The world didn't come back gently this time. It ripped back.

  My eyes opened to the sight of steel - the sword, still buried in the Cardinal's chest.

  His breath came out in small, shallow tremors, each one weaker than the last. The black spikes that had pinned the mechanical eyes around him began to fade, their color leaching away like ink diluted in water.

  Then I felt it.

  A pull.

  Something was being dragged out of him - out of them - and into me. The shadows on the blade writhed, then slithered up the metal like serpents, coiling up my arm before seeping into my skin.

  My right eye burned. Deep black liquid dripped down my cheek in thick, murky drops. It felt like crying, but colder - like my tears were made of oil.

  The Bishop smiled faintly, voice soft as a prayer. "It's done."

  He let go of the sword and, before I could even breathe, wrapped me in an embrace - an almost gentle one. His voice became a whisper against my ear.

  "It's started. That disease you saw won't stop here. My original objective was to retrieve samples of it, which I did long ago. I wish you luck, my little angel. Keep that pitiful girl close to you - and save her from what's to come."

  I stood frozen, the Cardinal's last breath rattling somewhere behind me.

  The Bishop pulled back slightly, eyes unreadable behind the cracked mask. "My time is up. I'm sorry for what I'm about to do. The Empire's dogs arrived faster than expected."

  He smiled again, almost fondly. "When you see the Prophet, tell them that Maxwell sends his regards."

  Then his fist slammed into my gut. Air left my lungs in a violent gasp as my body hurled backward. I hit the wall hard - stone cracking against the back of my skull - and the world blurred.

  Through the ringing in my ears, I heard her.

  "Damian!"

  Mary's voice - sharp with panic. Footsteps, the sound of fabric, the warmth of her hands pulling at me, trying to keep me awake.

  My vision swam in and out of focus. Through the haze I saw the Bishop laughing - madly, beautifully, terrifyingly. His voice rang through the collapsing hall.

  "No one can stop what's coming! The Veil watches! It watches all!"

  The church doors burst open. Three figures stepped through, cloaked and masked - Inquisitors.

  Rain blew in behind them, carried by the wind. For a moment, the silver on their masks caught the candlelight and gleamed like halos.

  The Bishop turned toward them, posture lazy, almost amused.

  The lead Inquisitor spoke first, voice distorted through the mask's filter. "Maxwell, Bishop of the Black Sun. By order of the Emperor and the Inquisition, you are condemned to death."

  He gestured to the other two.

  The one on the left broke formation, running straight toward Mary and me. Her mask glowed faintly blue as she knelt. Through the voice box came a clear, feminine voice.

  "Please, come with me your Highness. You're not safe here."

  Mary shook her head defiantly, eyes glowing fiercely. "I'm not leaving without him!"

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  The Inquisitor tilted her head, gloved hand hovering over my shoulder. "Can he walk?" she asked.

  Mary shook her head weakly.

  "Then I'll carry him. We move now."

  She crouched, sliding her arm under my back-

  "Oh, no you don't."

  The Bishop raised a revolver.

  The shot cracked through the cathedral.

  The Inquisitor's sleeve opened, something metallic falling into her palm. Her hand blurred - and suddenly a wall of churning water erupted between us and the bullet. The round struck the barrier and dissolved with a hiss of steam.

  When the water fell away, the Bishop was already moving.

  He tore his sword free from the Cardinal's chest. The old man's body slumped forward, finally still.

  The Bishop smiled, flicking blood from his sword as he stared down the Inquisitors.

  "You think I won't savor the opportunity to kill these two little saplings? Your lucky you arrived in time, Inquisitorial dogs."

  Without offering a reply, the other two Inquisitors drew their weapons in unison - each blade unfolding like blooming steel, segments clicking into place with mechanical precision.

  The Inquisitor to the lead's right - their blade burned with flame. Not metaphorically. Actual flames crawled up the blade, deep red and hungry, distorting the air around it with waves of heat.

  The lead Inquisitor's sword bled black.

  Shadow poured from its edge like smoke, pooling on the ground, crawling up the walls. The weight of it pressed against my chest even from across the room - suffocating, absolute.

  Even half-conscious, I recognized the sight.

  The lead Inquisitor - the one with the black blade - stepped forward.

  He didn't speak. Didn't hesitate.

  He swung.

  The world screamed.

  Reality itself seemed to tear along the arc of his blade. Darkness erupted in a crescent slash that carved through the cathedral like the stroke of a god. Pews exploded into splinters. Stone walls cracked and crumbled. The altar shattered, chunks of marble launched into the air. The roof split open with a deafening roar, beams collapsing inward as rain poured through the wound.

  Half the building simply ceased.

  The entire left side of the cathedral folded inward, swallowed by the cut. Where the strike landed, nothing remained - just empty space and the howl of wind rushing to fill the void.

  The Bishop staggered back, eyes wide behind his mask.

  For the first time, I saw him shocked.

  "Ah," he breathed, smiling as though he found the whole situation intriguing. "So they sent one of you."

  He laughed - high, manic, broken. "Shouldn't you be in the capital? Why did one of you bastards have to come to this backwater city."

  The second Inquisitor moved.

  Fire roared from their blade in a spiraling column, wrapping around the Bishop like a serpent. He teleported - once, twice - but the flames followed, bending midair, tracking him with impossible precision.

  When he reappeared, his cloak was burning.

  He ripped it off, letting it fall in smoking ruins.

  The flames barely singed him. He could handle the fire Inquisitor alone - but not both of them.

  The lead Inquisitor closed the distance in a single step - too fast to follow - the distraction working perfectly.

  His blade came down. The Bishop blocked, but the force drove him into the floor - stone cracking beneath him, forming a crater.

  I could see it.

  He was outmatched.

  The Inquisitors moved like machines - silent, efficient, overwhelming. Each strike drove him back. Each dodge came slower.

  His laughter only increased with his wounds.

  The Bishop's hand shot to his coat. He pulled something free - a syringe, filled with glowing yellow liquid.

  "You think you've won?" he gasped, smile never disappearing. "You think this ends here?"

  He tore off his mask.

  The void beneath stared back - but now, something glowed inside it. That single green eye, burning brighter than before.

  "The Veil gave me everything," he whispered, almost reverent. "And now-"

  He jammed the syringe into his neck.

  "-I give it back."

  The lead Inquisitor moved instantly.

  His blade flashed.

  The strike pierced the Bishop's skull.

  The bishop crumpled onto the ground, the Inquisitor driving the blade deeper while standing on top of him.

  For a heartbeat, the world froze.

  Then the Bishop changed.

  His body convulsed, limbs snapping at unnatural angles. His chest split open - not torn, but unfolding, like a flower made of ribs and sinew. Black tendrils erupted from the wound, writhing, grasping, dragging themselves across the floor.

  The green eye multiplied - dozens of them, sprouting across his flesh, staring in every direction at once.

  His laughter returned, but it wasn't his voice anymore.

  It was voices - layered, distorted, speaking in unison.

  "THE VEIL WATCHES! IT WATCHES! IT WATCHES ALL!"

  The Inquisitor ripped his blade free and stepped back, raising his weapon as it bled increasingly black.

  The fire Inquisitor joined him, flames roaring to life.

  The woman carrying me pulled Mary and me through the shattered doorway as the cathedral began to collapse behind us.

  The last thing I saw - through blurred vision and fading consciousness - was the thing that had been Maxwell.

  A mass of writhing shadow and glowing eyes, laughing as the Inquisitors closed in.

  And then-

  Darkness.