Oliver thought himself a normal, shitty person.

Everyone was a bit shitty, he was just more upfront about it… most of the time. When it needed to be hidden he was quite good at hiding that.

Oliver was also certain that normal, shitty people, would be just as terrified and paranoid as he currently was, considering he had just killed someone, even if it was in self-defence.

“He tried to kill me, wanted to shove me in the furnace, I defended myself, it wasn’t my fault…” Oliver was trying and failing to convince himself that no bad things would happen as a result of this event, there was no way he’d be arrested right?

He couldn’t afford to go to jail, he didn’t want to, he was afraid, he couldn’t, couldn’t, couldn’t, COULD-

“Hey there.” Oliver heard the voice and snapped out of his mental dilemma, looking around wildly and realizing that he was not in the Undertaker’s office anymore…

He had stepped out, he could recall doing that, but for some reason he couldn’t remember walking in front of a church, his current location.

He managed to glance at the person who spoke, realizing that there was another person around, and finding a man with a medical eye-patch standing outside of the church wearing a black cassock with the full colour…

The man was old, with grey hair and beard, but going by his physique you probably wouldn’t guess, the man looked like someone who probably served in the military at some point.

“Are you going to step in or are you just going to stand there?” Oliver realized that he had just stopped to stare at the man and immediately got on with his act, knowing he didn’t want anyone to know-

“I’d think you’d want to have a confession after killing someone.” Oliver felt his blood pale, questioning how this man knew what he had done, knew to say these things…

“Of course I know what you’re thinking. Your eyes say a lot about you.” Oliver realized that there was something not quite right with the man’s voice, it was stern, but it also sounded like he ate gravel for breakfast along with drinking glass shards.

It should sound horrible and disturbing but it somehow fit the priest standing before Oliver.

“Come inside. Don’t worry about me ‘ratting you out’ so to speak… clergy are given leeway when it comes to withholding evidence.” The priest offered, opening the massive doors to the church as Oliver timidly stepped behind the man.

Walking behind the man, Oliver walked down the centre aisle of the church pews, many hooded believers with the heads bowed in prayer all around as Oliver twitched at the muttering and occasional movements of each believer.

No doubt if Stacy was around she would have laughed at his current appearance of fear and glancing around worriedly, Mike on the other hand would try to help him…

Oliver paused in his steps for a moment, wondering where his children were… then moved on, returning to the now.

He’d find them later after getting some of his own things sorted out.

He never saw the frowns on the face of every single blindfolded believer as they looked at him, shaking their heads before bowing their heads as one.

“You’re a disgusting human from my perspective, you know that?” The priest spoke out, drawing Oliver’s attention back to him, a frown on Oliver’s face as he realized what the man just said.

“Hey, you got a problem with me, just say what it is.” Oliver was not being very polite right now, he knew that, he could understand that, but he didn’t care right now.

The man in front of him knew he killed someone, and offered to listen to Oliver’s confession, that was already a bit shaking considering that this man who was presumably nowhere near the Undertaker’s office when the situation happened.

Now he had the guy judging him?

“Oh I’m not judging you. I’m actually being very objective with my statements after all.” Oliver’s frown deepened as he waved his arms angrily.

“I’m still feeling very judged- wait, how did you… never mind, what’s your name anyway, I’d like to at least know the name of the guy I’m talking to.” Oliver in his anger completely ignored that he wasn’t giving the same courtesy to the man he was speaking to, getting a roll of the single eye from said man.

“Right, I don’t really go by a name, it’s part of my position as the Pope of this church of the Watcher… You could just call me the Priest or Father. Someone also called me Balar once.” Understandably Oliver found that the latter was a bit more comfortable to call the man.

“Well, Balar… what makes you call me a disgusting person huh?” Oliver was an unfortunate victim of the idea of ‘blind rage’. He was so angry he didn’t even catch the predatory smile on the face of Balar.

“Oh it’s in your essence. We, of the Church of the Watcher, believe that the eyes are the windows to the soul, and that looking into them shows the real person, with no falsehood.” Oliver now looked at Balar, only to find his head held in a tight grip by the priest…

Clearly Balar was strong, his physique showed even through the cassock, but being unable to even move his head, Oliver could do nothing but stare into the sole molten gold eye of the priest…

Maybe it was a contact? It would add to the mysticism of this ‘Church of the Watcher’.

“Once more, I realize your disgusting nature. Rather, you remind me of how the ostrich is portrayed.” Oliver blinked for a moment, his head released as Balar stepped back slightly, looking at Oliver from his raised position.

Even on even ground the older man was taller though, Oliver was a solid one point nine and this guy was probably two metres minimum.

“Like the ostrich, when you see danger, you stick your head in the ground and pretend everything is alright, even when you know it’s not.” Balar had already clarified that ostriches weren’t actually like that, to be precise, people thought they did that.

Ostriches didn’t actually hit their heads into the ground when they were scared.

“…” Oliver for once, for once… For once Oliver listened, to the words of Balar. About how Oliver willingly deafened himself and blinded himself to the signs of danger.

How he willingly ignored that before him was not a man but a Giant with ripped skin, a single golden eye dripping golden fluid as the Giant whispered his powerful words to Oliver…

But… but…

“It’s… I don’t ignore danger… I just…” Oliver also considered, just once, to be honest about things.

“I’m afraid that if I acknowledge it, it will become real.” Oliver treated a lot of his problems like that.

The priest actually looked at Oliver at that, properly, with a long stare before the sole eye softened.

“Well… I suppose that you are not at fault for not being taught better I suppose, that’s on the people that raised you.” Balar’s eye then hardened, going from soft to stern once more.

“However you remain wilfully blind despite knowing the danger it puts you in… depending on how we look at it, you are either entirely unsuitable for this Church… or you’d be a very devout member.” Balar noted while he hummed in thought.

The priest then reached into a pocket he had in his cassock, from out of which Balar pulled out a length of cloth… something that the other people in the Church wore, the ones that the doctor, Van, wore…

Now that Oliver thought about it, the doctor and the Undertaker were friends… never again will Oliver step near that clinic.

“A wise decision, now let’s see if you keep going into the world of the wise. This cloth is the religious garb of this Church. The doctor you speak of is not really a believer, just someone who dabbles… but…” Balar then held out the cloth to Oliver.

The Giant caught a drip of the molten gold oozing from his one eye, the drip seemingly forming into a ribbon of lava, hot, liquid, and yet remaining in shape as the Giant held out the ribbon on a single finger before Oliver.

“Should you place this upon your eyes… you will remain as blind as you’ve always been, permanently. You will never be able to see more than you currently do. You will be unable to progress further into the path of seeing the truth.” Balar seemed hesitant, looking into Oliver’s eyes.

The Giant lowered its head, eye bubbling with lava as the heat radiated onto Oliver, weighing him, seeing his resolve.

“I’d… be blinding myself?” Oliver asked aloud, looking to the side, not seeing the many, many believers behind him, all ‘staring’ at him through their own cloths.

“Yes, you would. The truth is scary, and painful, it hurts so much that many cannot bear its weight… and so we bind our eyes, to shelter us from the truth as the Watcher guides us.” A pause…

“Some believers once thought that isn’t this simply placing our fates into the hands of the Watcher… in a way, this is true… but alternatively… the Watcher has seen the Truth and instead of guiding others to see it, he guides us around it, partaking in its brilliance, but never falling into its depths.” Balar once more extended the cloth.

Once more, the Giant extended the ribbon of lava, the heat searing.

“Wear these bandages, bind your eyes… and let the Lord Watcher be your eyes.” Oliver stared at the ribbon, seemingly being swayed into agreement, but halting as he stretched out his hand to look at Balar once more.

“Before I do anything… why do you only have one eye? Everyone else covers both, but you only cover one?” Oliver finally asked, leaving Balar to smirk.

The Giant smiled, a horrendous smile filled with teeth as large as Oliver’s chest and covered in red streaks, as if the blood soaked into them could never be washed away.

“Ah, it’s something of a joke really… by covering your eyes, you become willingly blind. The Lord Watcher sees all… and to commune with the Lord? One must have Eyes to do so.” Balar then raised his hands as if grasping the heavens.

The Giant raised its neck, staring through the open roof of the church into the massive orb hanging in the sky… was it a Sun, or was it the Moon?

Or was it a giant eye?

“So while the believers are blind, I can see, but I am half blind, half seeing. In the land of the blind… the one eyed man leads.” Balar let Oliver know, getting Oliver to look back to the cloth still held out to him…

Oliver, throughout his whole life, had always looked away from the things that made him angry, sad, or depressed, it was why he was always so pissed off at his kids, they were reminders that he wasn’t a free man, that everything he did was for them at this point.

Both of his kids were mistakes, he hadn’t meant to have them, especially not Stacy, he wasn’t even out of school yet when she was born…

Blinding himself… Oliver’s hand reached out.

Balar smiled.

The Giant smiled.

Oliver walked out of the Church of the Watcher blindfolded, and yet feeling as if he could truly see for the first time.

Oliver walked out of the Lair of the Giant with his eyes gone, the Watcher leading him and not letting him know of the horrors around him.

All was well.

All seemed okay… but it wasn’t.

Oliver felt great.

Oliver felt like he had lost his humanity.