In the higher planes, reality folded open like pages in a book.
Astrael stood in a realm untouched by mortal chaos—a spiraling cathedral of knowledge carved from light and silence. The Inner Library.
Each aisle spun infinitely into white void. Books flew themselves open, scrolls unwound mid-air. Glyphs swam in the air like jellyfish made of thought. Her eyes glowed bright gold, scanning ancient text at impossible speed.
"K'Harazak," she whispered again, lips tight.
The library shuddered.
Books flipped themselves open by will, reacting like an immune system detecting a virus. Sigils hissed. One tome flared in her hands, aged leather burning her gloves.
Astrael narrowed her eyes, reading fast.
> "Entity of unformed hunger. A Desire Echo. It forms when desperation collapses into chaos—when someone wishes so hard reality folds and something else hears. It is not summoned—it arrives. Hostile. Curious. Devours families to wear their shape…"
She paused.
Daniel's voice cut in telepathically, raw and pissed.
"This a bedtime story, or we getting to the fucking point?"
Down on Earth, chaos ruled.
K'Harazak's form tore across asphalt, its little-girl shell peeling apart like wet wallpaper, revealing something raw and unholy beneath—a writhing mess of antlers, infant limbs, and too many mouths.
It didn't just move—it glitched. A skip in the reel of the world. One step and it crossed a block.
And it was killing.
Pedestrians blinked, screamed, dropped. Their hearts imploding from the inside. She didn't even touch them.
Daniel flickered around it in ghost-form, trying to lead it away. Still unseen, but his powers weren't slowing it down.
Astrael flipped through the tome, breath sharp.
"Wait—weakness. It has a reaction to certain metals… not holy silver, not iron—"
"Is it fucking silver?" Daniel snapped, launching a manhole cover into the thing's chest with telekinetic force.
"No. Bronze." Astrael's eyes widened. "Specifically, cursed bronze—ancient, ceremonial. The kind once used by death cults to bind gods."
Daniel dropped from the air, phasing through a cab and landing on his feet.
"I've got bronze in my pocket like it's spare change, angel."
"Wait—there's more. It must be inscribed with its true name—K'Harazak. That's the only way to trap it, to seal it inside itself."
Daniel ducked as a limb sliced a fire hydrant in half, spraying water through the air.
"Let me guess—you got a fucking bronze nameplate just lying around?"
"No. But we can make one."
Daniel cursed under his breath. He ghosted back behind a crashed bus, looked at his hand—and focused.
God's perk. The power to create any weapon or tool necessary for the mission.
"Alright…" he said through gritted teeth, hand glowing faint white.
"Time to get creative."
As the eldritch horror slithered around the corner—its laugh now layered in three voices, all broken and high-pitched—Daniel began forging a curved bronze blade in his palm, already engraving the letters:
K. H. A. R. A. Z. A. K.
It glowed ugly red, like a brand made for gods.
And this time, he was going to carve that name into her fucking soul.
The bronze dagger pulsed in Daniel's grip, hot and heavy like it remembered war. The name K'Harazak glowed along the blade in red-hot divine script, etching itself deeper with every second he held it.
But the creature wasn't giving him the easy way out.
K'Harazak stalked the city streets now—twisted limbs dragging and twitching, the girl's form sloughing off in grotesque chunks. Her laughter echoed like a choir of dead things, skipping with broken rhythms, so beautiful, so beautiful, so—
Daniel didn't wait for her to finish. He phased through a wall and reappeared in front of her mid-sprint, back in human form—visible, vulnerable, bait.
"Hey, you freakshow babysitter from hell," he snarled, voice like flint. "Come play with someone your own depth."
She turned—instantly. That smile splitting her face wider than it should have. The girl's eyes were long gone, replaced by black pits swirling with tiny screaming mouths.
"Found you…" she whispered.
Daniel bolted.
Ghost-form might've given him stealth, but now he needed attention. He led her across the street, through alleyways, smashing windows, screaming obscenities, throwing bricks—anything to keep her chasing him, not the panicking civilians behind.
He led her to the construction yard near the river. Isolated. Plenty of metal. No humans. Just him, the thing wearing a child's skin, and a weapon with its name carved into fate.
The moment she stepped into the yard, he turned and charged.
The creature reacted too slowly—used to being feared, not fought.
Daniel slid low under a flailing limb, sprang up, and drove the bronze dagger into her ribcage with all his weight behind it.
It sank deep. The name burned.
K'Harazak shrieked.
Reality shook. Glass shattered. Streetlights blew out two blocks away.
Her form began to crack, leaking black sludge and light. The girl's body thrashed and screamed—her mouth stretching too wide, her arms convulsing as they broke and reformed.
Still alive. Still talking.
"You don't understand…" she hissed through bleeding teeth.
"I was only the first scream. The infant desire made flesh."
Daniel didn't stop pushing the blade deeper.
"And that's all you'll ever be."
She grabbed his arm with fingers that twisted into bone chains. "The child will return… not her. Not me. Something older than wishing. Something still asleep. You've made noise, cop-between-worlds."
Daniel's eyes narrowed.
"Good. Let it come."
Then with a final twist, the dagger lit up. The name seared itself into what remained of her form—and the creature burst into nothing but smoke, screams, and silence.
The yard went still.
Only the sound of sirens far away.
Daniel stood there, blood on his shirt, cuts on his arms, breathing hard.
Then his comm crackled.
Astrael's voice, calm as ever.
"Containment successful?"
"Yeah," he said, wiping ichor off the blade. "But you and me? We're gonna have a long talk about how many of these things are crawling around."