An alarm went off in the dead of night. Jean was already on his feet while his men scrambled to get out of bed, rushing to the red-lit hall. The red phone in the center of the hall was flashing its scarlet colors, its handset lit up, splaying read onto the ceiling. He quickly picked it up.

"The Cellar Outpost," he said, loud enough to be heard clearly.

"Jean." He recognized Ulrich's agitated voice. "There's an invasion in Iroquin. The devil and the other creature are there."

Jean leaned against the wall as his heart skipped a beat. "And...Jermaine?"

"Can't get into contact with him. Some of his men sent a call of distress to every hunter in the area. I thought I'd let you know."

Teeth clenching, Jean's mind went to the pictures he saw and reports he read after the deaths of the Reznick and Richardson Hunters. He wouldn't let that happen, again. "We'll be there," he said.

"Are—are you sure?" Ulrich sounded wary. "It's...not your territory—"

"It's damn near close enough!" Jean withheld a growl, which came as both a surprise and as a sign of how agitated he still was from the day before. "You know, you're right—it isn't our territory, so don't bother going ahead."

"Jean—"

He hung up. In his peripheral, Artie stood at the ready.

"What is it?" his cousin asked, blond brows visibly furrowed in the dim light.

Jean began to walk up the nearest staircase. "It's the Hancock Hunters. There's an invasion; the devil and its mate are there, too." He stopped to watch his cousin's expression and the expressions on his men as they listened.

No one looked particularly against the idea of going.

He narrowed his eyes at them, then continued up the steps. "All but Verne, to me."

He wasn't going to give them a choice.

Roughly fifty minutes later, they flew by helicopter into the general airspace of Ostego Lake. They weren't the only ones who answered the Hancock Hunters' distress call. The Wisk Hunters and Crane Hunters were also present. The Crane Hunters' helicopter had arrived along with theirs, and the Wisk Hunters were already on the ground.

Several flying creatures soared and dove in the air, and some of the Wisk Hunters spread through the forest below. Shouts and sounds of shooting rang out in the night. Jean and his men wore night vision goggles, allowing them to spot the moving targets with ease. Over the forest, the tall figure of the long-limbed creature remained standing, long tendrils undulating idly behind its back. Its oval, grinning head turned to their direction as they approached.

Raphael, who was piloting, landed them closer to the bay where they departed before the helicopter touched the ground. Jean stared at Hobboilen's monstrous, lanky form but was compelled to turn away and help aid the others. The helicopter took off again as he unsheathed his sword and ran into the fray.

He spotted several four-legged demons with mandibles and wings. They were both on land and in the sky, and some were floating dead in the water. Their wings were like an insect's, but those that were on land did not have wings. Or so it seemed.

Seeing several of them in a sort of jagged line, he manifested ice into his blade, then struck the ground. The ice crawled through the earth, over the grass, encasing the demons' legs. They screamed out from the pain of being frozen solid, and he took his sword from the ground. As he did, Butch axed them to death while Musa blew their heads up with his rifle.

They continued running, fanning out in a line into the forest, methodically killing the demons as they went. The smell of human blood and flesh wrinkled his nose before Jean spotted the dead bodies of several from Jermaine's group. Their bodies were ripped to shreds, eyes bulging out and mouths hanging open from screams. He whispered soft prayers their way as he passed them by.

But Jermaine. Where was he? His cousin Melanie? Jean's heart throbbed at the thought of their deaths. Had they arrived too late?

He manifested some platforms to run into the air above the trees. Looking around, he spotted a park where a huddled group of hunters fended off a swarm of demons. Sheathing his sword, he made a ball with both hands, manifesting blue electricity. It sparked and sizzled in his palms, then covered his hands akin to gloves. With a cry, he focused the electricity to shoot bolts from his fingers, directing them to attack the demons. Realizing they were outmatched, some began to run away while some looked between the group and him before attacking either. Those that went for him were electrocuted, and the smell of burning demon flesh permeated his nostrils.

He landed on the ground after the horde was eradicated. He immediately spotted Jermaine and gave a breath of relief. "Jermaine. You're alive."

Reloading his gun, the man gave a wry smile. "Wasn't sure how much longer. My men are exhausted, Jean. We've been dealing with this horde for hours," he explained, approaching his friend. He seemed exhausted. He and his men were also wearing night vision gear. Beckoning towards the direction of the nearest road, he explained, "These demons first appeared in town. We used rosemary to herd them toward this area, away from civilians, but we've run out of rosemary and holy water. They're little more than pissed off children now, retaliating with a vengeance."

Jean motioned towards the direction of Hobboilen. "And the tall one?"

"Appeared out of nowhere. We have only seen glimpses of the devil. It's what killed my men," Jermaine mournfully responded, shaking his head at the mention of his dead comrades.

"I brought most of my team," Jean assured, "and Wisk and Crane are also here."

"Thank Creation." Jermaine aimed and shot at a lingering demon. "Thank you, Jean."

"We'll talk some other time." Jean patted his shoulder before running in another direction. "I'll contact Raph and see if we can use a purge to halt the demons' advancement!" he called.

He went back into the sky, standing and observing. Hobboilen was still standing motionless, as if watching them like a spectator. He scowled. He would take care of it. Eventually.

"Raph, come in," he said into his earpiece.

"Here."

Looking at the helicopter in the distance, he motioned around the forest. "Release some of our spare holy water in a spray from the campgrounds and brook to the bay. We've got to reign these heathens in."

"Sent."

Jean froze upon sensing a powerful, eerie presence nearing him at an impossible speed. Swift movement caught his eye below him. The being was tall but hunched over. It moved too fast for him to clearly make out. Out of nowhere, a large figure lunged at him, tackling him to the ground. Crying out, he positioned his gun to shoot at it, but it grabbed his arms and pulled them aside.

"Well, well," growled a deep, demonic voice. Jean's eyes widened as he recognized the forward-curling horns and glowing yellow eyes. "You're inhuman, now. Congratulations." Domien's demonic face was just inches from him, and he felt the creature's engorged stomach rub against him. Needle-like teeth broke out into a sneer. "Too bad I don't give a shit what you are."

Jean couldn't move his body, pinned down by the monstrous power of the devil. He watched the toothy maw widen larger and wider, readying to bite him, and he stared into a black hole.

Then, he sensed him.

An enraged, roaring growl broke out, and Domien was suddenly slammed into by another, larger form. Rolling onto his side, he looked up to see a large, spaded tail disappear into the forest. "Celezar!" he called.

Pushing onto his feet, he dodged away as one of the smaller, bug-like demons flew his way, as if thrown. It had a gaping wound in its side. He looked at its dead form before raising his gun to shoot several more that were running his way.

Abruptly, the helicopter flew overhead, and the demons screamed out, flailing. The spray was doing its job. Trying to escape, they began to run away, towards the water where Hobboilen stood. Jean followed, shooting them from behind.

"Jean, the spray is working!" said Friedrich over the radio. "What's the plan after they near the water?"

"You and I are going to make a barrier. We'll gather them together and take them out all at once," Jean responded, dodging and jumping over fallen demon bodies. "We'll get Ulrich to purge this place with the helitankers later."

"Sent."

Breaking out from the forest, Jean spotted the waterside. However, Hobboilen was gone. A chill went down his spine, and he found himself reaching out with his senses for where the creature went. However, he never sensed it to begin with. It couldn't be found.

He suddenly gasped, turning to the forest. "Celezar," he breathed, running back inside. Celezar combated with Domien. Hobboilen was retaliating.

As he ran, he passed by Megedagik. "Jean?" he called.

Ignoring him, Jean continued to dodge through trees, feeling the wind rush by like it never did before. He was running too fast. He felt the mist of the holy water in his hair and shot at what half-incapacitated demons were left. He couldn't sense Celezar, either.

Just as he thought this, something slammed into him enough to take his breath from his lungs. He choked as he flew back into a tree, then crumpled to the ground. He coughed with some difficulty, then slowly looked up. He removed his broken goggles, just in time to see Celezar's body thrown towards the water by a large black tentacle. A familiar sense of dread overcame him, but he didn't wait to see the long legs, forcing himself to his feet and running back where he came. With his enhanced vision, he didn't need the goggles to see in the dark.

In the far distance behind him, there was a crash and a scream.

"Man down" Musa shouted over the radio. "Man down!"

Heat from fear ran through Jean's body. He almost tripped over his feet in shock. "Musa!" he called into his headset. "What happened?!"

"Butch and Lucas are down!" Loud gunshots erupted in Musa's direction, followed by cries and shouts.

"I'm on my way!" shouted Nicholae.

Torn between looking for Celezar or returning to his men, Jean continued running forward. A deep, pained grimace overcame his features, but he knew Hobboilen was behind him. He hadn't much of a choice in the moment.

When he finally arrived back at the waterfront, from all corners, he spotted hunters herding the demons against the water. Those that were flying were shot down from helicopters. Watching this, Jean faintly sensed Celezar was near. He ran towards the water, holstering his gun. "Friedrich!" he called.

His uncle turned to him, waving for him to hurry up. Gritting his teeth, Jean ran faster. The sooner this was done, the sooner he could make sure his mate and men were alright.

Hobboilen abruptly appeared before them in all its long-limbed glory. Jean went into a dead stop, his body unable to move. He could tell the creature was angry; its tendrils flickered tensely behind its back, its body stooped low. Around him, people began to vomit, and even the demons began to keel over.

He felt blood trickle from his nose, his eyes. He felt his mind struggle to keep up as it was forcibly, slowly shut down. With all his willpower, he raised a shaking hand and made a small circle, summoning a feather into his other hand.

"Etharzi...mirc...etharzi," he breathed before throwing the feather into the sky with his last bit of strength.

Pain blossomed throughout his body, jarring his senses. He felt his entire body tremble, spasming uncontrollably. His eyes began to roll back, and blood spewed from them, his mouth, ears, and nose. He felt each pinprick of agony as power weighed against him, pushing him down. He fell to his knees, his body limp. Something within him ripped, causing his body to bend back and stare to the sky.

And despite the pain, despite the crushing burden, his fingers held the circle.

White swirled overhead, and from it came warm light, bringing daytime to night. Hobboilen went still the moment this happened, and then it gave a loud, angry screech. A tendril snaked out from the ground to attack Jean, only to wrap around a long, golden sceptre with a pointed tip instead.

In a rush of golden feathers and the echoing sound of flapping wings, a large Elevate descended from the light. It lowered until it hovered directly over Jean's body. It wore a long white tunic with several, overlapping folds and golden armor was visible underneath. A shield the size of its own body, also wrought with gold, was attached to its left arm. Below its massive halo, it had four heads to its left, front, back, and right, and bore four, magnificent wings.

"Li pash ol Samhain," it spoke, pointing its sceptre to Hobboilen. "Niiso."

An enraged warbling sound emerged from Hobboilen and several more tentacles emerged from the ground. They shot forward towards the Elevate, and it didn't even move, simply lowering its sceptre. What seemed to be willpower alone prevented the tentacles from reaching it as they bent away and some even split in half. Retracting them, Hobboilen growled lowly, tendrils swaying angrily behind its back.

Jean lowered his head to stare towards the ground. All his energy went towards keeping his heart pumping, his lungs fluctuating. He could barely hear anything. All was garbled and ringing. Wind would cause him to sway every now and then from a blow made above him, but he didn't fall over. His trembling fingers finally fell, hand limp at his side.

Such power.

Such raw, pure power.

Sure he was going to die, he let his bleeding eyes close.

He sensed the Elevate was still above him.

He heard Celezar trying to get through to him but also sensed his mate was weak. Painfully weak. All his heart could do was make a painful throb at the realization, his eyelid flickered.

Ce...Celeza—

Gasping, he choked on his blood and once more bent back at the sudden assault to his mind, his eyes rolled into his head. It was Hobboilen. He felt the entity's presence clearly, swallowing him as the world turned to black. It was irritated.

Yet, there was also respect.

The pain slowly eased away.

The ringing stopped.

Gasping loudly, his eyes opened wide. Disoriented, the last image he witnessed came to the front of his mind, and he scrambled onto his feet while looking around.

His gaze went to the sky where light was steadily receding. The Elevate was still there, looking down at him, with not a wiry hallow in sight. He took in its appearance. For a fight with Hobboilen, he couldn't see a single injury on its form.

"Nor de Alan," it said.

He managed a nod of acknowledgement, still breathing hard. It then occurred to him that it healed him, and he exhaled a shaky breath.

"Ol ecarinu elasa ge nanaeel," it continued.

It was blessing him, as the others had, bringing a small but triumphant smile to his face.

He did it.

He succeeded in summoning a Cherubim.

It flapped its four massive wings, and he shut his good eye while shielding his face from the wind and debris that kicked up.

"Jean, can you hear me?! Ya Allah, tell me you're still alive!"

Musa's panicked voice in his ear brought him out of his stupor. Blood drained from his face as he recalled what the medic had said last.

Butch...Lucas.

Spinning, he took off, running back towards where he remembered he heard the screams—his men's screams.

Man down.

"I'm here!" he shouted, jumping onto a blue platform and soaring over the trees. "Where are you, Musa?"

He heard multiple exhales of relief.

Not a moment after this, he heard the screeching sizzle of a flare. He stopped and looked to his far left where a bright flare made a small white star in the dead of night. The light hadn't a chance to begin settling when he lowered towards a space where several other hunters had made a perimeter. Visually inspecting told him they were using the area of fallen trees as an impromptu medbay, complete with some lights in the area.

He spotted Musa immediately, and he didn't stop in his momentum from the platform once he hit the ground. He didn't have to ask for people to make way for him, as they all but made a path for him leading to the base of a tree that was all but sliced into quarters.

He came to a slow walk before a dead halt the nearer he came to the scene before him. No amount of incidents in the past could prepare him for the sight of a dead comrade, let alone one of his own men.

A strangled, agonized sound began to build up in his throat, but he kept it down while continuing his approach. As he neared, Musa and Calvin turned expressions of both relief and sorrow his way before moving aside for him to kneel beside what remained of Butch's body.

The white sheet was bloodied, and he dared to slightly lift it.

Butch was a veteran of the Lowell Hunters, having been a member since Daryll, Jean's father, was leader. He was in his twenties when Jean met him, and Jean was a young boy. He had known the man for most of his life.

To see his eyes bulging out of his head, shredded into clean slices that left him almost stringy, struck a chord within Jean's being.

Tears prickled at his eye, and he lowered the sheet while letting his head likewise drop. He murmured a prayer.

He glanced back at Musa. "And...Lucas?"

The medic solemnly shook his head. "No remains," he softly responded.

Eyes shutting, Jean shakily exhaled while his head slowly rocked side to side. He clasped his hands together, body slumping in a moment of internal, personal defeat.

There were no words for this feeling, the swarm of emotions he felt brewing within.

They won this battle at a wretched cost.

His breath hitched, and he slowly looked to the dark sky.

Two of his men's lives.

Wordlessly, he moved to his feet and gathered himself. Robin was soon to come over along with the others who had been by the water. "Does he know?" he asked Musa.

Black hair swayed, and he slowly nodded in response.

He turned around and walked aside to have a moment to himself. He wanted to ask how long he had been unconscious, but it really didn't matter.

To make the situation worse, he couldn't sense Celezar.

Warm wetness trickled from his eye, and he swallowed the desire to cry harder. No amount of "reaching out", as it were, with his senses alerted him to his mate's presence.

Was he, too...?

He covered his eyes, resting his free hand on his side, and softly sniffed.

"Goddammit," he whispered. His lip curled at the thought of what caused this. "Damn you two. Damn you."

He wished the Entity and Domien could pay for what they caused, not just in Iroquin but all over the continent. He wished he had been awake to see the fight that transpired between the Entity and the Elevate.

Apparently, no amount of inhumanity could prevent him from succumbing to the Entity's power of fear.

Lowering his hand from his face, he wiped his tears away and cleared his throat. Into his mic, he called, "Sound off, men."

"I'm here," said Robin, his voice agitated.

"Here," said Sarkis, his voice somewhat ragged. "I'm with Robin."

There was a sigh, and then, "I'm here," said Friedrich. "Gulliver and Hugh are unconscious."

"I'm with them," said Raphael.

"Here," Musa said quietly behind Jean.

There was silence.

No one else responded, bringing this to Jean's attention. "Anyone seen Nicholae and Artie?"

"Not here," said Friedrich, his voice even. "They were near the waterfront with several other missing hunters."

"Jean."

Turning to the side, Jean spotted Jermaine and Megedagik approaching. The two hunter leaders seemed to be alright, save for splatters of blood here and there. He exhaled with relief upon seeing them.

"How're your sides of things?" he asked.

Megedagik grimly shook his head. "Several of our men are missing, those who were near the waterfront."

"That was where...it was, wasn't it?" Jermaine asked in a constrained tone.

Looking at him, Jean could see his friend wasn't doing well with the loss of so many comrades. He nodded at the question. "Yes. I don't...I don't know where it went."

"The Elevate came," said Megedagik. He gave Jean a peculiar look, then added, "I saw it appear near you."

Jean blinked, looking between his friends. Jermaine was nodding, his grim expression turning into slight awe. "I'd...never seen an Elevate before. However it came, it made that thing leave."

"However it came," Megedagik repeated, running a hand down his chin while looking away.

Glad they weren't suspicious, Jean added, "I...don't remember anything."

Shaking his head, Megedagik placed a hand on his shoulder. "It doesn't matter, right now. It was a miracle, however it happened. We should look for our members."

Jean and Jermaine nodded, then bade each other well with a word to meet again before going their separate ways.

Several flares were rising up as hunters looked for their missing members.

Watching them, Jean came nearer to where Musa was and nodded. As the medic brought out a flare, he ordered into his mic, "Everyone, assemble. Follow the med flare. We then look for our men."

After he spoke, Musa shot the white flare into the sky. It was brighter than the others that flew overhead for all hunters to convene into their area.

"Sent."

Lowering his hand with a grimace, Jean realized he hadn't seen Madeleine yet. He took a moment to run his hands down his face before composing himself.

"Creation," he whispered while letting his head drop.

They won this battle.

This time.

In that moment, he swore to become more powerful, more proficient, with his magic.

Hobboilen and Domien would pay.

...one day.

*    *    *

The deep blue light of early morning was seeping into the sky by the time Lowell helitankers sprayed holy water over the entire area surrounding Ostego Lake. While most bodies were accounted for, the four hunter groups organized a methodical sweep through the area via helicopter, divers, and on foot for anyone else.

And anything else.

Hours had passed. Though this wasn't his longest time away from home because of a hunt by a longshot, Jean felt terribly exhausted. He knew why, he only loathed to admit it.

He sat with clenched teeth near Butch's body, his ears replaying the sounds of Robin's sobs long after the younger man had stopped crying. Now, Robin simply sat nearby, his gaze distant while silent tears fell down his face.

Musa was treating his wounds, which included a nasty injury to his face he didn't seem to feel. He would be on bedrest, but he was to be on bereavement leave from this point on.

"How are you holding up?"

He glanced at and managed the pathetic beginnings of a joyless smile at his uncle. Instead of vocally answering, he only shook his head. He saw Nicholae's head bob slowly out the corner of his eye. Like him, Nicholae was sitting near Butch's body.

Nicholae and Artie, who was also being treated by Musa, were found shortly after their first sweep through the forest. Nicholae was fortunate, only sustaining minor injuries, much like Friedrich, Jean, Raphael, and Musa himself. He and Artie had been unconscious, hit badly by a certain devilspawn.

They were fortunate to be alive.

At the thought, Jean shut his eyes and felt his hands clench before him.

His uncle didn't say anything else, likely reading the atmosphere around him, and he was thankful for that.

Agitation suddenly overcame him, and he moved to stand. Manifesting a platform beneath his feet, he moved high above the trees, entering the helicopters' airspace. He could see the lights and seldom flares in the distance indicative of hunters moving through the land.

He propelled himself forward, deciding to help again.

This time, he wouldn't let his emotions get the best of him.

The reminder made his lower lip twitch, but he kept himself calm.

He still couldn't find or sense Celezar.

Life of a hunter, he found himself automatically thinking.