Frostpunk Divine Throne-Chapter 17: I Forgive You

A small squad of soldiers stood before Cyren and Joseph. They wore black and red turndown collar coat uniforms. Their epaulets, armbands, and belts gleamed brightly. Their waists bulged with ammunition, and they held metal rifles with wooden stocks.
These were breech-loading metal cartridge rifles. The chambers were already locked. As long as they pulled the trigger, the firing pin would strike the primer of the bullet, and the metal bullet would rapidly exit the rifled barrel and then penetrate a human body.
Joseph's expression was stiff. His consciousness, unwilling to show weakness, barely concealed his fear, causing his angry expression to freeze on his face in a comical posture, but anyone could see his outward strength masking inner weakness.
The soldiers' faces showed arrogant expressions. When people perceived the other party's weakness, they would press their advantage.
Cyren stepped forward and looked calmly at the squad leader, "Do you believe in God?"
The soldier looked at Cyren without flinching, "I do, but I will prioritize following orders."
He was a head taller than Cyren. His robust pectoral muscles and biceps made the black coat appear imposing. Looking down at Cyren was quite oppressive. He stepped forward to tower over this fellow.
"Of course, you choose to follow orders." Cyren looked at him, his eyes completely calm, "In your eyes, the Church and Empire are two opposing forces. As a soldier, you make your living through strength and loyalty. If the Empire needs it, you would stand on the Empire's side without hesitation. So you choose to obey Rain's orders. Let me guess what that would be, guard the warehouse area. If Church people want to go to the Holy Treasury, you tell them the passage belongs to the Governor's jurisdiction and isn't allowed through. You might question the rationality of the order, but you're only guarding the passage, not directly preventing me from going to the Holy Treasury. You don't need to bear the guilt of 'blockading the Holy Treasury,' right?"
The soldier's momentum weakened somewhat. He struggled to hold his head high, using his height of over 1.9 meters to look down on Cyren, "Following orders is a soldier's sacred duty!"
Cyren looked at him calmly, "Whose orders are you following? God's or the devil's? Did you ask who gave the order? Did you ask about the meaning behind the order? Did you ask about the impact executing the order would cause?"
"Do you know the Holy Treasury stores winter clothing and food for over a thousand people? Do you know Rain made one hundred and seventy-six innocent civilians freeze on the church floor, just to defile the Lord's sanctuary with manure?"
"You're not stopping me, nor the Church's authority, but the lives of living people just like you. Can't you hear it? On the ice and snow, there are people dying, people struggling in despair. There are husbands who will never see their wives, fathers who will never see their children, and people who will never see their brothers and sisters."
"God has mercy on all this. He sends angels to save those who suffer, yet you stand before the gates of Heaven saying, this is the Governor's territory, please detour through hell to reach the mortal world, because that place isn't under the Governor's jurisdiction. Isn't that laughable?"
"Only devils stand before Heaven's gates. I pity you. Go ahead and block this place! Let your soul belong to the devil, easily abandoning your place in Heaven!"
"You poor person deceived by others yet unaware of your sin. You say 'following orders is a soldier's sacred duty,' pushing all sin and responsibility onto your superiors, then you can release the devil in your heart, ignoring those suffering people and afflicted brothers and sisters."
"Ah! How pure you are. You know nothing. You're only following orders. You've given your heart and thoughts entirely to your superiors, letting that God-given flesh and blood become a heartless machine. No matter how vile the acts you execute, you bear no responsibility, because you're a machine following orders. How laughable for me to curse a killing machine, isn't it?"
Cyren's words gushed out like a string of pearls, becoming faster toward the end. His face still wore that calm expression, like an angel of judgment, but his tone was full of rebuke, as if rebuking the devil's crimes.
The squad leader's face had long turned pale. The several ordinary soldiers behind him wished they could kneel directly.
"After the Son of God was whipped and abused, those evil people were to send him to Golgotha, but he was already too weak to carry the cross on his back. So the evil people made Simon nearby carry the cross. Simon submitted to that malicious order and carried the Son of God to Golgotha. He could certainly say, I was only following orders, but didn't he also become an accomplice to the Son of God's death? Yes, you want to be the gun in a killer's hand. When the Governor fires, he is guilty. A gun that is merely an object is of course innocent, but are you a gun? Tell me, believer! Are you a weapon? Or are you a person?!"
The squad leader gritted his teeth, saying nothing.
"Since you believed in God, since you were baptized, your name was recorded in Heaven. You are a person with God-given flesh and soul, born to become a person in this world. Why debase yourself to a weapon? Abandoning thought and a holy soul, giving your flesh to others, binding your beliefs and will to some concept claimed to be very great, abandoning thought, abandoning life, abandoning being human!"
"Tell me your name, soldier. That is your mark as a person, the symbol you inscribed in Heaven. You should not be some soldier. You are God's people. You have a name."
The squad leader took a long breath, "Hans, Hans Kent."
"Very good, Hans." Cyren's hand touched the top of his head. Although Hans was considerably taller than him, not a single person present felt the bishop was short. He seemed like an apostle from Heaven, his eyes carrying compassion and love, touching someone who had gone astray, "I pray for you, I bear your sins for you. Remember, you are not some soldier, not some number, not an insignificant gear in some huge system, much less a weapon to be used at will. You are human, you are your parents' child, God's people, my brother and sister."
That tall man wept bitterly. He grasped Cyren's hand and knelt on the ground.
"Merciful Lord! Heavenly Father! I am guilty, I am guilty... When I received the order I felt conflicted, but as you said, I imagined myself as a weapon, a tool. I thought I was just a soldier executing orders. I nearly followed the devil's instruction to block an angel's arrival! I have parents. They're both southerners. I don't know how they are, whether they'll freeze in the wind and snow... But I worry about my own parents yet ignore others' parents suffering. I am the devil's accomplice, Lord Bishop! Forgive me, pardon me! Please say something, forgive me!"
Cyren watched him weeping, kissing the ring of authority, compassionately stroking his hair.
"I forgive you." He said.