The basement of the cathedral was a nightmare of corrupted religious imagery. What had once been a simple crypt had been transformed into something that hurt to look at directly—symbols carved into stone that seemed to writhe when observed, candles that burned with colors that shouldn't exist, and at the center of it all, a ritual circle that made reality itself seem unstable.
Sarah was bound to an altar in the circle's heart, unconscious but breathing. Around her, five figures in dark robes chanted in a language that predated human speech.
"There are more than six," Dario whispered as they crouched behind a stone pillar.
"I count nine," Marcus replied. "Plus Alex—Lucian—overseeing the ritual."
The being wearing Alex's face stood at the ritual circle's edge, arms raised as he conducted the supernatural symphony. Dark energy flowed between the chanters and the altar, building toward some terrible crescendo.
"They're preparing to begin the extraction," Marcus realized. "If they complete this ritual..."
"How long do we have?"
"Minutes, maybe less."
Above them, they could hear the sounds of battle as their allies engaged the other corrupted gods. Flashes of divine light filtered down through the cathedral's windows, accompanied by thunderous crashes that shook the building's foundations.
"Now or never," Dario said.
They burst from hiding, divine power flowing through them as Cassius and Aurelius took partial control. Dario felt reality bend around him as he moved, shadows reaching out to grab the nearest chanter and drag them into nonexistence.
Marcus blazed with golden light, his justice made manifest as burning chains that wrapped around two more ritual participants. But the others barely paused in their chanting.
"You're too late," Lucian called out, his voice carrying impossible harmonics. "The convergence has already begun."
The ritual circle pulsed, and Sarah's eyes snapped open—but they weren't her eyes anymore. They burned with silver fire, and when she spoke, her voice carried the resonance of something vast and ancient.
"Hello, brothers," she said, sitting up despite her bonds. "Did you really think we wouldn't recognize bait when we saw it?"
Dario's world tilted. "Sarah?"
"Not quite," the being wearing Sarah's face said with a smile that was both gentle and terrible. "Though I must say, she has excellent taste in literature. And in men."
The bonds that had held her dissolved like smoke, and she stood gracefully, power radiating from her small frame.
"Impossible," Marcus breathed. "You're—"
"The Father," she confirmed. "Or rather, a fragment of the Father, sleeping within this remarkable young woman until the proper moment to awaken."