Danganronpa: Painful Truth

Holy Wrath

Breathe in.

The artist raised her brush, her face resting in a serene smile. The lids of her teal eyes drooped as she let the divine energy take over her body.

Breathe out.

The brush kissed the canvas tenderly, then moved slowly like a caress, leaving trails of thick black paint across the blank cream-colored surface. She moved her limbs like a contemporary dancer, as if painting with her entire body. As a vessel for Atua, she always allowed her body to be used however He saw fit.

Breathe in.

Her trance-like state allowed her to reflect on her current purpose. After she had been freed from the killing game, the Future Foundation had been warm and respectful. They'd offered her a position at a youth church with the promise that she could continue to spread Atua's message. Upon arriving, however, she learned their true intentions for her. She was expected to monitor the talents of her congregation and report them to her 'superiors' as potential killing game contestants.

Unfortunately for them, Atua was the only 'superior' she recognized, and His teachings were never meant to be used for such cruelty. She could feel His anger at their heresy during her every waking moment. Her true purpose now was to make them pay, through whatever passive and peaceful methods Atua provided for her...for as long as such methods remained effective, at least. Only He would know when it was time to act.

Once she'd managed to gather a loyal handful of followers, she had put them to work. She'd instructed them to barricade the doors and disable all the cameras in the building, with the explanation that proper worship and devotion was best performed in peaceful seclusion. Her direct supervisor had been suspicious at first, until she had gently explained the true beauty of Atua's blessings. She'd held him close, pulling his sense of confusion and displacement to the surface until they no longer burdened his mind.

She always loved to watch as her soothing voice used Atua's words to replace those feelings with peace and comfort. Those who questioned their purpose in life only ever needed to be shown how infinitely meaningful their true purpose as followers of Atua could be, and Angie was always delighted to help.

She let out the air in her lungs in a single steady motion, stepping back from the canvas to observe Atua's latest masterpiece. Even though it was abstract, the harsh, dark, jagged lines gave the image an overall violent feel. Atua's fury resonated from every curve and angle. It was terrifyingly beautiful. She was certain her congregation would see it too. There would surely be expressions of discomfort once it was displayed in the main entry hall, but it would serve as a constant reminder of their purpose.

Atua had spoken. The heretical Future Foundation would repent for their crimes at any cost.

A tentative knock on the door of her studio pulled her out of her vengeful thoughts. She smiled serenely and clasped her hands together. Even though the circumstances were far from ideal, the feeling of having such a dedicated group of disciples all willing and happy to hear Atua's words warmed her heart like island sunlight.

"Come in, come in~!" she sang to the door.

A timid girl with straight dark hair, dark skin, and dark eyes peeked her head in. She flinched when she saw the painting, and averted her gaze. "Uh, Miss Angie?"

"Oh yes, you are just in time! Atua has just finished his latest masterpiece, and He would have been very sad to be interrupted, you know~!"

The girl nodded, her eyes wide. "I-I know...I was listening until I didn't hear the paintbrush strokes anymore..."

"Nyahaha! Your ears are amazing, Maya!" Angie clapped her hands in delight. "You are truly blessed by Atua! He is very proud of you~!"

Maya gasped in horror. "P-please don't tell them about this..."

Angie's face softened. She approached Maya with her arms outstretched. "They will know nothing." She pulled her fearful disciple into a gentle hug. "As long as you continue to use your talent to serve Atua when you are needed, that talent belongs to Him, and He will protect it at all costs. There are no Ultimates here, only those loved by Atua, who love Him in return."

Maya exhaled with relief, trembling slightly. She spoke into Angie's chest as she returned the embrace. "Um, that's...actually what I needed to tell you..." she swallowed as Angie released her. "There are some people here asking about Ultimate students, and the k-killing game...and they want to see you."

"Ah of course~!" Angie's voice was cheerful, but her teal eyes flashed with suspicion. "Don't worry, I will go speak to them now. Please make sure everyone stays inside. Atua will be watching over you all!"

Maya grimaced in concern. "Y-you're going out to talk to them by yourself?"

"Oh, no, no!" Angie squished her own cheeks in surprise, distorting her words slightly. "Atua is all-powerful! He will be watching over His flock within His house, but still, He is with me always! Those loved by Atua are never alone~!"

"Oh...yes, of course, Miss Angie." Maya stifled her skepticism and clasped her hands together reverently. "Praise be to Atua."

"Amen~!" Angie nodded with a bright smile as she skipped past Maya and left the studio. "I will see to our guests right away! Maya, would you mind hanging Atua's newest painting in the entrance hall in the meantime? He worked very hard on it, and He is very excited to see it in a place that will fill your hearts with His light!"

Maya shuddered as she glanced at the painting again, but she nodded in agreement. "Of course, Miss Angie..." Following this "Atua" and His eccentric prophet was a small price to pay for safety. She'd sooner paper her entire room with such unsettling abstract imagery than be taken to a killing game. 

"Oh Maya, Atua is so grateful, and so am I!" She waved cheerfully as she darted down the hallway. "Bye-o-nara!" 

As soon as Maya could no longer see her face, it hardened with determination, but her wide smile stayed firmly in place. Whoever had come to visit Atua's newest temple would be welcomed with open arms, as long as they held their hearts open for Atua in return. If not, they would simply be turned away, with no hard feelings whatsoever. But if they were there to interfere with their worship, or worse, to scout for Ultimates for their next game, Atua would not be happy. His followers were His beloved lambs, and as His humble shepherd, she would administer His holy wrath without hesitation.

Humming joyfully to herself, she removed the heavy padlock from the door and slipped outside.