[Suzerain of Sheol]

At the sound of the intruding voice, Thomas the Chaplain whirls around, reaching within the breast of his robe to draw out a concealed sub-machinegun, aiming it squarely on the girl approaching.

"Who are you to command the obedience of this council?" he demands.


Taking a single step to the left to clear his avenue of fire around the mercenary dominating the center of the room, Diogenes too draws one of his guns, aiming with his psychic sight and ready to send a .45-caliber high-explosive round through the girl's brainpan if he senses even the slightest hostile intent from her.

The turmoil radiating from her thoughts is troubling, a palpable wave of chaos crashing telepathically against his own stilled mind again and again, but it seems more of pain and confusion, than malice. He has not yet decided she is a threat.

Evidently, Zaccheus agrees with his assessment as his voice cracks over them like a thunderhead. "Stand down, both of you, Thomas, Diogenes. The devil himself could not assay me in this chamber, this, the heart of my earthly power. Your protection is appreciated, but needless."

He fixes his gaze on the intruder, and asks, "For what would you have us hold, child? Hell-fires burn against a near horizon, and we can ill-afford delay. Speak." His command is absolute.