This chapter takes place after Chapter 3 in SFTD.

The Archbishop could feel the energies of her Chosen's reincarnation bathing his stronghold well before the Network notified her of such.

The Warlock had already told Maria that she would not be appearing in battle with him unless it was at his own stronghold or to capture the Commander, but she couldn't help but feel a little testy. She was specially requested, specially made for the task of assisting him.

Perhaps it was a form of protection. Archbishop Maria did not have the sanctions of the sarcophagus afforded to her. She was confident she could hold her own in battle, but with XCOM's forces getting more and more proficient with their weapons and tactics… she had lost many a sister. The Warlock was seeming more reluctant to bring them nowadays. His orders had been more to keep them inside of his stronghold, safe from threats… but also not able to assist him in battle. Such was his duality, of wanting to serve the Elders to his fullest extent… but not also wanting to lose his Priests.

Whatever the case, there was a more pressing matter. The mission Warlock Tessura embarked upon was not long ago at all. For him to return into the embrace of the Elders this fast…

No, that was inaccurate. To say that he was in Their care at all was as well–he would not have been thrown back so quickly.

Maria found herself striding through the halls of the stronghold, her God-given height lending more aid to her strides. She stepped on the portal for his Inner Sanctum and was quickly swept up in psionics, welcoming the vast power of the Elders' Network as she was ferried to her destination.

She touched down smoothly as she was deposited into the new room, spying her Warlock in front of his sarcophagus. She caught him just in time was he was turning away, saying something she couldn't catch from her distance. Maria could, however, see his despondent stance, and her connection to him keyed her in to his despair. She walked in further, just far enough that he looked at her, dropping into a bow when he did.

"My Warlock?"

She got a sigh in response, chancing looking up. Jax-Rai remained where he was, arms limp at his sides. The Elders truly did drop him off without so much as a consoling word, it seemed like. For just a second, her heart twinged with an emotion she couldn't identify before she snuffed it out. Maria stood up, slowly stepping towards her Chosen. She felt the need to make conversation, even if it was about the obvious. "My Warlock… did the Elders speak to you at all?"

He shook his head, eyes lidded, not stopping her from coming closer. "It is my own fault. I have failed Them yet again, and I should be glad that They do not smite me where I stand." After he said that, he shuddered, crossing and rubbing his arms. Because she was so close, Maria got a few ghosts of his feelings–fear, anxiety, and… acceptance. Once again that twinge hit her but it was gone as quickly as it came.

The Archbishop stepped closer. "There will always be another chance, my Warlock. Give them time to recover from Their anger and surely They will be loving once again."

He looked to the side, refusing to look at Maria. "I fear I am soon running out of chances… soon, I do not think They will have love left for me."

This… was the most despondent she had seen her Chosen. The twinge hit her again but this time it stayed for a bit longer, and she identified the feeling–wrath. Her Berserker DNA speaking, surely. Something she trained herself to ignore, but in this case…? No, she could not entertain it. Especially since that wrath seemed to be directed at…

She shook her head, both to clear her thoughts and banish his worries. She stepped closer, putting a hand on one of his shoulders. "Warlock Tessura, surely you don't mean that."

But the Warlock seemed to be far away, his eyes unfocused. She caught his hands shaking and then the phantoms of memories hit her–of being torn apart by powerful psionics, far greater than she could imagine, being forced to the floor by Them, attacked from every direction specifically to overload his mind… She surely would've been just as lost in the memories if her Warlock hadn't managed to timidly whisper something.

"It's not fair."

Spoken like a child… which was what he was. A scared child, punished by the Elders, worrying for when the next crack of the belt would ring out. That wrath hit Maria again but instead she channeled it, right into a hug for her Chosen. She was not normally the one to initiate contact like this but it was clear he needed it–and caring for her Chosen was the reason for her existence.

The Warlock froze for a second, standing there, but Maria could sense that he was out of the memory. Eventually, he quickly drew her in, as if afraid she would drop the gesture if he waited too long. His arms squeezed her tightly, so hard a lesser being would be crying out in pain. Maria's sturdiness allowed her to stay there, pulsing her power into her hands and her Solace, smoothing them both over Warlock Tessura.

She could feel him shake and take in a tentative breath, shuddering it out. Maria kept her hands moving across his back, humming gently.

If the Elders did not wish to give him proper affection… she had no complaints that it would rest on her instead.