Second Genesis

Chapter 565: No Rest for the Wicked

Grey stepped through the portal first with Brad slung over one shoulder, Elowen and Mauve beside him, while the others filed through behind them in a much quieter procession than the one that had entered the Instance.

Elowen hadn’t said much since they left the Culling ground, but she wasn’t the only one. Nobody had. Even Xerchen had been strangely silent, and Grey couldn’t decide whether that was because everyone was exhausted, processing what had happened, or finally beginning to appreciate how handsome and heroic he was.

Probably all three.

Waiting for them on the other side were the Pope, The Immovable, and another elderly woman Grey had never seen before.

She wore white nun robes that fell almost completely straight from her shoulders, with a golden crucifix hanging from a strand of white pearls around her neck. Her face was lined with age, but her eyes were kind in a way Grey immediately disliked, not because there was anything wrong with her, but because there was something about genuinely good people that made him feel like swearing around them was somehow worse.

Grey frowned. He hated that feeling.

People like this were too rare, too nice, and somehow always made him feel like the asshole even when they hadn’t said a damn thing.

He was pretty sure he could punch this old woman directly in the face and she would apologize for hurting his knuckles.

"Oh brother," Grey muttered.

The Pope didn’t seem to hear him.

His eyes were moving over the returning group, counting faces, and the surprise became more obvious the longer he looked. Too many of them had survived, and more importantly, they had returned far too quickly.

His expression shifted.

"Did you fail?"

Nobody answered immediately. The silence certainly didn’t help.

Grey was the only person there who didn’t look particularly somber, but using Grey Temolt as the emotional gauge for a room was probably one of the quickest ways to misread a situation.

"Hey, old man," Grey called.

The Pope’s eyes shifted toward him.

For a moment, Grey thought the man might finally lose his temper, but instead he only exhaled slowly, lowered his gaze, and shook his head. There was something almost mournful in his expression now, enough that Grey glanced sideways toward Elowen.

"Why do you think he’s ignoring me?"

Elowen gave him a tired look.

Grey had already returned to his normal size by then, whatever Atlas bullshit had expanded his body long gone, but the aftermath hadn’t exactly been gentle. His limbs felt heavy, his Stamina was scraped down to an uncomfortable level, and if he had his way, he would have already disappeared somewhere quiet to bother the angel lady about what the hell had happened back there.

He had too much shit to do.

Prometheus still needed a proper vessel repaired, the old Holy Knight had left behind a quest Grey hadn’t finished, and somewhere near the bottom of the list sat the "small" issue of eventually killing the Goddess Empress.

Unfortunately, something told him that if he didn’t deal with whatever was happening here first, all of those other problems were going to become considerably more annoying.

Before Elowen could answer him, Xerchen stepped forward.

"We succeeded."

The Pope looked up sharply.

Xerchen’s expression didn’t change.

"Due in large part to Grey Temolt, we are now the only Empire remaining within our Culling Region."

Xerchen then proceeded to explain everything that happened within the Culling Grounds, not missing a detail. He didn’t embellish, but he also didn’t have to.

The Pope’s eyes widened, so did The Immovable’s. Even the white-robed nun showed the faintest trace of surprise.

Grey lifted one hand.

"Hold the applause, hold the applause. I know you all want to fangirl over me, but please, one at a time."

Nobody said anything.

Grey slowly lowered his hand. "Tough crowd."

The Pope ignored that too, his gaze settling on Grey with a seriousness that finally made it clear he had moved past surprise.

"You," he said quietly. "Are you aware of the trouble you have caused?"

Grey yawned. "Listen, if we’re going to fight, let’s just do it, alright? I’m tired."

The Pope’s expression darkened.

Grey shifted Brad slightly higher on his shoulder.

"I just finished kicking the ass of a God’s projection, and I don’t mind extending the same favor to a figurehead Pope."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop.

The Pope’s eyes went cold, and The Immovable’s attention sharpened almost immediately, but before either of them could respond, the elderly nun stepped forward.

"That will be enough."

Her voice wasn’t loud, but that somehow made everyone listen more.

She looked toward Grey with the same kind expression she had been wearing from the beginning.

"My name is Sister Teresa."

Grey’s face twisted.

’Of course it is.’

Could you copyright a name? Because apparently this universe had decided that if it wanted to send someone to convince Grey to stop being an asshole, it might as well wheel out Mother Teresa while it was at it.

Sister Teresa smiled faintly.

"You have done this Empire a great service today, Grey Temolt, and you will be rewarded accordingly. Whatever disagreements exist between you and the Church can wait."

Grey stared at her.

She turned toward the others.

"You have all endured a great deal. Go, rest, recover, and let the matters of tomorrow remain matters of tomorrow."

Grey sighed.

He hadn’t known his grandmother long enough to remember much of her clearly, but every now and then his grandfather had spoken about her in a tone Grey almost never heard from the old bastard.

Looking at Sister Teresa, Grey suddenly thought he understood what kind of woman she must have been. Only someone like this could have kept a madman like his grandad under control.

’Maybe I’d be less unhinged if she was still alive.’

Grey immediately frowned.

Nah. Probably not.

He shook his head and started walking away with Brad still over his shoulder.

Mauve moved after him almost automatically, and Elowen took half a step before the Pope called out.

"Princess."

Elowen stopped.

The Pope’s expression softened slightly. "Your mother wishes to see you."

Grey stopped walking.

His eyes narrowed. Then he sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

He turned around slowly.

Elowen was already looking toward him, and judging by her expression, she knew exactly what he was about to do.

Grey grinned.

"I’d like to see my mother-in-law too."

Grey didn’t need all the context that Elowen had to realize there was something fishy about the fact she was the only one of Imperial Blood sent into the culling. And now she was suddenly being called back?

Grey wasn’t about to let his wife get drained of all her blood.