Deity Tower, Bastion City.

Archbishop Wulfric was sitting on a short, wide staircase that led up to the altar of worship. Both of his hands were encircled by long, green threads of light. Inches above the palm of each hand, a flat, circular seal made of green light spun around a vertical axis. 

These phenomena would normally attract anyone's attention. But every person present inside the hall had their focus stolen by the two-dimensional, dozen-foot-wide panel that was emitting lights and sounds like an active data terminal. This panel was afloat right above the Archbishop's outstretched arms.

The panel showed a serene scene. A boy, not older than eighteen, was the focus. He sat on a metal chair, waving a bleeding, mangled arm at a crowd of unfriendly-looking men gathered around a gateway. The leader of these men, a tall, skinny fellow with a face contorted in frustration, made a vulgar gesture at the boy before slipping inside a two-seater car parked behind the crowd.

"Sorry, I'm not proficient in sign language!" The boy shouted back, to which no reply came. The armed men followed the vehicle, leaving the busy street in a hurry.

The show ended there, as the panel conjured by the Archbishop's spells disappeared. The magic circles in his palm fizzled out, leaving behind tiny, dim sparks. Archbishop Wulfric gazed back at his clergymen, his eyes inviting questions.

"That is probably not the most accurate representation of a young, inexperienced teenager's character. Whatever may have happened when that boy was inside the morgue, we can assume that his personality has undergone a huge change by it," said one of the Bishops sitting in the front row of the pews. 

"What you feel too hesitant to say is that the boy has been possessed, Bishop Jansen," Archbishop Wulfric said. His remark sent a wave of discomfort through the clergymen. Dozens of conversations took birth in the form of whispers and gestures. Not a single one escaped Wulfric's steady gaze. 

"I would like to object to this proposition," said another Bishop. "This young man is a child specially blessed by Lord Sunbreaker. Not only did his affinity with magic grant him a Silver-grade Progression System, but the Lord also showed him unusual favor by sending a soul from his domain to assist his growth. In the hundred-year history of our district, how many mages have we come across with such potential? Even with the unforeseen circumstances that led to the death of the soul guide-"

"Do you still believe in that excuse, Bishop Hobart?"

This interrupting question came from the only Bishop who had maintained his silence until now. Seeing every pair of eyes in the hall turn towards him, waiting for an explanation, he spoke again. 

"On one hand, we have the claim that the boy's guide soul sacrificed itself. On the other hand, we have clear proof of changes in his personality. Do these two facts contradict each other? Not at all. The soul signature test has proven that there is only one spiritual being inside the boy's body. I'm almost certain that the body has been possessed by none other than his soul guide. The real Merrywick died in the accident. But for reasons unknown to us, the guide soul has been maintaining a cover of denial. In this situation, there can be two conclusions. The first is that the soul guide has received certain instructions from Lord Sunbreaker which cannot be revealed in any manner here, lest the other deities should get wind of it. The second possibility is...well, it may be a bit too far-fetched. But I feel compelled to say it. Have you considered the possibility that the guide soul has gone rogue?"

"Preposterous! Even conceiving that idea doesn't befit your position, Bishop Alcius! How can you doubt the perfection of Lord Sunbreaker's work?! Till this day, when has a single Guide Soul sent from the lord's domain acted against the interest of the lord?" 

Bishop Hobart's rage and indignation was palpable. His devotion to Lord Sunbreaker went far beyond his colleagues. 

"I don't doubt the Lord's handiwork. But his hand is hardly the only one pulling the strings. Eleven other deities are ceaselessly scheming against him. Twelve now, if we were to take the claim of the existence of the 13th deity as true. The boy openly admits to being influenced by this new entity. Why should we let go of a possibility that will ultimately harm Lord Sunbreaker's interests?" Bishop Alcius snapped back.

"If we were to believe that the 13th deity exists, and that he has made the boy his first follower, it would actually overturn your own judgment, Alcius," Bishop Hobart said, disdain seeping into his tone. 

"Your conclusions are both in favor of treating the original Merrywick as non-existent as of now. You think the guide soul has betrayed the lord. But would a different deity even dare to treat a purified spiritual existence belonging to another deity's domain as his first follower? Ridiculous!"

"We must not make light of the 13th deity's existence. So far, none of our tests has been able to crack that wall. If he exists, we must ask why lord Sunbreaker allowed him to interfere in his plans," Bishop Jansen said, interrupting the flow of the argument with an angle that wasn't being considered.

"If the 13th deity exists, then the boy is no longer under the control of the Church of Sunbreaker, regardless of whether he is the original Merrywick, or the guide soul...or someone else. So Bishop Hobart's intention to use him, to rely on him, and to let him grow due to his potential as a mage will definitely backfire," Bishop Alcius said, insistent in his skeptical stance.

"My dear Bishops," Wulfric's loud voice cut through the debate, silencing the gathering. "It seems your personal shortcomings are affecting your judgments."

"Then what judgment have you reached, your grace?" Bishop Alcius asked in a frigid tone. 

"I'll not elaborate what my thoughts are, for it is bound to be biased. But I would like to point out one detail none of you seemed to have noticed. When the boy threatened the thugs with the revolver, he said it was the first time he had ever held a gun. Tell me, Bishops, which graduate of the secondary education academy hasn't held a gun?"

A silence spread with his words, pressing heavily on the vigorous voices in the hall. Gears turned in every head, their thoughts running into an impenetrable wall.

"This summon ends here. I have reached my decision."  Archbishop Wulfric stood up from the staircase, dusting off his long robe.

"And that is, your grace?" Bishop Jansen asked doubtfully.

"To let the lord himself make his intention known. No further input is needed from any party who cannot shoulder the blame if proven erroneous. Whether the thirteenth deity exists or not, whether the Soul guide is alive or not, whether Merrywick is dead or suppressed within his own body, and whether we can use him....Only the lord can provide the answers, the only answers that would be accepted without doubts."

The Archbishop waved his hand, leaving behind trails of green mist in the air. Seconds later, his body disappeared from the Cathedral.