Disclaimer: I don't own Chrono Crusade, but in some parallel universe. . . I probably still don't.

Author's Note: See chapter one.

x

SEVEN

x

Sin Four: Ira

x

He hated the light.

In fact, he hated anything that reminded him of her. The woman he loved so much. . . the woman he had killed. She had been his light- the holy shine that filled his soul- and now that she was dead, there was no brightness left within him.

And that was how he wanted it.

Cold, empty, alone, and dark. For all of eternity. That was what he desired. That was what he deserved.

That was what he had submitted himself to.

He felt no regret for his decision- no longing for the outside world. Though the years passed slowly in his state of semi-slumber, filled with nothing but guilt and regret and the mournful dripping of icy ground water from somewhere far away- he did not wish to be free. No longer were his days filled with warmth and love. No longer did he care.

He was emotionless. He was dead.

And in some strange way, he was happy.

At least I'm with you, Magdalene. . .

But those decades of silent solitude were suddenly snatched from him without warning, without his consent, without his will. With only a tap of the strong stone doors, the two children stumbled inside- wide eyed and innocent and brimming with curiosity.

He abhorred them the moment their eyes met.

"Who's there? Who has awakened me?"

His voice cracked from lack of use, the glow seeping into the tomb blinding him. His stomach rolled in disgust at the light.

"Huh? Wh. . . who are you?"

A concerned tone, sweet and caring- free from the worries and horrors that the world pressed upon elders. She was a baby.

A baby and her brother had robbed him of his peace.

"My name is Chrono. I'm what you humans call a demon."

Go, go, go, he mentally urged- an unexpectedly desperate note tainting his cruel thoughts. Go and let me be! Part of him wanted to bare his fangs- to transform and frighten the brats away. . . but in his heart he knew he could never do that, no matter how completely he detested their presence there.

"This is a grave. So hurry up and lea. . . urgh!"

He felt himself collapse, not really processing the pain that shot through his childish disguise. Hurting no longer mattered to him. . . the hurt only reminded him that he was dying. And dying wasn't a bad thing. He had nothing left to live for, after all.

. . . Right? For all he cared, he could kick the bucket right then- perhaps that would send the two detestable kids away.

Right?

Right?

He started in mild surprise when he realized that he had no feelings to back up his insensitive statement. But. . . that wasn't possible.

. . . Did he really hate them?

Blinking slowly up into the girl's bright blue eyes, he found himself drowning in depths of the tender soul he discovered behind them. His fingers trembling, he accepted one of the sweets she offered.

"Th. . . thanks."

In that moment, a new boiling sensation began to course through his ancient veins; fueling a fire within him so great that he was sure it was going to consume him within moments.

Total animosity. . .

Towards himself.

I'm so sorry, Magdalene. . . I betrayed you.

He allowed the children to lead him out into the light.

x

Sin Four: Anger

x

(Note: Anger and wrath are interchangeable.)