→ church.

[majorhellstrom]

Dieter Hellstrom was not a religious man. Growing up, he had attended services, but his attendance had grown less and less frequent as he'd attended university, and once the war had begun, he'd stopped going entirely. It had never been a big part of his life, but coming across the island's own church, he'd gone in, although for what reason he wasn'

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[majorhellstrom]

"Neither," Hellstrom said with a nod, tucking his hands into his pockets. He knew that -- to some degree, at least -- he fell into the former category, but to him at least, to return, he would have to have had faith in the first place. He had never had anything to doubt.

He'd been observant enough of what generally went on on the island that the other man looked familiar, but only by face rather than by name or any other specific trait.

"Yourself?"

[majorhellstrom]

Hellstrom shrugged, glancing once up into the rafters. "The path," he said, only a little wryly. The sense of displacement he'd always felt upon coming to the island was keener than ever, here. He'd never contemplated life after death, to be honest. He'd just done his job. If he had had to guess, though, this kind of place wasn't what he'd have come up with.

"How long as this church been here?"