Outside of the church, Simon pulled off his black hood and dropped to one knee, pressing his palm flat against the ground. “In the name of the god I revere, I ask that you grant the shackles that carry out your will to bind all that lies beyond Order.”0

The black-clad clergy who surrounded the church in two concentric rings, or more precisely, the members of the Whip of Order, all dropped to one knee in unison, mirroring Simon’s posture as they spoke together, “In the name of the god I revere, I ask that you grant the shackles that carry out your will to bind all that lies beyond Order.”0

Beneath each member of the Whip of Order, a shadow in the shape of a black chain appeared, and they all stretched towards the church. From afar, it looked as though countless black chains had locked the church together with the Throne of Order that stood above it.0

***0

Rasma stood up and bit down hard, his voice carrying a note of weary frustration, “Tiz, you’ve gone mad! Do you know who you look like to me right now? You look like the last mad pope before the collapse of the Church of Light!”0

“You all believe that he was mad, but what if he was the one who was truly awake? He once stood at the top of a tower and shouted that he did not believe the God of Light ever existed. I find that I now understand his feelings. No matter how accurate your thinking may be, once you stop aligning with the crowd, the crowd gains the right to define you as insane.0

“Rasma, you have not yet experienced that feeling, but you should still be able to imagine it. The last pope of the Church of Light did not believe in the God of Light from the depths of his heart, and yet he still managed to climb, step by step, up to the papal throne. You, on the other hand, have always firmly believed in the God of Order, and yet I stand before you now, constantly blaspheming that god, and I have already condensed a godhead fragment...0