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Summary
“Immortal? Yes,” Narinder said, leaning down and slipping one massive skeletal finger under the Lamb’s scruffy chin. “You are thus, Lamb. Immortal, frozen in time. You shall not age, nor bleed out as long as I allow it. The only thing you still keep from your time as my Vessel. No longer as you can see, is your life tied to your Cult, for it is no more.”
Aka, what if Narinder won but instead decided to keep the Lamb around as his eternal plaything, while the Lamb works to right her mistake in the backround by freeing the other Bishops and teaching Narinder a severe lesson in humility?
Buckle up cause I have no clue what I am doing.