[New Vatican]
Pope Adrian rose from his throne, a man of noble bearing but with a face etched with worry. Much of his youth had been stripped away when Sapphire attacked the Old Vatican. His eyes fixed on the three generals before him—Alexander, Lariet, and Gordon—survivors of that fateful day.
The men still bore the scars of the previous battle, their bodies wrapped in bandages and their expressions a mixture of determination and exhaustion. It had taken long months for them to recover.
"Generals Alexander, Lariet, Gordon..." Adrian began, his voice heavy with gravity. "We were fortunate. Fortunate that the fragment of Excalibur was able to shield us from the devastating impact of that... meteor." He emphasized the word as if it were a painful reminder of the overwhelming force they had faced. "But it seems our luck has completely run out."
