The Central Command Center of Vatican Intelligence
The Office of Father Auciello
That Evening
In the heart of the Vatican’s Central Command Center of Vatican Intelligence, Father Auciello was pouring himself into the complexities of digital intelligence. His fingers danced across the sleek surfaces of his master tech console, navigating through layers of encrypted data with practiced ease. The task at hand was often discouraging, yet Father Auciello approached it with a determined focus, his mind alight with the urgency of his mission.
Satellite imagery had yielded nothing but shadows and uncertainty, the craggy peaks of Transylvania concealing their secrets beneath layers of rugged terrain. Yet within the labyrinthine networks of cyberspace, faint traces emerged—digital footprints hinting at the presence of a hidden stronghold nestled amidst the mountains. It was a revelation tinged with uncertainty, a glimmer of possibility within the darkness of conjecture.
With measured precision, Father Auciello compiled his findings, weaving together a tapestry of data that spoke of hidden truths and elusive anonymities. As he scrutinized the results, a sense of apprehension gripped him—the weight of responsibility heavy upon his shoulders. How could he convey the gravity of his discoveries to the pontiff, when certainty eluded even the most skilled cyber analysts?
Summoning his mettle, Father Auciello contacted the pontiff’s chamber through a direct line, the phone placed on speaker. When the pontiff accepted the call, he said, "Your Holiness, I’m afraid that satellite imagery has proven inconclusive, although, we’ve managed to unearth a trail. There exists, with 85% certainty, evidence of a hidden stronghold beneath the craggy peaks of Transylvania."
"Eighty-five percent," the pope murmured. "A tenuous thread, at best, to weave our hopes upon."
"It is, Your Holiness. Yet it’s a lead worth pursuing."
“Could it be a ghostly blip from elsewhere, perhaps a foreign transmission that we’re intercepting?”
“We already looked into that. And it’s not. The signal from the IP address is consistent and coming from a stabilized position. Albeit, one we cannot see.”
"Monitor the situation closely, Father. At this juncture, even at 85%, I must inform the Society of Seven."
"Yes, Your Holiness. And with your permission, I will notify Isaiah to assemble a recon team."
"And what of the AI programming that continues to threaten our European allies?"
"We continue to aid them, Your Holiness. But, at this point, we’re only putting out fires."
“Maintain that vigilance of doing so. But keep the discovery of the location silent since we’re incapable of validating the location with absolute certainty. In the meantime, I will confer with the members of the Society of Seven and see if they will agree to gathering a recon team that is capable of turning into an assault team for possible deployment in Transylvania. They can be installed in as little as four hours.”
“Be careful, Your Holiness. Remember, the Black Monk may have eyes and ears within the walls of the Vatican . . . And those eyes and ears may belong to someone with the Society of Seven.”
“I understand, Father. But I don’t have a choice since the protocol of conferring with the Society is mandated by Vatican law. Especially when we don’t know if an infiltrator truly exists outside of mere conjecture on the part of Vatican Intelligence.”
“I understand, Your Holiness.”
“Stay on top of things, Good Father, and contact me with additional information that may shed light on this matter.”
“I will, Your Holiness.”
When Father Auciello hit the ‘off’ button, the click of cutting off communication sounded definitive.