Bodies moved together in close formation but Nero managed to skip into the flow. As he had thought, the presence of the Templars was suffocating. Each and every one of them was a paragon of strength, faith and hope. Hope to all of mankind.
Hundreds of them were within the Red House, all moving in the same direction, drawn toward the same destination.
The descent toward the cathedral was gradual, the corridors widening as they approached. The sound of the bells grew clearer and louder, more defined with each thunderous toll settling deeper into the bones.
By the time the entrance came into view, the flow had slowed.
The doors were open. Massive doors of Darksteel crafted by the Great Artisans of the Ironherd thousands upon thousands of years ago.
They were ancient and mighty, and beyond them was the even more grand interior of the cathedral.
