Jack felt it before the trap closed.
Not danger.
Pattern.
The city was wrong tonight. Too quiet in places that should have been loud. Too loud in places that should have slept. Sirens wailed somewhere far away—but not toward anything real. The infernal core in his chest pulsed unevenly, reacting to something that wasn't demonic, wasn't human, but engineered.
Jack slowed on the rooftop, crouching low.
"Crowe," he muttered. "You're learning."
Below him, the city fractured into movement.
Three separate possession spikes flared at once—different neighborhoods, different signatures. One was sloppy, loud, feeding aggressively. Another was contained, surgical. The third…
Jack's breath caught.
That one was anchored.
Not feeding.
Waiting.
A trap.
He should've walked away.
He didn't.
THE BAIT
The house was surrounded by emergency vehicles when Jack arrived.
Too many.
Fire trucks. Ambulances. Police cruisers. Floodlights blasting white glare across a quiet suburban street. Neighbors clustered behind tape, whispering, filming, speculating.
Jack landed silently two blocks away and watched.
His eyes flared faint violet.
Inside the house, something massive stirred.
Not a possessor.
Not a crawler.
A bound demon—held in place by something artificial, compressed and forced into containment rather than manifestation.
Human hands.
Jack clenched his fists.
Crowe wasn't hunting demons anymore.
He was collecting them.
Jack moved.
THE COLLISION
The moment Jack crossed the property line, the ground dropped.
Not physically.
Conceptually.
The air thickened, pressure slamming into him from every direction. His speed advantage vanished in an instant as the space around him folded inward like wet cement.
Jack slammed to one knee.
Suppressor grid.
Not one.
Dozens.
Layered.
"Now," Crowe's voice echoed calmly through hidden speakers.
The street detonated.
Explosive charges ripped open the asphalt, throwing Jack into the air as kinetic nets snapped shut around him mid-flight. They burned cold, etched with glowing human-made sigils that screamed denial rather than faith.
Jack hit the ground hard, bones fracturing.
He tried to stand.
Failed.
His infernal core thrashed violently, purple flame flaring—then sputtering.
Crowe stepped into view.
No armor.
No fear.
Just inevitability.
"You came," Crowe said. "Good."
Jack spat blood. "You put civilians here."
Crowe nodded. "I knew you'd hesitate."
That stung more than the broken ribs.
THE CONTAINED MONSTER
The house behind Crowe screamed.
The sound wasn't audible—it slammed directly into Jack's skull. The bound demon inside the structure strained violently, its presence so compressed it warped the walls inward.
Jack felt it clearly now.
A Sin-Bound Entity.
Not sovereign.
But close.
"You trapped it," Jack rasped.
Crowe folded his arms. "We contained it. Barely."
The ground trembled.
Jack struggled against the net. "You don't know what happens if it breaks free."
Crowe met his gaze evenly. "I know exactly what happens if you don't choose."
Jack's eyes widened.
The realization hit.
Crowe had split the board.
THE SECOND SPIKE
A new signal flared.
Downtown.
Hospital.
Children's ward.
Jack's breath hitched.
Crowe didn't smile.
He didn't need to.
"One demon here," Crowe said. "One there. You don't have the reach to do both."
Jack strained, purple flame flaring brighter now—but the nets tightened, siphoning energy away faster than he could generate it.
"Let me go," Jack growled.
Crowe shook his head.
"No," he said. "Choose."
THE MOMENT
Jack's mind raced faster than his body ever could.
The hospital demon was unstable—feeding on fear, accelerating fast. If it completed manifestation, dozens would die in minutes.
The bound demon behind Crowe was worse.
If it broke containment, it wouldn't rampage.
It would anchor.
Turn the neighborhood into a hell-zone. Permanent possession. No clean extraction.
Jack looked at the house.
Then at the city skyline.
Then back at Crowe.
"You planned this," Jack said quietly.
Crowe nodded. "I told you. Humans adapt."
Jack closed his eyes.
The infernal core screamed.
Use the gold, it whispered.
There it was.
The temptation Hell hadn't offered—but Jack had earned.
He could burn the nets. Overload the grid. Reach both locations.
But doing so would fracture something permanent.
Something human.
Jack opened his eyes.
"No," he said.
Crowe stiffened. "What?"
"I choose the hospital."
The words tasted like glass.
THE SACRIFICE
Jack stopped resisting.
He redirected.
He reached inward—not for purple flame, not for speed, not for power.
He reached for the anchor.
For the part of his infernal core that tethered him to Hell.
And he cut it.
The pain was indescribable.
Jack screamed as something ancient and fundamental tore loose, ripping a section of his soul away like a cauterized limb.
The nets shattered.
Jack vanished.
THE HOSPITAL
Jack arrived already moving.
Speed burned through him uncontrollably now—erratic, unstable. He slammed through the hospital roof, landing in the corridor outside the children's ward as alarms screamed.
The demon had almost finished forming.
Jack didn't hesitate.
Purple flame erupted.
Soul Scream detonated.
The entity collapsed inward, erased before it could anchor.
Jack fell to one knee, shaking violently.
The cost hit immediately.
His vision blurred.
The infernal core felt… wrong.
Smaller.
Incomplete.
But the children were alive.
Jack staggered to his feet and disappeared before anyone could see him clearly.
THE AFTERMATH
The house collapsed.
Crowe watched as the bound demon broke containment, roaring as it surged outward—only to stall.
Something was wrong.
It didn't anchor.
It bled out.
Crowe stared.
"…What did you do?" he whispered.
Jack had severed something.
Not power.
Access.
The demon died slowly, destabilized, screaming itself apart.
Crowe exhaled.
For the first time…
Jack had beaten him.
And lost something Crowe hadn't expected.
HELL'S REACTION
The Infernal Broker screamed.
Not in anger.
In delight.
"He cut himself," it whispered to the dark. "Voluntarily."
Other presences stirred uneasily.
"That should not be possible."
The Broker smiled wider than ever.
"Oh," it said. "But it is."
JACK — BROKEN BUT STANDING
Jack collapsed in an abandoned stairwell as dawn crept in.
He pressed a hand to his chest.
The infernal core pulsed weakly.
Incomplete.
Permanent damage.
But the city still stood.
Jack laughed weakly.
"Worth it," he whispered.
Far away, Crowe watched the sunrise from a command vehicle.
"He'll do it again," Crowe said quietly. "That's how we beat him."
And deep in Hell, new offers began to form.
Sharper.
Crueler.
Perfectly tailored.