Encouraged by Gabriel's gaze, Greg began to speak.
"I... I saw things there. I heard them too! I..."
His voice caught so badly he could barely continue. He clutched his hair in anguish.
"To survive, I compromised. I watched terrible things happen... I... I may even have indirectly caused other people's suffering because I was too cowardly and stayed silent..."
Greg never mentioned cannibalism or any specific atrocity. Instead, he described the horror in vague terms, carefully centering his confession on his own "weakness," "fear," "lack of choice," and "indirect responsibility."
"I have nightmares every night. Those voices, those eyes..." Greg trembled even harder as tears streamed down his face.
"I hate myself. Why didn't I have the courage to fight back like a real hero? Why could I only hide like a rat and pray that I wouldn't be the next one chosen?"
He suddenly lunged toward the door and pounded on it in agitation.
"Father! Father Gabriel! Will God... will God forgive a coward like me? Someone who only wanted to survive, but ended up carrying all this sin because of it?"
The confession might as well have been written specifically for Gabriel.
As he listened, Gabriel felt his own eyes grow hot.
Looking at Greg, he seemed to see himself at the beginning of the apocalypse, hiding behind the sturdy doors of his church, listening to his congregation scream and beg for help outside, yet ultimately refusing to open the doors because fear and cowardice had overwhelmed him.
The same weakness. The same excuse of wanting to protect himself. The same kind of choice made under unbearable circumstances, only to have it torment his conscience day and night afterward.
The guilt Gabriel had buried deep inside himself, guilt he had never truly let go of, was stirred violently by Greg's tears and words.
Gabriel understood that feeling all too well.
This wasn't someone deliberately choosing evil out of cruelty. It was someone who had been overwhelmed by fear in a desperate situation, someone whose humanity had briefly dimmed beneath the pressure.
Wasn't a person like this exactly the kind of "lost sheep" who most needed guidance, forgiveness, and redemption?
"Young man..." Gabriel's own voice grew choked with emotion.
He reached through the bars, wanting to touch Greg's trembling head, but the narrow gaps prevented him.
"Listen to me. God knows everything. He can see the pain and remorse in your heart. You're not a coward. You're just an ordinary person who was overwhelmed by fear in the face of unimaginable evil.
"Any of us can make mistakes. Any of us, in a moment of weakness, might choose the easier path even when it goes against our conscience. What matters is that you're here now. You're repenting. You want forgiveness."
His voice was filled with deep sympathy and certainty.
"God is merciful. His forgiveness is greater than our sins. If you truly repent, He will forgive you. You're not a monster. You're a wounded soul who needs time, compassion, and care to heal."
Greg raised his tear-filled eyes and stared at Gabriel in disbelief. Then he broke down even harder.
"Th-thank you, Father Gabriel! Thank you for... for still being willing to listen to me. For being willing to believe me..."
Standing nearby, Rick's frown only deepened.
Greg played the role of the perfect victim, and Gabriel's reaction was exactly what Rick had expected. If anything, Gabriel had become even more emotionally invested than he anticipated.
Still, Rick couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.
After seeing Terminus's raw, naked brutality firsthand, Greg's fragile, carefully worded confession somehow felt a little... too civilized.
It was like finding a delicate white flower blooming in the middle of a blood-soaked slaughterhouse.
But Rick had no evidence. Only instinct.
And Gabriel had clearly been completely drawn into Greg's story.
The visit soon reached its limit, and Rick forcibly brought it to an end.
Before the cell door closed, Greg gave Gabriel one last look filled with helpless dependence.
After leaving the cell block, Gabriel remained deeply unsettled.
He turned to Rick, agitation and dissatisfaction written across his face.
"Rick, you saw him. You heard him. That's a young man whose spirit has been badly wounded. He's suffering because of his weakness, and he's genuinely repenting!
"We should be helping him. Healing him. Not keeping him locked up like some dangerous object and then shipping him off to Rock Fortress. I've heard they'll only subject him to even stricter interrogation and isolation there. That could traumatize him all over again!"
Rick forced himself to remain patient.
"Gabriel, I understand how you feel. But orders are orders. The commander has her reasons."
"Her reasons?" Gabriel's tone sharpened.
He rarely spoke to Rick this way.
"Are her reasons nothing but absolute suspicion and cold procedures?
"Since coming here, I've seen this community take in strangers, give people trust, and give them another chance. Isn't that exactly what separates us from the world outside, the world that turns people into the walking dead?
"If we start assuming the absolute worst about a repentant young man who just crawled out of hell, then what exactly are we still trying to preserve?
"I've never even met the commander of Rock Fortress, but her decisions sound heartless. Authoritarian!"
"Gabriel!" Rick cut him off sharply. "Watch what you say. Every decision Calista has made so far has been meant to protect all of us.
"You already know some of what happened at Terminus. You cannot be too cautious with anyone coming out of a place like that. This isn't up for debate. The escort goes ahead as planned."
Seeing Rick's expression, Gabriel knew there was no point arguing further.
Frustration simmered inside him. Part of it came from Rick's unquestioning obedience to orders, but even more came from the strong dislike and unease he now felt toward that distant, cold commander.
Gabriel firmly believed that sending a soul so desperately in need of care and guidance to Rock Fortress amounted to a cruel abandonment.
He glanced back toward the cells and silently made up his mind.
At the very least, before Greg was taken away, he would visit as often as he could and offer him some spiritual comfort. He wanted Greg to know that not everyone viewed him with suspicion.
Gabriel couldn't stop the transfer, but perhaps he could at least let this lost lamb feel a little warmth from the flock before he left.
"Rick, can I come back a few more times over the next two days? Surely I can at least hear his confession?"
Rick was already tired of the matter, but Gabriel's persistence eventually wore him down. He agreed to allow a limited number of very brief conversations through the locked cell door.
Satisfied, Gabriel turned and left.
Rick watched him go, feeling even more irritated than before.
He knew Gabriel meant well.
But in the apocalypse, good intentions like these could sometimes cause even more trouble than outright malice.
He could only hope Zhou's squad would get the two troublesome survivors out of the prison quickly and without incident, allowing things to finally settle down again.
During his later visits, Gabriel read passages from the Bible to Greg in an attempt to bring him some peace. He even secretly brought him a piece of fruit.
Gabriel slipped it through to him with a compassionate expression.
"Greg, I picked this this morning. Sam and Ana grew it. They're a kind young couple, about your age, and the fruit they grow is delicious. I hope you like it."
Greg accepted it gratefully while inwardly rolling his eyes.
He had no interest in sweet, soft things like this.
What he liked was the people who grew the fruit.
Of course, none of that showed on his face.
Instead, he seized the opportunity to ask, "Father Gabriel, this place... and that Rock Fortress you mentioned. They must be incredible places, right?
"I can tell from what I've seen around here, and from the way you and Mr. Rick talk. The world outside is so dangerous, but you've managed to build somewhere this safe. You can grow food reliably, and you even take in useless sinners like me.
"I... I just want to know what kind of hopeful place I've been brought to. If God is really willing to give me another chance, then someday I'd like to do whatever little I can to repay that kindness."