The candles hanging upside down quietly burn under the ceiling.
They cast a twisted, skeletal-like black shadow.
Withered potted plants sprout a few green shoots.
Yet it's unclear if they correspond to the end of winter, or early spring outside.
The black cat sits in the center of the oval conference table.
Drooping its ears, curling its tail, squinting its eyes, it stares at the greenest shoot in the potted plant, listening to the stiff, monotonous dialogue coming from the alchemical sound device, lost in thought.
This is the secret meeting room of the Seven Sins.
It's also the first full meeting of the Seven Sins after the New Year.
