Chapter 817: It Should’ve Been Him
Chapter 817: It Should’ve Been Him
Hurt people hurt people.
Mother Reverend believed that as well.
She had already foreseen what would happen if the cardinal’s madness reached its peak. If he succeeded, she knew it wouldn’t be the end. If anything, it would only mark the beginning of another endless bloodshed.
"I had a vision," she said. "It was only a glimpse. You may call it silly, but I believe in such things. In that vision, I saw Madam Zorken standing before a ruined, century-old cathedral—its walls stained with the blood of those who served the church."
A wry smile touched her lips. "At first, I didn’t realize it was Madam Zorken. I thought it was someone else entirely. Initially, it was merely a dream... until it began appearing even when my eyes were open. That was when I understood what it meant."
"The death of the secret society would not be the end," she continued, facing Lola squarely. "Rather, it would be the beginning of a new era. An era where balance is no longer upheld by a few, but monopolized by one."
"An era where the world rests in the palm of a single person," she added. "I chose to believe in that—silly as it may sound."
Lola and Atlas were in no position to confirm such a thing. No one could truly know what would happen or what a person might become.
But if Lola truly lost Atlas, she knew she would never be the same. The same went for Atlas.
"If you knew what the cardinal was doing, why didn’t you act sooner?" Lola asked before she could stop herself.
"He had the Pope," Mother Reverend replied with a faint smile. "I am not someone who gambles with lives, Madam Zorken. The Pope is the church’s hope—our leader. I would not risk his life. Moreover, while I may hold this position, I do not possess the resources to fight a man like him."
She lowered her head. "I could only wait for the right time."
"And when that time came... you intended to shoulder the responsibility alongside the cardinal by dying? Is that what you’re saying?" Lola pressed.
Mother Reverend did not answer directly. She didn’t need to.
"As I said, it is a shared responsibility," she spoke again. "We were the ones who placed the cardinal in that position. We failed the church. We failed those who leaned on us in faith. We failed to protect our Pope."
She exhaled softly. "One way or another, we all had a hand in what happened."
"What a selfish way of thinking," Lola whispered, though she restrained herself from saying more. She wasn’t from the church, nor was she particularly devout—but she understood what it meant to be trapped by another person’s actions.
The Pope was old, and what the cardinal had done to him was outrageous. From what she heard, the Pope had been deliberately kept paralyzed, while the cardinal used his age to convince others it was merely declining health.
That was how the cardinal consolidated his power and control.
Killing the Pope would have been pointless. If he died, another would simply rise—someone younger, someone harder to manipulate.
"For that, I still apologize for everything. And if you allow it, we would like to make amends," Mother Reverend added, drawing a shallow breath. "Rebuilding trust will not be easy, but I hope we can begin somewhere."
With that, she rose to her feet and inclined her head slightly, bidding them good night. She turned to leave, but as her hand reached the doorknob, she paused.
When she spoke again, both Lola and Atlas frowned.
"Obsession. Possession. Denial. Rejection. Rage," she murmured, her gaze lowering to the knob. "When all of those are intertwined, they become nothing more than a twisted knot of emotions. And before one realizes it, reality itself begins to warp—reshaped into something favorable, something bearable."
She glanced over her shoulder at them.
"I agree with what you said, Madam Zorken."
"Two lifetimes are already too many. What more if one has lived four?" She smiled faintly. "On top of everything else I mentioned, I believe such a person would begin to blur the lines."
"I do not know the full story," she continued, "but I believe he truly fell madly in love... or rather, it was obsession and possession disguised as love." She corrected herself softly. "It should have been him — Atlas. Yet every time, you were the one who fell. And if not you, then someone else bore the cost for him, like Penelope."
Her smile deepened slightly. "I am not like all of you. I only receive fragments of visions. But I believe what happened at the holy grounds was meant to happen. The wrath of God—delivered through all of you—to show what becomes of those who mock Him."
She gave a slight nod. "And perhaps allowing a man to live four tragic lifetimes... is a punishment in itself."
"Then what about the people who were caught in that punishment?" Lola blurted out. "Did they deserve it?"
"I am no God, and I never will be, Madam," Mother Reverend replied, lowering her head. "I cannot answer that. But what I do know is this—the cardinal started it all. All because he could never accept that he could not possess what he desired most."
With that, she bowed her head slightly and stepped out.
As soon as she did, she paused upon noticing someone walking down the hallway.
Penny stopped short, brows furrowing as she stared at the nun exiting Atlas’s ward. Mother Reverend offered her a subtle smile in greeting before continuing on her way.
Penny resumed her steps toward the room, but just as she reached the door, Mother Reverend’s voice stopped her.
"I’m glad to see you again, Miss Penelope."
"Huh?" Penny turned back, only to see the nun smiling at her before walking away. "See me again? Do we know each other?"
She shrugged and reached for the doorknob, but froze as her brows slowly knitted together.
Then her head snapped up, eyes widening.
"That voice..." she whispered in shock, releasing the knob and turning in the direction the nun had gone.
She knew that voice.
She remembered it clearly.
She might not have recognized it at first, but it was the same voice as the woman with that child on Pierson Island.
The woman she had wondered about for years.
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