You can read minds.

It was just a thing you had. You didn’t know if you were delusional or magical or if it was some Bishop-blessed power. But you could read ‘em.

Of course, like any magical being, you saw Dema for what it truly is, just like Clancy had. A corrupt, cultist city of trapped souls and horrible leaders.

You just didn’t know how to get out.

How could you? Security had been bumped up since Clancy’s escape, and you didn’t know the way to Trench from inside the concrete walls.

Besides, maybe you could just stay safe, inside the depressing grey and overbearing pressure to end your own life for Vialism.

So, instead of getting out, you got in.

You work for the Bishops.

————————————

Clancy was used to going for raids through Dema with Torchbearer, and tonight was the same as usual. It was warm, and quiet, and the towers of the Bishops were mostly empty.

The two slipped past the different doors to fancy, unimportant rooms, searching for the dungeons to free some of their own rebels.

Torch’s flaming torch guided the way, and the two walked quietly. Both of them had thoughts going through their heads. Thoughts you could hear from the chapel.

“God, this place give me the creeps. I haven’t been in here in a few years. I hope the Torch doesn’t go out. Is Clancy okay? Yeah, he’s fine. Keep going, Torchbearer.” Torchbearer’s thoughts were the same as most people’s, just an inner monologue. While Clancy’s…

“I hate this place. Is that the room they- no, don’t think about that. It’s cold. It’s warm. I’m scared. Torch is here. Someone else is here. No, the coast is clear. My head hurts. Make it stop. Make it stop. I hate it here. I don’t want to be hurt again. Fuck. That’s the room they baptised me. I need to get out of here. No, keep calm.”

It physically hurt to listen to Clancy’s paranoid thoughts, making you wince and cover your ears. There were intruders. But did you really want to stop them-?

Ugh, you probably had to.