For a moment, Alain just sat there, surprised, as Danielle's words reverberated off the walls around the room. There, in the center of the cultists, was an older man in a suit, knelt on the floor with his hands bound behind his back. His suit was dirty and had been torn in places, but he himself was untouched – Alain could see no cuts or bruises on him at all; even his gray hair and beard seemed to still be in order. If nothing else, he at least hadn't been tortured during his time with the cultists.

That was of little consequence, however, given the swirling mass of black-and-purple energy on the floor between them.

Alain wasn't sure exactly what the vortex was supposed to be, but whatever it was, he knew it couldn't be anything good. He brought his Winchester up and took aim at the nearest cultists, only for the one immediately behind Danielle's father to pull a revolver and cock the hammer back, then press it flush with the senator's head.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the cultist warned. "If anyone fires off a shot, then he dies."

Az scowled, then took a step forward, leveling his Gatling gun towards the cultists as he did so. "You can't kill him," he stated. "Not if you want your ritual to be a success."

"Oh, I beg to differ. The ritual has already been a success; as we speak, the gap between the Underworld and the mortal plane lessens."

"You wouldn't be able to summon a true demon," Az proclaimed.

The cultist smirked. "It would be a setback, to be sure, but look around you. Already, the Underworld's influence is spreading. Soon enough, this entire town will be under its control. And then there will be nothing stopping us from marching on the rest of the country with as many legions as we want. Losing the senator now would hurt, but in due time, it won't matter."

Az let out a low growl and went to begin cranking off shots from his Gatling gun, only for Sable to reach out and grab hold of his hand, stopping him firing the weapon. Az turned to her in surprise.

"My lady-"

"Don't," she warned. "We still need to get Danielle's father out of here."

"My lady, if we don't do something now, then it won't matter. One human dying is worth-"

"What?!" Danielle demanded. She instantly rounded on Az, leveling her rifle at his head. "What did you just fucking say?!"

"I spoke the truth," Az told her.

"Bullshit," Danielle growled. "You are not killing my father, no matter what."

"He is already dead, you just can't see it. And if they complete this ritual, his fate will be worse than simply receiving a bullet in the head."

"I don't care. He's still alive now, and that means there's still a chance to get him out of here."

"Enough!" Alain shouted, silencing them both. He glared at Az. "Either you start talking now or things are about to get way worse for us."

Az scowled. "You want the truth? Fine, here it is – these fools are trying to summon a greater demon from the depths of the Underworld. They intend for the senator to be the demon's vessel in this mortal plane. They are going to offer his body and soul to the pits of hell, leaving him hollow, and then allow whatever is left to be filled by whichever demon answers the call." Az tore his gaze away from Alain, then looked back over to the cultists. "You do not know the kind of powers you're meddling with. These are powers man was never meant to come into contact with in the first place. Whatever you believe you will receive in exchange for essentially opening the gates of hell, you are sorely mistaken."

"And you would know?" the lead cultist taunted.

Az's expression darkened. "More than you could ever believe. And that is why I cannot allow this to happen."

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Before Alain could stop him, Az tore his hand away from Sable's grasp, moving it towards the crank on his Gatling gun. He grasped hold of it, and was just about to begin turning it, when a shot rang out. Alain jumped at the sudden noise, snapping over to the cultists, but to his surprise, the gunshot hadn't come from them.

Rather, it had come from Danielle.

Alain could only watch as the world seemed to move in slow-motion. All of them watched in Disbelief as Az's body fell to the ground, a hole bored through the back of his head and a lifeless expression on his face. Even Danielle was watching in disbelief, as if she couldn't believe what she'd just done.

Az's body hit the ground, where it laid motionless for a second before Sable's scream shattered the heavy silence.

"Az!" she shouted, rushing to his side and trying to check on him, but to no avail.

Alain, meanwhile, turned towards Danielle, who was still standing there, stunned.

"What the hell did you just do?!" Alain demanded.

Danielle blinked. "I… he was going to kill my father… I didn't… I had no choice…"

Alain grit his teeth, but before he could say anything, Sable suddenly rushed Danielle down, tackling her. Both women fell to the floor; Sable landed on top, where she straddled Danielle, one fist cocked back and her fangs bared. Alain could see tears on the edges of her vision.

Before she could strike Danielle, however, Alain shouted.

"Sable, stop!"

Sable turned towards him, her red eyes seeming to almost glow in the darkness of the spire's interior.

"She killed him" Sable growled. "Give me one good reason not to do it, Alain."

That gave him pause. Alain weighed his options, but found no suitable answer. He'd trusted Danielle through this journey, and yet she'd all but betrayed them by gunning Az down in order to save her father. But at the same time, allowing Sable to kill her didn't seem right to him.

Luckily for him, the cultists made his decision for him.

"Well, this has certainly been entertaining to watch," the lead cultist said. "But we simply must move on."

He snapped his fingers, and the sea of cultists parted, revealing another person. To Alain's surprise, it was Stephen Wicks, and he was being pushed forward, his hands bound behind him the same as Senator Silvera's. Unlike the senator, however, he had been roughed up – his suit was torn and covered with dried blood, and he had several cuts and scratches across his face.

Most striking of all, however, the once-jovial expression he'd had plastered across his face back at the steel mill was now gone, replaced with one of sheer terror.

"What are you doing?!" Stephen shouted, struggling in his bonds to try and free himself, to no avail. "I did everything you asked of me! We had a deal!"

"Indeed, we did," the lead cultist confirmed with a nod. "But unbeknownst to you, the blood of a traitor and his payment are two of the final keys to the ritual."

The cultist stepped forward, pulling out a small leather pouch from within his robe. Alain shouldered his shotgun and went to take a shot, only for the other cultists to ready their weapons and take aim at the three of them. Alain grit his teeth, withering under the prospect of being killed by a volley of fire, and as distasteful as he found it, he couldn't help but let his finger off the trigger of his weapon. The lead cultist saw this, and the corners of his mouth quirked up in amusement, though he said nothing, instead simply up-ending the pouch.

To Alain's confusion, several silver coins fell into the swirling vortex of purple and black below. The energy showed no reaction, even as it swallowed the coins – at least two dozen of them, by Alain's count.

"Thirty pieces of silver," the cultist noted. "The same payment received by the Hanged Man for his betrayal, and the same amount used to purchase the place of his burial, now offered to you, great Leviathan."

Once that was done, the lead cultist turned towards Stephen Wicks, who wilted under his gaze.

"And now," the man in red declared, "the blood of the betrayer himself."

"W-wait!" Stephen managed to get out. "I can pay you! Everything I have, it's yours, just please don't-"

The cultist didn't bother to listen further, instead raising his revolver and putting a bullet through Stephen's head before he could even finish his sentence. Stephen's body fell like a puppet with its strings cut, and the moment it hit the ground, the cultist rolled his corpse into the vortex, which swallowed it as easily as it had the coins just a few seconds earlier.

This time, there was a reaction. The surface of the vortex began to bubble and emit a black haze of some kind; Alain coughed, the stench of smoke now filling the room. It was overpowering, even though there was no immediate source for it. The cultists seemed unaffected, however; in fact, many of them looked downright excited about what was coming next.

"Finally," the man in red stated, "the body of the one who will be the vessel."

"No!" Danielle shouted. "Alain, stop him!"

But there was nothing Alain could do when faced with more than twenty rifles, all pointed at him. Dismayed, the only option he had was to watch as the cultist kicked Senator Silvera in the back, sending him tumbling into the vortex, where he quickly disappeared under the surface.

"No!" Danielle screamed, thrashing under Sable's grasp. "Father! Father!"

But despite her protests, the senator didn't resurface. Alain could only watch as the black mass in the center of the room began to bubble even more furiously, haze leaking out of it the entire time, until suddenly, it stopped. The vortex of black and purple suddenly froze, seeming to lighten a bit to an almost dark gray.

Then it shattered, as if it were a mirror that had been struck with a hammer.

Haze filled the room once more, this time making it impossible to see anything. Everyone began to cough as it filled their lungs. But just as soon as it had started, it cleared, revealing a figure floating above where the miasma of black and purple had been just a moment ago.

It was Senator Silvera, and yet it wasn't. His suit was now immaculate, and he looked far more youthful than he had mere moments ago, all traces of gray having left him, replaced with black. Even the wrinkles around his face were gone; he looked more like a man in his mid-thirties than one in his early sixties, like he had before. Most striking of all, however, were his eyes, which had gone from green to blood red encircled with black.

He stayed in the middle of the room for a moment, floating there motionlessly before turning to the cultists in red, a wicked-looking grin crossing his face.

"My children," he greeted, stretching his arms out. "You have summoned me, and for that, you have my thanks. You shall receive your reward."

The cultists began to cheer. Alain couldn't help but note how macabre it sounded – the sound resembled baying animals more than anything. The thought only lasted for a moment before the man possessing Senator Silvera's body turned towards him. To Alain's shock, however, the demon looked past him and Sable, instead focusing his gaze on Az's body. Surprise crossed the man's face, though it was soon replaced with grim happiness.

"My, my," he noted. "To think, after everything we went through together all those years ago, this is where you ended up." He shook his head. "I wish I could say I was surprised, but then again, you always did have a sentimental side for the mortals, Azazel."