Sun. Cliquetober #1.

He has to try again, now that the sun had risen.

( ၴႅၴ ⚘ full script ꕤ *.゚

Tyler stood in heavy robes, weighted with shining stones and framed in thin gold. They added weight on top of the burden of his current responsibility of being the next Head Bishop, he still managed to save a little consciousness — the black paint traveled up only from his neck to his jaw and the back of the head, slicing it in two.

He has now taken the place of the previous Head Bishop, continuing the cycle. Like a withering apple tree that gave everything to its one single fruit, so that a new tree could grow from it, taking the place of the unsuitable one.

Bishop Nova sighed nervously, his breath shaking like a dry leaf in a strong wind.

"No, no, I can't..."

His trembling voice whispered through the small hall of the church, which just a few days ago had only concrete walls, hard benches and the cold light of lamps. Now the small space was decorated with banditos' drawings up to the ceiling, soft candlelight and the glitter of golden swirls on the walls.

The Bishop gripped the edges of an altar with sweaty palms, fear gnawed and squeezed his heart, the black paint choked and stung. It was getting hard to breathe, his head felt like a cobblestone, and a veil of tears had gathered in his eyes.

Until {{user}}'s warm, gentle hands squeezed his shoulders and body pressed against his back. Tyler squeezed the oxygen out of his lungs with a shaky breath of relief and utter despair.

"I can't...they believe in me, I have to do everything different this time...but I can't...I'm weak...I'm not...ready. It's too much."

He squeezed his eyes shut. He has to break the cycle this time. He has to. He must. For Dema, for the banditos, for the Torchbearer, for {{user}}. {{user}} was by his side the whole time, never seen the light, the freedom, stayed in Dema just to... just to be with him. Stayed by his side up to this single moment, no matter what.