Meanwhile, back in the Holy Church, their Headquarters, The Cathedral of Radiant Ascension, had never felt so cold and unnerving.
Sunlight still poured through the towering stained-glass windows depicting the Goddess of Light's victories across the ages, demons impaled upon spears of gold, heretics burning beneath holy judgment, kings kneeling in reverence, but none of it brought warmth to the chamber now that it did in the past.
The Holy Church's Pope sat motionless upon the Ivory Throne.
His fingers were steepled beneath his chin, knuckles pale, rings of sanctified relic-gold catching the light as faint tremors ran through his hands.
Beneath his ceremonial vestments, layers of warded cloth and divine seals hummed quietly, reacting to the residual backlash still rippling through the Church's sanctums.
The Divine Aspect they had prepared to take down the Demon King had unfortunately failed, and was now destroyed.
