Chapitre 138: Rise, Archbishop John

John heard the words, and though his body felt heavy and worn, the weight of the man's voice seemed to lift something deep within him.

It was as though the promise of change was real, tangible, but as the man's faint smile faded from his vision, so did everything else.

The dream unraveled around him. The misty void, the purple-eyed man, the distant echoes—it all slipped away into nothingness.

John's consciousness began to fade, sinking deeper into a quiet abyss until there was nothing but darkness.

…

Somewhere, in a forgotten alleyway littered with dirt and debris, John's bruised and battered body vanished without a trace.

…

When he opened his eyes again, everything had changed. 

John blinked, trying to adjust to the sudden burst of light that filled his vision.

He lay on the cool stone floor, surrounded by towering walls of white marble.

The air here felt different—clean, almost sacred.