The bells of Saint Brigid's Cathedral hadn't tolled in years. The old church had been abandoned, locked away by the archdiocese after rumors of hauntings and unholy signs. Pigeons roosted in the belfry. Dust draped the pews like a funeral shroud.
But tonight, the bells rang.
Their deep toll echoed across the sleeping city, heavy and wrong, each peal shaking windows, each vibration rattling the bones of the faithful in their sleep.
Maxwell snapped awake where he lay in the church safehouse. His storm-gray eyes widened as the Codex flared violently with golden light. Anthony scrambled to the altar, his face pale with fear.
"It's a summons," he whispered. "Samael has claimed sacred ground."
Gabby's wings unfurled in a rush, her armor blazing as she rose. "He desecrates a covenant. If he bends Saint Brigid's, he will unravel the veil that shields this city."
Maxwell grabbed his sword, heart hammering. "Then let's stop him."
They moved swiftly through the streets, guided by the unnatural tolling. The cathedral loomed before them, gothic and immense, its spires black against the moon. But its stained glass no longer glowed with saints — instead, crimson light burned from within, twisting the images into grotesque parodies.
The doors hung open, groaning as if alive. A wave of corrupted energy rolled outward, heavy and choking.
Anthony lifted his crucifix, his lips moving in prayer. Sweat dripped from his brow, his voice trembling as he whispered, "This place was holy…"
Gabby stepped forward, her sword blazing. "Not anymore. But it will be again."
They entered.
The inside was unrecognizable. Statues of saints wept blood. The altar was split, black ichor oozing down its steps. Pews twisted into thorned shapes, their wood creaking as if breathing. The air reeked of sulfur and rot.
At the center stood a figure draped in shadows — not Samael himself, but one of his chosen lieutenants. The demon's skin was charred, its body wreathed in flame, its eyes like twin furnaces. It clutched a shard of crimson crystal in its claws, feeding its power into the cathedral itself.
Anthony gasped. "Another shard…"
Gabby's expression hardened. "A trial placed to mock us."
The demon's voice shook the rafters. "This sanctuary is ours. Heaven's covenant shatters tonight."
Maxwell stepped forward, sword raised. "Over my dead body."
The demon roared, and the cathedral came alive. Thorned pews snapped and writhed like serpents. Stained glass shattered outward, shards spinning through the air like knives. Shadows thickened into clawed forms that lunged from every corner.
The battle began.
Maxwell struck first, cleaving through shadowed husks with his glowing blade. Each blow sent bursts of light through the darkness, but more replaced them. He spun, parried, dodged — the whispers of the shard still coiling in his head, urging him to let go, to unleash more.
Gabby fought like a storm, her wings flaring with every strike, her sword cutting arcs of radiant fire through the corrupted pews and shadow demons. Every motion was precise, controlled — a warrior who had fought since the dawn of creation.
Anthony stood at the altar's edge, chanting exorcisms in Latin. Holy fire erupted from his crucifix, burning away the shadows. Sweat poured down his face, his body trembling, but he held firm.
The lieutenant demon leapt down from the altar, landing with a quake. Its claws burned with fire as it slashed at Maxwell. He barely blocked, the force throwing him back into a pillar. Stone cracked under the impact.
Maxwell staggered up, blood on his lip, his storm-gray eyes blazing. "You're in my church now."
He charged, sword clashing against the demon's claws in a shower of sparks. Their strikes shook the cathedral, blade against flame, light against darkness.
But the shard's whispers grew louder in Maxwell's head. Give in. Take me. End him. His blade flared, brighter than ever, but the glow had tinges of crimson now, corrupt threads twisting with the silver light.
Gabby noticed, her eyes narrowing. "Maxwell! Hold the line — not the shard!"
"I know what I'm doing!" he shouted back, though doubt gnawed at him.
The demon roared, striking harder. Maxwell parried, then thrust his blade through its chest. The creature shrieked, flames erupting outward. But instead of dying, it grasped Maxwell's blade with both hands, shoving the shard into the wound.
Maxwell screamed as power surged into him, the shard's energy pouring through the blade, into his veins. Visions slammed into him — Samael's voice, Samael's promises, his mother's face.
Gabby lunged, wings bursting with light, cutting the demon's arms clean off. It howled, collapsing into ash. The shard clattered to the ground, pulsing like a living heart.
Maxwell staggered, gripping his sword with white-knuckled hands, his chest heaving. His veins glowed faintly crimson, the whispers louder than ever.
Anthony rushed to him. "Maxwell! You must resist — it wants you!"
Maxwell's storm-gray eyes burned, flickering between silver and red. His breath came ragged, his voice hoarse. "I… I can't—"
Gabby grabbed him, her forehead pressing to his, her voice fierce and steady. "Yes, you can. You are not Samael's son. You are your mother's. You are Heaven's. You are ours."
Maxwell's chest heaved — then, with a roar that shook the cathedral, he drove his blade down and shattered the shard.
Light exploded outward. The cathedral trembled. Shadows screamed as they burned away, the thorned pews collapsing, the bleeding statues falling silent.
Silence returned, broken only by Maxwell's ragged breaths.
Gabby held him steady, her golden eyes fierce. "You are stronger than the shards. Never forget it."
Anthony collapsed to his knees, whispering prayers of gratitude, tears streaking his face.
But Maxwell's hands still trembled. He could still hear the whispers, faint but insistent.
This isn't over.
And far away, in shadows deeper than night, Samael smiled.