Pope Elwyn Asheld collapsed during morning prayers.
Not publicly — the Pope's morning prayers were private, conducted in the papal chambers of the Grand Cathedral, attended only by his personal attendant and two Crucible guards. The collapse was quiet: a cough that didn't stop, a bend at the waist, a slow descent to the floor while the attendant caught his shoulders and the guards called for the cathedral physician. There was no drama in it. No theatrical fall, no cry of pain, no moment that would be retold in the histories as a turning point. Just a man's body announcing, quietly and without apology, that it had reached its limit.
The physician — a Bloomist-trained healer named Lira, stationed at the cathedral for exactly this purpose — arrived within three minutes. Her assessment was rapid, professional, and devastating.
