As the glow from lightning bathed the face of the one who commanded so much respect and reverence, the winds turned turbulent and coiled around him.
The bright face was finally revealed.
It was oval-shaped, featuring dark eyes and short black hair, the skin the color of the sand. And it belonged to a man who was young, far too young, perhaps barely in mid-twenties.
This startled Steve, and he doubted if he was really the Holy Pope.
As if sensing his doubt, a bright radiance spread from the Holy Pope, illuminating the gothic environment. A feeling of awe-inspiring followed, causing colorful flowers to blossom in the air.
Steve gulped.
This feeling was far too pure, and it radiated holiness whose depth couldn't be gauzed.
He instantly concluded this young man was indeed the Holy Pope!
"Glory to the one true Lord," The Holy Pope said as he arrived at the entrance.
"Glory to The Lord!"
