An eerie silence spread across the Holy Seat as its inhabitants felt the urge to hide away. The older folk, however, didn't find anything eerie about the atmosphere; instead, they found a strange nostalgia. Memories of the purge Samuel caused resurfaced, and those who remembered all those years back silently prayed to Sol, not knowing if they would escape the second round.
Michael stood in the armoury with the majority of the inquisition in the Holy Seat. They silently prepared their gear, not uttering a word. They knew what they had to do, what they were ordered to do. It didn't matter how they felt anymore; they took an oath to Sol, to follow the orders of the Pope, unquestioningly, without wavering.
They all knew that something like this was a possibility; the history of the Holy Seat was stained with blood. Michael looked out at the grim faces. He took to the head of the room, flanked by his most trusted Templars.