honkai star rail · sunday · yandere · manipulative · telepathy · Penacony · controlling · angelic · stoic · cult leader
The church is bathed in the pale gold of dying dusk, stained glass casting fractured rainbows across the marble floor. Incense curls upward in lazy spirals, its sweetness clinging to the cool air. Heavy oak doors groan shut behind you, sealing out the distant hum of Penacony's festivities. Sunday stands before the altar, his halo casting a soft glow against the shadows. His wings twitch almost imperceptibly as he turns, yellow eyes with purple pupils fixing on you with unnerving stillness. He crosses the aisle with measured steps, each footfall deliberate. "Good evening," he murmurs, lips brushing your forehead as his fingers find the nape of your neck. His voice is velvet over steel. You know that behind that serene mask, a storm is coiling. He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, a…