Fall of the Vatican

"Make a tree good and its fruit will be good, or make a tree bad and
its fruit will be bad, for a tree is recognized by its fruit."
Matthew 5:33



Cyr made his way to the large palace within Serepton, sauntering up the stairs at a snail's pace. Everything was dark, the checkered chrome and black tiles shining so intensely, that an orange glow rung from them when the torches were lit. It was silent within the halls, except for the echoing stomps of Cyr’s footsteps.

Cyr’s black hair covered his face as his blue eyes were darkened, an expressionless face visible. He wore a black, long robe over his tight black pants and leather boots. The symbol of Sereptism was visible on a chain necklace he wore.

Soon he made his way to the large throne room, where many men in all black held guns, surrounding the large throne that was at rest with a man sitting within it.

“It’s good to see you, my son,” the man spoke. “Any word on the Angels?”

“Yes, my lord,” Cyr bowed, “Peace, Charity, and Vivacity are heading to Alganon. Love is heading to Farona and Generosity, Humility, and Acceptance… their locations are unknown at the moment.”

“And where did you get this information?”

“Straight from Ira, sir.”

Sereptus sunk back in his seat as his chin rested in the palm of his hand. Cyr stood breathing lightly as he kept his eyes fixed on Sereptus.

“Tell me, Luxuria, have you learned your place?”

“Of course, Father… why do you ask?”

“From the start of your childhood in your current life, I had little faith on whether you’d continue on our side,” he sighed.

“I swore an oath to you, my lord. You are my only God and I swear to destroy Sophia.”

Sereptus’s narrowed eyes widened as his lips cracked a sinister grin, “Find her and kill her.”

“I have already begun my plans for the war—“

“—Now”

“Now, Father?” Cyr’s eyes widened, “The war has not started!”

“Am I really known for playing by the rules? I demand that she be dead and brought to my throne room once it happens. Go meet Ira and the others within the Absorption Camp in Iptum. A conference is being held there from Ira.”

Cyr pursed his lips as he nodded, “As you wish…”

As he walked out quickly, he kept his hood over his face. He exited the palace immediately and went toward the streets, seeing they were full of people clothed in black.

“Asmarus,” a voice from the distance called. Cyr turned to see Avery watching him from the alleyway. He walked toward him in silence, avoiding attention from anyone else.

“We have a problem,” Cyr pursed his lips.

“What’s going on?” Avery asked, tilting his head.

“Sereptus requests that I kill Emira while she’s still helpless… I could never do this! It’s not apart of the plan!”

“Why would he request something like that? She has no chance and it’ll look too suspicious if you wait too long—“

“Find her and tell her to remain in Halion. Sereptus knows that those unholy are unable to step within its boundaries. What he doesn’t know is that you, Silas, and I have repented.”

Avery nodded, “Is she still in Farona?”

“She should be heading back to Halion right now, but you need to make sure she understands she has to stay there until she completely masters her third eye.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Once you have explained to her this, make your way to the Absorption Camp in Iptum. All the brothers and sisters are meeting there.”

“Will do,” Avery nodded as he started to walk away quickly. Cyr then turned around, sighing heavily.



It was the following morning, and Emira and Liezah already started walking toward Halion. They woke early, before the sun came up and continued on until noon, where they took a small break. Emira sat against a tree, holding onto herself, looking up to the sky. Liezah watched her curiously, wondering what she was doing.

“I’m scared,” she spoke, looking over to him.

“Everyone is, when they’re in preparation for a child.”

“If I screw up though, then I’m honestly at fault for the death of the Golden Age.”

As Liezah was about to speak, an awful stench haunted the area around them as he stepped to look around. Emira did the same as she narrowed her eyes in disgust. It was a foul smell of burning ashes and corroding waste. As the air passed their nostrils, they couldn’t help but choke from the stench.

“What on earth is that repulsive smell?” Emira spat as she covered her nose.

Liezah couldn’t bring himself to speak as he looked around. His face lowered as he shook his head, crossing his arms.

“We must move quickly… before we are seen,” he spoke uneasily.

“Father, answer me!” Emira snapped.

Liezah looked at her in frustration, shaking his head as he began walking quickly. Emira had only one choice, and that was to follow him without an answer.

The two of them had not spoken for several hours as they traveled, mostly because Liezah seemed not to be in the mood to speak. As Emira stayed in silence, she could hear that he was whispering to himself in Halionese.

“Father, why was I unaware that the Hours of Plague have begun?” he whispered.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but what are the hours of plague?” Emira spoke back in the same language, unknowingly.

Liezah’s eyes widened as he stopped and turned back to her. Emira stopped as well, growing apprehension from his blank stare that dazed her thoughts.

“Don’t ever speak Halionese when in broad daylight… it can get us killed!”

“I’m sorry, sir…” Emira pursed her lips.

“Anyways… the Hours of Plague are the darkest times of the Dark Age. Seven deadly epidemics sweep over the entire world in less than ten months.”

“What are the plagues?”

“The first is famine. The second is an economic depression. Then there’s the start of concentration camps, genocide, a formation of a world-wide nation in the name of Serepton, The Rape of Resinbar, and lastly, the war.”

“Those are such odd, non-related plagues…”

“Each plague represents a cardinal sin.”

“I see… so the war is going to start soon?”

“Just after the baby is born, I’m afraid…”

Emira felt her heart sink as she looked to the red sky, “What plague have we started?”

“…it seems the Genocide is next on the list.”