"Sancta Sedes?" The misty, spirit-like old man sat by the broken flower bed, looking at her with a self-deprecating smile on his blurry face. "I'm not meeting you in my capacity as pope. I saw you when you came to the Sacred City sixteen years ago. I never thought I'd have the chance to see you again."
"This is God's gift to me," the old nun whispered.
The illusion of the King of Red shook his head, "God never cared about you, and He would never claim credit for this. This is a gift from the Grand Inquisitor, sister."
"Ah." The old nun looked up at the distant fire. She slowly nodded and looked back at the old man beside her, her eyes lingering on his face. "How are the children you've been looking after?"