Hearing the surprise in Charles's voice, the man chuckled. "Of course. As the spokesperson for the Light God, our Pope has found a way to communicate with Him. Please, come with me. The altar is this way."
Charles squinted slightly. What on earth is the Pope up to? Does he really believe this thing is the Light God? Recalling the Pope's wise gaze, I'm sure there's something fishy going on.
Charles followed them through the lopsided skyscrapers. He could see that the road beneath his feet was a battered tarmac, now painted with various religious symbols. Walking among the triangular patterns, the path felt desolate and carried an uncanny air.
The journey wasn't long. Soon, a spacious intersection with a painted crosswalk appeared before Charles. On the deserted street, a flat-bottomed pyramid adorned entirely with gold rose from the level ground.
