"Not I—They want it."
Sylvester had heard it so many times already, from the ghost of the first Pope and now him. His patience wore thin; he wanted to get straight to the point, "Who? The beings whom you've sold your freedom to?"
"The gods who need no prayers." Saint Scepter replied, not offended by Sylvester's words in the slightest. "Have you not realized it yet? We are not born in this world out of nature—but because of their will."
'So reincarnations weren't random.' Sylvester finally found some answers.
"Who are they? What do they want from me? Why do they want my servitude?" Sylvester questioned him. He knew he wasn't going to be able to escape from that Supreme Void that easily, so he at least wanted to know all the terms beforehand.
