The scruffy trio made their way down the street of Manhattan, getting a fair amount of looks from passersby, the echoes of wailing sirens far behind them. Eleanor and Sofia sometimes exchanged angry glances but stayed quiet, whilst Zachary frequently scanned the area, ready for anything. The white-haired man had an aura of someone not to fuck with, so no one bothered them.
Eventually, Eleanor, Zachary and Sofia saw the cathedral off in the distance, and in the opposite direction, the Atlas Statue at Rockefeller Centre. She did not know why, but something about that statue felt...familiar, as if it was the reason she was here.
Mother seemed pleased, and stroked her head, making her hair look nicer.
"Ahh. See, now, how the cathedral remains standing? Unlike your Rapture, Ryan, unlike Rapture..." Sofia said to herself, needing some sort of satisfaction somewhere.
"And you're sure there's people who can help us? Or are you just pretending to be Christian to manipulate people?" Eleanor asked with a rude tone of voice. Mother did not react, and continued walking, almost bumping her shoulder into some guy yet not reacting to him, either.
"Are you going to answer me? Or keep acting like a fucking twat?" Eleanor snapped.
Zachary gave her a weird look.
Eleanor felt a little guilty. Making puppy dog eyes, Eleanor stroked her hair, eyes low. She never imagined herself talking to her mother this way, as horrible as she was, yet it came out.
"Ascension is near, Eleanor. We will be reborn." Mother's answer gave Eleanor flashbacks of her Rapture: the graffiti messages, the candles, the drapes, the spiritual feel of Mother's speeches...
"Your Rapture failed, just like Ryan's...Mother," Eleanor acidly replied.
"And, yet, here I still am, unlike your false father. I do not fail, even when my own daughter was against me. So ask yourself, Eleanor, did I raise you right?"
"Not as good as dear Father," Eleanor answered, smirking. Mother huffed.
"Could we please just focus on the task at hand?" Zachary asked as they neared the cathedral.
Looking up the cathedral, Eleanor felt the building's grandeur wave upon her. She was even a little intimidated, but this was where she would find Michael Vay Atar, whoever he may be.
As for Zachary, he seemed unaffected by the giant church. In fact, he looked rather disappointed, as if a big chore was ahead of him. Sofia did not seem to care about anything, and, swinging the doors open, stepped right in, chin up.
As Eleanor and Zachary followed Sofia, Eleanor looked up and around. The interior of the cathedral was beautiful. Stunning, in fact. Down the aisle, wooden pews lined endlessly, immense pillars holding up the House of God. Definitely more beautiful than whatever trinkets and decorations The Rapture Family assembled down in Rapture.
"My congregation...they are not here? But they were always here. Hunh," Mother spoke to herself.
Mother walked down the aisle without further ado. Zachary looked around cautiously, and Eleanor followed without much thinking. Eleanor wondered why Zachary was looking around so much, and then she realized why. Here and there, people knelt between the pews, all of them wearing black shiny robes, hoods covering their heads. They knelt with their heads low, palms together, rosaries around their necks. At first, all of the robed people seemed to be praying fervently and motionlessly. However, as Eleanor walked down the aisle, few by few, the robed ones turned their heads and seemingly stared at her. The only faces Eleanor could see was the blackness within their hoods.
"Is it someone new?" a man's voice echoed from the tabernacle, his voice deep and rich, yet monotonous. He appeared behind the altar. Simultaneously, the robed people stood up as well, but kept their heads low and palms together.
Eleanor and Zachary turned their backs, making sure nothing bad happened.
"I don't like this..." Zachary mumbled, but the three continued walking nonetheless.
"Ahh, Eleanor...matre pulcha, filia pulchrior...Sancta Virgo Virginum," the man behind the altar spoke. He wore a garment that appeared to be a hooded cassock, hood covering his head, and a white ferraiolo worn over the cassock. A golden crucifix hung from his neck. He had long dark brown hair, hanging over either collarbone, and a long, thick beard that sat on his chest like a mat.
"Michael...my congregation. Where are they?" Sofia demanded.
"They will be here soon. As you can see, I needed the cathedral for myself, for a time," the man replied.
The man turned his head at Eleanor's direction, then extended his right arm, ferraiolo partly unfurling.
Is he gesturing to me? She and her two friends approached the man. Sofia crossed her arms and made a focused face, whilst Zachary kept looking around slowly, as if expecting something dangerous to happen.
The man kept his arm out, Eleanor noticing a hole in the centre of his hand, a square opening clean through the flesh, but the bones and tendons were visible. The skin around the hole was missing, and the man had unusually long fingernails. Eleanor slightly furrowed her eyebrows, not because of the rather grotesque injury, but because she smelled...roses?
"Eleanor...Agnus Dei...our Saviour...has finally come. She had descended into hell, then she ascended to the right hand of the Father," the man continued, stepping to Eleanor and gently placing his right hand on her shoulder. She had an urge to brush his hand off. He put his left hand over his heart, Eleanor seeing that his left hand had the same injury as his right, and the scent of roses amplified.
Eleanor stepped back while pushing the man's hand off her, a few drops of blood falling out the hole.
"I'm not joining any cult, pal. A Big Sister, somehow, gave me a letter from you, all the way from Rapture. Then, this man, Benny Chairman, tried to kill me, so your advice clearly did not work. Next time, be a little more specific in your warnings. I lost an eye because of that, Michael."
"You do not believe, but the Lord Jesus Christ and his Almighty Father believe in you," the man said.
Mr. Atar spread his forearms out but kept his elbows near his torso, palms up, and he tilted his head. Eleanor noticed his lower right torso was bloodied, the smell of roses quite strong.
"Eleanor, little Lamb, you are not who I remember. You have changed. Oh yes, you have. Or, perhaps it is only malus pudor? You talk differently, you act differently... No longer do we behold the awakened child mimicking her father. No, she has truly gone beyond her fever dream. Now, we see the child becoming a woman, the woman she wants to be."
"Whatever. What do you want from me?" Eleanor demanded.
Michael clasped his hands behind his back.
"Is it just me, or does the place smell like roses?" Zachary mumbled to himself.
"Shh, Zachary, you are disturbing them..." Sofia hushed.
"Ah, yes, so Benny found you. You took the cab numbered seventy-seven, even after I warned you of that number. He shot you in the eye, but little Cindy happened to see you floating in the sea. She is also responsible for saving your life. But many things can happen by accident," Michael explained.
Eleanor narrowing her eyes. "How did you know all that?"
"Ohh...Eleanor, truly, have you not realized that I have always been with you?"
"No, actually."
"An honest answer, from an honest Lamb. You will understand everything, in due time. You are, after all, a golden child, a Utopian, not quite perfect just yet, but...you are very smart, little one."
Eleanor was not happy by Michael's sophistry. He's just like Mother...
"Oh yes, I am quite similar to your mother."
Can he read my mind?
"Yes. But, Eleanor, we must not fraternize. Benny...he has acquired the medallion, and this may be risky. For all of us."
"And what about it?" Eleanor asked, crossing her arms. She regarded Michael with suspicion. If he could truly read her mind, and knew many things about her, it was plainly obvious he was not an ordinary person. The scent of roses in him...
"The medallion is no simple trinket, Ms. Lamb. Hidden inside, it contains a singularity of the activity of a Lutece Device."
"So...in other words, the medallion is capable of space-time quantum fluctuations," Eleanor commented, intrigued. Why didn't the Luteces tell me?
"Oh, don't worry, Eleanor. The Luteces did not tell you, but...they are dealt with. I made sure of that. They cannot escape this time," Michael assured, then looked at Zachary, and Zachary at he. "I did what...Mr. Comstock...could not: contain the Luteces."
Zachary's eyebrows furrowed.
Michael looked back at Eleanor. "They came to me, seeking further experimentation, but...they will trouble us no more. They seem to have mistaken me for someone else, someone they wished to avoid yet work with. Peculiar, that even those such as the Luteces could mistake me for a...devil."
"What did you do to them?" Eleanor inquired, concerned of the Luteces' safety.
"Oh, they are unharmed, little one. They are more valuable alive and healthy than dead."
"Good. How do we find Benny?"
"You won't find him, you will stumble upon him. No matter what you do, no matter where you go, it will happen."
"And why is that?" Zachary asked.
"Because there is no other possibility, Mr. Comstock. I simply had to keep my end of the bargain for the Pinkerton's—"
Zachary grabbed the priest's shirt and pulled him up close. "You're the reason they're after me!?" His accusation was groundless, but he was convinced. "And her!" He gestured his head to Eleanor. Zachary pulled out his revolver and pointed the barrel into Michael's head.
Eleanor's eyes widened.
Zachary's veins throbbed. "You better tell me everything you know, idiot priest, before I blow your fucking brains all over that goddamned altar!"
Eleanor did not expect such an impulsive reaction. She turned her head, Mother nonchalant, though the congregation...oddly enough, made no reaction, continuing praying as if nothing happened.
The priest grinned, teeth leaking some blood. "Hold, Zachary. I am not your enemy. You are only half right. I am not the primary reason the Pinkerton's are after you, or Eleanor. I only made a means to an end, and did what I had to do to survive," Michael explained.
Zachary shook the priest from anger. "That's it!?" he shouted.
Sofia crossed her arms. "You need answers?"
Zachary calmed down, exhaling and letting his head drop, grip partly loosening. "Explain."
"Indeed, Mr. Comstock. But you yourself have not been honest with Eleanor, have you? Do you think she would ever believe..." Michael looked at Eleanor, "that you are, in fact, a man from the past? A man who does not belong in this space-time? A man destined to rule a city flying in the sky? A man who...falls into regret and despair, no matter where he goes..."
Zachary lifted his head, a mix of fear and surprise on his face. Horrible memories returned, rushing into his mind like painful whiteness. He felt as though he thought with the minds of millions of men at the same time, relieving so many lives, having so many contradictory memories, nothing but pure pain...
You're hurting her! Let her go! Let, her, go!
Shut it down, shut down the machine!
Pull!
Pull her through!
Hurry!
She's not through!
Go!
The child's head...
I remember... all of it... that poor child...
And when the guilt... was too much...
You turned to us to solve your problem...
To provide a place to go where you might forget...
Where there never was an Anna in the first place...
Never comfortable with the choices he made...
Always seeking to claim someone else's life to claim as his own...
I'm so sorry...
No you're not. But you're about to be.
Zachary's heart missed a few beats as that deep, bellowing groan resonated in his skull. His breathing slowed and weakened, the painful memories drilling into his bones and guts. The scars in his chest grinded with pain, and after ten long years... This was too much for him. He let go of Michael, feeling like discarded waste.
"I wonder who had it worse...the one who had the little head, or the one who had the small, headless body? Well, at least one did not have to witness her lifeless face, frozen with terror, only wishing she could clutch her father's hand," Michael spoke slowly, leaning forwards a bit.
Zachary's eyes became shiny, his face empty, almost petrified. Nevertheless, his left hand still clutched Michael's front. Zachary was not always one who could control his hands, after all.
"I think, actually, that the one who had the headless body, in fact, was driven to suicide... The young lady in blue, she was quite defeated. She grew old in her agonizing and humiliating imprisonment, and, broken by time, she brought down the mountains of men...but she learned much from her pain... Oh well, cineri gloria sera est." Michael continued, straightening his back.
Eleanor did not know what to do. She did not know anything about Zachary's little accident so long ago, but she had a feeling he was surprised by Michael's apparent omnipotence. Mother, on the other hand, remained composed. Is she enjoying all of this?
"And then prattled along one curious Little Sister, like a young rabbit, she the only girl with unique Plasmids. She smelled the ADAM in your corpse, and, in her excitement, inadvertently reconstituted your dead cells. And, just like Spirry, who could see behind all the doors, some of his power went into you, and you, too, could see behind some of the doors... Especially the doors of Comstock...his memories, his drives, his extradimensional equivalents..." Michael explained mysteriously, then looked at Eleanor. "That Little Sister...she had some of Spirry's Plasmids. He used her as a means into Rapture, to recollect his seeds... Seeds that not even a prophet could dream of."
Zachary's shoulders dropped. Eleanor felt pain in her head, hearing echoing, static and tuning sounds, her eye and eye socket emanating with yellow. She turned her head, and saw that Zachary's eyes also lit up with yellow. He winced from pain, and within two seconds, the strange sounds and yellow light faded away.
"Mr. Comstock, Eleanor...your noses are bleeding," Michael commented, the two touching their noses at the same time, blood on their fingers. "Now, Mr. Comstock, is your circle unbroken yet?"
Zachary's despair converted to anger, and he pistol-whipped Michael in the face. The priest leaned from the blow, blood trickling out his face, dripping onto his beard, robe, and floor. Yet, he appeared unaffected.
Exhaling through clenched teeth, Zachary angrily grabbed Michael's hood and pulled it off, then lightly gasped.
Eleanor and her mother slightly grimaced at what they saw. What startled the three, was Michael's eyes. Or, more specifically, the lack thereof. Michael's eye sockets were empty, dried blood caked around the holes. Curiously enough, the back of his empty eye sockets faintly glowed red, and the smell of roses intensified.
Zachary's mood transformed to anger again. He grabbed the priest by the collar and yanked him. Zachary pulled his gun's hammer back, then rammed the barrel in Michael's forehead.
"Listen here, freak...what happened to Ellie!? What happened to the Little Sister who brought me back!? WHERE IS SHE!?" Zachary screamed, spit flying out his mouth, and the veins at his temples throbbing. "You better tell me everything, or I'll put another fuckin' hole in your head!"
Sofia softly gently placed her hand on Zachary's shoulder, calming him down.
"Easy, Zachary," she whispered, "you don't need to kill him, at least not yet." Zachary looked at her, exhaling slowly. Sofia stepped beside the two men, both of them looking at her, and she slightly lowered her chin, tilted her head, and narrowed her eyes. "We should give Michael a choice. Michael, tell us everything we need to know, and live. Or, refuse our inquiries, and die."
Eleanor just watched with indifference with her one eye. Was this it? All of this trouble and suffering, just to meet some weirdo who spoke in riddles? Her mood was nothing short of disappointed. She didn't even care if Zachary killed Michael or not.
Eleanor occasionally looked back at the pews, yet the robed people just prayed away, or at least that's what they seemed to be doing. The cathedral doors were still open, and a middle-aged woman entered, but upon seeing a man with a gun, she turned around and quickly took her leave.
Michael silently and eyelessly stared back at Zachary. The priest cocked his head and grinned. Blood leaked down his face and entered his mouth, staining his teeth red. "Deus est qui regit omnia. So, there is a way to begin again, Booker..." Michael said, not answering Zachary's question, Zachary's face stiffening. "Without going back. Without making any more mistakes. Without sin or redemption. Without loss or gain. Without creating or ending a world. The synchrony of all realities... Convergence."
"Alright, I get it, you know everything...just tell me what I have to do," Zachary said calmly, but he still kept his revolver in Michael's face. Michael gestured his head at Eleanor's direction.
"Be like her. Become a Utopian. Forgive yourself, forgive Zachary, forgive Booker. Can you forgive? Can you let go?" Michael placed one hand over his heart, and his other hand on Zachary's shoulder.
Zachary thought for a few seconds.
"No. I won't forgive or let go. You don't tell me what to do, pal."
"Time is wasting, and you have only one last life to live. Do you wish to forgive your past? Do you wish to forgive yourself of your sins? Do you wish to begin again?" Michael questioned, leaning into Zachary, the two face-to-face, blue eyes meeting empty sockets.
"You've already made up your mind, didn't you?" Sofia commented, Eleanor now paying close attention to Zachary.
"Do you wish to begin again?" Michael asked.
"No," Zachary answered.
"Do you forgive yourself of your sins?"
"No."
"Do you forgive your wickedness?"
"No..."
"Do you wish to forgive yourself of your past, and begin again in the eyes of God?"
"No."
"Salus per Christum Redemptorem?"
"Wh-what? No!"
"Si Deus nobiscum, quis contra nos? Deo adjuvante non timendum."
"Listen pal, English only. Time's wasting. What are you, trying to be my friend or something?"
"Amicus usque ad aras..." Michael replied in a more sinister tone than usual.
Zachary felt Michael's hand heating up, his vision blurring. The sounds of tuning and static returned, this time quite severe, Zachary feeling blood oozing out his nose and mouse. The pain burned his brains, but it was nothing he could not handle.
"W-Wait, stop it... What did you do to me? Just, just get off! Don't touch me!" Zachary complained, ripping Michael's arm off him and walking away, holding his forehead, his eyes and mouth beaming yellow lights. His vision continued worsening, until everything was just static blurriness.
"Zachary, do you wish to forgive?" Michael demanded, walking after the debilitated Zachary and placing a hand on his head. Zachary felt a sudden weakness, shoulders drooping, and then all his veins glowed yellow. "You cannot forgive, you cannot show mercy. You are not the Lord. So I will show you, and I will for—"
Zachary shot Michael in the head, gunshot echoing powerfully. "Fuck your forgiveness."