Life at the Cellar wasn't the same for Jean without Celezar. There was a lingering, unique sense of loneliness that made him painfully despondent. Hiding that dejection was a personal challenge, but the few times he knew for certain it slipped out, it seemed there was a sort of unsaid understanding between him and his men—some of them, anyway.

He sighed heavily to himself, trying and failing to make his thoughts leave him alone as he walked up the stairs from the barracks. It was early morning and he had finished washing up and eating for the day. While entering the anteroom, he spotted Ulrich watching television with Nicholae, Calvin, Trevor, and Raphael. His brother stood behind them as they sat at the bar counter, his arms folded and looking concerned.

Upon seeing him, Ulrich beckoned him over with his head. "You should see this, Jean."

Curious, Jean came closer, peeking at the television to watch a clip of a news report.

The screen showed a reporter standing a distance from what appeared to be a great thunderstorm behind her. Her hair whisked angrily around her face from the wind and she struggled to keep it at bay. "...has been experiencing bizarre weather patterns isolated to its direct location. All communication between Ridridge and its neighboring districts ceased several hours ago."

Brows furrowing, Jean looked at his brother. "What's going on?"

"No one can get close to the Ridridge District in Fayette, Narrapansett, so we're not sure what we're dealing with," Ulrich explained. "It's been this way since it started roughly four hours ago. At first, it didn't seem to be anything more than some sort of power failure, or something of the sort, but it's been some time now and stranger things are happening."

"Stranger how?"

Trevor turned around, a laptop in front of him on the counter. His expression was one of solemnity. "Contact was lost with some members of the Wisk Hunters that went to survey the area. In fact, their helicopter went down a few minutes ago, as if something attacked them."

Jean frowned. The Wisk Hunters were from the Northeast of the neighboring supercountry, Clovure. "Is Askuwheteau alright?"

Pursing his lips, the technician shook his head. "It was Megedagik who contacted me."

"Cree," Jean sharply swore, closing his eye. He then whispered a prayer. That was just one of many hunter deaths that had occurred since the rise in Infernal activity. Furthermore, Askuwheteau was a leader; the death toll wasn't even counting the amount of hunter members who had died.

Ulrich uncrossed his arms and began to leave the outpost. "I'll get on it."

"Be careful, Ulrich," Jean called, glancing to catch his brother wave his hand as he exited. He then moved towards the left entrance at the back of the anteroom, passing the bar. "Trev, call for the helicopter."

"On it, Boss."

Beyond the bar, accessed by two entrances, was where the armory was located. Hilde was kept there, whereas Jean carried Ringe whether he was on a hunt or not. Several vials of liquids, including holy water and rosemary extract, sat within a cabinet, and he took several to strap onto a belt he flanked across his chest and his waist. Other instruments he brought with him were his dagger Sieg, his whip Valk, and small explosives—all blessed. Lastly, he collected several magazines of extra bullets for his gun.

The sound of men entering the other room met his ears, and he called, "Raphael, Trevor, Artie, Lucas, Hugh, and Butch. To me."

The moment the words left his mouth, the aforementioned men entered the armory to gather their weapons. As he already did so, Jean left to reenter the anteroom. The rest of the men were watching the television now, though their eyes focused on him when he appeared. He approached the coatrack to don his black, hooded duster.

When he turned around, his chosen men stood at the ready, strapped for the hunt. Turning on his earpiece, he asked, "Trevor, what do we know?"

Standing with the laptop balancing on one hand, the light of the screen reflected off the technician's glasses. "Heavy and unusual fog has clouded the district and even the clouds are almost black in color. There is also a powerful thunderstorm, but it's beginning to ease off. The last thing heard from Askuwheteau's group were distress calls from the helicopter before it crashed."

Jean considered this. The clouds and fog were new. "Very well. Our job should be the usual: Infiltrate the isolated zone, locate the inhumans and obliterate them. We bring the Dragonflies with us. The inhumans might respond to them." He looked at Friedrich, who was to be in charge while he and Artie were away.

His uncle saluted with two fingers. "Creator be with you."

The sound of a helicopter nearing sounded in the air. Giving a salute back, Jean nodded, then turned around and left the outpost.

Narrapansett was considerably close to Isle Veni, their homeland. It was a neighbor of the countries Connecticut and Iroquin. They would arrive in less than fifteen minutes by helicopter.

In seconds, the helicopter was landing some distance away on the grass. The servant exited moments after landing the aircraft and moved a respectful distance away before bowing at the waist. While Jean glanced at them, he quickly cut his eyes away and opened the side door. After entering he was shortly followed by the others save for Raphael, who entered the cockpit.

As the helicopter was already running, they were in the air in moments.

The ride was smooth sailing, and Jean's eye was closed as he sat strapped in the cabin. For the first few seconds of the ride, he said soft prayers for the fallen hunters. Quiet conversation went on around him, but it was a low drone in the background.

It was hard to believe it was a week since he was attacked...

His jaw suddenly clenched. He didn't need to think about him at a time like this.

"We're here, Boss. There's something going on down there and further ahead," Raphael channeled over the radio. "I...don't know what to make of this."

Frowning, Jean leaned slightly forward to see past Raphael's chair and beyond the window. His eyes widened in surprise and awe.

Indeed, he didn't quite know what to call what he was looking at, not at first glance. Dark clouds pouring what even at a distance looked like torrential rain over the district rumbled high in the air. They were menacing, unnatural, and the grumbling of thunder was heard even from their proximity. Interestingly, lightning seemed nonexistent, but the fog was worse. Thick haze hid the district from view from the ground up. It, too, was uncanny.

"What's it look like to you, Boss?" Raphael asked.

"Possibly a hala...or hali, if we're unlucky. Possibly an angry jinn, if we're really unlucky..." Jean pursed his lips in thought.

"Want me to land?"

"Yeah. Set us down out the radius of the district."

"Sent."

The helicopter circled the area, keeping a good distance away. It allowed those within the cabin to have a clear view of the storm.

"Unreal," Lucas breathed, turned almost completely in his seat to look out the window.

Butch frowned. "Even if it was a group of hali, they're not native to this area."

Jean didn't comment, eyeing the storm as they began to land. He caught a glimpse of several red and blue lights some distance away, likely from Ulrich and his group working things out with the local officials. He wouldn't be surprised if the Wisk Hunter's envoy were also there.

"True, but hali are demons," Artie reminded, "and at this point, I wouldn't be surprised. We should assume we could be up against any sort of Infernal."

Nodding at his cousin's words, Jean tore his eye away from the window as the helicopter landed on an open grassy area beside a hill. He unstrapped himself and moved to open the right side door. His hair fluttered in his face, and he looked between blond tresses at the isolated storm in the distance.

In the early morning light, the clouds were so dark they were visibly noticeable. It set the atmosphere for what was already a dismal and somber sight of the abandoned district. Mist drizzled about the small group as they exited the helicopter to stand on the hillside overlooking the quarter. Jean moved to stand atop the hill and donned small goggles from a pocket, only for his gaze to darken. His lips moved in a silent prayer, and he lowered his head, briefly closing his eye. He then looked forward at the sight before him through night-vision, eyeing the blood and carnage left behind from what was undoubtedly an inhuman attack.

By now, several hours had passed since the last of the authorities attempted to enter the district and the result were the bodies—or what remained of them—scattered about between the distant fog and the beginnings of the quarter. The longer Jean stared into the distance, the more he realized the fog was steadily clearing up, though the rain continued to fall. That was either a good omen or a bad one. They would be foolish to imagine it was anything but bad.

He glanced back at Lucas and Butch, who were retrieving the drones while Trevor tinkered with something within the helicopter. All of the men were also wearing goggles. Three bronze, tube-like devices roughly seven diameters wide and three feet long were placed atop the hill near Jean. Trevor emerged from the helicopter with a console and monitor strapped over his shoulder, much like a front-facing backpack. It was comprised of two screens back-to-back, both displaying the same visuals.

The drones were activated from the console, and from their sides, four rust-colored legs emerged. The front domes' protective covering retracted, revealing round camera lenses. All three drones sprouted artificial wings that appeared akin to an insect's, giving them an appearance like a dragonfly. The view staring towards the horizon flickered on the screens, split in the center for Drone A at the top left, Drone B beside it, and below both was Drone C. With night vision activated, the screen showed a clear view of the lightless district.

Immediately, the Dragonflies raised off the ground, their wings beating rapidly with a low buzz. Moving aside, Jean watched them promptly dart away. He looked after them until they were out of sight, then turned around to face the back monitor. The others had already gathered nearby to watch.

Bodies upon bodies, some discernible, some unrecognizable, were visible within the district for as far as the Dragonflies could project. Dragonfly-A stayed to the main road, going in deeper until it neared what should have been livelier streets with restaurants and banks, stores, and offices. A downtown area was littered with bodies, signs of conflict and disarray every which way. Buildings had collapsed and carriages were upturned. All signs of life were gone.

Dragonfly-B went to the right of the district, showing the horrid display of carriages and cars abandoned on the streets, homes partially destroyed with people and animals alike strewn about, missing limbs and parts of their bodies eaten off. Despite the carnage, despite the horror, there was no sign of whatever monster that committed the acts.

"It's gotta be Infernal," Raphael said softly as he watched.

Jean crossed his arms. "Such senseless killing; what else could it be? It certainly isn't a hala or a jinn."

They fell silent as something flickered on Dragonfly-C's screen while it traveled through a residential area. Something very clearly snuck into a garden apartment, its body dark and indiscernible. The drone's presence was rousing some life.

Dragonfly-B's screen began to flicker and wane a bit.

"Technical difficulties?" Hugh asked.

Trevor hummed, his brows furrowing. "Shouldn't be. I worked on them recently." He tweaked some knobs. "There seems to be some sort of interference."

"Some sort of energy Infernal?" asked Lucas.

"Ah...somewhat doubtful, I think."

"Not improbable," Hugh reminded. "Remember Alastors? The bastards can possess technology."

Lucas made a face. "Well, they moved with the times, it seems," he muttered dryly.

"Gremlins, too."

"It'd be nice if we were only dealing with gremlins..." At the looks given to him, Lucas cocked a brow. "It's not like they can't get violent."

Butch gave a heavy sigh, folding his arms over his broad chest. "With this weather manipulation, do you really think it's a Gremlin?"

The younger man's brows scrunched together. "Well, no—"

They fell silent when Dragonfly-C caught sight of whatever it was within the apartments. Trevor's fingers flew over the console keys, and the view on the drone's camera zoomed in while it slowed.

Something was visible through a window, and it was moving quickly. The thing, clearly anthropomorphic, disappeared down a hall or around a corner within the apartment.

Trevor looked from the screen to Jean, wordlessly asking a question.

Jean caught the glance and responded, "There has to be at least a few inhumans in the area."

The abrupt shattering of a window startled them, and they watched as the body of a man was thrown out, only for his head to meet a concrete wall and crack open. Each of them grimaced or glowered at the screen.

"Anyone see that?" Raphael suddenly asked, staring intently. Several sets of eyes glanced at him before returning to the monitor. The hazel-yellow of his eyes flashed, and he said to Trevor, "Turn on infrared vision."

Without hesitating, the technician pressed a button, immediately displaying bright colors on a darkened background. It revealed a large, crouched figure with strong warm colors slinking backward in the darkened apartment.

"There!" Raphael pointed at the screen above the figure's head. Shortly after he said this, the figure disappeared around a corner again.

Hugh nodded, leaning back. "I saw it. Horns," he said with a scowl.

As Raphael, Trevor and Artie nodded, Jean and the others shared frowns. It was an Infernal, after all.

Trevor piloted the drone to back away from the window and turned the infrared vision off. His eyes stayed fixed on Dragonfly-B's screen. As it neared the district's eastern side, it was having even more difficulty, so he began to pull it back. "Well, whatever Infernals did this, they're being sloppy as hell," he idly commented.

"Exactly that," Jean agreed.

The technician briefly frowned before programming the second drone back to the helicopter. "Even the lowest class of Infernal in this day and age know better than to be this careless. It's almost as if they don't care what comes after them."

Artie shook his head, his arms crossing. "I don't like it. First, they let us get so close and now only one of them has shown itself...?"

Jean nodded his way, then looked back at the screen. "Could be a trap."

"What about it being some young Infernals?" Raphael asked, spinning knives between lithe, scarred fingers.

"That's almost as bad," said Butch. "Not to mention we've no idea what sort of Infernals we're dealing with."

Lucas looked between them, his eyes flickering left and right. "So, we're going in?"

Jean inclined his head a bit. "We don't have much of a choice," he said steadily, "but I'm wary." He looked at Butch, Artie, and Hugh as Raphael moved to get something within the helicopter.

Standing at the ready, Artie nodded at him. "I am too, but as you said, what choice do we have?"

"Then keep radio silence if you can help it and stick together." Jean placed a hand on his shoulder.

The three men nodded at him, checking their gear one last time. Raphael returned with three headpieces that looked almost like masks, which contained cameras at the center of their forehead, but for safety reasons, there was no light to indicate if they were on. Brushing back their hair, they donned the masks and a low hum was heard before going silent. They turned on flashlights attached to their coats before running over the hill together, going around instead of straight forward by way of the main road into the district.

Watching them, Jean whispered a soft prayer their way. He glanced back at Trevor, who was attaching the console to a larger one Lucas and Raphael took from out of the helicopter. Appearing much like a control panel, its two legs were tractors and Trevor stood at the center. After attaching the small console to its left side, a screen rose from the center. It operated the same as the other console with dual monitors.

Artie's view was on the top, with Hugh and Butch's on the left and right at the bottom, respectively. All three monitors were in infrared view. There was nothing much to see but the gore of mangled, half-eaten bodies and hanging innards scattered around what was once a lively, thriving district.

Artie led the way, and through hand gestures, he beckoned them down a path to the right. The path went through an industrial area, likely where the district's power was located. They went down the path, and all otherwise seemed as empty and barren as it could be.

For several long minutes, they traversed the district, finding a small, open train station that had been mostly destroyed, bodies strewn about chaotically and smoking trains upturned off the tracks. There was nothing of interest there, and so they continued. Through empty streets, they came upon what was once a house of worship, completely obliterated to pieces; it could only be identified by the pieces left behind, which included several religious books, and by the clothes worn on what remained of the bodies.

Another stretch of silence and inactivity passed. Lifting his hand in a fist and rotating it, Artie told Hugh and Butch to retreat the way they came. There was nothing toward what was leaving the district from the right. And if there was, they weren't showing their presence.

The lack of activity was steadily making Jean antsy. By now, at least one Infernal would have attacked them. It was strange enough that they had been allowed into the district without a fight when the group just before them was instantly killed. It did not bode well.

Eventually, the men decided to travel to the residential area where the apartment complex was. The moment they neared the street parallel to the field, it was evident by watching that they started to become uneasy. They were looking around more, looking at each other, realizing the other was just as perturbed, and their expressions were becoming more and more agitated.

"Something's wrong," said Raphael, his fingers still.

It wasn't just Jean; all of them seemed to be feeling anxious about the lack of movement. Trevor and Lucas murmured agreements. But there was nothing visible that could be causing the men's unease.

"They must be close to the Infernals?" Lucas questioned as he looked at Jean.

"Yeah, but what sort of Infernal makes a human so nervous?" Jean asked, more to himself than to anyone else.

"Their amulets should protect them, though, right?" the brunet asked again.

"Should," Trevor murmured.

Jean's eye narrowed and he shifted on his feet. If their anxiety was caused by some outside source, a talisman should nullify it.

Suddenly, all three screens froze as the men simultaneously went still. Artie turned to Hugh and quickly raised four fingers into a 'v' and motioned forward, indicating an inhuman was up ahead. From Artie's view, Hugh and Butch nodded. All three men turned to look towards one of the apartments, which had a trail of blood leading to it on the ground.

They remained frozen for a moment, staring at the blood. The same thought seemed to pass through their minds when they suddenly moved in unison. Artie signaled he was going to turn back, taking a spray can out of a pocket, and Hugh and Butch nodded swiftly at him, urging him to move faster.

Jean leaned forward, brows furrowed with concern. "What's going on? Why's Artie about to make a sigil?" he muttered, just loud enough to be heard.

"Boss...BOSS..."

He quickly looked at Lucas, who had been tapping his arm, only to see he and Raphael were staring off at something away from them towards the district. Bracing himself, Jean looked to his left, only to blanch.

A cloud of dense fog moved towards the direction Hugh, Artie and Butch were in. It was moving as if some force was pulling or pushing it or willing it to move at five miles per hour. It was horribly unnatural, but that wasn't the worst bit. Jean's lips slowly parted as he spotted a slender and undulating figure several stories high through the mist, its outline and the silhouettes of tendrils emerging from its back the only thing visible as it moved. It was picking up speed along with the fog, its long, spider-like legs taking such slow paces, yet they were so wide, it didn't matter.

Jean trusted his sixth sense. It was screaming something to him, loud and clear.

Whatever this thing was, his men didn't stand a chance.

Onscreen, something was happening. Sudden shouts emitted from the men, and Jean looked back to see something had emerged from a window of the apartment, coming towards the men on all fours. They immediately opened fire, but that did nothing to prevent it from coming closer as it landed on the ground. The cameras became shaky as they began to run back, but Artie was further ahead, spraying on the ground.

From what was seen before the men started running, the thing that emerged from the house was a tall, blackish demon-like creature with long, curved horns protruding upwards on its head. However, its body was misshapen by its noticeably distended middle.

"Boss, the fog is almost at them!" said Raphael.

Jean shook himself out of his stupor. "Men! Fall back!" he ordered. "NOW! There's something coming your way!"

"I'm on it, I'm on it!" said Artie, continuing to spray symbols contained within a circle on the ground.

"It's coming!" Hugh shouted, facing the direction of the demon that was nearly upon them.

He unsheathed his sword, and just as it lunged, he stabbed it in the chest while Butch attacked its neck with a swing. It didn't cry out, but snarled, gnashing needle-like teeth from a gaping, bleeding mouth. The strikes did little but somehow managed to halt it.

Before it could overwhelm them, Artie quickly raised his free hand and made a circle in the air before pressing his palm into the center. This expelled a force that propelled the demon back by a few feet while also emitting a bright light. Disoriented, the demon shook its head, covering its eyes.

At the same time, seeing the demon in a more motionless position allowed them to take in the entirety of its details.

The supposed "demon" had digitigrade legs...hooved feet...a spiked, spaded tail...the horns...

"That thing's a fucking DEVIL!" Jean exclaimed in a practical sputter of disbelief and horror.

"What in the name of...!"

From Hugh's view, he was looking up and saw the same inhumanly tall figure—at least three stories high—appear from out of the fog directly behind the apartment complex. The cameras fizzed and waned horribly, then died in seconds. Audio was still on through their static-filled intercoms, transmitting chaos.

"ARTIE!" shouted Butch.

"Get over here!" Artie called, and then all that was heard was a loud CRACK.

"What the fuck is going on?!" Jean demanded, moving away from the helicopter to face the direction of the district. "Artie? Butch? Hugh?!"

Suddenly, not ten feet from him, all three men appeared from the same symbol that Artie had been spraying on the ground. They immediately collapsed, unconscious.

Jean, Raphael and Lucas ran over, only to hear Trevor's horrified, strangled gasp behind them.

"B-Boss...! Boss, that thing is coming back!" he shouted.

Jean looked up and over at the black, harvestman-like being approaching from the direction of the road. It was the same creature that had been at least five, seven miles into the district. It crawled towards them on several limbs with more tendrils twitching angrily behind its back. Its oval-shaped face was paler than its body, and even over the distance, the gaping maw of black, razor-sharp teeth glistened in the nearby light of early morning.

A horrible, sickening chill of fear ran through Jean's body, but he raised his hands. He made a quick symbol in the air and incanted softly, causing a large white barrier to erect above them. It reached far, enough for them to take their fallen comrades and it even engulfed the helicopter. Fast as the approaching creature was, it seemed to take its time upon seeing this. Jean could sense its intelligence. It was watching him. Observing him.

And it was intrigued.

Shivers ran down his spine. He glanced back to see Lucas moving Artie into the helicopter. Trevor had Hugh and Raphael had Butch and were doing the same. Raw panic was attempting to overwhelm Jean's mind, a sensation he hadn't felt in many years. This was unlike anything they had experienced before.

He froze momentarily as the creature moved to stand to its full towering height, and its featureless head tilted to the side before the barrier shattered without so much as a warning. The moment it did, while shaken, Jean quickly pressed his index, thumbs and small finger together before touching them multiple times in different positions, weaving magic at the center where his fingers created a triangle. He then grabbed the energy in his hands and held them out at his sides, holding large orbs of white light in his palms. Letting the energy linger in the air, he pumped his arms back, causing the lights to spark brightly.

Not letting the creature so much as consider a move, he tapped his fingers in the air, and the lights reacted, letting out beams of light to the specific spots on the creature's body. They were dodged when the creature's body swayed like a tree limb in the wind. Not a second later it emitted a loud, echoic hiss as the attacks returned to hit it from behind. It jolted forward, then raised its facsimile of a head, staring at him with unseen eyes.

In that moment, Jean felt all the magic he had cancel out. The orbs disappeared in a blink of an eye, taking their attacks with them, and he suddenly felt lethargic, weakened, and sick. Throwing himself to the grass, he heaved before vomiting violently. From the sounds he heard behind him, he wasn't alone. It was excruciating, his mind swam with incoherence. His vision blurred. He felt liquid pouring down his face from his eye and ears. He tasted blood in his mouth.

He was dying.

He knew what it felt like to die. Suddenly, it all came back to him, and his scar felt alight with fire as pain seared through him. Screaming, he blearily looked up at the creature that was just a few feet from him, and his vision warped, making the tree-like creature seem even more horrifying, even as it lacked any and all features—all but that gaping, toothy maw.

And fear.

Every inch of his body demanded for him to flee, to bow die and die, to curl up and wither away, to stop existing.

"JEAN!"

Choking on bloody vomit, Jean's eye began to roll into his head. The voice was familiar, but it only registered to his conscious mind for a second. The world began to fade and fizzle. Sounds became garbled and watery. He could feel his mind eaten away by fear, causing him to drool. It was a fear unlike anything he ever felt in his existence. It was a demanding fear. He had to be afraid.

He had no choice but to fear.

Abruptly, the ground shook like an earthquake around him. Slowly, his mind was repaired; it was as if someone was in his head, reattaching and sewing together his broken wires. Blinking blearily, he made out the form of a creature standing above him that shrieked lividly at the willowy one. The sound alone should have killed him from his close proximity...but it didn't.

Softly, he babbled a familiar name, only to collapse backwards onto the grass. He knew who this new creature was. Tears rolled down his face. Everything was numb and cold, treacherous.

Then, there was nothing.