Severance

Raphael’s footsteps were heavy as he entered into the aging Amarrian cathedral. The place was empty, quiet except for the sounds of his movement. Dust swirled at his feet, glittering when floating through the sunbeams that shone through the high windows. Stopping as he reaches the front row of pews, he takes a step to the left, collapsing backwards and taking a seat.

“I can’t believe it.”

Raphael stares at his feet for a few moments longer before continuing.

“Is this a punishment, God?”

Heaving a heavy sigh, he looks up above the altar.

“Do you no longer wish for my services? Do you no longer wish for my happiness? To take both from me…”

There are a few moments of silence before his voice fills the church once again.

“What have I done? What sin did I commit that you wish to take both my redemption and my happiness from me?”

As no answer comes, Raphael continues.

“Why did she go, Lord? What made her think it was okay? Even if nothing happened….no, I don’t believe anything happened…but still, to go there, not once, but more so….”

He slumps a bit in the seat as he holds his eyes on a point hovering above the altar.

“I return, and she has nothing but bad news for me…”

He closes his eyes slowly, holding them so for a second before opening them again.

“To sleep at the apartment of an old-boyfriend…one who still holds feelings for her…”

His face contorts into a frown.

“She says she did not want to be alone while I was gone. So she goes to the place of her first love. How…how am I to interpret this? What possible conclusion am I supposed to come to? Does she still hold feelings for him? Is he her comfort?”

He glowers at the invisible point.

“It was shortly after her break-up with him that the Commander ordered us to stick together because of some invisible threat. It was a time of great stress for both of us. Is that how it came to happen? Is she with me because I just happened to be there? Am I some sort of consolation prize?”

His voice grows bitter.

“And now, while I was gone, when she has an excuse, she goes back to him? The pirate? Does she no longer need her temporary crutch? Was I just a bandage to cover a wound, a bandage to be discarded after it has healed?”

Venom begins to drip from his every word as he stands, his hands clenched tightly in fists, his breathing growing more rapid.

“Is that it, God? Am I of no use anymore!? No use to her, no use to you!?”

He whirls around, kicking his foot out at his previous seat, the ancient wood splintering.

“Am I not to be redeemed God?! Have you doomed me already!? No more love, no more redemption!?!”

His chest heaving, the anger begins to leave his face, exhaustion from his long trip overtaking him. Sitting himself down, back against the altar, his eyelids begin to droop slightly.

“Stripped of my commission, stripped of my fiancé…what do I have now, God? What have you left me with?”

Again his inquiries are unmet, the only sound answering his cries being the slowing of his breathing.

“What is your plan for me now, God?”

His voice drops to a mere whisper.

“Or have you abandoned me?”

His eyes roam around the church, looking over the old stone walls, the faded stained glass, the rotting floor boards, and the shattered remains of the ancient pew.

“Abandoned…”

Eventually his eyelids grow too heavy, and a troubled, exhausted sleep overtakes him.

Hex

Dressed in a long hooded tan robe, his face obscured, Raphael weaved his way through the crowds. This Cathedral was one of the biggest and busiest in the region. He didn’t really want to be here, but his old hideout was stained with blood. His blood. So he was here, looking for the same comfort the ruins have afforded him. Ducking into a back room, he found a senior acolyte sitting alone.

“Do you hear confessions?” Raphael kept his voice low.

“I’m sorry?” The acolyte asked, closing the small book he had been reading.

“Can we talk?” Raphael stayed by the door.

“Of course. Come, sit, and I shall give you counsel.” He acolyte placed the book upon his lap and motioned to the empty spot on the bench beside him.

Taking a seat, Raphael kept his hood on to keep his face hidden. “I don’t need counsel. I only need you to listen.”

The acolyte looked a bit surprised, but kept quiet, allowing Raphael to continue.

“Forgive me, Father, I fear I may sin.”

The acolyte began to reply, but Raphael held up a hand to stop him.

“The first thing you must know, Father, is that I once owned a space station. It, along with the company and the responsibility for all of its employees, passed to me upon the death of my father. He, and I, were honest businessmen. We made no shady deals, trampled over no one. We did everything right. The only mistake we made was not being part of a noble family.”

The acolyte regarded Raphael with a look, but said nothing.

“Of course, at the peak of our success, we were beset by the greed of a noble. He demanded our property. The station, the equipment, the harvest. When we refused, he destroyed it. What was left, he took, leaving us nothing but ashes. I didn’t only lose the station and almost all of the company’s assets in that attack, but I nearly lost all of my crews, their families, and my life.”

The acolyte sat quiet through Raphael’s tale.

“It was an unforgivable attack. He sought to take what wasn’t his because the only people in charge of the station were commoners. His greed cost me almost everything. And now, now when I’ve gotten everything back up to speed, that I’ve gotten back on my feet, he sends his sister to plague me. His goddamn sister! As if he hasn’t insulted me enough!”

The acolyte jumped at bit as Raphael took God’s name in vain, but the anger present in his voice kept the acolyte from admonishing him.

“When I discovered who she was, I lost it. I confronted her, demanding answers. She gave me none, and before I could extract any, I was interrupted. She got away, and I took my anger out on the lounge.”

The acolyte raises a brow as Raphael lets out a long sigh before continuing.

“I was told by a confidant not to pursue retribution against this girl; that I don’t know that she has anything to do with what her brother did. Someone else told me the same thing, telling me that if I take any serious action against her, that I would be thrown out.”

The acolyte remains quiet as Raphael pauses and collects his thoughts.

“I didn’t join because I wanted to. I never intended to make a career out of it. I joined to erase the sins of my past, to pay off the debts to God I accumulated throughout my life. Vengeance might not redeem me in the eyes of God, but it would certainly do me a world of good. I’ve been holding in my anger over the attack for so long, drowning it in drink, that unleashing it would be nothing but cathartic.”

The acolyte attempted to speak again, but Raphael spoke over him.

“I know two wrongs don’t make a right, and that if she is indeed innocent, I would be nothing more than a monster. But she had some of the stolen gear, and she actively used it to mock me, bringing me a token sample of rock and claiming to know a life of labor because of it. The way she talks to me, refers to me, looks at me, treats me…I know she’s involved somehow.”

“I don’t want to be a monster, Father, but I don’t know what I’ll do when I see her again. Everyone has told me what not to do, but has offered no advice on what to do. I don’t want to lose myself, but the anger I feel is so great. I lost almost everything because I wouldn’t give in to someone who was nothing more than a glorified bully. I won’t just back down and run off. No matter what happens, I will stand proud and face the consequences.”

Sensing a pause in his story, the acolyte ventured a question.

“What is your name, son?”

Raphael turned to look at him, his face staying hidden within the shadow of his cloak.

“Raphael.”

The acolyte smiled, and he began to speak in a soft tone.

“There is the answer you are looking for, right there. Do you know what your name means? It means ‘God’s healing.’ You need to rely on God to show you your path. He will enlighten you to whether the rage you feel in your heart is either unholy vengeance or righteous fury, whether your steadfast determination is a blessing, or in this case a hex. Let God in, and let him heal your wounds.”

Raphael sat quiet for a few moments before standing. He thanked the acolyte for his time, but not for his advice. It sounded too much like inaction. A non-answer. But he hadn’t come here for an answer.

As Raphael reached the main chamber after exiting the back corridors, he looked out upon the throngs of people kneeling before the grand altar, sending their prayers to God. Raphael had always preferred to pray alone, silently praying in solitude. However, he thought again of the acolyte’s suggestion, and moving over to a pew with an opening, kneeled beside another and began to pray.

High Five

Staggering in, clutching his side, Raphael collapses into his usual seat.

“I did it, Father, mission accomplished.”

He sighs contently.

“No forgiveness needed tonight, Father. I did nothing but good.”

He takes his hand away from his side for a second to assess the wound once more. His armor is cracked, a large hole in the side.

“Had an important mission today. It was supposed to be suicide.”

He places his hand back on his side, feeling the warmth through his glove.

“Had a jump clone readied incase I met my end. This assignment was out of pod, but…”

Raphael winces slightly as he applies more pressure.

“…I succeeded. God’s will has been done, and it has been completed by my hand. I’m closer, Father, to finally paying off my debts.”

He smiles, feeling happier than he has in a while as he reminisces about his victory.

“Those foolish Matari believed they could resist God’s light, and hide in the darkness. Even out of pod, I was able to show them their place. I think…I think I have finally become a true crusader.”

He wheezes as he struggles against the pain building in his chest.

“Just over the hill there, Father. It turns out they had been hiding just over the hill. The whole lot of them. I wonder, were they there when I came here before? Were they always so close?”

Saint slips a bit further down in his seat.

“The ship…was destroyed though. Need to…await…pick up.”

His chest heaves as he takes another breath.

“Definitely a cause for celebration. This wasn’t only a victory for God, or the Empire, but a personal victory. God smiled upon my previous endeavors, and blessed me in this one.”

In pain and struggling to breathe, he keeps smiling.

“I have more good news, Father. I found what it was I was looking for, what I told you about before. I found the man who has her, my mother. Somehow, these Matari were involved with him. I’ve found out where he operates, and I plan on paying him a visit as soon as I get out of here….and get this looked at.”

He grunts as a sharp pain ripples up his side.

“Excuse me, Father, but I need to get out in the open, so they can find me easier.”

He struggles to his feet, but slips on the puddle that had formed beneath his seat and collapses back into the chair. He smiles weakly.

“Perhaps…I will stay a bit longer.”

He struggles to sit higher in the chair, but his feet slip along the floor, unable to get a hold.

“A great, victory, Father. I’ve…finally found…her…”

He slowly closes his eyes, his voice fading as he continues to try and speak. As he falls silent, his head rolls to the side to rest on his shoulder, his arm falling limply to his side.

Dismissed Forthwith

“Father…”

Raphael sits in his usual spot, hunched over, staring at the ground.

“I…I don’t know what to do.”

His face is impassive, with a hint of sadness.

“I told her…I told her that it didn’t matter, I told her a couple of times. I think I was trying not only to convince her, but myself. I needed to believe it myself that it was alright, that it didn’t matter. However, once I was left to my own thoughts, I could only think of how it changed everything.”

He shuffles a bit, but keeps his overall posture.

“She was a spy, Father. A spy. One who makes their living on deceit.”

He pulls his flask from his chest pocket.

“I had joked about picking drinking back up. I had stopped a week or so ago. I had thought I was finally ready to face everything. I was wrong.”

He unscrews the cap and takes a long drink, the almost forgotten flavor once again flowing over his tongue.

“I don’t know how to proceed. I don’t know what to believe. A spy? To still be here after her clandestine activities, she has to be good at lying. Well versed in deception. I mean, she could have been anything, Father, anything, and it would have been better than this.”

He takes another sip and closes his eyes as he is reunited with his old friend.

“She could have been a pirate, a noble, a mass murderer….anything other than a deceiver. Anything. Now…now I don’t know what to believe. I don’t know what’s real with her. What’s false.”

He sighs heavily and rests his forehead on his hand as he stares at the ground. He shakes his head, not knowing any other way to put it.

“The whole situation is fucked now.”

He sits back upright and leans against the wall.

“While that is definitely what’s weighing on me most at this moment, I do have other problems. The Commander’s problem, which has become my own most recently, is keeping me from other pursuits I would rather be taking part in. I find myself beginning to hate the Commander now, Father. Hate him for getting me involved. For involving Shalee. For taking my time, my very way of life, from me. How she worries for him when he has destroyed her peace of mind, I have no idea.”

He exhales slowly in a long sigh.

“Sometimes I can’t stand her.”

He takes another sip from his flask as he stares at the ceiling.

“I still need to investigate that message I got so many weeks ago. I need to investigate my mother. But I no longer have the time. I certainly can’t poke around when I need to constantly watch over my shoulder.”

Taking another drink, he continues.

“The Commander isn’t the only higher-up I’m starting to find my faith lacking in. I once held the Captain in high regard. I once had the utmost respect for her. Obviously, the sentiment wasn’t returned.”

His shoulders sag as he heaves his third sigh, and he frowns as frustration creeps in.

“She caught Shalee and I arguing. We eventually had to feed her our charade, that we were a couple now. That we were dating. The Captain came back at us with a threat to tell the Admiralty. I tried to calm her down, ease her frustration. She called me an abuser. She accused me of abusing Shalee. The only thing I had done, anywhere close to that, was grab Shalee’s arm. I didn’t even grip it tight, only firm.”

He takes another sip.

“If the Captain thinks that I am so low as to beat a woman, she must have no respect for me at all. Why should I bother to give her any?”

He scoffs.

“She threatened to tell the Admiralty. To bring the fake relationship under scrutiny, to determine if either Shalee or I were acceptable for the Praetoria. If such an inquiry were to come to light, I would hang the Commander out to dry. Shalee might give up her career in the Praetoria for him, but I will not. My patience with him, and with her, is wearing thin.”

He pauses for a second.

“It seems I can trace all my current problems back to the Commander.”

Raphael stands up, turning his head to speak one last remark.

“I need room. I just need space to sort all this out, and I won’t. I won’t have it until he’s either back…or he’s dead.”

Third Strike

“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.”

Raphael kept his head low, looking at his boots.

“I need your help, Father, I have no idea what I should do. I feel as if I’m making another mistake.”

He sighs, sitting back on the stone chair, his head back looking at the sky.

“Loyalty is very important to me, Father. I pride myself on being there for people through thick and thin. Being someone you can depend on."

He sits upright.

"Take this for example. I went on a reconnaissance mission with another Praetorian into the unknown. Right in the middle of an engagement with the 'sleepers,' some enterprising outlaw finds us a nice target. Disrupting the warp drive of my comrade in an Abaddon, he traps him. My Prophecy-class battlecruiser cannot withstand the withering fire of the sleepers and his heavy interdictor, and I have to warp off."

He says the next part slowly, emphasizing.

"But I don't run away."

"I continue to come back, even as my ship melts and I almost lose it. I was not going to leave that pilot there to die. He was another Praetorian, a wingmate. Our communications were text only, I have no idea who he is, but I'm not going to leave him. Eventually, we are able to scare the interdictor off, and we escape."

His tone changes.

"However, I’ve made my mistakes. Committed my…betrayals.”

He sits in silence for a few minutes, gathering his thoughts.

“The first one, of course, was Gabriel. He still doesn’t know that it was an accident, but that it was me. He’s still one of my greatest friends, and I haven’t told him. I wouldn’t know where to begin telling him. I didn’t tell him before because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. How could I possibly tell him now? I can’t even forgive myself for it, how could I expect him to? I still work with the guilt.”

He shifts uncomfortably on the chair.

“The second was Nephanie. I betrayed her trust in me in a moment of weakness. I betrayed the relationship we had. Now that she’s dead, I have no chance for atonement. She forgave me but like a fool I never forgave myself, keeping me from her, and I feel responsible for her death.”

He puts his hand over his eye and drags it downward, wiping his face.

“I continue to sin against her to this day, betraying her over and over.”

Raphael reaches down and palms his flask through the lining of his pocket, lingering for a second before deciding against it and dropping his hand.

“The third….well I was all wrong about the third.”

He shakes his head.

“I had thought I was going to betray an old friend…but I betrayed a new one. We had just become friends as well, after a long history of animosity, we reached a concord. However…”

He sighs heavily, a frown forming on his face.

“…now I feel as if there is no hope. That there will never be a friendship now.”

He shifts uncomfortably again.

“The accusation I made…it was a serious one. I don’t expect her to forgive me; I don’t think I’ll forgive me.”

Raphael frowns, remembering what happened.

“I mean, it seemed like that was what was going on. Her history of trouble, her strange behavior recently, the friends” he spits this last word out, “she keeps. She keeps plenty of less-than-desirable company.”

He groans, frustrated.

“She dragged me to this godforsaken station on the edge of civilization the other day. To my chagrin, it’s infested with reds. She had a grand time conversing with them, and seeing me absolutely miserable in their presence.”
He bangs his fist on the wall in frustration.

“There was even this damn Matari outlaw who thought he’d play at being a gentleman and telling me to leave, just because I was asking Shalee to leave the place. If I hadn’t had my weapons confiscated and things had gone just a bit more poorly, God knows what would have happened.”

He takes a deep breath, trying to calm down.

“I know what you’re thinking. Why didn’t I just leave Shalee there to rot with her no good friends? Well, I had to stay. I’ve been ordered to keep track of her, to make sure she stays safe. It was that same night that I betrayed her, accused her of being a spy, that I was ordered to stay by her side. This will either give me a chance to atone, or rend us apart forever.”

His face grows sour.

“I find myself beginning to hate the Commander.”

Raphael runs his fingers through his hair. After a few seconds he continues.

“It seems I’m only increasing my debt, instead of working it off as I had hoped. I still believe the Praetoria is my best chance to serve. My best chance at redeeming myself in God’s eyes.”

He sits back in the chair, leaning his head back against the wall.

“Thank God I became a capsuleer before starting to repay my debt. I think if I hadn’t, I would have been delivered into his hands long before I felt worthy.”

He stands up and makes his way over to the door, stopping for a moment before moving on.

“It’s a good thing I have forever now, Father. I think that’s how long it’s going to take.”

Second Chance

Taking his usual seat, Raphael makes a sign of blessing over himself before speaking.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”

He sighs slightly before continuing.

“This can be so hard sometimes. Lying yourself out, letting someone see everything. I guess that’s why I chose you, Father. I know I can speak in complete confidence, and I have a feeling you don’t judge me one bit."

He pauses momentarily before continuing.

“It’s not going as fast as I had hoped. I fear I may be working off my debt for eternity.”

He pauses to reach for his flask, but hesitates, and ultimately leaves it in his pocket.

“Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy it. I don’t enjoy the failure I sometimes see, but that cannot be helped. Only God is perfect, and we just stumble along, hoping to reach as close to perfection as we can, but it will forever be out of our reach.”

He lets out a single laugh.

“Such is the fate of man. Second Best.”

Raphael smiles.

“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t care to be the best. Too much pressure. I just want to serve my time, do my part. I believe myself to be a righteous man. I say my prayers, offer my assets, and now, my life. I hope God finds me a suitable servant.”

He goes silent for a moment, before letting out a small laugh.

“When you saw me walk in here, Father, did you know I was so troubled?”

Raphael sits in silence.

“Your silence says it all. It is true, I carry my burdens, but who has none to bear? Even the nobles see their own share of troubles, I reckon. Perhaps not much, but hopefully enough to keep them occupied. I just don’t let them affect my work.”

He pauses for a second, considering.

“Actually, I guess nothing could be farther from the truth. My burdens are my reasons for joining the Crusade in the first place. They are my reason for continuing, and sadly, picking up more along the way.”

He looks down at the flask that he had subconsciously gotten out, and ponders it for a second, before absently running his hand over the bloodied patch on his arm.

“But it’s the trials you go through that make you who you are, no? I like to think I am a good man. I am sure there are those that disagree; you can’t be liked by everyone.”

Raphael falls silent, speaking only after a few minutes have elapsed.

“Not long ago, I received news from an old friend that my mother had gone missing. He believes she was taken by someone, for what reason he does not know.”

He rolls the flask over and over in his hands.

“I haven’t seen her in a long time. She didn’t live on the station with my father and I. She was always out travelling, making business contacts. I talked to her a couple times over the video comms, but I can’t say we were ever close. However…”

He unscrews the cap of the flask, and shakes it lightly, swirling the contents.

“…she is my mother, and to be taken from her home, it’s definitely not some routine attack by pirates or some such. I wonder if she was taken by someone she ran afoul of…or someone I have.”

He brings the flask to his lips, but hesitates.

“I think I’ve caused enough trouble for my lifetime, and now, it may have endangered my mother.”

He takes a drink, swirling the whiskey in his mouth before swallowing.

“Of course, it could be something completely unrelated. Perhaps her own trouble caught up to her. Nonetheless…I will look into it. I owe my mother a great deal.”

He screws the cap back on, but keeps the flask in his hands.

“I just can’t stand the thought of another one, Father. Nephanie…”

He runs his hand over the patch.

“The Chaplain…”
He looks over the church through the door.

“Ariel…”

He rubs the flask with his thumbs as he cradles it in his hands.

“And now, possibly, my mother. I just hope I’m wrong, Father. I hope my friend is wrong. I hope she’s safe somewhere.”

He falls silent for a minute before standing.

“I know I didn’t really confess too much, Father, but I can’t stay. I need to go and try to find something, anything. Too many times, Father. I don’t know how I’d handle another one.”
Raphael walks out of the church, his steps heavy on the worn stone floor.

First Confession

Raphael Saint walks through the doorway of the church, and after making his way over, takes a seat in one of the booths along the wall. Hastily making a sign on blessing over himself, he sits back in his seat, getting comfortable.

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned."

He pauses for a second, gathering his thoughts, before talking as if to an old friend.

"You don't know how long it took me to find a place like this. I've gone for so long without saying anything, just carrying it with me. I'm glad I found you."

He sits silent for a moment before continuing.

"There...there was a chaplain back on the station my company used to own. He approached me one night when I was drinking alone, sitting down to join me. I guess he had learned of some of my past sins, and was wondering if I wanted to talk about them. He asked me what I thought about what happened, what I felt."

He pauses for a second, remembering.

"I trusted him, and I had known him ever since I was a child, so I opened up. I think the liquor helped. I don't usually open up to people about my past indiscretions, but sometimes I find someone. Of course, this was a while back before I built more of a tolerance for the liquor. Back when it didn't take me long to slip into intoxication."

He sighs, slightly shaking his head as he ponders his situation.

"I felt that talking to him helped me, helped me sort things out, and of course his words were encouraging, and I could tell he cared. That's always a plus when talking to someone about personal matters, as I'm sure you can understand. I would end up seeking him out whenever I felt I needed to talk something over, whenever I felt it was too heavy to carry concealed. He was a great help, and became a good friend."

Raphael pauses again, this time for much longer, before he finally continues.

"Up...up until I killed him, that is. That's my reason for coming here, Father. His death has weighed heavily on me ever since the day he passed."

Wiping his face with his hand, Raphael pauses to take out a small flask from his pocket and takes a small sip.

"You'll have to excuse me, Father. Look at me, drinking in a church of all places. But I fear I need it, Father. It helps calm my nerves, and with what I'm about to recount, I'll need that."

Putting the flask back into his pocket, he continues.

"Now don't get me wrong. I'm not a monster."

He pauses, tilting his head to the side slightly.

"Well, not on this account, anyhow. His death was an accident, a mistake. But there are some mistakes that are unforgiveable. The night I learned his death, I drank a lot. But that time...alone."

Raphael looks at the floor for a quick second.

"The day started innocently enough. Just another mining op. I was a miner, you see, before I joined the Praetoria. The Chaplain didn't participate in the operations; he merely conducted occasional services and blessed the crews before they went out. However, after much urging from me, he joined us on this particular operation. I don't know why I wanted him to come. I can't remember anymore. I think I wanted him to bless some new piece of equipment or something, something valuable yet untested."

Shifting in his seat, Raphael tries to get comfortable, but cannot, his memories preventing such.

"When it came time to conduct operations, I had lost track of him in the flurry of activity that is readying all the equipment. I kept crew size down to save money and put less at risk, so everyone, including me, did around twice the work, keeping us busy at almost all times. I guess he somehow found his way into the cargo bay as he was exploring the ship. I think he told me it was his first time on a ship where he wasn't confined to a passenger cabin."

Pausing to reflect, he looks at his hands.

"I did everything wrong that day, Father. I pressured the Chaplain into attending the operation, despite my usual practices of having a few crew as needed. I left him unattended once the operation truly started, and, worst of all, I didn't check to see if the hold was occupied before I opened it to the vacuum of space."

Sighing heavily, Raphael again gets out his flask and takes another drink.

"I can't imagine what ran though his mind as the lights flashed in the hold. He had 30 full seconds to contemplate his situation as the air was removed from the hold before the doors would open. Sometimes my mind wanders to what his last moments might have been like. The fear I'm sure he felt as the lights flashed, the air got thinner, and when the doors finally opened.

We found him later, once we had returned back to the station. It seems in last moments he crawled into the can that was being loaded with the ore. Unfortunately, the seal on it had failed, making him no better off in there than he would have been in the open void."

Raphael stopped talking, and sat in silence, listening to stillness of the church.

"I guess I feel as if it was all my fault. Everyone told me it wasn't, that it was a freak accident beyond my control. But it was my mistakes that doomed him. His death was just another reason to drink. Another notch on my rather long belt of regrets."

Raphael laughs slightly.

"Listen to me, complaining. It's not like me. But...it feels good to finally have someone to talk to again, about these things. I usually just drink to suppress these memories. Pitiful behavior, I know, but it’s become a habit, years of practice have ingrained the ritual into me. However, I am trying to better myself.

I joined the Praetoria to seek God's forgiveness for my sizeable collection of sins. Some people believe that if I ask for it and am truly sorry, that I'll receive it. However, I've never gotten anything for free, Father. I was raised to work for everything, and I'll work for God's forgiveness as well."

Standing, Raphael walks to the door of the booth and pushes softly, the creaking of the heavy metal door filling the entire church.

"Thanks, Father, for listening. I'll be back again. More friends felled by these hands, more transgressions, and I feel I'm not done making mistakes. Take care."

Walking through the church Raphael carefully steps over some piles of rubble in the main aisle. Taking his flask out as he passes through the door way, he takes a drink as he silently walks away from the ancient ruins of the long-abandoned, and empty, church.