The doors to the cathedral were closed by two men in dark blue combat pants and white shirts. They lacked guns, but were each armed armed with single black tonfa on the hip. These were not normal street patrol officers, but they were part of the Mexico City Police Department. Once Holocaust had attacked, the police were the first line of defense until the military could arrive. However their small-caliber bullets did nothing to stop the monster, and they'd soon retreated. Sense of duty in the face of impossible odds is probably easier for military men, especially when they can't go right back home to be with their families. A number of officers had abandoned their positions to seek refuge, but who could ever blame them? They would be accomplishing little more than giving Holocaust more victims if they'd continued in formation of an attack perimeter around him.

A small crowd of people had gathered around the disfigured youth. Federico was barely breathing, trapped in a near catatonic stage. It wasn't clear if he was just ignoring the others, or if he was looping within a verbalized stupor. Repetition of the words, "He llegado..." escaped his lips to be heard by those nearest. The wall of human bodies that had formed within the house of worship, combined with the low volume level of Federico's voice (a whisper at best), prevented the stone walls and cavernous architecture from amplifying his calls.

Xi'an watched him, listened to him, this young man who was all but living past his time. Standing there beside Sabra, it was a gruesome sight to behold. But even as she was mortified by what she was seeing, she couldn't look away. Archbishop Tapia asked for his followers to give the boy some space, to return to their prayers. "The creature responsible for this truly is a spawn of Hell is said to delight in human suffering. It is truly a miracle that he remains alive in his condition. God has touched this young man, that is to be certain, that he survived his encounter."

Miracle? Shan repeated in her thoughts. How can this be a miracle? How is it divine intervention, blessing by God that a boy should be this way? I doubt he's even fifteen and he's suffered a grave misfortune by living through his injuries. Every microsecond that he remains alive must be defined by an indescribable pain. If anything, that a just and loving Creator would intervene to keep this boy breathing is infinite cruelty. Were I the type to pray, I would pray not for his life but for him to pass on and be free of his pain.

Tapia wouldn't stop, kneeling beside the boy and holding his one hand. "Yes, dear child, you have arrived. You are safe here within the house of the Lord. Providence has enacted to see you here safely." Xi'an couldn't believe what she was hearing, thinking that Providence was lazy, late, and a bit of a jackass that it couldn't get him there physically intact. "Ines, hand me your sweater," the archbishop requested of a teenage girl standing 9 feet away.

Ines Rojas-Herrera, daughter of the Chief of Police, was safe and sound inside the cathedral. Federico was so desperately worried about her earlier. While it was the case that she was abducted from her school grounds (right by the street), the two men who took her did not know who she was. Their only reason for taking her in their van was to keep Federico's bodyguard from pursuing. Of course, it never would have occurred to Estevan to do that in the first place. But as soon as they were safe, the kidnappers released her at the church. This was before Holocaust attacked, of course. And how fortunate for her that she wasn't at school... it was burned to the ground with countless students, faculty, and staff still inside. She, she was the lucky one that she was unharmed, and by turn of fortune actually unharmed. Federico... Divine Providence had acted upon him, yet in a different way; he was a device to Ines's safety.

It would be like a sermon, an excerpt anyway, from one of Joel Osteen's services. He talked about a man who moved houses for a living. He'd been driving out to the middle of nowhere, it took him all day. And just as he and his crew were arriving, the boss realized that they were missing a chain. It was an important chain, though replaceable; they needed a chain to properly set the house. They'd been driving all day, and nothing was around there, so if they left, they'd have to go back the next day and they didn't want that. So the boss, who'd never prayed before in his life, prayed for a chain. And what happened but a truck was zooming down the highway at that moment. And as it passed by those workers, a chain fell out of the back of the truck. The boss picked up the chain and said, "Boys, let's go to work."

The point of Osteen's story was that the Lord provides if you but pray for it. As it pertains to Federico, however, it illustrates that people are devices to Providence. After all, the workers got their chain, but if Osteen is saying that the Lord gave it to them, He had to take it away from the person in the truck. And what about that person who lost their chain? He could have stopped his truck later, to realize that he had no chain either, and he needed one for his own reasons. Was he consulted in this redistribution of materials? Of course not, because he was just a tool to facilitating positive divine intervention for another person.

Xian wondered aloud, "Why would he come here?" Tapia jumped on that, answering boastfully yet in an appropriately somber tone. "This is the house of the Lord. It is here that millions of people find their shelter from the hurtful trivialities of life. It is their strength and it is their support, what keeps them motivated to face their days on this earth with no fear or regrets. It may not make sense to you, but it is the backbone of our culture. We are a people of faith, and as St. Augustine wrote, Est autem fides credere quod nondum vides; cuius fidei merces est videre quod credis. A very insightful saying, it means, in English Faith is to believe what you do not see; the reward of this faith is to see what you believe." You don't have to understand these people's faith, simply know that they have it and that this house will be a much greater reassurance to them than your words will be.

Xi'an Coy Manh did not disagree with what Tapia said. The archbishop was most likely correct about his flock. She couldn't debate him on what the locals were thinking, being in that church. He could understand their prayers, and had known these people for presumably a long time. Shan was a stranger in their land, a stranger to their language. However, she wasn't unfamiliar with Roman Catholicism, not by any stretch of the imagination. It was Father Michael Bowen, a Catholic priest, who had visited her native country of Vietnam. He was the one who ventured into the central highlands to set up a mission. He was a family friend, and taught her of his religion. Even if the trials she'd faced in her life had caused a lapse in her faith, Karma was still familiar with what it meant to have faith.

Xi'an stepped forward, past Sabra, and over to the archbishop. "But this is not how it should be. This is not how God wants you to behave. Faith does not mean huddling in a church, where that murderer can easily kill hundreds with minimal effort. Faith does not mean taking no action to protect oneself, leaving it in the Lord's hands. While these people are praying, do you want to know what He is saying in response? He wants these people out of this cathedral, out of this section of town. He wants you to be proactive about saving yourselves and getting as far away from that monster as you can. And He, I'm sure, would like it for you to cut down on the unnecessarily-righteous speech about Providence and miracles."

The presence of her body, and her body language, acted to overtake the religious leader. He moved away from Federico, though did not leave the area. Shan took Federico's hand; his condition remained the same. Ines was there as well, on her knees beside him saying a silent prayer for him. Tears were in her eyes, understandably so given that her good friend, boyfriend, was lying on the stone floor in front of her with his life maintained by some thread of willpower. Archbishop Tapia disagreed with Shan, saying, "Silly child, it must be Providence responsible for giving him the strength to reach us."

"No, what got him here is plain human willpower. But this..." she paused as she waved her hand over what remained of his body, all 24% of it. So much of his body mass was missing, it was near-sickening to see. The smell of burnt flesh hung on him, and he was bleeding from having dragged himself along the ground for blocks to reach the cathedral. "This is not, in any way, a miracle. This is a tragedy, a vivid image of human suffering. Your reaction should not be rejoice in the goodness of God but to weep for a young man who must be in unimaginable pain right now. He should be spared of this, not forced to live through it."

She did wish for him to be spared, and could do it. Where was God now, when one of His children needed Him the most? Was this boy's terrible fate a part of some divine plan? What did the lad do to deserve it? Had he done anything at all? Was it true, to the extreme, that horrible things happen to good people? The clergy would use the answer that God allows bad things, evil things, to occur so that through them Good may spring forth. Karma mentally *dared* any creator to explain to her how this boy's condition was *good*. It couldn't be; Shan couldn't accept that this was something that had to happen. And what about people being devices to an end? Was Shan, though a lapsed Catholic, still a part of a grand scheme? She was there, now, in that moment, and she could see but one thing in Federico's plight. Evil, cruelty, that which surpassed even the sadism expressed by her brother through the use of his mutant abilities.

Tran had regularly used his power of possession to kill, and indeed Shan could say that she knew how to do the same. She didn't though; not without the exception of absorbing her brother's life force. But she deemed that necessary to protect life, a greater good in the form of preventing Tran from using the bodies of superheroes to fight each other. His death was something that weighed on her every moment, as he was still inside of her, if only as a subtle influence. She could kill with her powers, though, and she swore that she would never do it again. Nevertheless, sitting there with Federico, she could not help but to strain herself, beat herself up, for she was about to go against her self-charged oath.

Coy Manh closed her eyes, gripping Alvarez's hand tightly as she activated her mutant powers. There was no outward indication that she was doing anything, which helped not to make a scene. Real Catholics are against the sort of thing that Karma was about to do. Extending her mind into Federico's, briefly opening her eyes so that she could enable the connection, she produced the psionic trigger that allowed her to enter his brain. While completely in control of her own body, Xi'an was also now controlling that of the young boy as well. She knew as much, he'd stopped saying "He llegado" in repetition.

In her head, though unable to speak directly to his mind telepathically, Shan nontheless issued Federico a mental comfort. You don't deserve this... not at all. You shouldn't live like this. You can't live like this. I know you must be hurting every moment, and it's unfair to you. It may not be my place to decide this, but I cannot sit by in good conscience and let you suffer. Forgive me....

Alvarez twitched in his position on the floor. He didn't move a great deal, thanks to the extent of his injuries, but that movement was noticeable. Xi'an held his hand the entire time, staying with him during these last moments. The twitching transformed into mild convulsions; he was definitely making a scene now. Shan didn't have any songs to sing, to wish him well; all she could do was ask the Lord, on Alvarez's behalf, that He take this young one. Federico's hand firmly within hers, she didn't let go. She wouldn't let go, remaining as his rock at that moment when he was in most need of one. It was heart-wrenching and disgusting, and worst of all, it wasn't brief.

For 83 seconds, she was with his body, partially in his body, willing him to die by the only method she could given the crowd: by controlling Alvarez's breathing. She was asphyxiating him with his own body, something that was unpleasant even for her to think about. One minute and twenty-three seconds... that's how long it took for Karma's euthanasia to be complete. It was at that moment that she was kicked out of his body. She knew that was the indication of his passing; she could not control dead bodies. Tran had first exhibited that limitation back in Vietnam, when their village was destroyed. Tran... he had to be pleased with Xi'an right now, lurking dormant somewhere within her mind. He'd most likely done this himself and got a kick out of it.

Not Karma, she wasn't a monster like her twin brother or Holocaust. I'm sorry.... she apologized mentally while placing his hand over his heart and closing his eyelids. Tears in her eyes, Shan silently stood up, the boots from her New Mutants uniform making a sound as though they were creaking. Coy Manh backed away, choosing out of respect to walk around Alvarez, rather than to step over him. Passing by Sabra, she said in a very low voice, "Let's go." And was silent as she exited the cathedral, a place into which she did not want to set foot again.