One old man supported another as they walked along the street.
They walked very slowly, but the scenery on either side passed rather hurriedly.
"You're going to sleep just like that?" Rasma asked, looking at Dis, whom he was supporting.
"Yes."
"How can you bear to?" Rasma shook his head, unable to quite understand.
"When you have something truly important, there's nothing else you can't bear to give up."
"No, I mean, people are selfish." Rasma sighed. "Even if it's a lie, when you've believed it for almost your entire life, whether it's true no longer really matters. Denying a lie is easy. Denying yourself is the hard part."
Rasma pointed at himself.
"Take me, for example. If I discovered I was wrong, I'd probably choose to keep playing dumb. So what if I'm wrong? It's no big deal."
"I once thought that way too."
"And then?"
"Then I condensed a second Godhead Fragment."
"..." Rasma fell silent.
"It's painful. Whether you believe or disbelieve, or choose avoidance and passivity, it won't let you go."
"Who do you mean by 'it'?"
"Order."
"Oh, oh." Rasma nodded twice. "So this is what they call a happy kind of pain?"
"Happiness is only a surface appearance that easily fades. The pain at its core lasts forever. Look at those three today. If they'd been facing provocation from any other opponent, they certainly wouldn't have allowed them to carry on so outrageously.
"The more they indulged me today, the more it proved just how important Godhead Fragments are to the Order Temple now."
"I'm not qualified to enter yet, so I don't know," Rasma said. "You understand. The church and the temple look like one entity, but they're actually two different worlds."
Just then, Dis pressed down on Rasma's arm. Rasma slowed his