[Suzerain of Sheol]

"This?" Kasdeja glances in seeming boredom at the dripping heart. "Nothing to fear here. Just the pathetic remnant of a sad man's worthless life. Just look at him..." The Nephilim takes an exaggerated glance over his shoulder. "Doesn't know when to turn in the mantle. Does he think his God would appreciate this? Obstinate zealot. I may have to remind him of his mortality if our dear, dour pawn of Abaddon can't manage it himself."

Not even remotely concerned that no one is paying attention to him, Kasdeja looks back to Innon, saying, "I've decided. You're coming with us." He gives an infant's choking giggle, showing his disturbing black-and-ivory teeth.

* * *

The priest's head explodes, collapsing inward an instant before the gun's retort reaches their ears. More light escapes from the wound, a spear of golden-white extending to heaven. If the bullet has harmed Mithaias, there is no indication as he confronts Na'lsa's abominable form. Brilliant energy coalesces in his fists, arcing in opaline sparks until it looks as though the priest wears gauntlets of lightning. The light from the wound in his chest has set his robe aflame, the fire slowly spreading to devour the garment, bearing the blue-black plates beneath its golden cloth.