Hiiiiiiii!
Will thou be my Valentine???
HALF GOD, HALF DEEEVILLLLLLLLL. You should 1000000% listen to the attached song repeatedly during this chapter. I listened to it writing the entire thing. LMAO. It's so #FADE
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Love,
Kat
The lights were on in the mausoleum and it became clear that this place was used for other purposes for quite some time. Condom wrappers, crack pipes, and other paraphernalia littered the ground. In-between that garbage, rot and decay filled the cracks of once elaborate tiles. Graffiti and symbols arched wildly across the marble walls like scars of pandemonium.
Mausoleums were notorious for their meticulously clean appearance. The fact that this place was so ruined felt wrong on an astronomical level. I imagined the thousands of bodies crammed like sardines throughout this castle-like structure and became furious that this was what had become of the dead's sanctuary.
I kicked something on the ground, and it shattered against the wall. "At least these losers who destroyed this mausoleum are wearing protection, so they won't procreate."
Death's laugh came out in a short grunt, and I couldn't help but think he was mocking me. Aw, does the big bad Death think he's too good for condoms? I glanced up at him narrowed eyes aimed at the assumed sexually irresponsible Angel of Pull Out. He gave me a 'WTF are you looking at?' face, before touching my back and guided me to walk in front of him.
"Walk ahead of me," he said.
Now I was sandwiched between Death and Malphas, Malphas having put distance between us and walking in front of me a good ten feet. Nothing says uncomfortable quite like an estranged demi-god father and his hybrid supernatural son coming together impromptu.
"So," I began, in an attempt to break the incredibly uncomfortable and undeniably awkward silence between the three of us. "This probably isn't the time, but I've always wondered... Do you guys ever, like, pee?"
Neither of them responded. Rude!
"Because I haven't seen a single immortal drink a whole glass of water," I continued. "Seriously, not one. Dehydration is a silent killer."
Behind me, Death slowly inhaled and exhaled through his nose, as if he wanted to duct tape my mouth shut and bind my hands together, before tossing me helplessly into an ocean. Either that, or he'd gotten bored with being undead and desired to take a random mortal-like breath.
I shuffled a little faster to catch up to Malphas.
"Hey," I said with a head nod, but he didn't acknowledge me. "Does it ever get weird that you could pass for your son's older brother?"
His lifeless black eyes glanced over at me, and his eyebrows dipped inward in puzzlement.
"Faith," Death growled in warning from behind us.
"We don't need water to nourish our bodies," Malphas said, answering my previous question. "But if we do, for whatever reason, consume water or mortal food, then yes, we'd have to use the bathroom afterward."
"Interesting," I said, tapping my chin. "Very interesting... Even number two?"
Death hooked a finger into the back pocket of my pants and yanked me back to walk next to him again. Cut it out, he mouthed, his eyes beseeching me to stop.
Malphas held up a hand, and stop we did.
"At least seven," Death said, as if answering a question Malphas hadn't asked.
Malphas turned his head over his shoulder and nodded to Death.
Death stalked forward as if he were a killer summoned and shifted into predator mode. He slid two swords out from sheaths at his back, his powerful muscles tensed as he slinked past Malphas and glided into the shadows. He pressed up against the wall besides an archway, his brilliant mismatched green eyes the only indication that he was there, before he closed them, and blended perfectly against the dark like an assassin in the night.
Two vampires rounded the hallway, rowdily arguing about something involving an 'Edward' and 'Jacob.'
By the time they spotted Malphas and I, Death's skilled hands were already twisting each blade around his fingers in a mirrored motion, his arms coming down fast and hard to flawlessly severed each vampire by the neck.
Another vampire launched out from behind him, when Death spun his one blade backwards in his palm and brought his arm upwards, stabbing the vampire through the throat. Death turned toward the creature and ripped the blade through the rest of the tendons of the newborn's neck, its head dropping amongst the growing pile.
"Adequate," Malphas commented.
Death tilted his head, his lip lifting in a snarl. "Adequate?"
Shadows collected from the darkest corners of the room, crawling toward Death like creatures on all fours as the white and green of his eyes consumed with a villain black. Darkness curled up his frame and formed an aura around his frame.
Death dropped his swords and pivoted, sprinting toward the entryway and launching himself at four more vampires that had just reached the scene. His talons lashed out, slicing through an enemy's torso. When his fist drove through the chest of another, he walked forward with the vampire in his clutches and stalked somewhere out of our view. Screams were heard. Some sort of chunk of flesh or an organ flew across the archway and smacked a vampire right in the face.
The two leftover vampires came sprinting through the archway toward Malphas and I, as if they were running away from the massive T-Rex in Jurassic Park. They were mangled, covered in blood, grabbing at injured body parts. Death gripped the archway from behind them and swung back into the hallway, landing on both of the vampires before they could reach us with his fangs bared. He crushed the back of their skulls into the ground with his bare hands.
When Death collected his fallen swords and rose to his full height, he flipped a strand of curly wavy black hair from his forehead that had escaped and stared icily at his father. Malphas "hmm'd" and strolled past his son without a word.
Once his father was out of sight, Death waggled his eyebrows at me, communicating the successful vanquishing of Malphas' criticism.
Shaking my head in distain, I stepped over a detached head. "Can't you at least try and act like you didn't tremendously enjoy that murdering spree?"
Moments later, Death and I reunited with Malphas, as the passageway opened up to a wider space with high ceilings. My eyes widened as I took in our surroundings. Shapes like pentagrams and hexagrams with symbols and languages I didn't understand covered almost every surface. The air was thicker in here, electric, in a way that made the hairs on my arms stand on end. Like rubbing a balloon vigorously against your skin and creating static, except the source of this static was undefined. It was an eerie sensation that clung to me from all directions, like the walls had eyes.
"This room is giving me the heebie jeebies," I said, pulling at the collar of my jacket as my anxiety spiked. "Is it hard to breathe, or is it just me?"
"Just you, chicken," Death said with a slight, devious grin.
"She must sense the remnants of magic," Malphas said, deep in thought as he surveyed the room. He paused and lowered to the ground, his hand hovering just beyond the intricate lines of the pentagram in front of him. His pale fingers tensed, the blackness along his fingertips crawling down the back of his hands. Smoke levitated from the lines engraved into the marble floor, and when Malphas turned over his shoulder, black branches webbing from his eyes and extending across his pale features like veins. "This one is recent."
"What is it?" I asked, coming to stand by the pentagram.
"The Seal of Solomon," Death answered from beside me. "Someone has been very busy summoning and enslaving demons." He sounded unruffled in a way that insinuated he was anything but. Moving away from the seal, Death began circling the room, methodically examining each and every marking on the ground. "Not just any demons, too. High energy demons."
Malphas stretched his neck as rose to his feet, firing a wrathful look at Death. "You said Ahrimad was weakened."
"Because he is," Death bit out. "He's not fully corporeal, unlike you or I."
Death and Malphas exchanged a lengthy look, as if they were silently communicating something. And that something didn't seem good and dandy by any means. My pulse picked up a notch.
"Can someone explain to me what's going on?" I pressed. "High energy demons sounds a little bit more daunting than beating up a few bigheaded vampire newborns."
Malphas' attention remained honed in on Death. "There are fifteen different pentagrams on the floor. We've only entered one room. Corporeal or not, he is anything but weak. Consider the graveyard a smokescreen because it was. We'll need more men."
"I'm not leaving here without Ace," I jumped in. "And Death needs his scythe back as soon as possible, or else––"
"Faith," Death said, his jaw ticking. His mismatched green eyes flashed in warning, and I realized just how little he had divulged to Malphas about this situation. "We're here already. There is no turning back."
When Death started to stalk away toward another doorway, when Malphas vanished in a blur and blocked his path. "The vast knowledge and reach of Ahrimad's power are unfathomable. Him weakened was a different story. I can see now we are hardly prepared for what forebodes in this room alone."
"I know that," Death snarled. "He's the first and only pureblood of his kind."
"Which would make him a Prime," Malphas continued, becoming aggravated, as if he thought Death wasn't grasping what he was saying. "A fully charged Prime of his species." Malphas suddenly gazed at me, as if he realized I had the answer he was looking for, before switching his attention back at Death. "I knew when you came to me that you were desperate beyond belief, but this is worse than I imagined. You're weak. Weaker than you've ever been. Your control over your other half is dwindling, and tonight is your last opportunity to get back to your full power."
"Get out of her head," Death grated out.
Malphas laughed. "I'm not in her head. I can sense this in other ways. You're my son."
"Hardly." The way Death's whole body trembled afterward sent me on edge, and I realized the air had thickened with that electrical charge already present when we entered it.
"Guys..." I trailed off, looking around the room. "Did you feel that?"
Thunder crashed above us, the stained-glass ceiling flashing with light. The sigil beneath Malphas and Death glowed red, plumes of red spiraling in the air around them. Both of their heads snapped back, their eyes matching the inflamed bloodlust color of the sigil.
"Ohhhhh shit," I said, holding my palms up to protect my face from the heat of the sigil as it burst outward with a hiss. "Ohshitshitshitshit!"
"None of this would have fucking happened if you hadn't cast my soul to Limbo!" Death suddenly exploded.
"I wanted you to feel what I felt," Malphas hissed, his control slipping away as fast as Death's. "My own son, casting me away to the Underworld!"
This was bad. This was really, really bad. As their anger rose, wind hurled around the space around. I gripped onto a marble structure, my mind frantically raced to find a way to free them from whatever spell they were under.
"We just can't get a break!" I panted out, my gloves nearly losing the grip on the marble structure.
"If you weren't so hellbent on defying me as a child," Malphas continued to roar in a fiery rage, "with your obsession of befriending the very mortals that ostracize our kind, you would have never become tangled in Ahrimad's web to begin with! How many times did I tell you not to go into those woods alone? How many times!"
"I went into those woods in the first place to get away from you!" Death thundered, and the sigil flickered angrily around the edges. "So I could cling to the sliver of normalcy that you left for me as a child! The only thing that kept me alive after what you did to my family was the immortality Ahrimad gave me."
Malphas flinched at this, the red glow to his eyes illuminating stronger as if it were fueled by his emotion. "You have no idea the sacrifices I made for you, Alex. For four-hundred years, I was trapped in solitude in the Underworld, while you paraded around with Lucifer, acting like a celebrity amongst the mortals. Where is that Devil now, I wonder? At least I show up."
Death's expression morphed into pure venom. "You should have stayed dead."
The two charged at each other, the sigil walls distorting their forms into shadows as the flames rose higher and surged outward again.
"Damnit!" I shouted, reeling back before the flames burned me.
They would fight to the death like this, if I snap them out of it. And something told me my own power would have absorb into this sigil like a sponge, but I had to try to put out this fiery blaze of magic. Crawling on the ground, I found a fallen vase amongst the rubble on the floor. I wrapped a fist around the base and managed to climb up to my feet, the wind hurling around me slowing enough for an opening for me leap to my feet and chuck the vase it at the sigil. Energy surged from my hand to the vase as it pitched from my palm, forming a grenade of sorts. The vase shattered into a million pieces on impact and exploded against the sigil. I had to shield my eyes as a roar of energy ricocheted back at me again, slamming me into the wall.
I blinked away black splotches, the storm calming before me. Malphas came into horrific focus at the center of the sigil. He stood in a wide stance, his black eyes wide and edging crazed, his face sporting three brutal talon marks sliced across half of his pale features. Black oil-like blood dripped down his neck, his features tight and otherworldly.
Death was nowhere to be seen.
"Where is he?" I demanded, panic laced in my voice.
Malphas coal black eyes darted around the room in confusion, as if he'd just woken up from a dream, and he had no idea where he was. "Fuck!" He crossed the sigil in a quick stride and dragged his dress shoe across the marking, smearing the lines as he lifted his hand out in front of him and commanded, "Revelare!"
My eyes widened at the sight of a woman––a feminine creature with bat like wings, who appeared from nothing between Malphas and I. White hair framed a small feminine face half-covered by a silky scarf, drawing attention to her lustful gaze. Her body was pale and ballerina-like, and almost completely nude besides a few pieces of golden cloth over her private parts. And, well, the enormous pink sword strapped to her hip.
"Oh, okay," I said, uncomfortable by her lack of clothing. "Hello?"
"Don't talk to it," Malphas hissed, his livid gaze unwavering against the demon's.
"Good-bye," I said quickly.
"Good-bye, blue-eyed bimbo," the creature hissed back at me in a thick accent, sounding as if it had just learned the English phrase.
Before she could catch these hands, Malphas slinked toward me in my peripheral and stopped me by grabbing onto my hood and yanking me back. "Give me your sword," he demanded.
I wrenched my hood out of his grasp, touching the hilt of my blade protectively. The weapon I realized I hadn't reached for once that night. "Why? So you can make me disappear too? Where the fuck is Death, Houdini?"
"Know when to shoot first and ask questions later," Malphas seethed, his gaze honed in on the creature, who was cocking its head at our conversation as if were speaking gibberish. "This is a high level empath demon," Malphas continued tentatively, when it appeared the demon wasn't making any move to attack us yet. "Death and I were fevered by her power. He must have sifted elsewhere in the mausoleum. I assume he is taking longer to shake off the empath's power because he's weakened. He could be delusional. More the reason to give me your sword––"
The beautiful woman-creature thing abruptly lunged forward and hissed out a language that sounded quite rude, like she was cursing us out. The fabric over half her face shuffled around oddly as she screamed, and I started to get the sick feeling in my stomach the scarf was hiding something I did not want to see.
"I see what you mean about shooting first," I mumbled.
Another she-demon jumped down from the ceiling and crawled down the side of the room like a spider, their long fingers anchoring into the marble like it were made of paper mache. Malphas grabbed the back of my hood again and yanked me behind him as the she-demon flipped upright onto the floor beside us, bloodred eyes flickering like red flame. She appeared more confident than the first she-demon, the leader. She wore a matching outfit to the other, except hers was gold.
"Malphas," the golden she-demon drawled, her accent matching the other more deranged looking demon. "Magna Praeses Inferos. Do my eyes deceive me?"
"Salve, Layla," Malphas responded, appearing a little uneased. Something that was very rare for him to display. "I should have known this was your doing. Your empath fever is unlike any other."
"Oh, Malphas, your flattery is unlike any other. But what is it a female mortal would say after getting to truly know you?" She tapped her chin with a long golden nail. "'Immortal men ain't shit?'"
"Yikes," I said. "Ex-girlfriend?"
"Silence, you frumpy turd," Layla snarled at me, her voice vibrating the magic in the air in a way that suddenly made me sick to my stomach. "Stupid blue-eyed bimbo!"
The nameless she-demon with the cloth over her mouth cackled with ugly laughter.
"Frumpy...turd?" I fisted my hands, heat centering my palm. But Malphas stood guardedly half in front of me, which communicated now was not the time to release my controlled chaos. I had no idea what these creatures were capable of.
The empath demon Leyla strut closer to Malphas, her hips rocking side to side seductively as she walked. The fabric over her groin barely covering what it was supposed to, if it was even supposed to.
"The last time I saw your handsome face, you were trapped in the Underworld," she purred, stopping a good five feet in front of him. "Powerless. So much sadness behind that cold, stoic face. Oh, how I could feel your pain in the Underworld. It was so much louder than the rest of us trapped souls. And then one day, I couldn't feel you at all. Everyone wondered if you were summoned to earth, or if you escaped. Word traveled fast. How you walked the earthly realm without a summoner. Why would you, out of all the rest in the Underworld, no longer be forced to be enslaved to a summoner?"
"I'm a walking enigma," Malphas jested, clearly wanting to tap out of this conversation.
Layla's grin was wide and fang-less, but still unsettling. "Needless to say, I am enslaved to the master in which you came to kill tonight. He ordered me to destroy whomever crosses into this room. It's nothing personal." She put her hands on her narrow waist. "How about, I promise to make your demise as painless as possible, for an old friend..." That wide grin of hers fell. "If, you tell me what you offered Hades."
"As much as I appreciate such a kind offer,"––one of Malphas' hands, which was clasped with the other behind his back, reached blindly behind him and gripped the hilt of my sword at my hip––"I'm going to have to decline. And, as the mortals say, 'Go fuck yourself.'"
"How dare you speak to my sister in such a manner!" the nameless empath-demon in fury. She sprang forward with her blade drawn. In one fluid and rapid motion, Malphas' nails ripped my sword and the holster straight from my belt. The sword turned over in his hand in a whirl of motion, before his other hand joined on the hilt. His whole body moved with the violent action as he evaded the empath's attack and arced the blade upwards, slicing through the throat of empath demon. Another swift movement of his hands, and her head severed clean, smacking against the ground with a wet thud, the decapitated corpse following pursuit in a bloodbath at our feet.
"Sister!" Layla screamed at the top of her lungs. But the crippling grief of her face was short lived, traded for rage and sure vengeance, as her hands spread out and a barrier with added red swirling matter. She chanted fast, "Sacrificiaque propulsari Platonici soror oriri ex inferno inferiori! Sacrificiaque propulsari Platonici soror oriri ex inferno inferiori!"
My vision swam as the air thickened with magic. Multiple sigils on the floor glowed red. Air heaved like a mighty hurricane as it did before, and I planted my feet wide to stay balanced. "Not this shit again! Can't we ever catch a break?"
"She's cocooned herself in magic to summon the rest of her sisters," Malphas said, his voice hardly rose his voice as it easily carried over the looming chaos around us. He tilted his head down to me. "It will take her time. Minutes, most likely. Find Death. Make sure he isn't still fevered."
His confidence in me fighting for myself was surprising. Despite his rather calm exterior, I couldn't help but feel like I was leaving Malphas to die. I also couldn't help but think that he had a greater part in all of this, too. Like he was keeping something from Death of importance, something that was far more than a few centuries old. Which kept that surprising amount of confliction within me. If I were to never see Malphas again, I wanted to know if the gut feeling within me held any truth at all.
"Is it true?" I asked, as if I'd already asked him my thoughts out loud. I needed to know if he killed Phoebe Cruscellio and trapped her soul in my pendant. "Did you kill his mother?"
The darkness in Malphas' eyes, swirling like vortexing blackness, seemed to settle, like sand saying to rest at the bottom of a river. In a heart stopping moment, he handed me back my bloody sword. "I have done unspeakable things in this world that have left me entrenched in sin, but my greatest offence is my most painful secret. A secret, which I will take to the grave. You must discover these answers on your own."
My breath caught in my throat. Malphas had answered exactly as had in the projection with the willow tree, verbatim. Like a broken record. I was struck by the eerie possibility that he couldn't answer my question.
The Raven Demon stepped away from me and became a blurred figure amongst a whirlwind of red mist. Layla the she-demon released a shrill scream from her magical freaky butterfly cocoon and the marble around us trembled with horrific noises of collapsing foundation. Like it as crumbling and staying together at the same time. Still, a few pieces from the ceiling came loose and hit the ground in an explosion of debris. I leapt back before one could land on me, my feet backpedaling, before I pivoted and committed to my escape from the sigil room, sprinting down another hallway. When I looked over my shoulder, the archway behind me became blocked off by debris and I feared the whole room had buckled in on itself with Malphas in it.
I turned and kicked off into a run, running as fast as my feet would take me, running until my lungs gave out and I stopped, bracing my hands on my knees, tears blurred my vision. I inhaled an unfulfilling breath, wiping my eyes hard with my sleeve. It was time to find Death. When I turned another corner, I crashed into somebody, and Master Vampire Dunkin slammed into sharp focus.
He held some sort of weapon, the flash of Ace's cane in his fist, as he punched it hard into my gut. It knocked the wind right out of me, the momentum sending me flying backwards. My body slapped against the marble floor, my sword clattering out of my hand.
"Ello, Faith," Dunkin said cheerfully. "Fancy us casually walking into each other, on this fine night of war." He studied my face, his grin widening. "Are those...tears of joy?"
Adrenaline fired as Dunkin kept coming at me. I struggled to catch my breath as I clutched my stomach and crawled backward. His hand fisted me around the throat, faster than the newborns in the graveyard, faster than even Death had moved around me, and picked me straight up off the ground. With no ability to cry out, Dunkin slammed me against the wall. I pictured all of his newborns of his we'd destroyed as his nails dug into my throat. I tried to writhe out of his grasp, the sensation of my own blood dripping down my neckline.
"I see you managed to get past the summoning room," he breathed into my face, and I thought my heart might give out from terror as oxygen continued to be cut off to my brain. Ahrimad wanted you alive, but oh, do I really not give a fuck what that old bag of bones wants anymore. I'd rather dump your dismantled body right front of the Prince of Darkness––"
"GLACIO!"
Dunkin's whole body tensed, a strangled gasp escaping his mouth. Realizing he was immobilized, I quickly pried his hands off of me and ripped free. Dunkin was locked in a ridged position, his silvery eyes wide with shock and tendrils of color surrounding his body like an aura. The only parts of him he seemed to be able to move were his facial muscles, which quickly constricted from shock to rage.
"Warlock," Dunkin hissed.
I lifted my gaze down the hallway and my heart plunged at the sight of Ace. He stood with his free hand outstretched toward Master Vampire Dunkin. The elegant, Victorian-styled outfit he'd been wearing earlier, at his library, was torn in many places, exposing various bite marks and cuts all over his body. His once beautiful colorful shoulder-length hair had been buzzed down to the white roots, and blood, vivid red against his pallid skin, dripped down his forehead from an open gash.
"Ace!" I maneuvered around Dunkin and I raced toward the warlock, hugging him around his waist. He winced a little and didn't hug me back, his focus honed in on the vampire.
"Look at you, you crippled fuck," Dunkin laughed out, blood seeping out the corners of his mouth as he remained unable to move. "My newborns really did you in. And your poor little pixie pet. I heard she was ripped apart in seconds."
My heart plunged. Trixie was dead.
Dread washed over me as a snarl-like smile etched into Ace's mouth. His face trembled with rage, his violet irises neon with power and crackling with electricity.
"Kill me now, and your pledge of passivity is over," Dunkin said, grinning even wider. "You'll no longer be a neutral force. The title you've worked centuries for––"
Ace crushed his hand into a fist, and the indent of his fingers engraved Dunkin's neck, like he was choking him. "Morior!"
Dunkin released a horrific scream. Veins swelled in his face and a cringeworthy wheeze emptied his lungs as blood vessels exploded beneath his skin. His eyes bulged out of his head. Ace turned my head into his chest, the popping sound of Dunkin's eyes exploding making an involuntary noise of shock escape my mouth. Still, I peered back, I had to. Dunkin's skin melted off his body like wax sliding down a burning candle. His corpse collapsed in a pile of sludge and bones.
I looked up at Ace in quiet horror, having seen plenty of gruesome deaths that night, but this one taking the cake. He didn't look proud of what he didn't, but he didn't look regretful, either. Then he didn't look much of anything, actually, his lively energy drained completely and leaving behind a shell of the friend I knew. Trixie was dead. I didn't now what to say.
Ace limped to the pile of gore on the floor. He picked up his cane, inspecting the crystal, as if to see if there were any cracks, before pressing the end into the floor and leaning against it. "The vampires that were keeping me captive... They said there was a war in the graveyard. Where's Death?"
"We were supposed to meet the Reapers and Death's Fallen from a different part of the mausoleum. I entered with Death and Malphas, but then Death was split up, and I was with Malphas––"
Ace's full attention snapped to me. "Malphas? Malphas Cruscellio?"
"Do you know anybody else on the planet with that name?" I joked
Ace looked at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. He started walking down the hallway. "We should go."
"What's wrong?" I questioned, catching up to him. "Is there something I should know about Malphas?"
"No, I––I'm just surprised is all. Given their past."
"I think everyone was surprised, honestly. You know, I just can't shake this feeling. I think Malphas has a bigger part in all of this––"
"Wait," Ace said tightly, seizing my arm. "Tell me you didn't give Malphas the Book of the Dead."
My attention clung to Ace's fingers around my wrist. He'd only touched a sliver of my skin, and cold speared through me like frost bite. My heart rocketed into overdrive, as if my heart understood something was terribly wrong before I did.
I wrenched my arm free and stepped back, the innate sense to run a whisper at my ear. "What did you do to Ace?"
Ace's expression remained locked in puzzlement a moment longer, before his entire affect changed. I reach fast for my fallen sword on the ground, when it slid down the hallway as if kicked by an invisible force.
"You're power has grown," the imposture noted, taking a confident step toward me as I took another backward. Ace's gaze drifted over my outfit, clinging to the torn part of my holster, and then resting on the miniature Book of the Dead. His head cocked and he smiled a little, before those violet eyes flicked back up to mine. "It's a shame, really. The warlock would have come in handy tonight, if he'd only cooperated. Put up a good fight, though, I'll give him that. But after he watched the consequence of refusing me; his lover brutally torn apart, well..." His smirk widened, bringing chills down my spine. "It would have made just about anybody my bitch."
I could hear the tremor in my voice as I whispered, "Ahrimad."
"I'm thrilled you made it through the graveyard and the sigil room alive, Faith. You're just in time for my grand finale." His hand rose casually, his violet eyes instantly consumed by a vicious magic. "Somnus."
The command shot out like gunfire, a gust of magic blasting outwards from Ace and knocking me from consciousness.
* * *
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