[Eldergrove Town]
[Late at night.]
In the office of the priest Elore, a figure flickered at the centre.
The man had an old, kind appearance with a wrinkled face and he wore a pristine white robe.
He was the eighteenth pope of the Church of Goddess Morana.
Pope Elon, the wise.
The pope opened his eyes as he looked at the young man on the chair.
Akamir leaned back, placing the legs on the table as he looked back at him.
"I hope you are in good health."
The recording of Pope Elon spoke as he looked forward.
"It's been so long since I saw you, Elore."
Akamir leaned forward and paused the projector that was showing the recording.
He then moved his chair to look at the kneeling Elore or the one wearing his skin.
"Have you sorted out all his memories?" Akamir asked, tilting his head.
The mimicker nodded. "I have, my lord."
"How is Elore related to the Pope?" Akamir asked curiously. "I remember him screaming that he is the pope's people before dying."
