<strong>The Kane estate in Sussex, 8:12 AM.</strong><br/><br/>He was very, very late.<br/><br/>Lucas was certain of that. This was his first time to London without Father Frollo since the man had always insisted on coming for personal reasons that he never revealed. Because of this, the young man was a bit lost due to the fact Father Frollo knew the roads better than him and his map reading skills were not his best skills that he was trained for.<br/><br/>It took him a good three hours running around, asking random strangers where this was or that before he realized that he was going in the wrong direction.<br/><br/>He was pushed and cursed at, nearly run over, propositioned by the streetwalkers and the prostitutes (he lectured them on the sins of that until they actually called the police him for being a 'another religious whackjob') and nearly got into an altercation with two drunk men in the busy streets of London. And almost got run over for that as well.<br/><br/>He yearned for the serenity Vatican after that ordeal had but calmed himself down enough to remember his mission at the moment. He couldn't complain or moan about it. It would do nothing at all. The Lord has done much and asked for so little. Could he not do the same as well for a little while? He tapped the cross he wore on his neck, asking for strength before continuing on.<br/><br/>The young man walked up to the gates of the Kane estate and stopped there, taking his time to feel the presence of faith in the Lord before attempting to let them know that he was here. It was a force of habit he has had ever since Father Frollo's death, just wishing to see what type of character and person he will meet and to be prepared better for events that will come to him. He closed his eyes, trying to find the faith and love for the Father.<br/><br/>There was none. He opened his eyes, wide in shock, and stared warily at the estate now as if it will come up and attack him. How could no one believe in the Lord? Having been raised in the Vatican all his life, exposed to God and religion nearly everyday for the past twenty four years, it perplexed and befuddled him to no end.<br/><br/>There he was again! Complaining. He shook his head, mad at himself for being such an ingrate like this. If these people know something about the girl, he would be more than happy to talk to them. Besides, it wasn't in his right to pry into their matters or view of God. All he could do is pray for them after this was over. Now... how does he knock? He had a feeling knocking on the iron bars wasn't the most sane of choices.<br/><br/>"Hello?" Lucas called out, looking for something that will let him know that he was here. He saw a rope that hung nearby him and wondered if that was what he should touch. He tugged on it in experimentation, and did it a few more times for good measure. "Hello? It is I, Lucas Carpenter. I'm here for the... ah, conversation you wish to have with him that we conversed earlier before."<br/><br/>He stood back and waited, touching<em>Fides</em>which was in its' scabbard for comfort. The broadsword glowed and hummed warmth and protection, making him fell at peace.<br/><br/>For five months, it was almost<em>Fides</em>alone that gave him the will to live and to continue on after Father Frollo's brutal murder. He had almost lost hope when he had learned in the hospital, being treated for burn wounds, that the Vatican were planning to cover the murder of Father Frollo up like the others had done.