"Humanity was meant to live as a united whole," the Pope began, gesturing to the growing crowd below. Comprised of tourists, pilgrims, protesters, the curious, the confused, and everyone in between, the crowd was silent - partly awed, partly curious, partly waiting to see what happened next.

  Ralfie stood proud, shoulder to shoulder with Mark and Evan as he surveyed the crowd in front of him. People as far as the eye could see. A few of them looked right at him, defiantly, as if to say We both know trouble will be caused here. Who will cause it? You, or me?

  Ralfie stared back. He kept his anger in check, but he knew he made them nervous, because most of them dropped their gaze a few moments later. Most of them. The ones that didn't , Ralfie stared a few moments longer before letting his gaze scan the crowd.

  "Compassion, my friends, is what lies at the heart of humanity. Compassion and empathy. With a world so full of suffering, we must offer our helping hand to the other, to stand together as a unit!"

  Mark nudged his shoulder, and pointed with his eyes. Ralfie followed his gaze, and saw a group of people standing in the distance, hoods pulled up. Black hoodies in the warm sun was the opposite of 'blending in', and they stuck out. Was that the plan? For a few to stick out to divert attention? Attention from what? Ralfie felt his hairs stand on edge, and felt a nervous tension thrum through the air. The Pope's speech - on love, family, and unity - continued unabated. Most people seemed not to notice the tension in the air either, though Mark did notice the sweat on Ralfie's brow.

  One of the hooded figures broke away from their group, and moved deeper into the crowd. They turned, and Ralfie caught a glimpse of Aisha's face. He couldn't help it - he gasped slightly.

  Mark nudged his shoulder, and Ralfie turned slightly to look at him. Mark didn't say anything, but his eyes were full of concern. Ralfie nodded, and smiled slightly. He was okay, and there was no need for Mark to worry himself. Mark nodded, and turned back to the crowd.

  Aisha. What on earth was she doing here? With a random group? He knew she'd be hanging back for this, after their conversation but this? What was she planning?

  Her black hoodie soaked in the sunlight, and she felt her head getting warmer and warmer by the minute.

  Titus scratched his head, again. "It looks like you have lice," Alicia muttered under her breath.

  "It's hot! And itchy", Titus complained, scratching once more.

  "Get it together!" Alicia whisper-shouted, elbowing him hard.

  Aisha shook her head, and moved away from the pair as their bickering grew more fervent. Most others in the crowd around them milled, bored by the Pope's speech. That wasn't what they were here for.

  Aisha stood next to Marcus, who had his face upturned to where the Pope stood.

  She listened, and found that his words sounded empty. His understanding of faith and compassion was hollow, she realised. Hollow and meaningless. Marcus showed her enough of John's history for her to realise that what the man truly cared about was power, and not much more.

  Marcus looked down on her and smiled. "I see you're deep in thought. Lost in his words?"

  Aisha frowned. "Please," she replied. "When will it start?"

  "Soon," Marcus promised. "There are a few pieces that still need to be moved into place," he added.

  Aisha frowned. "Still? Wouldn't it look suspicious for people to be moving around?"

  Marcus shook his head. "Not really. Look, people are shuffling, moving, whispering, fidgeting - people can't stand still, especially for a dry speech on a hot day."

  Aisha looked around, and realised he was right. The crowd ebbed and flowed like a wave, while the edges fragmented constantly - people sitting down, whispering, leaving the crowd, re-entering, stretching, waving slowly to others, all of it - the crowd wasn't a still lake of people, but an ocean of bodies, barely contained in the streets.

  She nodded, slowly. The plan was salvageable. "Alright, I see what you mean. How long?"

  Marcus smiled at her, even wider. "Impatient, are we? Trust me, it will happen soon."

  Aisha nodded, and pulled her hood down low over her forehead. She left his side, and worked her way deeper into the crowd. She crossed past Ralfie's station - Ralfie? With the guards? - and let John's words flow over her head as she weaved her way in.

  Marcus didn't move. That wasn't part of the plan, but he found himself trusting Aisha implicitly. For a newcomer, she understood the mission like few others did, and was fiercely loyal to her principles - which, luckily enough, aligned with the group's.

  Marcus didn't move even when Alicia slapped Titus' hand with a slap loud enough to echo off the cobblestones. He waited.

  The Pope's voice faded into the background, his calm drone drifted over her head. All she could focus on was Aria. Her green eyes caught the sunlight and glimmered, and her auburn hair seemed like it was about to catch on fire. Anna noticed this in a distant manner - that wasn't on the forefront of her mind, either. Aria's words were. "What do you mean, an attack?" Anna's voice was low, but a few people still turned to look at her.

  "Ssh!" Aria looked at her, her eyes saying are you an idiot? "Look, just...trust me, okay?"

  "How do you know that?"

  "It's hard to describe, but I can feel it. The crowd is...tense. it doesn't feel like a usual gathering, or a usual protest. I don't know how else to describe it, except that that things feel like they will go wrong."

  "I believe you, but..."

  "I know. It's hard to believe in something so vague."

  Anna smiled. "No, it isn't. I believe you. What should we do?"

  Aria frowned. "Nothing, yet. We wait and see."

  "How long did you have this feeling?"

  "Since last night."

  "Last night?!" A few people turned to look at Anna, surprised. She had the decency to blush, and look down. "Sorry," she mumbled. She turned back to Aria, still surprised - and a little bit angry.

  "We were together the entire night."

  Aria winked at that, and Anna found herself blushing - and her anger almost evaporating. Almost.

  "Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

  "Because I knew you'd react badly."

  Anna was surprised. "What does that mean?"

  Aria rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean. Look, you're lovely, but you're also new."

  Anna was crestfallen. She knew that - she knew that, but still...it hurt to hear. "What, so I'm not trustworthy?"

  "That's not what I said. I said you'd react badly. Like you are now."

  Anna didn't say anything. She could feel herself begin to slightly spiral and took a deep breath. "I don't think that's fair. I'm reacting 'badly' because you didn't give me a choice in the matter," she said eventually.

  Aria looked away. "Look, I didn't mean to hurt you, but I did it for your own good. Trust me. Please," she added.

  "I don't get much of a choice, do I?" Anna felt her world fall a little askew, and she felt foolish for pinning so much hope on this person, and surprised by the fact that she did pin hope on this person.

  Anna blinked, and looked up at the cloudless sky. She tried not to cry, and hated herself for feeling weak.

  The crowd surged forward.

  She moved with it, and Aria followed, leaving the rest of the group behind.

  Ralfie wanted to follow Aisha - bizarrely, he wanted to speak to her, to confront her. Confront her about what? About her acting suspicious? Was she even acting suspicious, or was she just walking past with her head down? What about her wearing a hoodie? Isn't it too warm for a hoodie? Does that mean everyone in a jumper or a thick shirt is suspicious?

  Ralfie shook his head, trying to clear his mind. Mark nudged him again, his eyes questioning. Ralfie smiled back, to show that everything was okay. Everything was okay. The sense of foreboding was still present, but it would be fine. Ralfie was surrounded by armed guards on every floor, and the guards near him were trained to control crowds. This is literally their job. He knew he'd be okay. He continued to tell himself that, a chant in his mind - loud enough to drown out the Pope's speech - because he didn't believe it. He had to tell it to himself, enough for him to believe it.

  He did register the change in the Pope's tone, and shifted his focus to the crowd. The crowd was more focused, and with good reason - the Pope had begun discussing the protest groups that he knew were a part of the crowd. The speech was still apolitical; he mentioned wanting to provide as much as possible, he understood people's pains and empathized with their suffering, but was unable to do more than he possibly could and begged the crowd for their understanding of what is and isn't possible.

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  It was funny that this part of the speech was marked by gunshots - as though the crowd disagreed, and demanded more. As though terror was an apt response to weak hand-wringing. Mark pulled Ralfie down instinctively - Ralfie's heart soared at this gesture - and the other guards crouched down while the crowds screamed. A few moments later, Mark, Ralfie, and the rest were up and running into the crowd. Mark pulled Ralfie along, and then the world went white.

  Aria's skin glistened in the sunlight, but Anna was too distracted to appreciate that sight for too long. She felt angry at herself for feeling betrayed, and felt hurt by Aria for betraying her. The feedback loop was vicious, and she was trying to hold back her tears. Aria grabbed her hand, and pulled her back. A few people in the crowd shot them annoying glances, with one even saying, "Do you mind?" before turning back to face the Pope and his speech.

  Aria whispered, "look, I'm sorry, okay?"

  Anna shook her head. "Sorry for what?"

  Aria smiled. "I know you're trying to be strong, and I appreciate it, but I should have told you earlier. This is definitely not the best place to do this."

  Anna nodded. "It's not," she whispered back, and smiled. She could feel the tears running down her cheeks, but found that she couldn't hold her emotions back around Aria.

  A sense of invasion, of pure white rage and fury and spark, filled her vision, and she stepped back. Aria dropped her hand as if she was burned, and looked at Anna with concern. "Are you alright? You're hot." Aria didn't mean it in the attractive way, but in a more literal manner.

  Anna's skin was mildly glowing.

  A reckoning was coming. Anna didn't know who, or why, and she wasn't sure if her body could take it. Again, and again, she found herself serving her body and her body managed to stitch itself together but her mind wasn't able to. She felt herself coming apart as waves of white hot fury and rage filled her vision, and knew that she had to warn Aria, at the very least.

  "Aria, run," she whispered, and then gunshots rang out in the air.

  Aisha knelt down, and ruffled in her backpack. The crowd covered her, and most people were looking up at the Pope, or across at each other - not down at her. A few curious glances were thrown her way, but they quickly moved on. She ruffled in her bag for a while, not because she couldn't find what she wanted, but because she was afraid. She found what she wanted the moment she stuck her hand into her bag.

  She knew she was running out of time, and second-guessing was not an option. The goal was to get the crowd to scatter, to cause chaos - enough time for Alicia to slip in and access the administrative offices on the ground floor. The timing wouldn't be better than this, and Marcus insisted that Alicia was quick and quiet enough to get in and out during the commotion.

  Aisha took a deep breath, and steadied her nerves. The gun was big, black and ugly in her hands; she almost dropped it, her palms were sweaty enough for her to lose her grip.

  She gripped the bag in her hands as she stood up, the gun still concealed within. She had made her way to the other end of the crowd, all that was missing was Marcus's signal - BANG. BANG. BANG.

  That was the cue. People screamed, and Aisha saw a line of security guards converge on the Pope immediately, before pulling him inside and slamming the doors shut. She raised her own weapon and fired into the air - three more shots rang out. People around her fled; no one tackled her, no one was brave enough to take down a mad gunwoman, people ran away. She She ran with them - quickly wiping the gun with her sleeve before dropping it back into the bag. She was sandwiched between people trying to get out as crowds forced themselves through, she prayed that Alicia was able to get in. She could hear the guards screaming, could hear Ralfie's voice amidst that scream and then .... an angel descended.

  Anna heard the echoes of gunshots, and saw almost everyone drop down, terrified. She saw the Pope being pulled back into his apartments, the doors slamming shut. She saw the guards moving into the crowds, almost all of them armed. She saw Aria kneeling down, pulling on her shirt, screaming at Anna to kneel down too. She saw Aisha, running with the crowd. Aisha...running away... and then she saw nothing. She remembered nothing, for two days after.

  She had faint glimpses of white smoke, of burning cloth and flesh and stone and sky, of a holy fire raining down, of her floating in the centre.

  Aria's last moments alive were torturous. She could see nothing but white smoke - how was the smoke white? - and smelled nothing but incense. She knew, distantly, that it was flesh that was burning, but she couldn't smell the acrid smell of burning flesh and hair and clothes and plastic, just the sweet smells of incense.

  She could feel it though - she could feel her body burning. The heat roiled off the floor in waves,

  and the cobblestones melted under her feet. She felt every searing inch, and the last moments of her life stretched out in agony.

  Her skin bubbled and her blood boiled as she quickly burned to death. Surprisingly, she burned alive, and died from the pain - not from asphyxiation of the pure white smoke.

  Her last thoughts were of her mother, and her body crumbled to ash.

  Marcus screamed, and Aisha found herself wanting to laugh at how high-pitched his shrieking was. She couldn't - half her face was blown away, and she couldn't move her body. The white fire flickered near the remnants of her face, and she didn't feel any of it. It felt like her brain turned off every nerve ending, every pain receptor, all of it. She stared up at the cloudless blue sky as pure white smoke drifted up in thick, lazy clouds.

  She could hear the screams and hear the heavy thuds of human bodies and feet hitting the ground as people ran and fell and ran again - the ones that could, anyway.

  Titus and Alicia...where were they? She remembered seeing them before - before she moved into the crowd. It wasn't supposed to end this way. No one was supposed to get hurt. No one was supposed to get hurt. Marcus promised her that, even after he handed her a duffel bag with weapons in it. Even then, they were just to scare people. No one was meant to be hurt and now... where was everyone? She couldn't hear any screams anymore. She couldn't see much of the sky, either, just the fluffy white smoke that looked soft enough to sleep on.

  She closed one eye - the other eye had melted, and was dripping down her cheek - and her chest stilled. She felt none of it, none at all.

  Ralfie cradled Mark's cooling hand in his own. The two were blown back by the force of the Arrival, back into the palace, and hit the rock walls hard. They crumpled to the ground, and Mark wasn't moving. Ralfie took the fall well - he knew he would, from the moment the blast hit him, he knew it - but Mark, Mark wasn't moving. Ralfie managed to drag himself to Mark, and he could feel hot tears run down his face. He couldn't feel one of his legs, but that didn't matter.

  Thick white smoke suffused his vision, and he wasn't sure if he was hallucinating or if the smoke was real. He could feel the heat from the fires below - strange fire that spread across the rocky pavement, across the cobblestones, burning things that should not be able to burn.

  He cradled Mark's jaw, and touched foreheads. His tears fell on Mark's face, little puddles that rolled down his cheeks. He wanted to shake his shoulders, scream in his face, beg, anything - anything for Mark to blink, or cough, or shudder. He pressed his forehead to Mark's as if there was a way to will someone back to life.

  He prayed.

  The fire was warmer, and closer. It seemed as though the building would burn.

  The flames licked his foot - he could see it, but he couldn't feel it. That was worrying. It was worrying that he couldn't move. It was more worrying that he didn't want to move.

  He couldn't imagine leaving Mark alone in the flames. He would rather die than let that happen.

  He held Mark's cool hand, and stayed. The last thing he saw was Mark's eyes, open and dead, staring into his own.

  EPILOGUE:

  A news channel covered the afternoon news for what felt like the fiftieth time that week, and George sighed with exasperation, before picking up the remote to turn the channel.

  "Don't!" Martha cried. "I would like to listen to it, please", she added.

  "You know they haven't discovered anything new, right?" George said. "If they did, they would not tell us, and we both know that."

  Martha shook her head. "We don't know that," she added gently.

  "The fires burned on for most of the afternoon, and the blaze was only contained by twilight," the news anchor continued. "Most bodies are unrecognizable, though local forensics teams are working with international agencies to determine identities by dental records, where possible."

  Martha focused on the TV.

  "Has she said anything yet?" George asked. "No, not yet," Martha whispered.

  "The Pope has shared his condolences for the victims, but has added that their souls are with God, as untimely victims of a blessed holy fire that rained down upon His enemies. Questions of loyalty and divinity within the Vatican Palace have been raised, as most of the palace buildings were burned in the aftermath. The Pope has issued a statement, saying that the building will be rebuilt, and that it will be 'business as usual' in smaller papal apartments throughout the city. However, protests have sparked across the country as this, along with cuts in funding to support groups for victims' families, has led to further unrest and doubt within the Vatican."

  "Do you think she'll - "

  "Let's give her some time, George," Martha said.

  She sat down next to him, and the two watched the news report cover the carnage wrought over the past week.

  Anna lie face-up in bed. Her body was burned, and she could no longer feel her toes or fingers.

  She remembered Aria's warm smile, and the sunny days in the Vatican. She remembered the heat, the morning of the protest. She remembered all of it, until she couldn't - and she remembered it all again. As if she could find a way to access her own memories, her own body. She couldn't. She didn't stop.

  Her eyes were vacant, and her skin was angry and sore. She felt it, but pain never washed across her face. She did nothing else, but relive those days over, and over, and over. It was all she could do, to keep Aria's memory alive. That was all that was left.