Morgan understood that it was a test. A challenge given to him in front of witnesses to make him do something.
If he said no, he would be considered separate from Murphy's growing movement and would have no way to work from the inside. If he said yes, he would support everything his father was doing and give this new cult more credibility.
The people in the crowd were excited and waiting. Claire looked at him with something in her eyes that could have been support.
Twelve council members stood by, their faces revealing their unwavering confidence in their transformation. Murphy's smile never changed. He was patient and seemed to know exactly what Morgan would choose and why.
Morgan stayed where he was, and every muscle in his body was tense. He couldn't go forward. He couldn't prove this. But his silence said more than any refusal could have. It was clear that he was someone Murphy couldn't see, someone who had seen the horror of today and come to a different conclusion.
Murphy's smile didn't go away, but something changed in his eyes. Maybe recognition or satisfaction. He got the answer he needed.
Murphy smoothly changed the subject by saying, "We each have to find our own way to understand."
"When my son is ready and the truth is clear to him, he will join us," said the speaker.
The congregation turned back to the altar, and Murphy kept preaching. The crisis was over.
But Morgan could feel Claire pull away a little, and the small space between them felt like a physical wound. She had seen him say no and had registered that he had turned down Murphy's offer. Something in her had judged him for it.
Morgan made himself breathe evenly and keep his face neutral, even though everything inside him was screaming. He had not succeeded.
The attempt to hire people had already failed before it even started. These people had already changed their minds and were no longer following Murphy's vision.
Chen would still kill hundreds. Margaret would still set fire to refugee camps. Morgan couldn't stop the others from doing their terrible things, though, because he would have to kill them.
Eventually, the sermon came to an end, but Morgan could barely hear the last words. The crowd started to break up slowly.
Some people stayed behind to talk to the new council members or to thank Murphy in person. Claire moved toward Sister Margaret without saying anything to Morgan.
There was something about her that he couldn't fight or resist. He saw her leave and disappear into the crowd of believers, and he felt the last thread of their alliance start to fray.
Morgan pushed his way outside because he needed air that didn't smell like incense and zeal. The streets were empty except for a few emergency vehicles and people rushing between buildings with their heads down. It was cool and quiet at night. The second wave was over, but the city still felt like it was bleeding.
Twenty minutes later, David Chen came out of the church by himself. He walked with more confidence, his back straightened, and his steps were sure.
Morgan knew that walk. He had seen it before in soldiers who were willing to die for a cause and revolutionaries who thought they were on the right side of history.
Morgan followed him, but he stayed in the shadows between streetlights and kept his distance. His hand was on the knife he had taken from his room before coming to the church tonight. He could feel its shape through the fabric of his jacket. The weight was familiar and awful, reminding him of every person he had killed in the past and every person he might have to kill in this one.
Chen walked down empty streets, humming what sounded like a hymn. He seemed to be unaware of what was going on around him, lost in the glow of his new goal. Morgan stayed away, his footsteps quiet on the pavement that was still wet from the chaos of the afternoon.
Morgan thought about the question with every step. When does stopping someone from doing something turn into murder?
Chen hadn't done any of the things he would do in the future, like killing those two hundred people, building the torture chambers, or planning the purges. At that moment, he was just a man who had found meaning after years of hopelessness, just someone trying to make sense of a terrible event that didn't make sense.
Morgan, on the other hand, knew what he would become. He knew for sure that if Chen lived, he would kill hundreds of people.
The knowledge was close and terrible, based on memories of finding mass graves, hearing survivors' stories, and watching Chen's face stay calm as he ordered another execution. Morgan's grip on the knife got tighter.
Chen was alone and didn't know what was going on. He was still delighted from being anointed. One cut would end it all and stop everything that came after it.
Morgan had killed before, and without thinking, he killed again today. What did one more death matter compared to the hundreds Chen would cause?
But Chen hadn't done it yet. The man in front of him, who was humming and lost in thought, was not guilty of the crimes Morgan remembered. No matter how sure the prevented future might be, killing him now would be murder, plain and simple.
Morgan kept following, torn between what he knew and what he could do, between how horrible it would be for Chen to become who he was now and how impossible it would be to kill him.
The knife was still hidden, and the distance stayed the same. The question still needed an answer.
Chen turned a corner and walked toward an apartment building where he would live for the next few months. Morgan stopped at the intersection and watched him go, still not sure what to do. But he's still going while thinking about how heavy the blade was against his ribs and how heavy the knowledge of what was going to happen was in his mind.
The night ahead was full of choices that were impossible and certainties that were terrible. Claire was still in the church, still listening to Murphy's vision, and still slipping away toward something Morgan couldn't stop without destroying the thing he was trying to protect.
Chen was moving toward a future that Morgan recalled but could not substantiate, heading toward crimes only one man remembered from a timeline that had vanished. Morgan found himself shrouded in darkness, caught between the past and the future, trapped between knowledge and action, between murder and mass murder, and he struggled to find an answer that didn't leave a bitter taste like ash.