The ancient incantations spilled from the mouths of Constantine and Papa Midnight.
They didn't sound like any human language.
At least Soren couldn't understand a word.
The innermost circle of the summoning array on the floor began to glow.
Soren stood quietly at the edge of the array, demonic power boiling inside him like a furnace. Not a single wisp leaked from his skin. Every ounce had been forcibly condensed into his clenched right fist.
The room temperature plunged. The whole house shook. Dust rained from the ceiling.
Outside.
It had been bright noon a second ago. Now the sky was swallowed by sudden darkness.
Pitch-black clouds formed an inverted funnel above the street, its tip locked onto the Hudson house roof.
BOOM!
Lightning cracked across the heavens.
"Quick! Camera on the second floor! Don't miss a single frame!"
Reporters behind the cordon lost their minds. They'd only shown up for some boring paranormal fluff piece—nobody expected an honest-to-God apocalypse on camera.
Onlookers gasped. Camera flashes popped like fireworks. A few fearless paparazzi even tried to slip past the tape for a closer shot.
A blood-red glow poured from the second-floor window.
The air grew thick enough to choke on.
Ed and Lorraine Warren froze mid-step while herding neighbors away. Lorraine's body started shaking violently. As a medium, the instant that crimson light hit her, her mind was yanked straight into a vision of endless torment and agony.
"GOD… what the hell are they doing in there?!"
Two bloody tears slid down her cheeks. The overwhelming malice from the other side shattered her mental defenses. Her eyes rolled back and she collapsed into her husband's arms.
Inside the room.
The array's red light flared to its limit. Cracks spider-webbed through the air.
A pitch-black spatial fissure tore open in the center of the room.
Through the gap Soren saw a wasteland battered by endless sandstorms. Hellfire burned in the corners. Tens of thousands of scavenger demons swarmed toward the opening like starving rats.
Countless claws scrabbled at the edges, desperate to crawl into the human world.
Constantine's face went corpse-white. The hand forming seals trembled. The nightmare from years ago was replaying right in front of him. He squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to watch.
Then—
A bone-chilling roar erupted from the other side of the fissure.
Every scavenger demon clawing its way out disintegrated into black mist on the spot.
Papa Midnight's forehead broke out in cold sweat.
He was already regretting the price.
Even wiping out those little trash demons would've cost him serious life force, grinding them down one by one.
But now? He hadn't even seen the main boss move and they were already ash.
Five million dollars? Too cheap. This was straight-up charity!
Next time he'd charge ten times that.
The fissure was forced wider by overwhelming power.
What stepped out was nothing like the grotesque monster they'd imagined.
A pale-skinned little boy with empty eyes rode a two-headed dragon, slowly crossing the threshold.
The boy's lips never moved, yet a layered, echoing voice exploded directly inside their heads:
"Humans… has the vessel I requested finally been prepared?"
Soren, fist already cocked, paused.
Vessel?
This demon sounded awfully familiar with humans.
Instead of swinging, he played along with a calm smile. "Honored Demon God, finding a perfect container strong enough to hold your power always takes time."
He suspected the "human" preparing the vessel was the same mastermind behind "The Darkness Is Coming."
Even Mammon's descent was probably just one piece of their bigger game.
The boy's hollow eyes shifted. Seated atop the dragon, he looked down at Soren.
"Centuries ago your ancestors contacted me through sacrifice…"
"Now I must clear every obstacle for my lord Mammon's descent!"
As he spoke, half the two-headed dragon's massive body had already forced its way through the fissure.
Constantine saw Soren still chatting like they were ordering pizza and nearly exploded.
"Soren! Hit it already! What the hell are you waiting for—afternoon tea?!"
Soren ignored him and kept fishing. "Centuries is a long time. Those ancestors who contacted you have long since turned to dust. The current plan—"
"You're lying."
Valak's vertical pupils narrowed. "They lived so long—how could they possibly be dead?!"
The demon god's rage erupted. Forcing against the ancient contract between worlds, it shoved its way through the fissure even faster.
Outside, the sky turned pitch black. Gale-force winds howled. Lightning snakes writhed in the clouds like the end of the world had arrived.
"Then I'm afraid you'll have to go back to Hell and ask them yourself."
Soren's lips curled into a cold sneer. His left hand summoned the Holy Flame Exorcism shotgun. Two thunderous shots roared straight at the two-headed dragon.
BOOM! BOOM!
The instant the holy flames lit up, Soren's right fist—charged with every drop of condensed demonic power—exploded forward like a cannon shell, smashing dead-center into Valak's face.
The boy's features twisted and shattered. Skin split open.
Huge black wings unfurled behind him, jamming the edges of the fissure in a desperate attempt to widen it further.
Papa Midnight gritted his teeth and poured everything into his artifact. Constantine sped up his chanting.
Soren closed in, raining down punch after punch packed with raw demonic force.
Yet Valak showed no pain.
On that bloody, ruined face a vicious grin spread. Enduring the barrage, it kept advancing step by step.
Right then—
The outer rings of the array blazed blue and yellow!
The restriction arrays Constantine and Papa Midnight had prepared earlier activated.
Chains of light shot out, piercing Valak's body and draining its power.
"ROOOAR—!"
Valak's furious bellow shook the house. The human-boy skin sloughed off. Black feathers withered and fell.
Its forward momentum finally halted.
Soren's eyes flashed. His figure vanished.
The next instant he reappeared above the two-headed dragon.
Demonic power surged into his arm. One punch.
CRACK!
Hard scales shattered like paper. The entire massive dragon head exploded.
Papa Midnight's pupils shrank to pinpricks. That was a demon—how the hell did a human body punch its head off bare-handed?!
Valak, still seated on the dragon's back, finally sensed the demonic energy rolling off Soren. His empty eyes widened in shock and suspicion.
"The taste of Sparda… what is your relationship with Vergil?"