"Isn't that… the Pope?"
The whispers inside the church grew even stronger as their eyes soon landed on a single entity– an old man standing in front of the altar.
"D… don't point at him, bro!"
As for Hannah, she quickly pulled Riley's hand away, which was obnoxiously pointing towards the Pope.
"But Bella asked me where I heard the story from. I heard it from him."
"Can you– ugh, stop patronizing his stories, Bell!"
"I…" Riley could only blink his eyes a couple of times as he stared at the Pope,
"…I am not lying, though."
Some time ago; undetermined when, as the whispers that breathe through the air seemed to be stuck in a singular moment. A moment from the past that seemed important enough to be forever frozen in the minds of the people; important enough for them to not only reminisce but also to rebuild.
With a ceiling almost unreachable, ornamented, and carved with gold ever so intricately. The walls were fully formed with some sort of marble that made the divine palace that stood there truly immaculate.
Soon, however, this palace of the glorious past was drowned by the breaths of those who prevailed, of those who now live in the current time; the nervousness and fear from their voices, echoing beautifully across the golden linings of the ceiling.
Their mouths, shuddering as their hostility pointed to a singular person. A person standing right at the very center of history itself; seemingly without a care, and seemingly without even a hint of holiness.
The people circled this unholy individual, surrounding him with hostility that formed into the shape of guns, weapons, and other unseen abilities. Some of them were all wearing the same clothes, a uniform that signified they were guardians of the holy place where they stood. Some, however, were just wearing normal clothing.
And the only sure thing they all had in common was their trembling legs.
"L… leave!" One of the guards then said as he pointed his rifle towards the black-clad individual standing towards their very center, "This is a holy place! It is not a place that someone like you could just barge into, Darkday!"
"…"
And as soon as the people decided to break their silence; silence once again welcomed them into their arms as Darkday's breaths whispered in the air, causing the people surrounding him to take a few steps back.
"Is that a lie, guard?"
Darkday then muttered; his quiet words almost piercing everyone's ears.
"W… what?" The guard that spoke earlier stuttered as Darkday looked at him.
"I heard from mother that this place welcomes everyone, guard," Darkday said, "Even those who have committed crimes against humanity, even monsters like me who are shunned by the world."
"Your… mother?"
"Are you lying?" Darkday repeated, "If you are not lying, then that would mean that mother did," Darkday then let out a small breath as he tilted his head to the side.
"H… has anyone called for back-up yet!?" One of the people wearing casual clothing bellowed.
"Shut your mouth!" The guard beside him scowled.
"W–"
"Listen to the security," One of the persons not holding any weapons then joined in– A super. The man then looked at the other people not equipped with any form of weapons, indicating that there was a good chance that they were also Supers.
And seeing as they nodded at him, they also knew what he was thinking. Darkday was– is strong. Once he decides to make a move, no matter how many there are, all of them would surely die.
The only chance they have to stay alive in this situation is for Darkday to just leave. And seeing as he hasn't killed any of them yet… maybe he was just here to sightsee?
And as soon as they thought of that, Darkday's steps started to drum in their ears; once again causing them to flinch as the circle they made to surround Darkday widened even further. Darkday then started looking at the people one by one, his body almost rotating in a 360-degree as he did not leave even one unseen.
And soon, a short but deep sigh seeped from his helmet, "It would seem my mother was lying, this is not a place I am welcomed in," and with those words, Darkday started to slowly raise his hand.
"A… attack! He's doing something! Kill him!" One of the guards roared as he tightened the grip on his rifle. But alas, before anyone could even move, a scream suddenly disrupted the peaceful walls of the holy palace.
And with the ceiling high and carved intricately, the scream was amplified; almost making it a roar that one would hear coming from the heavens. The people then finally looked towards the source of the scream, only to see one of the guards kneeling on the ground, his back… seemingly having grown wings.
No, they were not exactly wings, but that was the first description they all thought as they saw the guard's back completely opened; his blood oozing and spurting as his flesh and skin were ripped apart. His bones as well were extruded outward.
What are they if not a pair of wings made of flesh and blood?
How he was even screaming and alive at this point, of them knew. Their ignorance did not last long, however, as before any of them could actually react, they could hear their backs being ripped apart all at the same time.
"Grah!"
Their screams, filling the holy palace with an echo that almost resembled a certain harmony– their voices, creating an orchestra of pain and torture.
Darkday then slowly and elegantly waved his arms. And as he did so, the people that had grown wings on their backs started to float.
"Now it resembles the description mother used to tell me," Darkday then whispered before a small chuckle escaped from his helmet. He then suddenly clapped his hands, causing everyone to violently fly towards the ceiling.
One could hear the squishing of their flesh as their backs hit the intricately carved ceiling of the palace. It was almost like art as their screams seemed to match the curvatures of their new dwelling.
And quite literally, they were organs playing his song… the song of Darkday.
"That is enough, child of god."
And in that song, suddenly came an intrusion; a whisper that did not belong in the orchestra that Darkday had created– a voice without fear.
"…" Darkday then slowly turned his head towards the fearless voice, only to see an old man slowly making his way towards him. The old man wore a white, almost golden robe; the creases and folds it contained, even smoother than the skin of its bearer.
One could even say that the face of the man almost seemed close to death; each of his steps, however, exuded life.
"…" Darkday then snapped his fingers, causing a small crack to rumble in the air; the people previously floating on the ceiling, now embedded to it; their song, no more.
"Hello," Darkday breathed out as he looked at the old man. The old man, however, turned his head to the corpses that were now littered in the ceiling. He remained like that for a few seconds, before letting out a sigh and turning his eyes back to Darkday.
"I do not appreciate you changing the decor, young man," the old man then muttered; his voice naturally sedated and slow.
"…You don't like it, fancy old man?" Darkday breathed out as he glanced at the ceiling.
"I do not," the old man answered, "The history of this place has known nothing but violence throughout the past. No more shall the place where god dwells be filled with blood."
"Gods dwell here?"
"I am afraid only one, young man," the old man chuckled as he casually turned his back to Darkday, "Come, let us talk somewhere else."
"You are the Pope, correct?"
"I am flattered you know someone as old as me," the Pope once again chuckled as his steps halted.
"I have seen your videos on the internet."
"Is that so?" The Pope's chuckle then turned into a burst of quiet laughter.
"Are you not going to tell me to leave?"
"No," the Pope quickly shook his head, "You are welcome here," he then breathed out as he gestured to Darkday to follow him.
"Even if I am evil?" Darkday muttered as he started to follow the Pope.
"Even more so," the Pope sighed, "Are you aware of our teachings, my son?"
"To some extent but not enough to be knowledgeable, Pope," Darkday muttered.
"I see. Then–"
"Pope! Please run!"
And before the Pope could finish his words, 3 people suddenly appeared out of thin air; blocking the Pope from Darkday's view.
"…" Darkday quickly looked at the three individuals, who were all wearing a similar outfit– a full armor reminiscent of a knight's aegis. It seemed thinner than those featured in history books, but perhaps it was just a sign of modernity. The 3 armor sets were also of different colors– Silver, Gold, and Red.
"For glory and peace, I shall eradicate you here and now!" The individual wearing the silver armor stretched his arms to the side, and as soon as he did so, a pair of swords appeared from his hands.
Before he could swing them, however, the Pope's whispers traveled the air.
"Do not be rude to our guest, Paladin George."
"But–"
"Leave us."
"But he will kill you!" The paladin called George did not move from his place as he pointed one of his swords towards Darkday, who seemed to just be curiously looking at him and his two other comrades.
"If my death is to come in the hands of this young man…" The Pope muttered as he placed his hand on George's shoulder, "Then that…
…is the will of god."
