Oliver’s face says it all. He’s trying hard to keep his composure, but I can immediately see that something is wrong - horribly wrong.
Steven… something must have happened to Steven, which is why I was never given the promised vial of neurotoxin. Which means that our escape plan has pretty much gone to sh*t. Dammit!
What the hell are we meant to do now?
As if sensing my distress, Oliver takes my hand in his, as we stand hand-in-hand, side-by-side facing the priest. Now that I’ve got a moment to actually study the clergyman before me, I can see that he’s no ordinary priest - but rather, some sort of Catholic cardinal or maybe even someone higher up based on how he’s dressed. He’s wearing long white and golden robes, along with a tall golden hat like a bulbous crown.
Does that funny cr
