"Change is a thing we all fear. The uncertainty it brings about makes us think the worst. But you must all understand that we must not fear change but embrace it so we do not get left behind." Sister Alice cried out to the crowd within the cathedral. She was spouting the same words being said across the entire empire. While the first stage was done, they had to solidify the new doctrine.

"The world has been divided for too long. War, destruction, hate. All things are caused by this world not understanding the truth. The Gods are our protectors, our guides, all deserving of our worship. To separate them is to justify the atrocities of man. And I, no, we are lucky. We have the Blessed One to lead us. To ensure we succeed."

Sister Alice clasped her hands together and looked at the ceiling. Her appearance felt holy to all, and they couldn’t help but follow in her footsteps. "Praise the Gods, and praise their Champion. Let him guide us in this uncertain future, for he alone has the strength to do this for us."

The audience’s cries flew back at her, and Alice deeply smiled, basking in the prayers for the Gods. It was amazing; it was a moment she had prayed for all her life. If she died now, she would die happy, finally seeing the people worshipping the Gods as she felt they should be.

Walking into the backroom behind the platform, Alice saw some of the new clergy. Some had mixed opinions about what they wore on their faces, especially the clergy who converted from the church. Walking over to them, she smiled sweetly. "The new holy text will be sent to you within the week. Prepare for your deliveries."

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Issac threw open the door into the dining room. William and his wife, Amelia, sat eating a small meal. Issac’s entrance surprised the two and William quickly stood up to reprimand his son, but seeing the happy glow on his face he paused.

"You two will be grandparents." Issac blurted the word out, running over to a cabinet. Taking three glasses out, he grabbed a nice bottle of wine and poured it on them. "Let’s celebrate."

The two still hadn’t processed the announcement until Issac forced the glasses into their hands. "Johanna’s pregnant?" Amelia asked her mouth still open and shaking. Issac smugly nodded and raised his glass.

William looked at him before breaking into a wide smile himself. Slapping his son’s back, he raised his galls aswell. Amelia sighed and stood up, following the two. "To my future child." Issac didn’t know what to say, blurting the first thing that came to mind. The two repeated, and all of them happily downed their drinks.

"I’m too young to be a grandfather, you brat." William happily said, causing Amelia to roll her eyes.

"Make sure to send word to your sister. I’m sure she will come rushing back."

"That’s what scares me, mother. I don’t want her to take control of my marriage." Despite what he said, it was obvious to both of them that Issac was looking forward to her arrival.

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It had been over a month, and Horace walked into the large hall of the obsidian castle. All the main operatives under his family stood parallel, creating a path towards Esmond, who sat on a small chair at the end.

Walking through them, he didn’t falter and took his place before his father. Esmond looked at him with cold eyes and glanced at the others. "I have heard some disturbing things, Horace," Esmond spoke sharply. "Care to explain?"

Horace looked at the people he had taken to the Commonwealth and frowned. "There is nothing to explain. I completed my mission."

Esmond deeply exhaled and stood up, walking in front of Horace. "Our family, our role for the Empire, entails us discarding everything. We are the only ones strong enough to do this. I had believed you to be ready, one of the best this family had produced, but if what I have been told is true, then I can’t be sure anymore."

Horace clicked his tongue. ’Another test.’ It was annoying that his father always did them, but he understood. "If you are talking about the hostage we took, there is no need to worry, father." Esmond raised his eyebrow, and Horace smiled in response. Walking past him, he sat on the chair and looked up at him.

"We are not animals, father. Torture is such a disgusting thing, unbefitting of people like us. Whilst it is necessary for certain individuals, it is a tool that I dislike. Besides, the human soul is so fascinating. Why break a person with imaginable pain when you can simply make them yours? Torturing someone will make them fear you and never want to help you again. But treating them with a semblance of dignity when they have nothing will make them latch onto you."

"So this was all to make the woman latch onto you?" Esmond questioned with narrowed eyes. He understood his son. The man was a perfectionist and even more emotionally stunted than him. Whilst he didn’t believe he had gone weak, he couldn’t trust he didn’t.

"Of course, father." Esmond nodded and turned his back.

"There is no need to worry, and I hope this is satisfactory for you all." The operatives just nodded, not wishing to argue with their boss. But Horace wasn’t. Standing up, he walked over to the people he had taken with him, one of them avoiding his eyes.

"You see, father. Whilst I understand our men’s worries, one thing is as important as loyalty. One thing that we cannot look over." Horace reached down and grabbed the man’s knife. Holding it to the roof, he examined it. "The need to trust one another. Without this, how can I send people to do things and know they will not betray me or his fellows."

Horace lowered the knife and plunged it into the man’s stomach. The two next to him froze up but didn’t move. No one dared to say a thing, and Esmond watched with cold eyes. "This is a warning to you all. Your lives are not your own. They are the lives of everyone you work with." Twisting the blade, the man grunted and clutched the wound. "And if you can’t be trusted, you are useless."

Pulling the blade out, Horace kicked the man to the ground. The cries of pain echoed in the background, and Horace dropped the knife going before Esmond once more. "This includes me and your father. So, did I pass?" Horace squinted dangerously, making Esmond smile and scoff.

Tapping his arm, he turned around and left. Horace looked at everyone before following behind. "Clean him up." Giving his order, none moved until the two were out of sight. Only then did they give knowing nods and carry out the order.

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Walking down the Palace halls, Alfred found himself outside the twin’s room once again. It was something that he found himself doing a lot, and stopping, he finally worked up the courage to walk in.

Frida turned in panic but didn’t do anything, letting Alfred walk over. The two looked at him with bright eyes, smiling in his presence, which made him feel strange. On one hand, he hated them. They were the last remaining thing of the past he wished to forget. But on the other hand, some of him wanted to accept them. They were innocent, as much as a victim of everything as he was.

They didn’t ask to be born the way they were. Looking at the two, he reached down hesitantly and carefully stroked his son’s and daughter’s hair. Its softness added to their childish squeals of delight, but it also added to that confusion. Did he love them, or was it a sense of responsibility? He didn’t know. he had already tried to kill one in a moment of weakness, but it was something he knew he could never do.

"What are their names?" Looking at Frida, the woman smiled and walked over to his side.

"Astrid and Balder," Alfred smirked at it and looked down at them. Reaching into the crib, he took one of the toys from them, their small faces telling him he was annoying them. It made him laugh and think of how Edward acted when he did it to him.

The more he toyed with them, the more they reminded him of Edward—the annoyance at having their toys taken, the delight when played with. Everything about them overlapped. "They really are mine?" he muttered quietly, confusing Frida, who couldn’t speak the native language.

"They will grow up strong," Frida said, looking at them. Alfred returned the toy, and the two quickly tried to take it for themselves.

"Maybe." Sighing deeply, he pushed himself away from the crib. "They need to survive first." His words confused Frida, but Alfred didn’t go into it. He knew he had made a lot of enemies, and whilst Edward was the crown Prince, he would forever be seen as weak. The twins would soon become the target of any attacks against him. They didn’t have any of the disabilities Edward had, and anyone who didn’t know would assume they were the product of an affair, never knowing the truth.

But he couldn’t help but worry about the future. If anything happened in the near future, he had the loyalty of enough people to ensure Edward took the throne perfectly fine, but he couldn’t be sure in a decade’s time. It was only a matter of time when his control over the Empire slipped, and factions around his children began to form.

It was just a question of how many would support Edward and who would choose his bastards.