Sylvester stayed seated, looking at Pope Axel's disfigured face. He pondered whether he could muster hatred for the man, but when he put himself in Pope Axel's shoes, he found he couldn't. If some supreme god was controlling him and making him do things, Sylvester wondered if he could have accomplished as much as Pope Axel had.
'We both aimed for freedom; our paths made us enemies.' Sylvester thought and wearily covered Pope's face with his cape. 'May you find comfort in whatever realm lies beyond the living.'
"Max!" Felix came in, rushing and limping on one side. "I saw that flashing light again!"
Sylvester glanced to his side. His body ached like never before as he forced himself to stay awake by sheer willpower. "Felix… The Pope is dead… but keep his body safe. He deserves a proper funeral, with the respect owed to him. He didn't come to the city to kill anyone… he came here to die."
