Second Genesis

Chapter 566: Niceties.

The Pope’s expression immediately soured.

"This is not something you can interfere with," he said. "The Goddess sees who she wishes to see, and no others."

Grey yawned.

He sniffled afterward, stretched his jaw until it cracked slightly, then rolled one shoulder as Brad shifted against the other. He had eaten far too much recently, but the strange part was that none of it had actually gone toward energizing his body. Almost everything he swallowed from the Dormaji had been broken down and immediately repurposed into materials for the Infernal Temper Band.

Was turning an Infernal Prince into a portable oven maybe a little wasteful? Sure.

But Grey had also been more concerned about rage-baiting Veyrath and satisfying the part of his brain that had apparently never evolved beyond a middle-school COD lobby, so he wasn’t exactly going to start pretending practicality had been the main goal.

Unfortunately, it meant his patience right now was nonexistent.

So when Grey finally responded, he decided to be as straightforward as possible.

He didn’t say anything instead, his palm opened.

The Virtueless, which had been resting between his hand and the crook of his shoulder, slid downward.

BOOM.

The rod struck the stone floor and the entire Church shook.

Dust drifted from the ceiling, cracks raced outward from beneath the weapon, and somewhere deeper in the structure Grey heard stone groaning. The heft made the foundations bow and sway, the catacombs seemingly still on the verge of collapsing any moment now.

Grey calmly wrapped his fingers around the rod.

"Elowen, Mauve. Behind me."

Mauve moved immediately, and to Grey’s surprise, so did Elowen. There wasn’t even a second of hesitation.

A faint light of hope appeared in her eyes as she stepped behind him, and Grey caught the quick movement of her hand when she wiped away a tear before it could fall.

That was enough.

Grey pulled The Virtueless free from the crater and pointed it directly at the Pope’s head.

He still didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.

The Pope’s face darkened.

Ever since the first time Grey had stepped into his Church, it had felt as though the child possessed some supernatural instinct for discovering exactly what would irritate him most, then choosing that option without hesitation.

Even now, exhausted, covered in dried blood, carrying an unconscious friend over one shoulder and threatening the head of the Church with an ancient weapon, Grey somehow managed to look more annoying than intimidating.

Sister Teresa stepped forward. Her brows had finally drawn together, though somehow she still managed to look like the kindest soul Grey had ever seen.

"Please," she said gently. "There is no need for this. Calm yourself."

Grey’s eyes shifted toward her.

Sister Teresa continued. "If Her Majesty wishes to see her daughter, why should that become a reason for violence?"

Grey stared at her for a moment. Then he looked back at the Pope.

"Why was Elowen the only Imperial Princess sent inside?"

The Pope froze and Grey’s expression sharpened.

"If Imperial Blood was so important to our chances of surviving that bullshit, why was she the only one?"

The reaction was tiny and most people probably wouldn’t have noticed, but Grey most certainly wouldn’t.

The Pope’s pupils constricted hard enough that the answer might as well have been written across his forehead.

Grey sneered. "Ah." His grip tightened around The Virtueless. "So you do know."

The Pope said nothing.

The Immovable barely reacted either, but that didn’t mean much. The old woman had the emotional range of a brick wall, and Grey wouldn’t have been surprised in the slightest if she knew exactly what had happened too.

Sister Teresa looked between them. Confusion finally cracked through some of that endless composure.

"What are you implying?"

Grey almost laughed.

"Please," Sister Teresa said again, and this time her hands came together.

Her fingers formed a seal.

Grey immediately noticed.

There wasn’t hostility in her expression, not really, but he knew enough about Nuns by now to understand what was happening. She wasn’t attacking him yet, but she was preparing to act if she believed she had to.

Grey’s gaze dropped to her hands then he sighed.

"You know why I really hate kind people?"

Sister Teresa’s seal paused.

Grey looked directly at her.

"For one, you people make me second-guess everything I do, and I hate thinking too much. It’s a burden."

Mauve blinked behind him.

Grey continued without caring. "My instincts are usually enough to run circles around most people, so why the hell would I bother sitting there agonizing over every detail, and overthinking everything. I feel like I have to waste my time censoring myself because of your heart of gold, and that is more than just a little fucking annoying. "

Sister Teresa’s expression softened slightly as though she seemed to understand, and Grey almost blew his top off. Luckily, he managed to maintain that composure, continuing coolly.

"But that’s not even the main reason." He shifted The Virtueless a little higher, and swung it over toward the nun. "The real problem with people like you is that your sense of justice, all those hell-bent niceties and second chances, usually just means somebody else gets hurt later."

Sister Teresa’s fingers tightened.

"I already know how Nun Abilities work, and I know exactly what you’re planning to do with those blessings. So listen carefully..." Grey tilted The Virtueless slightly, no longer pointing only at the Pope. "If you insist on using them on me, your head will be the first one I take."

Grey’s gaze had turned steely cold. As much as he thought this woman was like his grandmother, she wasn’t. It probably also wasn’t a coincidence that she hadn’t appeared until this very moment, probably precisely because of how strong the control abilities of these nuns were.

Unfortunately for her, Grey’s leash had only been slightly longer around her neck. If she wanted to insist on death, he wouldn’t mind granting it. One head to save a hundred more. He’d make that trade 100 out of 100 times if that one head would be responsible for the deaths otherwise.