When the Blue Lions and their soldiers had finally arrived back at Garreg Mach, it came as no surprise to both Kratos and Mimir when one of the guards informed them that the Archbishop wished to see them as soon as they passed through the giant wooden doors. Once the matter at Conand Tower had finally been dealt with, Gilbert had sent a messenger straight back to the Monastery to inform Rhea on the success of the mission; and both professors had suspected that she'd also been made aware as to what exactly happened in their confrontation with Miklan and his gang.

Their suspicion was quickly confirmed as they made their way upstairs toward the Audience Chamber. Down the long hallway, the Archbishop and her right hand were seen speaking with church soldiers before the sight of the white brigand caught Seteth's eye, who turned and began whispering into Rhea's ear. At once, the Archbishop straightened, standing more attentively as the newly arrived professors marched heavily toward them. Yet, despite the furious scowl darkening Kratos' face, Rhea showed no sign of worry or concern.

Their conversation came to an abrupt halt as Kratos entered the chamber, his gaze locked onto the Archbishop. Some of the soldiers exchanged uncertain glances between the towering, tattooed man and their leader. One of them hesitated before stepping forward.

"My Lady, would you like us to escort this man away-"

He was abruptly cut off.

"No." She said coldly, her eyes narrowing derisively at the man and the head he carried. "Everyone- leave us."

"M-My Lady?" Another soldier spoke.

Seteth needed only to look once at the Spartan's reproving expression before turning to face the Archbishop. "Lady Rhea, perhaps it would be more prudent if we discussed this at another-"

"That will not be necessary," she interjected, her sharp gaze cutting off any further protest. "In the meantime, I wish to speak with Professor Kratos and Professor ,if you would, my dear Seteth."

Seteth's lips pressed into a thin line, his hesitation barely concealed. His gaze flicked between Rhea and Kratos before he gave a slow, reluctant nod. "As you wish, Lady Rhea," he said stiffly before turning to the gathered soldiers. "You heard her. Dismissed."

The knights exchanged wary glances but obeyed without question, filing out of the chamber one by one behind Seteth. Rhea remained still, watching the last soldier disappear down the hall where the stairs waited and silence filled the air.

Finally, she then turned to Kratos and said in a low voice. "Follow me." Without another word, she began walking toward a door off to the right of the Audience Chamber where her personal quarters awaited. Kratos watched her for a brief moment, his expression still rife with suspicion before letting out a grunt and began to follow her.

Once he passed through the door, the Archbishop closed it softly behind her, despite how clearly eager she was to secure as much privacy as possible. Kratos turned and unclipped Mimir from his hip, the two gods watching as Rhea remained still, her gaze fixed on the door she had just closed. Yet, she said nothing, as though waiting for them to speak- knowing full well what was on their minds.

It was Kratos who was the one to do so.

"You have withheld information." He said in a manner that only someone close to him would consider to be calm. "Why?"

Unbeknownst to them, Rhea closed her eyes for a brief moment, letting out a silent breath before finally speaking. "What you saw," she said, her voice steady but laced with something unreadable, "was supposed to have never happened in the first place."

"Aye, but it did." Mimir spoke up with equal strain in his voice. "And this whole time, you knew. You were aware it was a possibility, and yet, you knowingly and willingly denied us that information."

The Archbishop suddenly turned on the two men, her eyes narrowing even further. "I was not obligated to share what was never meant to occur. What I choose to disclose is at my discretion, not yours."

"It almost cost the life of one of my students!" Kratos snapped, taking a step towards her. "We. Had. A deal."

Rhea did not flinch, nor seem to react at all. Instead, she continued to meet the Spartan's gaze with contempt before marching stiffly past him. "Our deal was that I would ensure your student's safety here within the Monastery." She told him venomously as she walked to the center of the exquisite room before turning on her heels. "And if my reports are accurate, you were the one who allowed the younger Gautier to engage with his brother. It was you who stood aside and let him take on a battle that was never his to fight alone."

Mimir let out an incredulous huff. "Oh, that is rich, My Lady. You withhold information, Kratos makes a call with what little he knew, and now you act as if this was all on him?"

Rhea's eyes flicked toward the severed head, her expression still eerily composed. "I sent him to stop Miklan. Had he done so swiftly, none of this would have happened. Instead, he chose to indulge his student, and in doing so, he put himself and everyone else at risk."

Kratos' fists clenched, but his voice remained steady. "I trained them to stand on their own. You would rather they be kept weak?"

"I would rather they never faced such horrors at all."

"Then why the secrecy?"

"Because," Rhea said bitterly. "Should the people discover that using a Relic would turn its user into a monster, they will lose faith in the nobles, and all regions of Fodlan will descend into chaos."

Mimir let out a dry, sarcastic chuckle. "Ah, of course. And that, I suppose, just gives you all the more reason to hold on to your petty little secrets in order to maintain power, eh? Because clearly, we could not be trusted to act accordingly if we actually knew what was at stake."

Rhea's expression twitched. Even Kratos turned his gaze toward Mimir, who instantly regretted the words the moment they left his lips. The composure the Archbishop had so carefully maintained began to crack, the edges fraying as her gaze darkened. Kratos' eyes narrowed as he caught the faint flicker of something he had seen once before during the first time they'd sparred.

Her voice carried a sharp, biting tone as she seethed. "And what, pray tell, makes you entitled to the knowledge I possess? Do you, a couple of outsiders, truly believe yourselves worthy of understanding the full extent of what I know?" She took a step forward, her emerald eyes burning.

Tension filled the air, and by this point, Mimir did one of the rare sensible things by opting not to speak after what he'd just said. However, the fire in Rhea's eyes soon flickered and faded, as if struck by sudden realization. Her expression shifted, and she slowly recomposed herself before closing her eyes and inhaled deeply.

"Seteth," she called out. "Come in, please."

A brief pause followed before the door creaked open. Seteth stepped through cautiously, his gaze shifting between Rhea, Kratos, and Mimir. He closed the door behind him, his posture stiff as he cleared his throat.

"My apologies, Lady Rhea," he said carefully. "I was… merely concerned about your well-being."

Despite the recent surge of emotion that had momentarily cracked her composure, Rhea managed to offer Seteth a small, reassuring smile.

"Thank you, my dear Seteth. But rest assured, I am by no means in any danger." Her gaze then lowered to the severed head still clutched in Kratos' hand. "Professor Mimir," she continued, her tone steady, "I would like to speak with you in private." She then added, sounding as though she were on the verge of pleading. "Please."

Mimir, who had been resting in Kratos' grasp, looked as though he had just realized he may have gone too far with his accusations earlier. His usual sharpness dulled, and after a brief pause, he let out a small sigh.

"Aye, no trouble at all," he said, his voice unusually subdued. Then, raising his gaze to look up at Kratos, he added, "Don't worry about me, brother. I'll be just fine."

The Spartan, who at first seemed completely against the idea of leaving Mimir alone with the Archbishop, reluctantly made a noise as if to capitulate before setting the Norse god's head down on the rich and exquisite vanity table near the door.

"Thank you." Said the woman. "Seteth, Kratos, you may go now."

With a slow exhale, the Spartan finally turned and stepped through the door without another word, with his heavy footfalls echoing through the chamber. After a brief hesitancy, Seteth soon followed suit and the door behind them, leaving the Archbishop and the Norse god alone in the room.

The moment Mimir heard the door click shut, he grimaced. "Lady Rhea, about earlier," he started apologetically. "I was out of line with that remark, and for that, I-"

"You do not need to apologize," Rhea interrupted, her voice softer than before. She finally turned to face him fully, her hands clasped in front of her. "I am the one who should be sorry… for allowing all of this to happen."

Mimir studied her for a moment before his eyes fell to the floor. "Nay. Despite the situation, I was in the wrong," he admitted. "It is unbecoming of a professor to lose his temper like that, no matter how justified I may have felt."

"Even so," the Archbishop told him, "you had the right to be upset."

She turned away and approached the stained glass window overlooking the monastery. "I want to be as transparent as possible with you and Kratos. You have both more than earned that much." She clasped her hands together, her fingers tightening slightly. "But when you have kept a secret for so long… when its very nature has the power to undermine the faith of an entire society…" She trailed off, exhaling quietly. "It is not so simple."

Rhea remained silent for a moment. "I know what it is that upsets you, Mimir."

Mimir arched his brow. "Oh? And what might that be, Lady Rhea?" He paused before adding, "Or should I say…Lady Seiros?"

A small, amused smile tugged at Rhea's lips. "You are rather cheeky for a man in your position."

"Aye, well, I do try," Mimir quipped, though his tone carried no bite to it. "Now go on, humor me."

Rhea's smile faded, and she turned her gaze back toward the window. "You believe I am complicit in the structure of Fodlan's hierarchy- the nobility, the Crests, the belief that those who bear them are superior to those who do not." She let out a quiet breath. "But the truth is… I never wanted Crests to play such a role. Not in the church, not in the nobility, not in Fodlan itself."

Mimir remained quiet, listening.

"In fact," The Archbishop continued, her voice sharpening, "I resent that they exist at all." Her fingers curled slightly against her palm. "Crests were not meant to be a gift to humanity. They were the remnants of something far worse that should have never happened." Her expression darkened, old bitterness creeping into her tone. "And yet, humanity clings to them as a blessing; exalting themselves and perverting them into something that I would never have allowed-" She stops herself before taking a deep inhale through her nostrils. By this point, Mimir could feel a strong aura emanating from the woman, whose face tightened and her pupils contracted.

Mimir took a moment to weigh his words carefully, watching the way Rhea's breath steadied and the tension in her frame barely eased.

"Tell me, then, Lady Rhea." he finally said. "Is there something you wish to get off your chest?"

At this, the Archbishop scoffed, a small, suppressive smile pulling at her lips. "Are you offering me counsel, Professor?"

The head chuckled lightly. "Given my current state, I have had a long time to become a good listener." He smirked, though his voice remained steady. "And besides, you are not the only one who once believed that shouldering your burdens alone is the only way forward."

Rhea crossed her arms and her brows furrowed. Her gaze still fixed on the fortress beyond the stained glass, and a long silence stretched between them before she finally spoke.

"Humanity took everything from me," she said outright, her voice steady at first but quickly laced with growing vitriol. "My mother… she tried. She tried to tame them, to teach them, to guide them away from their selfish and violent nature. She gave them wisdom, she gave how did they repay her?" Her fingers dug into her arms as she clenched her jaw.

"They butchered her. Slaughtered my people with no hesitation, no remorse. Indiscriminately. Without reason beyond their own greed and arrogance." Her breathing had grown heavier, her chest rising and falling as the raw hatred in her voice became impossible to suppress. "We were gods to them, yet they treated us no differently than beasts to be hunted and poached. And now, they have the audacity to use their remains as mere tools in their never-ending squabble for power-!"

From Mimir's point of view, the fire in Rhea's eyes was unmistakable. Rage, grief, and centuries of unresolved anguish spilled forth as though a dam had finally cracked open. But beneath all of it, he saw something else. For just a fleeting moment, past the seething hatred and righteous fury, he saw the expression of a small child staring into the abyss left behind by everything she had once known, as though reliving the moment she witnessed the desecration of a loved one's corpse for the first time.

Then, she turned toward him.

The second her eyes met his, realization struck. As if snapping from a trance, she blinked, and in an instant, the mask was back. The fury smoothed into composure once more and Rhea exhaled through her nose, closing her eyes briefly before shaking her head.

"Forgive me," she murmured, her voice calmer, though still laced with exhaustion. "Seteth is the only person I have ever confided in… but never to this extent."

Mimir didn't respond immediately. "Aye… that much, I can tell."

Rhea let out a quiet sigh. "Seteth has always been willing to listen when I needed it," she admitted distantly. "But… he could never truly understand the pain I have suffered all those years ago. Not fully." Her emerald eyes darkened. "He was not there when Zanado had been sacked and pillaged. He did not see what I saw. And so… he does not bear the same hatred that I do."

Her fingers loosened slightly and she spoke again. "This may be a redundant question, given your condition, But have you ever felt nothing but hatred toward those who did this to you?"

"Aye," Mimir admitted, albeit reluctantly. "I won't lie to you, My Lady. I feel nothing but contempt for the man responsible for my ordeal." His voice tightened with old bitterness. "I had been wronged, cast aside, and tortured in ways that would drive any pure heart to madness.

"But…" he continued, his tone shifting, "that man- he's long since paid for his injustices. Whatever vengeance I may have once sought, it has already come and gone. And all I can do now…" He paused before finishing, "All I can do now is try to make up for my own mistakes; to make sure I don't inflict that same pain onto others."

The Archbishop tilted her head curiously at the horned man resting on her vanity desk.

"Apparently, you and I have more in common than I had anticipated," she said in a way that almost resembled amusement, but the moment passed quickly, and was replaced by something more solemn. "However," she continued, "I am well aware of how vehemently you disagree with my way of governing." She turned back toward the window. "When the Church of Seiros had been founded, my intention was to mitigate the damage that Nemesis had caused."

Her gaze lowered slightly. "The people of Fodlan needed something to unite them. A belief that could stabilize what had become of this land after the war. But… over time, its influence has waned significantly."

The Norse god continued to watch the Nabatean as she closed her eyes and lowered her head solemnly. But then, a genuine smile suddenly crept across her face as though a thought suddenly came to her, and she said optimistically, "But very soon, none of that will even matter."

Hearing this caused Mimir to raise a brow at her sudden turn and subsequent comment, and he couldn't help but make a coughing noise before speaking up. "And, em, if I may, Lady Rhea… What exactly do you mean by that, exactly?"

Rhea's expression had shifted completely. Gone was the solemnity, replaced by something akin to an eager-like couldn't place why, but the sudden shift unsettled him. She cleared her throat, straightening her posture as she turned and strode toward the vanity desk so that she was standing directly in front of him.

"I understand," she said smoothly, "that I have not yet fully earned your trust, nor Kratos'. And I do not expect you to give it freely now."

Mimir remained silent, eyeing her warily as she continued.

"But there will come a time when I must make a decision- one that you and Kratos will not like." She met his gaze, unwavering. "However, I will remind you of the terms we agreed upon. You both swore not to meddle in my affairs so long as they did not affect your students."

Mimir let out a dry, humorless chuckle. "Aye, that we did. But forgive me, Lady Rhea, if that is not exactly what I'd call reassuring."

Rhea did not react to the skepticism in his tone. "When the time comes, you will have nothing to fear. Of that, I can reassure you."

Mimir narrowed his eyes. "And why, pray tell, should I believe that?"

Rhea's smile returned, serene and pleasant. "Because, when that time comes, you and Kratos will be able to return to your home world… just as I had promised."