The Shaulanca Church

[rewritable]

[font=Book Antiqua]
Bryan wipes the sweat from his face. Strangely, he returns to his normal demeanor surprisingly quickly, dreams and realities interchanging have left a mark - Bryan's mind just refuses to keep analyzing the unbelievability of the situation.

Thaler listens to Manuel and watch the video footage. Being Libertonian, he doesn't recognize the make of ships, but yet he knows enough to be impressed. Bryan takes the drink that is kindly offered, takes a sip, looks down in the glass where amber liquid is rippling smoothly and his thoughts start to flow effortlessly again first time in weeks.

His life as he knew it. Days in office, occasional flight duty, patrolling the lanes and border. Being shot at and shooting at others for reasons unknown, just by relayed orders. Weekly salary, enough to make you content but not enough to make you feel live for once. Everyday routine. Manhattan traffic. Manhattan. Bright sunshine by day. Bright traffic lights by night. Light.

That's on the one hand.

On the other...

Something, darker... A feeling of power, of feeling alive not just for once, but for a lifetime. A soothing, yet mighty darkness. Something far greater than the sum total of everything he had seen or heard in his life so far.

Some change in life is always welcome, right?

Bryan slowly takes the gaze away from the glass and looks Manuel in the eyes. A thin, wry smirk is on his face, eyes vivid, yet with a sort of cold gleam. An expression not seen even once by any of Bryan's friends and acquaintances.

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"Being a nice guy only takes you so far. A Faith, you say? Oh, I can believe now, trust me, that I can. I've seen enough."

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