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The Suspect is taking his sweet damn time walking but you don't want to confront him in the open just yet; There has to be a reason he's pretending to be Gabriel.
The buildings subtly shift as you get closer to the Church. Their outward appearances aren't any different but there's that subtle stench of something living in the air now. The stench of fresh S-Corp architecture. Something must've happened here recently; You smelled something like this when you went to your bombed out apartment block and saw S-Corp trying to rebuild the place.
The crowds are thinning out as well. The few people who scuttle up and down the freshly repaired streets are clearly hesitant to be here. You caught a glimpse of a group of men in all black watching for anyone who might be vulnerable. They vanish as quickly as you spot them with fear in their eyes; As if the mere prospect of being spotted means death.
The air is thick with a tension that's hard to properly describe. As if at any moment, the other shoe's going to drop. Maybe he looks behind and sees the six people following him. Maybe one of those weird men in black jumps out and starts a fight.
Yet, nothing happens. You arrive at the church with no complications. That doesn't seem to clear up the air though, you still don't know what the Suspect actually wants to do. The church is in a small lot that gives it some decent space from the other buildings. The faint green grass of the church grounds breaks up the otherwise mind-numbing haze of white you've seen everywhere.
The church itself is not much to write home about. It's a one story building with the same white paint as every other building. It, thankfully, breaks the momentous white color scheme by the inclusion of several stained glass windows across both sides of the building. A large stone cross is also planted firmly at the top of the building's roof.
A few old stone statues of various saints are scattered around the dirt path leading right towards the entrance of the church. The suspect starts making his way down said path but abruptly stops once the front door to the church opens.
"So, any plans?" Clover taps his foot impatiently.
"Let's watch what happens."
A wizened old man stands in the now opened doorway. To call him human anymore would be a stretch. His aged body has decayed and withered far, far beyond what a regular human should endure. His musty, parchment-like skin tautly clings to his skeletal frame as if it was vacuumed sealed to him. There's barely any muscle mass to his arms, legs or torso.
A long flowing white robe with gold etched across its sleeve is draped over his skeletal frame. The large golden staff he uses as a walking cane and the fancy mitre on top of his head tells you he has to be a Bishop. A rank above a Priest.
"That man has to be 140, 135 at the youngest" Benjamin shivers at the mummy-like Bishop's appearance. "Creepy. I don't see any implants."
"I don't detect any," Max taps at the detector in her pocket.
