CHAPTER 53— A HOLY VICTORY
The hand on his shoulder vanished.The pressure disappeared.The chamber returned to stillness.The Pope staggered back from the basin, breath sharp, eyes wide.For three heartbeats, he simply stared at the mirror.Empty.Nothing behind him.Then..He began to laugh.Low at first.Then louder.Relief curdled into confidence.
"You think I haven't accounted for this moment, little anomaly?"
His voice steadied.
"The old world might have feared you…"He straightened slowly, like an emperor donning ceremonial robes invisible to lesser men."…but I do not."
He clapped once.The double doors of his private villa exploded inward.
Guards flooded the chamber in perfect formation, armor etched with scripture that glowed faintly beneath the dawn light. Behind them came bishops, then cardinals, then the hidden elites — those cultivated in silence, trained in sanctified vaults beneath the Vatican for a threat precisely like this.
Leylin stood near the far wall now.Not emerging from mirrors.Not distorting reality.Simply present.Black coat.Calm eyes.Watching.The Pope extended his hand.The Greed Core burned against his chest like a miniature sun.
"Contain him."
The air snapped.Golden chains erupted from engraved sigils in the floor, coiling toward Leylin with surgical precision. Spears of condensed radiance followed, streaking forward like divine judgment given form.
Leylin moved.Not impossibly fast.Not godlike.He stepped aside .. narrowly.A spear grazed his shoulder.Light burned through fabric.Through flesh.The scent of scorched skin filled the chamber.The Pope's smile sharpened.
"So you bleed."
The elites advanced in layered assault. Holy arrays ignited across walls and ceiling, forming a dome of concentrated sanctity. Every inch of space vibrated with scripture. Suppression.Restriction.Exorcism.
Leylin's movements slowed.Chains wrapped around his arm.Another pierced through his side.A bishop drove a radiant blade clean through his abdomen.Light erupted from the wound.Blinding.
Leylin staggered.For the first time, his expression tightened.The Pope stepped forward, robes flowing behind him like banners of conquest.
"Your sin thrives in shadow. But this is consecrated ground."He raised both hands.The Greed Core flared violently.
A pillar of white brilliance descended from the heavens above the villa, shattering the ceiling and engulfing Leylin entirely. The force crushed marble into dust. The guards shielded their faces from the radiance.
Within the light, Leylin's silhouette writhed.Burned.Diminished.
The holy dome intensified, shrinking inward, compressing him under impossible pressure.The Pope's voice thundered over the roar.
"Be cleansed."The light swallowed everything.When it faded...leylin stood on one knee.
Coat reduced to ash.Skin marked with radiant fractures spreading like cracks in porcelain.He tried to rise.A cardinal drove a spear through his back, pinning him down.The Pope approached slowly.Measured.Victorious.
"You were a terror to frightened gods," he said quietly. "But terror is not supremacy."
He seized Leylin by the throat and lifted him.The Greed Core pulsed once.Twice.He drove his hand forward.Straight through Leylin's chest.There was resistance.Then surrender.Leylin's body trembled.His eyes dimmed.
Holy light flooded the wound, devouring whatever darkness lingered within.The Pope withdrew his blood-soaked hand.Leylin collapsed.Still.Dead.Silence fell heavy across the ruined villa.Then..Applause.
Soft at first.From the elites.From the bishops.Triumph spreading like wildfire.The Pope stood tall amid the ruin.He lifted his chin toward the open sky.
"I will rule this world," he declared.
"No anomaly. No relic of forgotten terror will threaten humanity again."He inhaled deeply.Victory tasted clean.Pure.He looked upward.And froze.
The sky was not blue.It was white.Endlessly white.And suspended above were nine green moons.Perfectly circular.Perfectly aligned.Watching.A strange sensation crawled across his thoughts.
"Why…" he murmured.His voice felt distant.
"Why is the sky filled with nine people?"
The applause stopped.Mid-clap.The elites froze like statues.The light flickered.The ruin shimmered.The villa walls dissolved into haze.The white sky cracked like porcelain.And the Pope blinked.He was on his knees.In his private chamber.
The mirror intact.The doors closed.No guards.No elites.No shattered ceiling.Leylin stood before him.Uninjured.Untouched.Calm.
The Pope looked down.Leylin's hand was inside his chest.Not violently.Almost gently.Fingers wrapped around the Greed Core.His lips trembled.
"No…"Leylin tilted his head slightly.
"For someone who claimed not to fear me…"His voice was quiet.
"You dreamed beautifully."
The Greed Core struggled.Once.Then submitted.Leylin withdrew it slowly.The Pope collapsed forward, strength draining from his limbs.Leylin studied the Core as faint green reflections rippled across its surface.
"You were never prepared," he said softly.He glanced briefly upward.Beyond ceiling.Beyond sky.As though aware of something watching.
"You were entertained."The Pope's vision darkened.The last thing he heard
"Sleep."And then nothing.Leylin vanished.The chamber returned to silence.