The air in the hall seemed to vibrate — as if every wall had its own heart, pulsing in sync with the circle carved into the ground.
Nyra's blood still dripped across the runes, and the Convergent Amulet flickered with intertwining red and black light.
At the center of the room stood Cletus — his face half-consumed by shadow — watching everything with an unreadable smile.
In one corner, the blonde girl, Tory, stirred, struggling to regain consciousness.
Her blue eyes fluttered open in confusion, her voice weak as it echoed through the chamber:
"What… what's happening…?"
Cletus turned slowly, the green glow of the circle reflecting in his eyes.
"Good girl," he murmured, approaching her.
"Pure and innocent… just like your mother."
Hatred ignited in Tory's gaze. She drew the Uzi from the holster at her side and aimed it at him.
"You dumpass!"
Before she could fire, Ponyus was already behind her — as if he had melted out of the air itself.
His twisted hand clamped over her head, fingers tightening with a sickening crack.
"Time for Daddy to give his daughter a beating!" he laughed, voice dripping with madness.
Then came the sound — CRASH! CRASH! CRASH!
Tory's head slammed against the metal floor, again and again.
The torches around them flickered with every impact. Blood spread across the stone. Her eyes went unfocused for an instant, her trembling body barely conscious.
Ponyus stopped, lifting the girl by the hair, her face dripping crimson.
He turned her toward Nyra, who stood frozen, katana trembling in her hands, fury in her eyes.
"You wanna know why the spell won't break, huh, Nyra?!"
He pointed at the circle.
"You've got both amulets… and the blood of Ulisses! You had everything you needed to unleash the darkness!"
A gunshot rang out.
Lucy, slumped to one side and gasping for breath, slowly raised her pistol.
"I already told you…" she spat blood, her grin laced with defiance,
"…I can't stand people who talk more than me."
She pulled the trigger again and again.
Bullets screamed through the air, ricocheting off the pillars. Ponyus dodged every shot with inhuman grace, spinning like a deranged marionette.
"Tsk, tsk…" he mocked, landing softly in front of her.
"You're wounded and weak… even I can still do…"
He crouched close, whispering by her ear:
"…this to you!"
A blur of movement — too fast to see.
Lucy hit the ground hard, her sword flying from her grasp.
She tried to rise, but her body refused to move.
Satisfied, Ponyus slowly shifted back into Cletus.
His form flickered between flesh and dark energy, as though reality itself rejected him.
He strode toward the circle, picking up Tory's spear — still slick with blood and dust.
"Two amulets… the blood of Ulisses…" he said in a low, solemn voice.
"Now only one last key remains."
The spear's tip glowed green.
He looked down at Tory, crawling weakly across the floor.
"He sacrificed two things… to surpass the power of this fortress," Cletus intoned.
"His own cursed blood… and that of a mortal priestess. A VanHellsing."
He drove the spear into Tory's thigh. Her scream pierced the air.
Blood flowed freely, snaking through the cracks in the stone until it reached the circle's center.
The runes ignited — their red glow blazing like molten fire.
Cletus smiled, cruel and ecstatic.
"I needed you, the one who carries the same blood as the woman sacrificed," his voice warped, echoing in distorted layers.
"The spell could never be undone without your blood, Sophie!"
His body twisted again, bones snapping into place as the hysterical laughter returned.
Ponyus rose once more, shrieking with delight.
"What a trip it's been, huh?! If you'd died before getting here, our plan would've been a total disaster! Hahahaha!"
He spun wildly, dancing over the blood.
"I needed you all to hate each other — to fight, to bleed, to crawl here broken and half-dead!"
He pointed at Lucy and Nyra, both struggling to stand.
"And at the same time, I made sure you, my sweet Sophie, survived."
Laughter echoed through the hall again — shrill, inhuman.
"I played the fool for so long! Hahahaha!"
His grin stretched unnaturally wide.
"Time to sleep, Sophie. You'll get to see your precious mother soon…"
But before he could strike, Tory twisted her body, grabbing the spear impaled in her leg and wrenching it free — blood pouring down her thigh.
Shaking, her voice hoarse, she raised the glowing weapon to the clown's neck.
"Make me."
A crack in the air.
On one side, Nyra leapt forward, katana in hand, gauntlets blazing with blue light.
"Time for the clown to thank his audience, Cletus."
On the other, Lucy appeared, dragging Dracallion along the ground — her body drenched in blood, eyes burning with resolve.
"Well… looks like the cheap circus act is over."
The clown stared at them — his laughter finally gone. The air turned heavy, silent.
Then Ponyus began to melt again — flesh and paint dripping away — until only Cletus remained: the man, the manipulator, the demon in human skin.
He smiled calmly.
"Impressive. I didn't expect much from a descendant of the beast…" — his eyes flicked toward Nyra — "…but you've exceeded expectations."
His gaze gleamed an eerie green.
"Only one problem, though… the spell is already broken."
The floor quaked.
The circle glowed red and black, expanding until it covered the entire chamber.
From its center, a gray monument began to rise — a living tower, its surface carved with countless eyes and silent screaming mouths.
"What do you think happens next?" Cletus asked, laughing.
"Let's welcome chaos!"
The ceiling began to split open, as if the entire castle were breathing.
Black and crimson light surged upward, and the ground lifted, carrying Cletus with it.
The three women lunged toward him — but he spun in midair, moving like a phantom, sweeping all three off their feet in a single strike.
The floor beneath them started to crumble, splitting away from the rising platform.
As he ascended, Cletus looked down at Tory — his grin a slice of pure madness.
"Just sit tight and wait…"
The runes flared green.
"…wait for the birth of a new god!"
He spread his arms wide.
"I will claim the power of Ulisses!"
His laughter echoed higher and higher, fading into the abyss above.
The entire hall began to collapse.
Columns shattered, chunks of ceiling rained down, and the air reeked of sulfur and burning iron.
Tory slipped, the floor crumbling beneath her feet.
She screamed as she fell toward the dark void— until a hand caught her wrist.
Lucy, panting, clung to her with one hand, Dracallion embedded in the ledge with the other.
Despite the blood running down her face, she smiled.
"Relax, sweet…" she said through ragged breaths, pulling Tory up with all her strength.
"I'm not done with my show yet."
To be continued...