[Although he is free from his chains]
[Under some form of restraint]
[Man is a slave to his desire]
[To become his own savior]
[To become God]
-The Soliocos; The Book of Beginnings; Chapter 3 Verses 8-12
__
"So, what is it that you wish to confess?"
"Ah, about that, I've simply come here to discuss a favor with you."
"If you do not wish to confess your sins here, then this session will be over." Father Hoffman said with a commanding tone.
"Sorry. I guess you aren't the jovial type. Let me get straight to the point. The Alchemic Order is in danger."
"...?!" Hoffman's eyes widened in shock.
"Come on...you can't be that ignorant, can you? I already know about the Conservative Faction of your organization. They've been involved in some pretty horrific acts, haven't they? Violence, blood sacrifices, kidnappings, and assassinations of political and religious dissenters - Those guys have done it all. Or rather, You guys have done it all. "
A single bead of sweat crept down the priest's forehead. "We have no association with the Conservative Faction. If you wish to make such terrible accusations, take it up with them and leave." Father Hoffman radiated a wave of threatening spirituality, his intent to kill practically oozing out of every pore.
However, an even stronger force suppressed Father Hoffman. It was an aura enveloped in evil and mischief that belonged to none other than Reed Rowley. "Calm down. Do you think causing a scene here will do you any good?"
"And do you think I couldn't kill you at this very second? Threats such as yourself are a dime-a-dozen."
"I don't think you can't, I know you can't. The Solari don't specialize in mysteries and misdirection like Witches do. It would be a complicated ordeal, killing a man without leaving a trace. Even your brainwashed followers would notice the faint smell of iron tainting such holy grounds. Even if this room was empty, I'd certainly give you a good death match."
"..." Hoffman's bluff was thoroughly dismantled by the mysterious Reed Rowley, forcing him to stabilize his spirituality. "Alright then, what is it that you want?"
"Smart move, phony priest. I'm not here to request much. I only seek the protection of the Conservative Faction. The Liberal Faction is merely a front to the true operations of the Alchemic Order, or rather, the Conservative Faction is the "true" faction that rules the hierarchy of the church and asserts religious dominance in The Hole. It is those soldiers for whom I seek protection."
"I see...but whom do you seek protection from?"
"Enemy pursuers. Let's just say that I've landed myself in a hot bed with a certain detective. He is a well-connected fellow with many strong allies. That is why I need you to aid me in my escape."
"What is in it for me? What could I possibly gain from working with you?"
Reed Rowley grinned at the very question. Father Hoffman had stepped firmly on his trap. "That is a reasonable concern indeed. After all, a man who works for free is a fool."
Irritated by Rowley's theatrics, Father Hoffman cut off the young man and said, "Just spit it out already. I have followers to attend to."
"Okay then...I want to show you this." Reed Rowley slipped a certain document through the rectangular opening in the confession box. Father Hoffman took the paper and opened it immediately. Inside were a myriad of documents, notes, state identifications, and photos of various members of the Alchemic Order. The site of such classified documents stunned Father Hoffman.
H-How...how did he get this? This can't be real, right?
"I'm sure you've heard of the [Karma], right? It's all the rage in The Hole."
"T-That's a myth. It isn't real."
"Quite the contrary my friend, it's as real as it gets. It took quite the effort to obtain this fragment of the Karma, so you'd better not lose it. Now...do we have a deal?"
Hoffman trembled in awe at the man's words. It was as though the young man were a rolling mass of fog. With every word he spoke, the truth of his intentions was only further drowned in mystery. This man was dangerous.
Though his instinct told him to decline the offer, he had no choice but to accept Reed Rowley's proposal.
"Very well...I'll assist you in your escape from your supposed pursuers."
A detestable smile emerges on Reed Rowley's face. "I'm glad that we've come to a mutual understanding. I hope you can accept that little "gift" of yours."
___
Derrick made his way through the elaborate halls of the Conservative Faction's domain. Any prolonged use of his Authority would surely alert any spiritually perceptive cultist he encounters. As such, he dispelled any traces of spirit energy within the immediate vicinity. Confounded by the
Spirituality isn't simply a "flame", it's a concept. It's attributes can be molded directly by my will. Loosen it, no...broaden the interpretation of the technique.
As Derrick's spirit flames dampened and dissipated, he felt a profound shift within himself. The energy that had once manifested as heat now transformed, its properties mimicking sound in a mesmerizing display of control over his spiritual essence. With a tap of his finger, the spirit energy reflected off of the cobblestone walls, feeding him a plethora of information without the inherent risk of detection
He ventured further down the dimly lit corridor, his heightened senses picked up on a cacophony of harrowing screams and chants echoing from the left. The sound reverberated through the stone walls, sending shivers down his spine.
"Holy Lady...Holy Flame...Holy Light..."
"Holy Lady...Holy Flame...Holy Light..."
"Holy Lady...Holy Flame...Holy Light..."
They chanted incessantly with labored breath. The piteous prayers were strewn among wails of agony and torment, each lashing worse than the last. With a shaken resolve, Derrick approached the iron-wrought door. He saw two masked assailants in priestly robes lashing and tearing at the skin of the believers with pointed whips fashioned from metal scraps.
Disgusting...Derrick thought. With a flick of a finger, he sent out a small spark of spirit flames that distracted the cultists, giving him enough time to intercept the gruesome ritual.
The masked assailants paused momentarily, their eyes widening in disbelief as Derrick's presence disrupted their vile ritual. Without hesitation, he unleashed his newfound power, sending waves of sound energy rippling through the air. The torturers stumbled back, their grip on the whips loosening as they recoiled from the unexpected assault.
In a flurry of motion, Derrick closed the distance between them, his movements fluid and precise. With calculated strikes, he incapacitated the assailants, rendering them powerless against his onslaught. Yet, even as he subdued the tormentors, the tortured cult followers remained ensnared in their delusions.
Upon restraining the assailants, he turned to the heavily injured cultists and asked, "Are you all okay? I'll send help here as soon as possible."
Their eyes, clouded with pain and fervor, turned towards Derrick with a mixture of fear and anger. "Out...out...get out...!" The cultists snared.
"What? We need to get you to safety!" Derrick replied in confusion.
They wailed in anger upon Derrick's unwelcome interruption.
"How dare you?"
"You...have disgraced...the Holy Mother."
In their weakened state, they saw him not as a savior but as a threat to their sacred suffering. With feeble yet desperate gestures, they attempted to lash out at him, their devotion to their twisted beliefs overpowering any sense of reason or salvation.
Why...why are you attacking me? I didn't want this. I didn't want any of this.
In the midst of his inner conflict, a painful, yet impressionable memory resurfaced.
[To live and live. To kill and let die. That is my decision.]
Derrick was confronted with an inconvenient truth that he could never bring himself to accept. Whether it be a wanted criminal or a civilized man, all people held the right to take and give life as they saw fit. Just as Derrick sees "saving" people as natural, the Alchemic Order fanatics saw "suffering" as natural. There is no negotiation possible between the two, as they lived in separate realities.
People can't be saved no matter how hard you try. Even if you extend your hand and sacrifice yourself, one can only save themselves. It is a tragedy born of the inseparable wall of the human heart. Perhaps Derrick, no...perhaps we are all too isolated by the ego to recognize one another as equals.
[Ratatap-]
[Ratatap-]
The sound of advancing footsteps were heard across the other side of the hallway. As the commotion echoed down the corridors, surrounding guards were alerted to the intrusion, their footsteps thundering closer with each passing moment. Derrick knew his time was limited, caught between the fervent zealotry of the cult followers and the imminent threat of capture by the guards.
With a heavy heart, he retreated from the chamber, leaving behind the haunting echoes of prayers and screams. The chapter closed with the sound of approaching footsteps, the inevitable clash of ideologies looming on the horizon, as Derrick braced himself for the trials yet to come.
[Although he is free from his chains]
[Under some form of restraint]
[Man is a slave to his desire]
[To become his own savior]
[To become God]
-The Soliocos; The Book of Beginnings; Chapter 3 Verses 8-12
__
"So, what is it that you wish to confess?"
"Ah, about that, I've simply come here to discuss a favor with you."
"If you do not wish to confess your sins here, then this session will be over." Father Hoffman said with a commanding tone.
"Sorry. I guess you aren't the jovial type. Let me get straight to the point. The Alchemic Order is in danger."
"...?!" Hoffman's eyes widened in shock.
"Come on...you can't be that ignorant, can you? I already know about the Conservative Faction of your organization. They've been involved in some pretty horrific acts, haven't they? Violence, blood sacrifices, kidnappings, and assassinations of political and religious dissenters - Those guys have done it all. Or rather, You guys have done it all. "
A single bead of sweat crept down the priest's forehead. "We have no association with the Conservative Faction. If you wish to make such terrible accusations, take it up with them and leave." Father Hoffman radiated a wave of threatening spirituality, his intent to kill practically oozing out of every pore.
However, an even stronger force suppressed Father Hoffman. It was an aura enveloped in evil and mischief that belonged to none other than Reed Rowley. "Calm down. Do you think causing a scene here will do you any good?"
"And do you think I couldn't kill you at this very second? Threats such as yourself are a dime-a-dozen."
"I don't think you can't, I know you can't. The Solari don't specialize in mysteries and misdirection like Witches do. It would be a complicated ordeal, killing a man without leaving a trace. Even your brainwashed followers would notice the faint smell of iron tainting such holy grounds. Even if this room was empty, I'd certainly give you a good death match."
"..." Hoffman's bluff was thoroughly dismantled by the mysterious Reed Rowley, forcing him to stabilize his spirituality. "Alright then, what is it that you want?"
"Smart move, phony priest. I'm not here to request much. I only seek the protection of the Conservative Faction. The Liberal Faction is merely a front to the true operations of the Alchemic Order, or rather, the Conservative Faction is the "true" faction that rules the hierarchy of the church and asserts religious dominance in The Hole. It is those soldiers for whom I seek protection."
"I see...but whom do you seek protection from?"
"Enemy pursuers. Let's just say that I've landed myself in a hot bed with a certain detective. He is a well-connected fellow with many strong allies. That is why I need you to aid me in my escape."
"What is in it for me? What could I possibly gain from working with you?"
Reed Rowley grinned at the very question. Father Hoffman had stepped firmly on his trap. "That is a reasonable concern indeed. After all, a man who works for free is a fool."
Irritated by Rowley's theatrics, Father Hoffman cut off the young man and said, "Just spit it out already. I have followers to attend to."
"Okay then...I want to show you this." Reed Rowley slipped a certain document through the rectangular opening in the confession box. Father Hoffman took the paper and opened it immediately. Inside were a myriad of documents, notes, state identifications, and photos of various members of the Alchemic Order. The site of such classified documents stunned Father Hoffman.
H-How...how did he get this? This can't be real, right?
"I'm sure you've heard of the [Karma], right? It's all the rage in The Hole."
"T-That's a myth. It isn't real."
"Quite the contrary my friend, it's as real as it gets. It took quite the effort to obtain this fragment of the Karma, so you'd better not lose it. Now...do we have a deal?"
Hoffman trembled in awe at the man's words. It was as though the young man were a rolling mass of fog. With every word he spoke, the truth of his intentions was only further drowned in mystery. This man was dangerous.
Though his instinct told him to decline the offer, he had no choice but to accept Reed Rowley's proposal.
"Very well...I'll assist you in your escape from your supposed pursuers."
A detestable smile emerges on Reed Rowley's face. "I'm glad that we've come to a mutual understanding. I hope you can accept that little "gift" of yours."
___
Derrick made his way through the elaborate halls of the Conservative Faction's domain. Any prolonged use of his Authority would surely alert any spiritually perceptive cultist he encounters. As such, he dispelled any traces of spirit energy within the immediate vicinity. Confounded by the
Spirituality isn't simply a "flame", it's a concept. It's attributes can be molded directly by my will. Loosen it, no...broaden the interpretation of the technique.
As Derrick's spirit flames dampened and dissipated, he felt a profound shift within himself. The energy that had once manifested as heat now transformed, its properties mimicking sound in a mesmerizing display of control over his spiritual essence. With a tap of his finger, the spirit energy reflected off of the cobblestone walls, feeding him a plethora of information without the inherent risk of detection
He ventured further down the dimly lit corridor, his heightened senses picked up on a cacophony of harrowing screams and chants echoing from the left. The sound reverberated through the stone walls, sending shivers down his spine.
"Holy Lady...Holy Flame...Holy Light..."
"Holy Lady...Holy Flame...Holy Light..."
"Holy Lady...Holy Flame...Holy Light..."
They chanted incessantly with labored breath. The piteous prayers were strewn among wails of agony and torment, each lashing worse than the last. With a shaken resolve, Derrick approached the iron-wrought door. He saw two masked assailants in priestly robes lashing and tearing at the skin of the believers with pointed whips fashioned from metal scraps.
Disgusting...Derrick thought. With a flick of a finger, he sent out a small spark of spirit flames that distracted the cultists, giving him enough time to intercept the gruesome ritual.
The masked assailants paused momentarily, their eyes widening in disbelief as Derrick's presence disrupted their vile ritual. Without hesitation, he unleashed his newfound power, sending waves of sound energy rippling through the air. The torturers stumbled back, their grip on the whips loosening as they recoiled from the unexpected assault.
In a flurry of motion, Derrick closed the distance between them, his movements fluid and precise. With calculated strikes, he incapacitated the assailants, rendering them powerless against his onslaught. Yet, even as he subdued the tormentors, the tortured cult followers remained ensnared in their delusions.
Upon restraining the assailants, he turned to the heavily injured cultists and asked, "Are you all okay? I'll send help here as soon as possible."
Their eyes, clouded with pain and fervor, turned towards Derrick with a mixture of fear and anger. "Out...out...get out...!" The cultists snared.
"What? We need to get you to safety!" Derrick replied in confusion.
They wailed in anger upon Derrick's unwelcome interruption.
"How dare you?"
"You...have disgraced...the Holy Mother."
In their weakened state, they saw him not as a savior but as a threat to their sacred suffering. With feeble yet desperate gestures, they attempted to lash out at him, their devotion to their twisted beliefs overpowering any sense of reason or salvation.
Why...why are you attacking me? I didn't want this. I didn't want any of this.
In the midst of his inner conflict, a painful, yet impressionable memory resurfaced.
[To live and live. To kill and let die. That is my decision.]
Derrick was confronted with an inconvenient truth that he could never bring himself to accept. Whether it be a wanted criminal or a civilized man, all people held the right to take and give life as they saw fit. Just as Derrick sees "saving" people as natural, the Alchemic Order fanatics saw "suffering" as natural. There is no negotiation possible between the two, as they lived in separate realities.
People can't be saved no matter how hard you try. Even if you extend your hand and sacrifice yourself, one can only save themselves. It is a tragedy born of the inseparable wall of the human heart. Perhaps Derrick, no...perhaps we are all too isolated by the ego to recognize one another as equals.
[Ratatap-]
[Ratatap-]
The sound of advancing footsteps were heard across the other side of the hallway. As the commotion echoed down the corridors, surrounding guards were alerted to the intrusion, their footsteps thundering closer with each passing moment. Derrick knew his time was limited, caught between the fervent zealotry of the cult followers and the imminent threat of capture by the guards.
With a heavy heart, he retreated from the chamber, leaving behind the haunting echoes of prayers and screams. The chapter closed with the sound of approaching footsteps, the inevitable clash of ideologies looming on the horizon, as Derrick braced himself for the trials yet to come.
