I Became The Pope, Now What?

755 754. Home

"...You are a piece that does not belong here—you never will."

It felt as if one lived their entire life, and in the end, they were told it was all a lie, and they were dreaming all the while. What did it mean that he didn't belong there? He had lived, fought, struggled, and lost so much in pursuit of a goal he never asked for.

Sylvester looked up at the gigantic form of Solis. How powerful was this creature, he wondered. "If you know that, you must also know who brought me here. It has to be someone powerful enough to ignore the boundaries of fate, reality, life, death, destiny, and the senses of those Primordial Gods—for even they sit in confusion and fright."

Solis didn't move an inch and replied as if his words were absolute. "I am yet to realize the answer to that. But it is true that you are an anomaly that isn't supposed to exist—your life outshines those destined to be the face of change."

"Be more clear!" Sylvester barked, faintly annoyed by the riddles.

"You are a means to an end."

"Everyone is," Sylvester argued back.

Solis continued, "You exist here, not because you were meant to. But because only you were the right choice for this."

Right then, Sylvester remembered the words from Prometheus. "He talked about 'why Johnathan Colt Westerling became Sylvester Maximilian.' Do you know the answer?"

"The answer awaits you back home. An answer you will realize, courtesy of the pride that oozes those above us. Their arrogance shall be your guide," Solis responded, and the halo behind his head started to shine brighter, engulfing him from all sides. "Go home, Sylvester Maximilian."

For a long time, Sylvester silently pondered on everything Solis had said. Ignoring the frustrating secrets, he tried to make sense of the 'Your life outshines those destined to be the face of change' statement.

He tried to think deeper about every person he had met in his life as Sylvester. Whose destiny had he outshined?

However, somewhere in the middle, the face of a little, sad, malnourished, and yet firm-willed girl flashed before his eyes. Like a light bulb lit up, he felt it all made sense. A girl whose talents went beyond just being born with a higher IQ. A girl whose life story was no less than an inspiration.

"So I'm living in Xylena's story?" He asked Solis, not hoping for any answers. "But she's merely a girl, a queen with no power."

"Once, you were a baby who couldn't walk,"

That more or less confirmed Sylvester's guess. And when he pondered over it, it started to make sense. There had to be a reason why she was able to learn Elder Magic alongside him with such ease. Why was she able to appear in his visions and reach out to him beyond the realm of reality in the void of nothingness?

An unparalleled talent in space magic. An innate talent for learning Elder Magic. A life full of struggles, an attitude that was humble. And above all, a heart that was pure.

"I outshined her destiny? But she was on the verge of dying. I saved her."

"What has happened no longer matters, for 'they' ruled from the shadows of your world." Solis's halo surrounded his entire form in light, reducing his shape to a mere shadow. "You are here to fulfill a task. Much is still left for you to unmask."

'Aren't the Primordial Gods absolute beings? The fate of Sol was doomed no matter what, same for Xye.' Sylvester had so many questions that it was impossible to ponder over them all. 'If not for me, the war between the Demon and the human world was inevitable.'

"We shall meet again very soon—for the last time."

"What?!" Sylvester looked up. The light was fading. "Are you dying?"

"The answer, you shall be made aware."

He felt like clawing his hair out in frustration. For every single question, the answer was the same. He had heard it so many times by now that it sounded like an excuse.

"The end is near," Solis added right before the last speck of his spark vanished. "Trust yourself, Sylvester Maximilian. Your path now lies clear. Do not waver, do not fear—Or the price shall be very dear."

Solis vanished with that.

"It has always been dear, Solis," Sylvester mumbled, wondering if he was the cause of many deaths since he wasn't supposed to be in that world.

Despite having become stronger than any human being in history, or perhaps any mortal in history, Sylvester felt shackles around him—chains holding him from all sides. It was suffocating, being told you're a puppet.

You're a tool.

You don't matter beyond your use.

At last, he understood what Diana meant when she said, 'You don't live for yourself.'

"When will this end?"

He had lost count of how many times he had asked that question to himself.

"Home?" He sighed out of habit and chose to make a small crack in space, leading to the spatial coordinates he couldn't afford to forget. "To hell with Solis and destiny. It's still my home… wherever Mum, Chonky, and Ella are… is my home."

Finding a little solace in his own words, he made the jump.

…

"I'm telling you he's alright, Mother Xavia. He'll be with us very soon."

"You've been saying that for days now, Xylena. There has been no sign of Sylvester, nothing to give me hope." Xavia had no tears in her eyes anymore, but her eyes still appeared red and sore. "The demons don't know anything either. Their account… it tells the worst of possi—even Chonky has disappeared."

"There are things that are beyond our control, Mother Xavia. Things that we can't fathom, beings that we can't imagine. Sylvester is… he has become something more now." Even Xylena found trouble explaining what she had seen. How could she explain that Sylvester lived on as a pebble-sized orb of mist? It made no sense.

Knock! Knock!

"Come in," Xylena responded, it being her hospital room.

Gabriel entered with a face as devoid of expression and vitality as Xavia. "Felix is still missing."

"I was informed, Your Holiness."

"Any word of Sylvester?" Xavia asked again.

Gabriel simply looked down in shame, anger, and sadness. "The Sanctum Council is losing hope. They're suggesting that we hold a funeral."

"No!" Xylena barked like someone had stepped on her reverse scale. "How dumb are you all? I have been saying it again and again—he's bloody alive! Sylvester will be back!"

Yet, her words fell on deaf ears. Dismissed as the rambling of a traumatized girl unable to cope with the loss.

"Your Majesty, the two demons have given their statements. The female is the ruler of the Demon World. She alone can destroy the Holy Land and Sol, yet she weeps for the loss of Pope Sylveste—"

"She's dumb too!" Xylena barked and got off her bed. "You're all annoying me now. How could you ever lose faith in Father? Did he not survive Sandwall? The Divine Desert? The Masan Empire? He is destined for something greater. He won't die so easily."

"I believe you." Xavia patted her shoulder to calm her down before looking back at Gabriel. "Any word about Chonky? Where is he?"

"It's impossible to find him unless he wants to be found out." Gabriel, yet again, held his head low in shame. Feeling like an utter failure as the Pope, he even hated holding that position now. "I shall resign from my position tomorrow morning. Someone from the Sanctum Council will replace me as the next Pope."

Xylena wanted to scold him, but she didn't. Xylena neither, as she too felt helpless and almost hopeless.

'Please come back, Max. Give us a sign that you're alive.'

…

Deep underground in the Pope's Palace, before the closed door that still gave off a very depressing, dark, and deadly air, sat a lone white-furred beast that one might mistake for a mythical griffin—if anyone could see him.

'Maxy, I'll always be with you.'

He felt heartbroken, for he realized he had failed his promise. Sylvester vanished right before his eyes, and he couldn't do anything. Yet he held onto a faint glimmer of hope that Sylvester was impossible to kill so easily.

"Maxy can't die like that." His voice echoed there. "He might come out any moment."

In truth, he didn't want to go home as seeing Xavia's sad and crying face reminded him of his own failure. Having proudly proclaimed himself as Sylvester's protector, his guardian, he felt ashamed.

Seeing Ella similarly sad but never shedding a tear broke his innocent heart.

"I'll take Maxy home and roar again."

Clak!

"Yes, just like that, the door will open, and Maxy wi—" Miraj opened his eyes and stood up, raising his head towards the door. "T-The door opened?!"

"Maxy~" Miraj howled like no tomorrow.

"Chonky?"

Thud!

That voice, that smell, that face—the poor giant ball of fur couldn't take it and knocked himself out.

No, he was snoring.

At least he had peace.

Finally, he could rest with a relaxed heart and mind after days of being awake. His Maxy was home.

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