"That is the thing. I have done my research on him, and overheard the chatter from both the devil's and Creed's, and the way we fight, act or even speak seems to be very similar to the point that Creed even mentioned that we are like mirror reflections of each other. I should be happier about it perhaps, but I feel uneasy." Lyle flexed his fingers unconsciously as he thought about the magician.
...
"How so?"
"… I am not sure." Lyle paused for a moment before letting out a tired sigh. "Maybe it is the shock of finding out about him and God's Death. I just can't seem to wrap my head around it."
"At the very least, you are no longer alone my son. At least someone else can understand your pains being so compatible with the holy swords in the vault." The pope remarked in a comforting tone.
"I am not worthy." Lyle answered a little too quickly and with a bit of heat. He took a moment to calm himself down before continuing. "I cannot be worthy, what with my past and what I have done."
"Who is to say that either you or him are worthy or not? After all, there have been people who are zealous in their teachings, constantly shedding blood and tears in their search for redemption, fruitlessly donating huge amounts of money in the hopes they would be welcomed through Heaven's Gates. But it is not for them nor for us to decide. There are other powers at work, and the swords themselves are that proof. You and a magician, two unlikely people as you said, are the ones chosen to wield them." The pope replied to his comment.
"Maybe, but I am not that good a person, even if I had the compatibility to wield holy swords."
"Even if you were also granted the mark of Christ?"
"…" Silently Lyle lifted his arm and unbuttoned two from his shirt and pulled the collar to one side while looking at the reflection on the glass cabinet. Located a little higher from his heart, a rather intricate tattoo adorned his slightly scarred body. Split into three parts, it was formed into the shape of a cross with vines intertwining each part. Now that he had a look at it, Lyle noted that the tattoo seemed to have gotten a lot more noticeable since the last time he laid eyes on it.
"I have looked through all the archives here and other sacred grounds I know, yet there seems to be little to no information to supplement the book you have on this." Lyle remarked while covering it back up.
"In some ways you have better luck in finding out information than me, I couldn't find out more about that tattoo apart from some odd words that seemed to be part of a poem." The pope shook his head tiredly. "The only thing that is consistent with all of the documents is that those given those tattoos are chosen for some ritual and each of them fit some form of requirement to do so."
"I still don't get it. Why me?" Lyle looked at his own reflection with a troubled frown. "Why was I the only one to have this mark from the experiments? If you are saying that I was chosen for some noble goal, it should be given to someone else since I had committed so much killings all this time. Otherwise, and forgive me for my language, the whole issue of me being chosen is just utter bullshit."
"And yet it didn't." The pope walked back to him and placed a hand in his shoulder. "I can't say I know the truth about the tattoo appearing on you, and I know you do not have that much faith, but I would like to think that all you have done were trials to prove your mettle, and the tattoo stayed on because you were able to overcome those trials and stayed true to what you believe."
"… We won't know until the time comes then." He adjusted his attire and made his way back to the patio. "The guard shifts will end soon, it would be best to take my leave."
"My son, please wait a moment." The pope's voice made him stop just before the entrance. "You should not need to do this anymore. You are already out of that man's control, and have brought down many of the old factions that persisted after the abolishment of the experiments. If you are worried about being a wanted man, I could just send out an official order and…"
"You can't." Lyle said it calmly and firmly to cut the words off. "If you do that, those who opposed your ascension would use this to make you look like you are abusing your authority and extending favoritism towards me who is a criminal. Not to mention there are many who were already suspicious of my allegiance and will seek me out now that Galilei is behind bars. They will come after me and will likely get to you if needed."
"But still, you have done enough." Pope Francis spoke with a great deal of grief in his voice. "You say otherwise, but I can't help but feel you are taking on a burden that could potentially lead to your fall. You ended up under Galilei's control far longer than planned because of his influence. You kept taking up covert missions that involved taking down the old research facilities that dealt with the Holy Sword Project, and your body is breaking apart from said experiments. You need to stop, my son."
"… I don't really have plans for a long life. As you said, I won't have much time because all the experiments done on me have significantly shortened my lifespan." Lyle agreed as his hand tightened his grip on the door frame. "So while I still have breath, I will go and find those who were involved or continuing the Holy Sword Project. Galilei may have started the program, but there are still those who continue that type of work on children even after the project was abolished." He opened the doors, letting in a cold breeze as he raised his head to look at the moon shining in the sky. "No matter how much we pray for miracles, there is one sad fact about this world."
"Sacrifice one life for ten. Ten for a hundred. A hundred for a thousand. And so on." Lyle turned to face the Pope with a sad smile. "In reality, we cannot save everyone. Someone must die for another, for either noble reasons or selfish ones."
"… You still blame yourself for what had happened to that girl? And those town folks?"
"… If you recalled, I was the sole survivor of an earthquake that consumed my hometown. I don't have any memories of my family or that place after the incident, the only thing I recalled was waking up in the facility with the other children. One by one, they all succumbed to the effects of the experiment. Most died off within the first couple of weeks, some grew mad and bloodthirsty, and the last few of us ended up having been marked by the experiments." Lyle rubbed the back of his neck with an uncomfortable expression, like remembering a bad memory or a wound on his neck. "We were basically removed from everyone else, they looked at us like we were mere tools. Even among ourselves, we were more or less dead to one another."
"Only she looked at me differently, only she looked past the blood and carnage I had endured, and she was also the first one to hold my hands without caring about the innocent blood I had spilled." Lyle looked at his hands and lightly flexed them. "She was the first one who pointed out to me that I could use my skills for something other than killing. She showed me a world that was not covered in the color of blood nor a world of cold tables, pills and needles. It was also thanks to her that I met you."
Lyle gripped his hands tightly with an anguished expression. "If I did not go out to meet her that night, she wouldn't end up getting killed! The people of that town wouldn't have gotten wiped out! Maybe it would have been better that I did not know her in the first place, then maybe!"
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A/N : The Story Needs More Power Stones ;)
PS : if we can reach 400 Stones by the end of the week, I will throw you an extra chapter
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if you want to read ahead of the public release you can go to my p atreon :
p atreon.com/Aerle