[Suzerain of Sheol]

Nodding to each other, and beckoning the others, Diogenes and Thomas begin once more the measured advance into the monastery. The priest is ready to call down utter holocaust at the first sight of an enemy.

They pass into the covered entranceway for a second time, now lit by strange pale torchlight. The dead are in here as well, but not scattered as they were without. Rather, they are gathered in a circle, all these mutilated children, heads cast back and eyes clenched closed. Their mouths move in silent, indecipherable prayers.

And within their small circle is the corpse of a woman, gowned in white and her face concealed by a heavy veil. A red-bladed knife juts from the center of her chest, and the blood soaking her raiment is old. Dry and colorless.

Lips tight, Thomas calls the group to a halt and passes around the circle, making an attempt at the door.

It does not open.

He tries once more, shouldering it with strength that defies his slight frame. The entire frame shudders and vibrates, but the heavy, iron-bound portals refuse him entrance.

He signals for Diogenes to try, and the psychic is at his side in seconds. Motioning for the priest to back away, he places his palm against the door, and focuses.

A resonance begins to build, the accumulation of psionic potential, until his hand begins to blur, quivering with restrained power. There is a barely-audible drone in the air as he prepares.

All at once, his arm flashes in a single, precise strike, a concussive punch into the steel and heartwood. There is a tremendous crack, almost as if the entire marble structure above them is about collapse, and then...

Nothing.

Neither of them can force it.

"Some power of Hell seals the way against us," comes his muffled voice. "I fear force will avail us little here."

Behind his goggles, the man's diamond eyes study the strange, rectangular keyhole forbidding their entrance....