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Vicarius Christi, Pope John Gorbachev II.

The lady in front opened the door before we were again in the main area with every eye and camera pinned on us.

"We are leaving, come and pick us up in two minutes," I spoke through the earpiece as our footsteps echoed all around the church.

"Maxwell Butcher... Maxwell Butcher, if you would please enlighten us on your visit here as we are expecting the Pope to arrive at any minute now." One reporter who had a microphone at hand appeared beside me as she asked questions.

The quiet church turned busy by the mention of my name. It seemed that everyone now had a revelation on who I was.

Snap! Snap! Snap!

Snap! Snap! Snap!

The clicking sounds of cameras rang all over as in the next second, there were over thirty microphones pointed at me.

The guards were having a hard time keeping the PRESS at bay as I frowned.