Jules's Letter

Upon the magnificent ebony long table inlaid with stars sat an exquisite typewriter.

Beside it stood another scribe, quill in hand, ready to make a fair copy of the words at any moment.

Jules looked at the few people in the room, their faces full of deference. The gears above his brow tightened slightly, and he waved a hand, signaling for them all to leave.

Once the door had closed, Jules pulled out a chair and sat before the long table. He placed both hands on the typewriter and flexed his fingers a few times, yet he could not get comfortable. It felt strangely awkward.

After some thought, he removed the triple crown symbolizing the Pope from his head and casually set it aside. Only then did his expression ease somewhat.

Placing the parchment into the typewriter's carriage, Jules habitually tapped the backspace key a few times to check its condition.

Then, the metal keys and levers began clattering away.

"Beatrice, I'm sorry that I have only written to you now."

"These years in the Church must have been difficult. That triple crown is terribly heavy, yet you had no choice but to wear it."

"But it doesn't matter. I killed them all."

"Come to think of it, it was amusing. They were clearly Transcendents, possessing immense power and able to warp reality through sheer will, yet even when I held a knife to their throats, they could not believe that I would actually strike."

"Now, I am both the Pope and the entire Secret Keeper Council."

"That is only fitting, seeing as I am also a [Secret Keeper]."

As though he had recalled something, Jules smiled softly.

"I wonder how you are faring in Castel. Come to think of it, I was rather surprised that you managed to survive