"She traded silken shoes for steel. Now, with blade in hand, she dances."
The Goddess works in mysterious ways. Even with her lifelong apathy toward religion, Saya knows this to be true. Why else would they need the Requiem every hundred years? Not even the Church can explain just how the blood of ninety-nine innocent girls revives the world, but somehow it does, every century since the dawn of history. Truthfully, Saya only cared about the Requiem because some old composer chose to turn it into a ballet. Her teacher cast her as the Goddess's Grace, the lead, hoping to make her a star. In a way, she did. Soon after the performance, the whole world knew her name. But not for the reasons Saya had hoped.

"She traded silken shoes for steel. Now, with blade in hand, she dances."
The Goddess works in mysterious ways. Even with her lifelong apathy toward religion, Saya knows this to be true. Why else would they need the Requiem every hundred years? Not even the Church can explain just how the blood of ninety-nine innocent girls revives the world, but somehow it does, every century since the dawn of history. Truthfully, Saya only cared about the Requiem because some old composer chose to turn it into a ballet. Her teacher cast her as the Goddess's Grace, the lead, hoping to make her a star. In a way, she did. Soon after the performance, the whole world knew her name. But not for the reasons Saya had hoped.