On top of the stage a cultist wearing a more elaborate robe stepped forward, he also wore some kind of quasi-leather cape flowing down behind him. He stood directly under the gas cloud and gripped the pedestal. ‘Greetings pilgrims,’ his voice escaped the crow-like mask with surprising clarity, crisp and clean. A dignified cadence. ‘Although. Should I rather call you trespassers? Would you prefer that?’

Gunnar hesitated, but stepped up out of the stairwell. There was no point hiding now, though he still held his gun prepared, he could not see a single cultist with a weapon even here. ‘If I knew we would get such a warm welcome I wouldn’t have snuck around.’

‘The Gospel has always presented itself peacefully, is the world so hostile these days that such a statement is unpalatable?’

The mercenary scoffed. ‘More like impossible. Besides I know what that gas can do that you hide in your suits. I wish I didn’t, but I do.’ Technically Aethel saw it, Gunnar only glimpsed it, but he believed his friend.

The robed man in front of them paused. He was clearly the leader of this group in whatever capacity that might be. He turned to look up at his “God” then turned back to them. ‘Accepting our God, embracing their great gifts, it is not a perfect process.’

Kat laughed. ‘Well no shit. You’re probably being brainwashed by a giant cloud into destroying your bodies.’

He nodded. ‘You are not wrong. It is indeed a form of brainwashing, but not what you are thinking. I accepted Puinsee into my mind. We all did. Then, they blessed us with peace, tranquillity in their name. I am still very much me, just… more at peace.’

Gunnar saw his friend’s fist clench and her teeth grit. The sisters suffered at the hands of similar nonsense when they were young, there was a reason they only had their uncle left. ‘Bullshit. I also saw what that blessing does. I saw it burn a man, send him to the hospital. I saw one of your own disintegrate into nothing. There’s nothing tranquil about that!’ Gunnar grabbed her wrist to stop her swinging at the cultists around her. Each one stood still, unspeaking.

The cult leader bowed his head. ‘I see, we do not mean for any to suffer, that is why we wear our suits, but still, I can only apologise,’ he looked back up at them. ‘What you saw was no trick. Embracing our lord’s gift changes you. Alters your very body, but I can promise you, it does not weaken us. If one of our own passes on they would have passed on regardless. It also comes with… Other benefits.’

He stepped forward past the podium and stood just in front of the steps down. Then, reached up and grasped the corners of his mask. With a hiss, he pulled it from his face. A small puff of concentrated gas escaped and rushed to the roof above, burning a small hole into it.

The cultist leader’s face was pale and wrinkled. Creases from years of life and white hair. The lower half of his neck was tinted green as was the skin around his eyes. Yet his eyes themselves were full of life, more so than most of the other followers of Puinsee. He wore a kind smile. ‘How old do I appear to you?’

Even though he was still busy keeping Kat from punching the closest cultist, Gunnar shrugged with his free arm. ‘Old? Like, fifty or sixty or so? Though I gotta imagine far older given the question.’

He chuckled. ‘Well spotted. Yes, quite a bit older. In fact, I’m almost three hundred years old.’

Kat stopped struggling long enough to gasp. Gunnar joined her. He even heard Nati make a noise through the earpiece. Sure, nobles could live a long time thanks to modifications and genework, they could even potentially live for three hundred years themselves, but they would be on their last legs. Near death and bed bound. The man in front of them might have had a few skin issues, but he looked younger than Old Bill.

‘You’re telling me that’s your God’s doing?’ Kat asked, her cadence completely changing.

He smiled, placing his hands over his stomach. ‘Yes. I was a noble, already old when the old regime fell. I found myself devastated, devoid of purpose and life. When I finally found a corner to shrivel and die in, Puinsee found me, gave me purpose, gave me life. I don’t know if I am their first follower, but for this church at least, I have worked as their speaker ever since.’

Gunnar regained his composure. ‘You’re being… Very open.’

‘Well. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but we carry no weapons. I’d rather you trust us than murder us, isn’t truth the first step to trust?’ he answered clearly.

Gunnar clenched his fist around the handle of his gun. ‘In my experience, this kinda truth only comes from those confident they’re about to win a fight,’ he growled.

The so-called speaker’s expression turned to sadness. ‘Please, stranger. We do not even harm those that harm us, not on purpose at least.’ His eyes pleaded for peace.

There was rage boiling in Gunnar, perhaps at the same level as Kats, but he tried to keep it down. ‘Then what harm did my friend’s family do to you?!’

He recoiled back, brows knotting in confusion. ‘Your.. Friend’s family?’

‘The Grant family…’

The speaker’s eyes widened and his arms dropped limp by his side. ‘Oh.’ He closed his eyes, his mouth curled down, looking as if he could cry at any moment. ‘That… It was a tragedy, one I could not prevent. Not before it was too late. Please. Those responsible are long gone from this place. This you must believe.’

Kat grips a nearby bench, cracking it under her barely contained rage. ‘Believe you? Then tell us, who was it? Who should we be going after?’

The Speaker stopped speaking. He seemed to be deliberating something, he looked up at his God, then nodded. ‘I do not agree with violence. Nor can I condone murder against one that used to be closest to me. Alas, it is not my place to decide such things in this situation.’ He took a deep breath and opened his mouth, but before he could Natis’ voice rang through Gunnars head.

‘Shit! Gunnar look the fuck out!’ A few bricks exploded through the wall of the church and flew into the shadows behind the speaker. There was a grunt of pain as the huge body of Puppet emerged from the shadows. It was as if they had materialised in, there was no indication they were there, no sign, nothing.

Gunnar started running, they needed these people alive right now. ‘Get down!’ he yelled at the Speaker.

Instead, the Speaker merely turned his head, to see the hulking beast tower over him. ‘I’ve often heard it said that ignorance is also a sin,’ Puppet mused before driving their bladed tail through the chest of the Speaker. They lifted the Speaker to their face, pinned on the end of their tail. ‘And you are such a great sinner, Nathaniel Church.’ Puppet tossed the man aside, throwing him at great speed into a nearby wall causing it to crack. Though the mercenary noticed something, the end of Puppet’s tail was sizzling.

A shot rang out, this time nailing Puppet in the side of the head, causing them to stumble. It had dented their skull, but not pierced it, not killed them, it wasn’t enough. Still, he didn’t waste time using the opportunity, running towards the metal beast, letting a burst of his own bullets fly towards them. Kat ran beside him, forcing her gauntlets to charge up. With each shot, Gunnar could see his new bullets affecting Puppet, lots of small dents, grunts of pain. They certainly felt it a lot more than they did before. This was an improvement at least.

Behind Puppet, the Gospel were in panic, but, almost in unison, jumped into action despite the chaos. Several ran to their speaker, the rest formed a circle around the cloud, perhaps in a futile attempt to protect it. The cloud itself had sprouted long and thick tendrils, long enough that they couldn’t have possibly fit into the space they burst from. Each one threw slaps at Puppet, though they seemed nothing more than a nuisance.

Puppet shrugged off the attacks before darting towards Gunnar. A swift uppercut from Kats’ powered fist caused the great beast to stumble backwards, their chin smoking, but even that did not hold them back for long. ‘I thought you weren’t going to kill us?’ Gunnar yelled at him, narrowly avoiding a distanced tail swipe.

‘Sinners you may not be, but you appear determined to be mine enemies,’ they replied in a calm voice, beginning a relentless assault on Gunnar.

Without enhancements, Gunnar had to rely on good old fashioned human capabilities to dodge Puppets attacks, which wouldn’t last him long. He dodged a claw, then another tail swipe just as the free hand ripped at his shoulder tearing flesh and muscle. Gunnar grimaced and shot a burst straight into Puppet’s tail.

The tail was repelled back and grasped by Kat who tugged on it with all her strength. Puppet was pulled back, struggling against Kat’s enhanced strength. They growled as they turned and began to swipe at her.

As the two proceeded to trade blows, Gunnar fired round after round into their torso, trying to find a weak spot, their face, their legs, anywhere at this point. ‘Why are you here?! Why the fucking Cultists?!’ he yelled at the beast, but got no answer. They were silently locked in their fight asides from grunts and growls. He couldn’t work out why they were here or how they were here. What did the Gospel do that put them on Puppet’s sinner list?

Then, it hit him. As he looked for a weak spot, Gunnar had somehow missed the most obvious sign, Puppets tail. He had noticed it earlier, why had it only just hit him? Their tail was rusted where the Speaker’s blood lay. The tips had turned brown and had already begun eroding. He had to test just how eroded. ‘Nat. Aim for the tip of the tail,’ he whispered into his earpiece.

‘You want that you need to slow the fuckers movement.’

He understood of course, no matter how good you are no one could hit something flailing around like Puppets tail was currently. Gunnar slapped his cheeks and ran for the Sinman’s legs grappling the one closest to him. He pointed at the other one. ‘Grab it!’ he yelled at Kat.

Kat didn’t waste time asking questions, instead she dodged through another swing and thrust a full body punch into the back of Puppets free knee. Even the beast couldn’t get away from that one unflinching.

They toppled to their knees yelling in pain, giving Kat time to grab their other leg. She was going to be the anchor in this situation, but that was fine, anything right now was a risky decision.

Puppet looked down to Gunnar with glowering eyes visible even through their twisted metal skin. Their tail flew towards him, which luckily was exactly what Gunnar planned. He jumped back, letting the tail slice through his waist with a surprising blood splatter, then grasped it. ‘YOU HOLD IT TOO!’ he shouted at Kat behind him who leapt into action and held the struggling tail, digging her heels into the floor.

‘NOW!’ Gunnar yelled through gritted teeth and, with no delay, a final armour piercing shot drove the room to silence as it shattered the tip of Puppet’s tail.

Gunnar let go of the tail without thinking. He didn’t expect it to work and judging by the silence in the room neither did anyone else. Puppet muttered something under their breath and easily shook off the shocked Kat, jumping away from them. They glared at the mercenaries, then back at their tail and finally at the cultists in the church around them. They were right, or rather, Aethel was. Whatever poison Puinsee forced upon its followers was effective against even Puppet’s bizarre armour. Which begged the question of why the Gospel had been left alive.

The Sinman stood up tall, shaking slightly thanks to their new found pain. ‘I feel at the least I should congratulate you,’ they said scanning the mercenaries’ faces. Gunnar couldn’t tell whether that was actual pride or well disguised rage.

Their tail flickered back and forth, spraying a mixture of blood and what looked like oil on the floor behind them. Gunnar was prepared for another attack, another fight. He could see the cultists preparing themselves, searching through their small lab-like area on the walkways above. Puppet though, their attention turned to something else outside the church.

‘Ahh. Our other guests have arrived.’ There was a kind of glee in their voice causing Gunnar some discomfort.

He felt the earpiece buzz and some commotion on the other end of it. ‘Fuck. For some reason the Undercity Fronts here. You two didn’t send out the signal right?’ Nati asked them through the crackles.

A sense of unease crashed over the mercenary. Puppet knew they were coming and they were far too calm about it too. The Front had access to decent equipment and some big loud toys. Even the great Sinman couldn’t escape from that unscathed and they had already received a big hit. So why didn’t they care?

The militia burst into the room, a dozen of them, each one pointing their weapon at a different huddle of people. Most, almost involuntarily aimed at Puppet. ‘Drop your weapons and stand down!’ They ordered the whole room. They were being as professional as they could, but Gunnar still noticed the ones looking at the metal beast or the literal God-cloud were not holding on well.

Behind them Aethel walked in with the chief. He looked around and immediately locked onto Puppet, trying to murder him with nothing but a gaze. ‘Guessing this is Puppet.’

‘Well guessed,’ Gunnar replied.

Like the rest of the militia, Aethel was trying to suppress a tremble in his hands, though whether it was fear or rage Gunnar could not tell. ‘So, I finally get to meet you, felt a bit left out really. But, what exactly are you doing here?’

Puppet let out something resembling a laugh, or maybe it was simply a sound to denote his disapproval. ‘The question you should be asking my dear boy, is who is it you should be here to arrest. As I’m assuming that’s your goal?’

Aethel squinted at Puppet then looked at the rest of the room, he lifted his pistol up, even with his other arm still in a cast, the man wasn’t afraid to fight. ‘And what do you mean by that?’

‘Are they not criminals? Murderers hiding deep in a mine to shy away from the atrocities they have committed. Blood of acid and poison, they are…’ Puppet looked at their tail and growled. ‘Sinners.’

Aethels turned his gun to the cultists and gritted his teeth. ‘I fucking knew it. You bastards killed my family? Didn’t you!?’

Gunnar stepped in front of Aethel and grasped his shoulders. ‘Aethel don’t! Listen to me. They’re not the ones responsible. Those that are, are long gone, you hear me?’

Aethel looked at Gunnar and back at the cultists. He pushed him aside. ‘So you’re saying they let the ones that did it go? How is that any better?!’ Kat grabs the back of his collar.

‘Stop! Are you really going to listen to that bastard?’ She growled pointing at Puppet.

He struggled against her strength, turning his head . ‘Kat, are you really gonna stop me from avenging my family?’ he pleaded with his friend.

Gunnar breathed a frustrated sigh. ‘Listen to yourself man. My family was killed in a riot, does that mean I should shoot up every crowd of rioters I see? These people are unrelated, do you understand?’

Aethel stopped struggling and his shoulders grew limp, collapsing into Kat’s arms, he still looked angry, but tears welled up in his eyes. ‘Then what the fuck do you want me to do man?’

The mercenary looked behind him, pointing out the Speaker to his friend. ‘Just listen him out, at least, yeah?’ Aethel followed Gunnar’s finger and solemnly nodded his head.

The tension levelled out a little bit, and Aethel’s friends breathed a sigh of relief. Except, Gunnar didn’t feel much relief, Puppet had been silent this entire time, just watching them. Sure the militia had a few rocket launchers trained on them, but he was sure that Puppet could survive them.

As if like clockwork, Puppet unleashed the same sound they had before, only more sinister to Gunnar’s ears, a cruel laugh if he had ever heard one. ‘Interesting. What’s your name, little soldier?’

Aethel went to open his mouth but Gunnar stopped him. Something wasn’t right. ‘That’s not your business.’

Puppet scratched their chin. ‘I had no interest in you before, just a friend of the Mercenaries, but perhaps…’ Puppet glanced at the three friends in turn.

Besides them there was a firm but loud clap, echoing in the church. ‘Now I don’t usually get involved in my officers’ dramas, but does anyone want to tell me what exactly is going on?’ The chief had walked over, her arms crossed. ‘And what in glam hell is that?’ she pointed at the Sinman.

Somehow, Puppet stayed silent, perhaps even they were worried about what would happen if this entire room turned on them. Aethel gathered himself and stood in front of his superior. ‘I’m sorry ma’am. I wasn’t trying to keep it from you, but you already had so much going on… I… I was just going to wait a little longer to explain it to you.’

She tapped her fingers against her folded arm impatiently. ‘Well… You can explain it now.’

Aethel looked at Puppet behind him, he limply pointed at the beast. ‘That’s the Sinman Chief. Amongst other things. We also believe they were behind the Glass Park assassination.’

Chief Finch raised an eyebrow, she walked past Aethelstan and patted his shoulders as she did. ‘We’ll talk about why you kept this from me later. In the meantime…’ She looked up at Puppet who towered over her. ‘I’m curious as to whether you’ll admit to your crimes, cus my subordinate ain’t a fool.’

Puppet’s tail flicked around like an agitated cat. ‘I admit to it, but I won’t pretend it’s a crime to punish the guilty.’

‘Is that why you’re doing it then? Because they were all guilty?’ She scoffed. ‘What a load of crocshit.’

There was tension, then slowly Puppet knelt down, going at a snail’s pace, perhaps to avoid a few rockets flying into their face. ‘I’m sure you have sins too, Chief. There’s no one in power that doesn’t.’ They stood back up and looked around. ‘I have a few people to look into now, I hope your slates are as clean as you like to pretend.’

Finch looked confused. ‘What the fuck are you t-’

‘Finch look out!’ Gunnar yelled, leaping into her side and tackling her to the ground just as Puppets broken tail swiped over them, at a speed few had noticed.

Then using the panic, Puppet darted for the wall at the back of the church away from the militia. Several rockets fired without delay, two striking their target and one hitting the wall the beast was running to, blasting a small hole that they hastedly widened to make their escape. Before they disappeared out of sight, Gunnar noticed that a few of their fingers had been blown off and a small crater now sat in the small of their back. The rockets did actually work against them.

The chief under Gunnar pushed him off. ‘Shit! After it you bastards!’

The rest of the officers scrambled to reload and chase Puppet as they had to crawl around the entire cavern to get to the exit. Finch stood up and pulled out her own pistol. ‘Thanks Vaen,’ she glanced at Aethel. ‘We still need to have a talk later.’ She ran out after the rest of her men.

As the commotion began to fade into distant sounds, Gunnar used the opportunity to pocket the tip of Puppets tail that lay mangled on the ground, wrapping it in a bit of cloth as it was still a little sharp. There was a stain in its place on the ground, viscous red blood and some kind of dark oil. He thought about trying to pocket that too, but he didn’t carry around glass jars and he didn’t really think it was the right time to ask the cultists for a glass of water or something.

Said cultists were crowded around their leader, the man that called himself a Speaker. A few militia had stayed behind, a guard with a rifle and a medic. The speaker raised his hand to the medic who was kneeling down at his side. ‘Don’t get too close. The gas escaping my wound could kill you.’

The medic hesitated and seemed a little confused and just a tad horrified. He paused and reached into his medical supplies to pull out a gas mask. He pointed towards it, making the Speaker smile. ‘That won’t quite do.’

‘Shi-’ Kat cursed as Aethel escaped her now loose grasp. Both Gunnar and Kat reached out to stop him as he pushed through the small crowd to come to the Speakers side. ‘What happened to my family?’ His fist was balled, shaking.

The speaker looked up at the man confronting him, the militia medic now examining the wound with several layers of protection now on. ‘So it’s you,’ his voice swelled with regret. ‘You should step back too child, you’re not immune.’ He sat up coughing, despite the medic’s protests.

Aethel knelt before him. ‘Please, you gotta tell me whilst you still can.’

The Speaker began to laugh in between coughs. ‘Ah. You all think I’m going to die. Don’t worry. My lord’s gifts can fix this level of wound. Though I may suffer from bed rest for a while.’

The other two stepped forward now. Gunnar had held back, he’d now seen what that gas could do and aged gas? Who knows. He literally didn’t know, it was very far from his knowledge. The mercenary caught his mind from wandering too far as they reached the centre of the crowd. ‘Are you like, immortal then?’

A group of cultists had appeared behind them carrying archaic medical beds, two to be exact. One pair walked towards them, another to a follower of the Gospel hunched over by the wall where Puppet had escaped. They began helping the Speaker on to it, who continued to talk as they did. ‘No, no, there’s no such thing as immortal. As long as I’ve lived, anyone who claimed such things has found themself a corpse after not long. If my head is cut from my body or if you do enough to me I’ll die I’m sure.’ He turned to look back at Aethel. ‘Listen child. There’s… a lot I need to to tell you, and I’m …not… not in the position right now. If you can wait a few hours I think I’ll be recovered enough… to talk.’ The last few words that escaped his lips were forced out, a struggle for him to speak. Gunnar hadn’t tried to talk with a hole through the middle of his torso before, but he could certainly understand why it might be a struggle.

Aethel gritted his teeth. He struggled with his anger, he always had, no matter how righteous he may have felt. ‘I’ll wait,’ he replied, then he looked at his friends. Gunnar simply threw his arms up and sat down on a nearby pew.

Kat fiddled with her gauntlet. ‘I didn’t have any more plans tonight. Neither does Nati.’

‘Don’t speak for me,’ Nati grumbled through the headset as the corner of Kat’s mouth curled up.

Unable to handle the loving friendship, the militia officer in question looked away from them. ‘I’m gonna go catch Chief Finch, let her know I’m staying back.’ He jogged off through the front door, past a few cultists.

Nearby the Speaker was being hauled off to the stairs, along with the other follower and a militia member. Two of the three weren’t moving. Though, two dead in an attack from Puppet wasn’t a bad result. The mercenary lent back on the wooden pew, it wasn’t the most comfortable, but it worked for cracking his back.

There was a sense of relief lifted from his shoulder, the Undercity Front now knew of Puppet, someone else shared the burden, somehow else was looking out for them… Well, technically Walthers people were too, but from what the old man had said they weren’t exactly fighters.

Next to him, the seat creaked as a small body sat down. He opened one eye to see Nati, who sat staring at the cloud, at Puinsee. ‘I mean shit. That’s Puinsee right?’ She looked at Gunnar, panicked. ‘Like an actual God chilling right in front of us.’

Another larger body sat next to her, her sister. She reached out her arm. ‘Nat. I’m bleeding.’

Quickly, Nati was back to her usual self as she slapped her sister. ‘I’m having a fuckin’ existential journey here and you’re worried about some minor scrapes?’ She grabbed her sister’s arm and forced it across her lap, pulling bandages from her pocket.

Gunnar loosened a silent snort. He turned his own attention to Puinsee, to the apparent God in front of him. He didn’t have time to really process it before, not fully, not with everything going on, but Nati wasn’t wrong. For all intents and purposes this was a God, right in front of them. Or at the very least a very bizarre and very alien lifeform. Seemingly powerful too.

The mercenary lent in towards his friends. ‘Did you notice that the Speaker seemed to be able to, like, what, hear it? I can’t hear a damn thing.’

‘I can answer that, if you desire.’ A nearby cultist had overheard Gunnar, she was nearby cleaning some of the debris.

Kat sucked through her teeth as her sister disinfected her wound, but her attention turned to the crow faced cultist. ‘Are you okay to just, spill your people’s secrets like that?’

She sat down on a nearby chair, her movement came across as smooth and elegant. ‘We have no secrets. Not really.’

‘Your whole church was a literal secret,’ Kat replied deadpan.

There was no way to read the woman’s expression, but her posture said volumes and it said she was a little embarrassed. ‘Well yes, I suppose there is that. Truthfully we only hide ourselves to protect our way of life and to protect our God.’ She looked up at Puinsee. ‘Do you think most of those gangs up in the city would just leave us be? The nobles? At the very least a God is competition for the powerful.’

Kat seemed satisfied with her answer. ‘So now that we’ve already found you you’re just going to spill?’

‘Now that we know you aren’t going to kill us or our lord, what reason would we have not to? It’s not as if we could force out a group of skilled mercenaries even if we wanted to.’ The three mercenaries in question didn’t have much to say to that, they all knew that as it stood, they would win a fight here if it came down to it. Gunnar also knew that of course the fight was gone from all three of them… Well maybe not Natalia, she would fight a lamp post if she walked into it.

‘So, you were going to tell us about how Puin- How your lord talks?’ Gunnar asked, correcting what he assumed was something offensive.

She chuckled heartily. ‘Oh please, you don’t have to worry about that. We call our Lord such as we are their loyal servants, you are guests.’ She cleared her throat. ‘Now, yes. To tell the truth, we all desire to hear their words, but only Speakers have that honour. The rest of us can often feel our lord’s will, we cannot hear their words.’

Now finished patching up her sister, Nati had joined them again on the bench, she was clearly trying to avoid looking at the God in front of her. ‘So you’re telling me just one impossibly old man can hear your God talk? Couldn’t he just make shit up?’

The cultists sat back, conveying surprise. ‘Oh. He’s not the only speaker. You didn’t think our church was the only one did you?’ The expression on their faces clearly stated the fact that all three of them most definitely thought that. ‘This, I suppose, is the central church you could say. Our Speaker is often called the Grand Speaker to other churches. That alone is proof enough that he is not lying. If he were, would our lord still bless him so?’

Anyone could see the logic in that, but logic flew out the window when a God was involved. There wasn’t any point pursuing a potential truth, not like any of them could hear Puinsee and Gunnar wasn’t sure he wanted to. He was satisfied living in a world filled with mortal arseholes.

‘Was there anything else you are curious about? I am not the Speaker, but I can answer the best I can.’ She tilted her head, an oddly cute motion for someone dressed like an evil bird.

There were telltale tappings on the stone below their feet as a clearly still grumpy Aethel made his way back in. Though at least he wasn’t trying to kill everyone this time. ‘If there are questions to be answered, I’ve got a few.’

‘Aethelstan Grant. You heard that Speaker fella, he was gonna tell you what you wanted to know,’ Nati sighed, lounging on the bench with her arms resting over the back.

He kicked Gunnar’s leg to make him move over then sat down himself. ‘I’m not exactly feeling patient.’ He crossed his arms.

Another follower of Puinsee walked over and tapped the woman’s arm, talking in almost a whisper. Gunnar heard something about needing her skills. Perhaps she was someone of decent rank in this place, if they had ranks. ‘I apologise, it would seem that the beast’s blade did more damage than expected, my skills are needed.’

Aethel sat forward. ‘Shit. Didn’t he say he’ll be fine? He’s not about to die is he?’

She hurriedly stood up and shook her hands. ‘Oh no, please do not misunderstand. The Speaker will live either way, but I was a doctor before I came here. I can help with the pain, make his recovery smoother, less grating.’ She bowed lightly. ‘Please rest well, you may help yourself to our food and find anywhere to nap, just I implore you to wait until we’re finished before coming down, the Speaker’s rest is also needed.’

She shuffled off in quite a hurry, almost comically, Aethel slumped back into his chair. ‘Anyone else find this all a little suspicious? Or at least a little weird.’

Gunnar turned to stare at him, dumbfounded and a little pissed off. ‘Yeah Aethel. Yeah its a little fucking weird.’

He returned the look, even more pissed off. The two just stared at each other as Kat audibly shuffled in her seat. ‘Well, you guys can have domestics, but don’t do it too loud, I need a nap. Still got slapped around by a killer robot man, remember?’

‘You’re having a nap? Now? In enemy territory?’ The militia officer protested.

She lay down on the bench resting her legs on her sister’s lap and her head on her hand. ‘Nah. I’m taking a nap in a warm church full of very creepy yet very lovely people because I’m fucking exhausted from fighting a monster and finding out a God is real.’

Nati grumbled but lay back herself, rubbing her shoulder. Her new rifle seemed powerful so it must have had quite the kick to it. Gunnar looked at his emotional friend. ‘You haven’t been sleeping much right? Get some rest, I’ll keep watch.’

Aethel pouted, but didn’t protest as he lay on his side, trying to wriggle into a position that was at least somewhat comfortable. A busybody cultist walked over with some bedsheets, but Gunnar waved him away, they weren’t cold and two of them were already falling asleep.

Truth be told, he had no idea if he had been sleeping better than his friend, but he also didn’t need to sleep off a whole heap of rage. He did want to sleep off his mental exhaustion though. He did promise Aethel unfortunately, so to stave off the sleep Gunnar slouched in his chair, using some debris as a footrest and pulled out his pad, going over the various amounts of data he had on Puppet. He had trouble relaxing anywhere but home, so he might as well get on with some work.