This chapter is short. Pleassse forgive me. however, I'd like to extend a HUGE thanks to all the people who reviewed and followed this story in the time I have not uploaded!
SHOUT OUT TIME!

ICANHEARTHEDRUMS: Poor Silas indeed. He's overreacting, I thought it would be funny to have a normally stoic monk be facing internal turmoil on Sophie and the you-know-what. ;)

TEAPOT OF TRANSFORMATION: Hey, thank you very much! :) She's ill... of a sort. I don't want to post any spoilers, but let's just say I kind of needed a reason to get her alone. And if I say anything else, Imma ruin the whole story for you. Thanks for the support, hope you enjoy!

PARADOX: He's so adorable when he's sweet, isn't he? He's a HUUGE softie when it comes to that girl. Probably because she called him an angel once. :) Thank you so much! I'll try, I promise.

ROLAND5021: Thank you :'). Inferno is amazing, right? It's SUCH a good book. I like how he does that too. Our Professor Langdon certainly is a ladies' man, isn't he? Thank you for the compliment! I really wanted an Angels and Demons story but I had to have Silas and Sophie in it. I just NEEDED them in there. I'll send you a message if I ever have need of you! ;D

Thank you, lovely Followers, for being beautiful and sending this girl some love. i am eternally grateful.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE ROBERT LANGDON SERIES. :(

its a fact i have to face every time i wake up.

ONWARD, AOSHIMA!


Chapter seven

PATRICK'S POV

Silas seems unnaturally quiet as we head towards my chambers. Well, I mean, for a man who rarely speaks a word. Normally, he exudes an air of confidence, of normality, of even danger at times when he walks with his peculiar loping gait, courtesy of the cilice that he still wears around his thigh. Today, though, he walks like a man who is afraid. Though his head is still high, his eyes appear broken. He's thinking of something awful. I think to myself. I open my mouth to ask. "Silas, you okay?" but the words never pass my lips. He speaks first. "What do you think they're going to say?" He asks, voice rough and French accent thicker than I am used to. I shrug. "Who knows? This is the you know what we're talking about. They'll probably spout some nonsense that will fly over our heads." This was not entirely untrue. We would not be talking to the Grand Master, Mrs. Suniere, who had assumed the position since the death of Jacques, who spoke in unrushed tones and in a calm, clear voice, and made every bloodline related thing we had to know extremely simple. We would, however, probably be talking to her secretary, who thought we knew more than we did and always forgot to explain, normally leaving us more confused after the question than we were before. Not to mention, the man was always quick to pull the blame trigger on Silas. The monk normally put up with the abuse in the same stony face he always did, but today, I worried that something might happen. Between the Pope's death, Illuminati's strike, Sophie's faint, the nurse not allowing us to be near her afterwards, and the now-broken look in his eyes, to say I had faith that all would go well during this phone call would be a complete and utter lie.

Lying is a sin.

And that is precisely the reason why I kept my mouth shut as we reached my chambers. The door swung open under my touch and we silently moved to the Pope's office, where no ears would hear our voices.

And even though I was confident in my abilities to speak with the Priory of Scion, even I could not stop my fingers from trembling slightly as I punched in the numbers.


Time skip: a half hour

It is now 6 O'clock pm


PATRICK'S POV

It's six in the evening, and Sophie still hasn't come back from the infirmary. Although I know she's with people who will keep her safe, I still can't stop myself from becoming worried. Silas and I wait in my chambers, near the door. Having just received the call from Commander Richter's secretary; who told us "The Commander, Professor Langdon, and Vittoria Vetra are on their way down," we wait in silence. Three raps on the door call us out of our reverie, and I exchange a glance with Silas. Despite the verbal abuse the poor monk just put up with, he still manages to look calm, even supportive, as he looks at me. I give him a half smile, he quirks his lips in response, and moves so that he's sitting on a couch. Now, when they enter, those who are unaccustomed to seeing the monk will be less surprised by his presence. Steeling myself, I remind myself that remember, you are the one in charge of this Church. The Pope is dead and your family is threatened. Be strong. You have to be strong! Taking a deep breath once more, I set my hand on the heavy brass knob and begin to pull.

What lies for me on the other side, I have no idea.