Allen smiled as he parachuted over the Vatican. "I think we should just go straight in..."
Karras turned pale hearing Allen's words, but unexpectedly, a mysterious wind took them in a specific direction.
[Allen…]
'Let it be, maybe it's the will of the world.'
...
The sky above Rome split into a thousand shades of fire and wind. Allen descended like a white comet, his parachute waving triumphantly behind him.
The Vatican stretched below, solemn and ancient. More precisely, the epicenter of all spiritual authority: the hall where cardinals and archbishops gravely discussed the fates of the faith.
A crack, a whistle... and then—BOOM! The sacred ceiling couldn't withstand it. Colored glass and broken marble rained down upon the Church leaders, who barely had time to look up before chaos struck.
Amid the dust and light, a figure descended like a vision.
Allen landed directly on the Papal Throne.
There was a dull thud when his boots hit the ground, followed by absolute silence. The parachute slipped off his back like a royal cloak. A burst of energy, vibrant and pure, coursed through the room, bathing him in an almost divine glow. His hair, once black and tousled by the journey, turned a snowy white, shining like snow beneath an eternal sun.
A trembling murmur spread among the attendees. Some cardinals quickly crossed themselves. An archbishop dropped his papers to the floor, unable to tear his gaze away.
Others simply stared, dumbfounded, caught between disbelief and awe.
Allen, unfazed, elegantly shook the dust off his shoulders. He took a step forward, his movements purposefully theatrical. His coat billowed around him like a war banner, his smile as arrogant as it was charming.
With a firm, clear voice full of charisma, he spoke.
"I come in peace, children of God... and in search of something worthy of this magnificent entrance..." Allen smiled mischievously, not realizing his eyes had returned to being gray, "I carry the gates of Hell on my back, so who among you wants to save the world?"
The echo of his words bounced off the marble domes.
For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath.
Then, discreetly, one of the archbishops fainted, collapsing like a sack of potatoes onto the polished marble.
Allen, satisfied, smiled even more.
"What's going on? Is this how you greet your guests?" Allen unknowingly sat on the Pope's throne, his smile widening, "Just so you know, I'm one of the good guys. In fact, I'm the father of Exorcists... Allen Walker, it's a pleasure~"