They collided like thunder.
Aldric's blade met Raven's flame-wreathed fist in an explosion of holy light and demonic fire. The shockwave leveled what remained of the courtyard's outer walls, sent debris raining across the cathedral grounds.
Raven pushed forward, strength beyond human limits forcing the veteran director back a step. His fractured mind calculated angles, trajectories, weaknesses with cold precision even as sanity slipped through his fingers.
"You're strong," Aldric acknowledged, blade adjusting to a defensive stance. "But strength without discipline is just violence."
He struck—three rapid slashes, each one precise, each one aimed to sever contract points. Raven dodged two, caught the third on a hastily raised Demon Flame barrier. The holy energy burned through, scored a line across his ribs.
First blood.
Raven hissed, stumbled back. Pain cut through the fractured haze of his mind. Real. Grounding.
"Focus!" Azaelith's voice. "You're stronger but he's more experienced. Don't engage directly—"
"I know what I'm doing," Raven snarled.
Did he? Hard to tell anymore. Thoughts came in fragments, strategies forming and dissolving like smoke.
But instinct—instinct was clear.
Twenty Tamers rushed him from multiple angles. Coordinated. Professional.
Raven's eyes blazed. Charm activated.
Not consciously. Not planned. Just pure will imposing itself on weaker minds.
Five Tamers froze mid-charge. Their spirits turned against their squadmates.
"He's controlling them! Break the—"
Too late.
Guardian spirits clashed with their own allies. Chaos erupted in the Tamer ranks. Friendly fire. Confusion. Fear rippling through disciplined lines.
But Raven's control was imperfect. The connections strained. One Tamer broke free after three seconds. Another after five.
And the effort—
It drained him. Stamina bleeding away with each controlled mind.
Aldric used the opening. His spirit materialized behind Raven—impossible speed—blade descending toward the contract marking.
Raven Demon Stepped. Barely. Reappeared ten meters away, gasping.
Blood ran from his nose. His ears. The transformation was complete but his body wasn't adjusted. Power without control. Strength without foundation.
He was going to lose.
Then the sky screamed.
The Gate erupted. Not opening wider—exploding outward. The Horror returned with absolute fury.
It didn't emerge slowly. Didn't test the barrier. Just forced itself through with rage that transcended mere instinct.
The wound Aldric had inflicted—still visible, still bleeding reality—had driven it to something beyond hunger.
To wrath.
Every tentacle lashed out simultaneously. The massive eye focused on Aldric with singular purpose.
Vengeance.
The director barely raised his blade before the assault hit. Five tentacles converging from impossible angles. He met them—holy light blazing—but the force drove him to his knees.
"Director!" Kirana screamed.
The remaining Tamers rallied. Spirits summoned en masse. Holy barriers erected. Coordinated strikes launched with desperate precision.
But the Horror had learned.
Psychic assault broadcast at full strength. Not subtle corruption—pure mental annihilation. Twenty Tamers collapsed instantly, brains hemorrhaging from incomprehensible visions.
Casualty count: 70.
The spawn-horrors poured from tentacles by the hundreds. Skittering things with too many mouths, reality-breaking touch, mindless hunger.
Some rushed toward the Tamers.
Others—
Scattered into the city.
Through the broken barriers. Into the streets beyond. Where civilians still fled, where evacuation was incomplete.
Screams echoed. Distant. Growing.
Raven watched it all with fractured clarity. Saw the world ending. Saw his role in it.
Felt nothing.
Just cold calculation.
Survive. That's all that matters.
He turned to run—
Aldric's voice stopped him.
"Hybrid."
The old man stood, blood streaming from a dozen wounds, spirit barely maintaining form. But his eyes—gray and hard as iron—locked onto Raven.
"You want to run? Fine. But that thing—" he gestured at the Horror, "—will hunt you. Will hunt everyone. Until it's consumed this entire dimension."
"Not my problem."
"It is if you want to survive."
Raven paused. Hated that the logic made sense.
"What are you proposing?"
Aldric smiled. Grim. "I banish it. You close the Gate. We both probably die. But the world continues."
"Why would I—"
"Because you're not completely gone yet." Aldric's gaze softened. Just slightly. "I can see it. The human part. Still fighting. Still there."
"Don't listen to him," Azaelith urged. "We can escape. Survive. That's what matters—"
But Raven was listening.
Listening to the screams from the city. The dying Tamers. The spawn-horrors multiplying.
Listening to the last fragment of the person he'd been before all this.
"How do we do it?" he asked quietly.
Aldric's ultimate technique required sacrifice.
Not metaphorical. Literal. His life force channeled through the contract, converted to pure holy energy, weaponized against existence itself.
"I perform the banishment," he explained rapidly. "You close the Gate the moment it's through. The ritual structure is still active—your blood sealed the thirteenth anchor. Destroy that seal, the structure collapses, Gate closes."
"What's the cost?"
"For me? Death. My spirit will burn out completely." He met Raven's eyes. "For you? Probably the same. The backlash from collapsing an active ritual while standing at ground zero..."
He didn't finish. Didn't need to.
Raven looked at his hands. At the black-red aura still pulsing around them. At what he'd become.
"Raven, no," Azaelith manifested beside him, solid and desperate. "We can survive this. We can run. I'll protect you—"
"Why?" he asked her. "Why do you care so much?"
She stopped. Stared at him.
"Because I see myself in you. Before I became this. And I don't want you to make my mistakes."
"I don't want you to lose yourself for revenge that will never satisfy."
Tears—actual tears—formed in her red eyes.
"I don't want you to be alone for five hundred years like I was."
Raven touched her face. His hand passed through—she wasn't truly physical—but the gesture remained.
"Then help me do this right," he said softly. "One last act that actually means something."
Aldric began the chant.
His spirit blazed white-gold, brighter than the sun. Contract seal across his chest burning through his clothing, through his skin, into his very soul.
The Horror sensed the threat. Turned from massacring Tamers. Focused entirely on Aldric.
Tentacles converged. The massive eye pulsed. Psychic assault concentrated to a laser point.
Kirana threw herself in the way. Her Guardian Spirit intercepted one tentacle. "GO! Finish it!"
She died.
Not erased. Not un-became. Just killed. Crushed by the Horror's follow-up strike.
But she bought three seconds.
Aldric's chant reached crescendo.
"BY MY LIFE, BY MY SPIRIT, BY THE COVENANT ETERNAL—"
His body began to disintegrate. Not wounded. Not killed. Transformed into pure energy.
"I SEAL YOU BEYOND THE VEIL!"
The blade grew. Became a pillar of light that pierced the sky. Became something more than physical—a concept given form. The very idea of banishment made manifest.
He thrust it into the Horror's central mass.
And reality inverted.
The Horror shrieked. That sound that shattered minds. But it was being pulled—dragged back through the Gate despite every tentacle clinging to this dimension.
Aldric pushed harder. His body now completely energy. Fading. Burning.
"NOW!" he roared at Raven. "CLOSE IT!"
Raven ran.
Toward the ritual circle's center. Toward the thirteenth pedestal where his blood still burned.
Spawn-horrors lunged at him. He burned through them with Demon Flame. Tentacles swept his path. He Demon Stepped through gaps.
Pain. Exhaustion. Wounds bleeding.
Didn't matter.
He reached the pedestal.
Saw the blood seal. His blood. His connection.
To destroy it would sever the anchor. Would collapse the ritual. Would probably kill him.
"I'm sorry," Azaelith whispered. "I'm so sorry I brought you into this."
"Don't be." Raven smiled. Broken. Real. "For the first time since forever... I felt something. Even if it was just pain."
"Even if it destroyed me."
He raised his hand. Demon Flame ignited—hotter than ever before. All his remaining power channeled into one strike.
"Goodbye, Raven Altair," Azaelith said. "You were better than you believed."
"Maybe."
He brought his hand down.
The seal shattered.
The ritual collapsed.
The Gate—
SLAMMED SHUT.
The backlash was catastrophic. Energy exploded outward. The Horror—halfway through, still clinging—was severed. Half remained in this dimension.
Half was sealed beyond.
Both parts screamed. Thrashed. Then disintegrated.
Banished. Completely. Permanently.
The explosion caught Raven. Lifted him. Threw him across the courtyard like a ragdoll.
He hit stone. Felt ribs crack. Felt consciousness slipping.
But through the haze—
He saw Aldric. Or what remained. A fading silhouette of light. Smiling.
"Well done, hybrid," the old man's voice echoed. "Maybe there's hope for you yet."
Then he was gone. Spirit and man both. Burned away completely.
Director Aldric Cross: Deceased.
Raven lay broken on the stone. Couldn't move. Could barely breathe.
But alive.
Somehow. Against all probability.
Alive.
"Raven."
Azaelith's voice. Urgent.
"Tamers are regrouping. Thirty survivors. They'll come for you. We need to leave. Now."
He tried to stand. Collapsed.
"I'll help."
Her manifestation became more than visual. Became almost solid. Enough to support his weight as he stumbled upright.
Together they moved. Away from the courtyard. Through the ruined cathedral. Into the night beyond.
Behind them—chaos.
The spawn-horrors that had escaped into the city. Dozens of them. Spreading across districts. Attacking civilians.
The Tamers would have their hands full for days. Weeks.
Which meant—
They wouldn't prioritize hunting one hybrid.
Not immediately.
Raven and Azaelith disappeared into the shadows. Two broken beings holding each other up.
[Three Days Later - Abandoned Subway Tunnel]
Raven woke to darkness and pain.
His ribs were healing. Slowly. The transformation had left him with enhanced recovery, but the backlash damage was severe.
Azaelith sat beside him. Manifested solid. Watching.
"You're awake," she said softly.
"Unfortunately."
Silence.
Then: "The news. It's everywhere. They can't hide it anymore."
Raven looked at the stolen phone she'd acquired. News headlines scrolled past:
SUPERNATURAL THREAT CONFIRMED - GOVERNMENT ADMITS TO SPIRIT TAMER ORGANIZATION
CATHEDRAL DISTRICT DESTROYED - HUNDREDS DEAD
CREATURES LOOSE IN CITY - MARTIAL LAW DECLARED
HYBRID TERRORIST WANTED - REWARD POSTED
His face. His name. Raven Altair. Demon contractor. Mass murderer.
Enemy of humanity.
"They're hunting you," Azaelith said. "Full manhunt. Every Tamer. Every law enforcement agency. Bounty high enough that civilians will report sightings."
"Great."
"So what do we do?"
Raven stood. Slowly. Painfully. But standing.
"We survive. Like always."
He looked at his hands. Still marked. Still powerful. Still monstrous.
"They made me into this. Into a weapon. A monster. Something to fear."
His red eyes blazed in the darkness.
"Fine. I'll be what they made me. I'll survive. I'll grow stronger. And maybe—"
He smiled. That broken smile.
"—maybe I'll make them regret it."
Azaelith stood beside him. Partner. Accomplice. The demon who'd damned and saved him in equal measure.
"Then let's begin."
Together they walked deeper into the tunnels. Into the dark.
Two monsters fleeing a world that feared them.
A world that would hunt them.
A world they'd broken.
And somewhere above—in the ruined city, in the chaos they'd caused—lesser spirits roamed free.
The age of ignorance was over.
The supernatural was real.
And Raven Altair—hybrid, demon contractor, survivor—was at the center of it all.
[Spirit Tamer Organization Headquarters]
The emergency council convened in the war room. What remained of the leadership. What survived.
Acting Director Vanessa Thorne stood at the head of the table. Promoted from Senior Investigator. Kirana's former superior.
"Assessment," she said coldly.
"Seventy Tamers dead. Director Cross deceased. Cathedral district 40% destroyed. Thirty-seven lesser spirits confirmed loose in the city. Civilian casualties estimated at two hundred. Public exposure complete—can't suppress anymore."
"And the hybrid?"
"Escaped. No sightings in three days. Assumed to have gone underground."
Vanessa's jaw clenched. "Priority targets?"
"Raven Altair. Azaelith. Any remaining Lucifur cultists. The loose spirits. In that order."
"Deploy all available teams. Full authorization for lethal force. No capture attempts. We end this."
"And the public? They're demanding answers. Demanding protection—"
"Give them both. Confirm supernatural threats. Announce Tamer Organization's expanded authority. Mandatory registration for any contracts. Shoot-on-sight orders for illegal contractors."
She looked around the table. At the survivors. The terrified. The angry.
"We failed to prevent this. But we'll damn well contain it."
"Find Raven Altair. And kill him."