“**Amen**” Cesare finished the prayer in a near whisper, before lifting his head and forcing his heavy body to follow. The “leader”, Isaac Bellhan, had summoned forth a group to speak with. Unfortunately for Cesare and Julis, it would seem that the group had included them. It was rather irritating, having to listen to the words of an anarchist, but Cesare had put him (and by extension his brother Julis) in this position. Neither cause was the good cause, in Cesare’s eyes, both cause sickened him. It just so happened that The Free Men offended Cesare less. One thing that remained a mystery to Cesare is why exactly he and his brother were accepted so easily into the “Beacons”, though he did not dwell on it too much. He was a valuable tool and he knew it, wearing it like a badge of honor. Perhaps his pride would be his downfall, but he knew that he would still be accepted by the lord.

Or at least, that’s how he felt.

Finally standing all the way up, Cesare did a few simple stretches to offset the pain of simply standing up. It took a lot of effort, mainly because he had to get over 600 kg off the ground using nothing but his own God-given body and strength.  It wasn’t an easy task, but at least it didn’t hurt as much as it used to. After he reached around 200 kg and 3 meters, well things began to get very complicated. Even with his strong frame, his bones would break under the sheer weight of his body. There were a few instances where he had serious internal injuries, but modern-day medical technology proved to be very helpful. He was also thankful that he did not turn out like his brother, whom he turned to look at now. “Come brother.” Cesare said, in a soft voice much unlike that he used with anyone else. He extended a hand and motioned for the smaller Julis to clamber upon his back so that he could carry him to Isaac Bellhan, for whatever it was they had been summoned for.