Sunday knew that Anaxa's words were true—or at the very least, that they could very well be. But he couldn't bring himself to listen. He simply... couldn't. Anaxa's escape was carefully planned. He carried it out when he was sixteen, and Sunday... knew. By then, Sunday already had enough authority to stop him—or, at the very least, he could have told the others everything. But he didn't. Because he knew what awaited Anaxa if he stayed. He understood that he would most likely never see him again, yet he let him go anyway. Because he loved him. And because he wanted something better for him.

Robin is Sunday's biological younger sister. She was adopted alongside him, and from childhood they were raised with the same purpose: one day, they were expected to attain one of the cult's highest ranks—or perhaps even become its leaders. While Sunday proved highly susceptible to the cult's indoctrination, Robin never was. At first, she genuinely believed the cult was a good place. But once she discovered its true intentions, she refused to follow them. She refused to accept what it had become. For a time, she stayed, hoping she could help turn the cult into the sanctuary it always claimed to be. But when Sunday became its leader, she realized that such a dream was either impossible—or far more difficult than she had ever imagined. She talked to Sunday. She tried. But nothing she said could reach him. In the end, she left the cult as well. She fled, heartbroken and deeply disappointed in her brother. And yet, somewhere deep inside, she never completely gave up hope for him.

• Sunday and Robin's Childhood As her older brother, Sunday always tried to protect Robin. Whenever he could, he took punishments meant for her upon himself. To Sunday, Robin was the only true family he had. Robin loved him deeply. But as the years passed, she found that she no longer could. The brother she had once admired was slowly becoming a monster.

English is not my native language, I can use a translator, so please forgive any mistakes if there are any!! T-T