The quiet town hadn't changed a bit, even after all those decades. Makarov was no longer a scared, forgotten boy, having left to deal with an alcoholic father, at such a young age. No, he was the world's most wanted terrorist, now. And now, everyone bowed before him, ones who had despised or ignored him now admiring him. Of course, his spite still burnt, forever a hateful fire inside of him. Such anger was a sin, one he acknowledged as he entered the small church of his hometown.