"Hm." Tyler stared at the massive door covered in crosses, his expression tightening slightly. "I'm getting the feeling whatever's on the other side of that thing is definitely not human."
Baphomet didn't stop walking. "And does that concern you?"
Tyler shoved his hands into his pockets, eyes still on the door. "Depends how likely it is to rip me in half."
"Power is power," Baphomet replied smoothly. "Humans obsess over whether something is good or evil because weakness requires justification. The strong simply take what they want."
Tyler was quiet for a moment after that, though his expression suggested he wasn't entirely buying the speech.
Then his eyes drifted toward Baphomet's clothes.
"You know," he said, "ever since you stopped being black smoke, your outfit's been bothering me."
Baphomet glanced down at himself. "Really? I borrowed this body from a man in a respectable academic position. Humans seemed to admire him."
"No," Tyler said immediately. "It sucks. You look like a divorced art teacher trying to sell crystals online."
For the first time since they met, Baphomet actually paused.
"That," he said slowly, "was unexpectedly specific."
Tyler shrugged. "I worked at a café. I've seen your type."
Baphomet stared at him for a second before giving a small shrug. "Human appearances are ultimately meaningless. A temporary aesthetic choice." He adjusted the sleeves of the borrowed outfit with mild disinterest.
"Soon I won't have any need for this body anyway."
His gaze shifted back toward the massive sealed door.
"So," he continued calmly, "go. Remove the crosses. Break the seal."
The cold in the corridor seemed to deepen slightly.
"Then we unleash Valak," Baphomet said, a faint smile forming at the edge of his mouth, "and begin our revenge."
Tyler didn't say anything after that. As long as he could drag Ethan down and crush that smug confidence out of him, he didn't really care what it cost. If opening the doors to hell was what it took, then so be it.
Tyler walked toward the door, his eyes moving over the crosses hammered into the wood.
Some crosses were old enough to rot at the edges while others looked newer, placed there by people desperate enough to believe they could keep whatever was inside from getting out.
The closer Tyler got to the door, the colder the corridor became. Frost crept slowly across the stone beneath his boots as he pulled the crosses free one by one, throwing them aside until the last of them hit the floor with a dull clatter.
The door stood bare now.
Baphomet stepped forward and held out a key.
The key stolen from Wednesday's room.
***
"Wow," Wednesday said quietly as she looked around the monastery interior. "This is the same monastery from the murder house photographs."
The halls stretched endlessly ahead of them, lined with old religious statues worn down by time and moisture. Most of their faces were cracked. Some looked deliberately damaged.
Morticia studied the walls with calm interest. "Charming atmosphere. Very oppressive. Your father would adore this place."
Wednesday ignored that.
"If the monastery is real," she continued, "then everything we found in that house becomes significantly more credible."
Ethan's expression had darkened slightly as he looked deeper into the abbey. "Yeah. Which is the problem."
Morticia glanced toward him. "What did you find exactly, dear?"
Ethan exhaled once. "A mess. Demon worship, occult rituals, references to gateways beneath the monastery. And way too many notes about something being sealed under this place."
Something moved.
Fast.
A dark shape passed across the corridor in front of them so quickly it barely registered, but the sudden pressure that followed made all three of them react instantly.
Even Morticia's expression shifted.
That was not human.
"Let me check," Ethan said.
Then he vanished, disappearing down the corridor in a blur before either of them could respond.
The silence he left behind felt worse.
Morticia's eyes stayed fixed on the darkness ahead. "Wednesday," she said quietly, "you should not be involving yourself with things like this. Whatever just passed us was deeply unnatural."
Wednesday's grip tightened slightly around the torch. "That tends to happen around me."
"I'm serious."
"So am I."
Morticia finally looked directly at her daughter. "There is danger in this place. Real danger."
Wednesday met her gaze without hesitation.
"Danger exists for people incapable of handling it," she said calmly. "I don't intend to be one of them."
Morticia watched her for a long moment, the dim torchlight catching the concern hidden beneath her calm expression.
"Wednesday," she said softly, "there is a difference between confronting danger and chasing it."
Wednesday didn't answer immediately.
Morticia stepped closer, her voice remaining gentle but firm. "I know you enjoy mysteries, darkness, all the things that make ordinary people run in the opposite direction. You always have. But sometimes danger is not meant to be pursued simply because it exists."
Wednesday's gaze stayed forward, fixed on the corridor where Ethan had disappeared.
"You sound like father," she said.
Morticia smiled faintly. "Your father encourages danger because he enjoys surviving it. I'm speaking as your mother."
"I noticed the unpleasant sincerity."
Morticia reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from Wednesday's face. "Not every monster needs to be challenged personally, darling."
Wednesday finally looked at her. "And if no one does?"
The question lingered between them for a second.
Morticia's expression softened slightly. "Then you choose carefully which battles are worth bleeding for."
Wednesday's eyes narrowed just a little. "That sounds dangerously close to wisdom."
"I have my moments."
***
A/N: And on Patreon, The Boys arc started.
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