Cipher Code {complete}

Chapter Twenty Four: Paper Lives •EDITED•

Like paper I am refined, reduced and perfected. He slipped his hand out of the cast of ice, blinking away the sleep in his eyes as he gently pushed Issac off him, slid to the side and sat with his back against a tree.

"I never worshipped the Law like the rest," Philip held his trembling hand out in front of him and watched the prison of ice it had been encased in melt into nothingness, "but I love reading so I guess it works for me."

With his strength fully restored by the recovery sequence of his suit, he jumped to his feet. The addictive heat flowed from his toes to his fingers. He nudged Issac with the tip of his foot then bent down to pick up his rifle.

"It's good to be back," he whistled and activated his goggles with a thought. The moon's glow started to fade away, too weak to resist being consumed by the fog.

"Issac," Philip peered down at the stirring captain, blond strands of ruffled hair falling over his eyes as he tipped his head forward, "wake up."

The man in question shifted in slumber, his lips pressed into a thin line beneath his mask and his brows slicked with sweat. For a moment Philip wondered if his old friend was stuck in the darkness like he was.

And the darkness clung to man like the moon drew the ocean, forever lost in the pull and push of eternity; without hope for redemption.

Philip dashed the passage away before he could think more on it, The Order would call him an infidel if they ever discovered what he really thought about them.

I don't believe.

The religion had replaced all others. It had become a major faith in North and crept into the belief systems of other nations until all who did not believe were known as profane.

"Phil?" It was that familiar croaky whisper that drew him from his thoughts, and Philip's gaze shifted into the questioning sea of ocean blue that always managed to melt his worry away. Even now when he was sure that he held no more love for the man, he still found it hard not to get lost in his eyes.

Issac blinked and the spell was broken, Philip cleared his throat and offered a hand to his superior.

"It's Philip, sir." he said with a quietness that rivalled the rustling wind in the background then pulled Issac up.

He took a step back.

"Nice to have you're back in the land of the lucid." He tried his voice again, staring into the barrel of his gun before he placed it in it's holster.

"Identity, Second will." Issac mumbled as his gaze fell to Philip's left hand. A frown deepening his expression in a way that made him seem so serious.

"Wha-" the messenger cut himself short when he realized that he had quoted more scripture, he bit his tongue and turned away.

He knew that he should start moving, that he should get out of here before something he couldn't handle came his way. But he didn't. He stayed because a part of him wondered if Issac would like to come along.

"To reside in the land of the lucid, maintaining clarity and abstaining from all forms of-"

"I know," Philip almost snapped before he took in a deep breath and calmed himself. "The book of Identity, the Second will, the thirty-ninth verse. I know."