The rain had finally subsided, leaving the streets of New Dresden slick and glistening under the streetlights. The night air was thick with tension, an almost palpable sense of foreboding hanging over the city. Leon and Sara stopped on a busy street for a while when Sara's phone rang, its shrill tone breaking the uneasy silence.
Sara glanced at the screen, her face tightening with reluctance. It was Mike.
"Not now," she muttered, but the urgency in Mike's voice on the other end was unmistakable. "Sara, you need to come. There's been another murder. It's bad—really bad."
Sara's heart sank as she heard the gravity in Mike's tone. She looked at Leon, who was already moving toward the door. "Looks like we're going."
"Azrael, where the hell are you? I lost count on my timer. Damn it, what is Azrael planning? My time keeps running out. I feel the burn on my chest. I need to Level up." Leon thought to himself.
They made their way through the rain-soaked streets, their footsteps echoing in the quiet night. The city felt oddly hushed, the usual cacophony of urban life subdued, as though holding its breath in anticipation of what was to come.
When they arrived at the crime scene, the scene was starkly reminiscent of a grim ritual. Police lights flashed rhythmically, casting eerie shadows on the surrounding buildings. The area was cordoned off with yellow tape, and a small crowd of onlookers had gathered at a safe distance, their murmurs mingling with the occasional distant siren.
Sara and Leon pushed through the barrier of officers, flashing the badge of Sara to gain entry. The air was filled with the acrid smell of rain-soaked asphalt and the unmistakable tang of fear. The crime scene was set in a narrow alley, where the body lay shrouded under a white sheet, a stark contrast against the dark, rain-slicked ground.
Mike was standing at the periphery of the scene, his face grim. "Glad you could make it, but what the hell is this Shit show doing here?" he said, his voice angry.
Sara barely acknowledged him "I need him Mike, don't start with me tonight whe have more important things to do".
Mike gave an understanding expression. Sara's attention immediately drew to the body. The sheet had been partially pulled back, revealing a grotesque scene beneath. The victim, once a normal and innocent person, was now a chilling testament to the Conjurer's twisted methods.
"What the hell happened?" Sara asked, her voice low and tense.
Mike glanced around, ensuring no one was listening. "It's worse than before. The victim left a message—just like the last one."
Leon crouched down, examining the area with a practiced eye. The body was surrounded by symbols, drawn in blood on the wet pavement. The note left beside the victim was drenched but still readable.
Leon picked it up with gloves a CSI gave him, his face hardening as he read aloud:
"To those who dare to interfere, know that the end is but a breath away. The Conjurer sees all, and your efforts will be in vain. Fear the coming darkness, feet the summoning, fear the Riders, for it will consume all. - The Conjurer"
The note's cold, taunting tone sent a shiver down Sara's spine. "He's playing games with us. He's not just killing—he's sending a message."
Leon's eyes narrowed. "This isn't just about instilling fear. He's setting the stage for something larger. We need to understand what he's planning."
The scene was suffused with an eerie stillness, the rain having turned to a light mist that hung in the air like a shroud. The shadows seemed to press in closer, creating an oppressive atmosphere that mirrored the growing sense of dread.
Sara scanned the scene, her eyes catching on something unusual near the wall of the alley. It was a series of faint, intricate markings that hadn't been noticed before. "These symbols… They're not random. They're part of a ritual."
Leon studied the symbols closely. "We need to find out more about these. They could be the key to understanding the Conjurer's next move."
Mike nodded, his face etched with concern. "I'll get the forensics team to analyze these markings. In the meantime, you two should dig into the Conjurer's past—anything that could explain why he's targeting these people and what these symbols might signify."
"Mike, do not call the forensics and close the door. Please Mike, please trust me this time." Sara demanded
The room was cold, the air thick with the unsettling scent of decay, as Sara, Leon, and Mike stood in the dim light of the crime scene. Mike was visibly uneasy, his hands twitching as if itching to leave, but Sara's presence anchored him.
"You don't have to stay," Mike said, his voice tight. "This isn't your fight."
Sara shook her head, stepping closer, her eyes locked on the strange symbols etched into the walls. "I'm staying," she said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument. "You need to trust me, Mike. Whatever's happening here, I'm a part of it now. I can't walk away, and neither should you."
Mike hesitated, his eyes flickering to Leon, who was standing in front of the wall of symbols, his hands tracing the strange markings. "You don't know what you're getting into, Sara. These things, they're dangerous. We need to—"
"Bear with me, Mike," Sara cut him off, her voice softer now, but no less determined. She placed a hand on his arm. "I need you to trust me. This goes beyond just the investigation. There's something...something I feel drawn to. I know it sounds crazy, but I have to see this through."
Mike clenched his jaw but nodded. "Alright," he said after a moment, stepping back toward the door. "But I'm locking this place down. No one in or out. We're in this together now."
He moved to the entrance, closing the heavy door behind them with a metallic clang that echoed ominously in the silence of the room. Now it was just the three of them.
As the door sealed them in, Leon stepped closer to the symbols. His fingers hovered over the markings, his brow furrowed in concentration. "These aren't just random," he muttered, his voice distant as if speaking more to himself than the others. "They're a ritual… something ancient."
Sara took a step forward, her eyes narrowing at the strange markings. "A ritual? What kind?"
Leon didn't answer immediately. His eyes were fixed on the symbols, his breath slowing as he raised his hands, beginning to trace invisible lines in the air. "I'm going to reveal their purpose," he said, his voice steady but low. "But be ready. Magic this old has... unintended consequences."
Mike tensed, "What the hell is this trick Graves? Do not tamper with the crime scene!" instinctively reaching for his weapon, though deep down, he knew it would be useless now that at first hand he is seeing Leon Graves The Exorcist is real and not the Party Magician and Con Artists he was branded by the non believers.
Whatever they were dealing with. Sara remained calm, but her eyes flickered with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.
Leon began chanting softly, the air around them growing heavy with power as his words intertwined with the arcane symbols on the walls. The markings started to glow, faint at first, but then they pulsed with a sickly green light, illuminating the room in an unnatural glow.
Just as the energy began to surge, a figure materialized in the center of the room — Azrael, an Angel of Death, his presence commanding and cold. His hollow eyes locked onto Leon.
"Stop, Leon!" Azrael's voice was deep, echoing through the chamber like a thunderclap. "You do not understand the power you are tampering with. It's a trap!"
But it was too late. As Leon finished his spell, the markings on the walls flared to life, and a deep, guttural sound filled the air. The summoning spell had been activated.
The room trembled as the air around them grew thick with malevolent energy. From the shadows cast by the glowing symbols, grotesque shapes began to form, their bodies twisting and writhing as they emerged from the walls. Dark creatures, summoned by the ritual etched in the walls, their skin like obsidian, eyes burning with an unnatural fire, advanced toward Leon.
Leon staggered back, the realization of his mistake dawning too late. His spell had triggered the summoning—he had unwittingly unleashed the conjurer's plan. The creatures lunged for him, moving with unnatural speed and grace.
Sara stepped forward instinctively, her hand reaching for Leon. "Leon, get back!" she shouted, her voice cutting through the chaos.
But Leon, his hands still crackling with residual magic, was already locked in a desperate struggle. His eyes flashed with determination as he threw his hands out, casting another spell to ward off the creatures. A barrier of light formed around him, but the creatures slammed against it with terrifying force, their claws scraping against the magical shield.
Azrael watched from the side, his face impassive but his presence charged with power. "This is only the beginning," he said, his voice cold. "You've opened the doorway to something much darker."
Mike, his gun raised uselessly, looked to Sara. "What now?"
The creatures surged from the walls, their twisted forms becoming more defined as they broke free from the shadowy cracks. Their glowing eyes, burning with malevolence, locked onto Leon, Sara, and Mike. The oppressive weight of the dark energy filling the room made it feel as though the very air was poisoned. Time seemed to slow as the creatures circled, their movements a twisted, predatory dance.
Leon's barrier of light flickered under the relentless assault. Each time the creatures struck, the shield shuddered, the glow dimming with each impact. Sweat dripped down Leon's brow, his chest heaving with the effort to maintain the spell.
"I can't hold this much longer!" Leon's voice was tight with strain, his arms shaking under the pressure.
Azrael remained still, his eyes watching the scene unfold without a hint of emotion. His form, cold and otherworldly, loomed like a silent witness. "This is beyond my intervention," he said, his voice cold. "You have set events in motion that cannot be undone easily. You must face the consequences of your choices."
Mike, his face pale, clutched his gun uselessly in his hands. His knuckles were white, his breath shallow as he watched the creatures claw at Leon's weakening shield. "What the hell do we do now?" he whispered, barely able to keep his voice steady. "We're trapped!"
The creatures screeched, slamming against the barrier with renewed fury. Leon's breathing grew more labored, and he felt his strength slipping away. The earlier summoning had drained him, and now, facing the backlash of the dark ritual, his energy was almost spent.
"I need... more power," Leon muttered through gritted teeth. His chest burned with a familiar, searing pain that had been growing ever since the ritual. But now it feels different. The heat intensified, spreading like wildfire through his veins.
Azrael stepped forward, his voice low but resonant. "There are forces at work here, Leon. Dark forces that have already marked you. The Conjurer has laid his trap, and you walked straight into it."
Leon's eyes widened. He could feel something stirring inside him—something ancient and dangerous. It was as though a part of the darkness he fought against had been implanted within him during the ritual. The Conjurer had been planning this all along.
Azrael's gaze darkened. "You were not prepared for this. The Conjurer's magic is unlike anything you've faced before. His power comes from a place older than time, a place you do not yet understand."
Leon's heart pounded in his chest. He could feel the truth of Azrael's words. The Conjurer wasn't just some rogue mage—he was part of something much larger, something far more dangerous. And now, Leon was caught in the middle of it.
The barrier cracked under the pressure of the creatures' relentless assault. A fissure of light split down the center, and Leon staggered, barely able to keep his feet. Sara reached out to steady him, her eyes wide with fear.
"Leon, you have to stop them," she whispered, her voice trembling. "There has to be something you can do."
Leon's mind raced. He had fought creatures of darkness before, banished spirits and closed portals. But this—this was different. The Conjurer had fused his magic with something ancient, something primal. If Leon was going to survive, he needed to tap into whatever power was building inside him.
"I can feel it," Leon whispered, his voice hoarse. "There's something... something inside me. The Conjurer must have done something during the ritual."
Azrael nodded slowly. "The ritual was a trap to infect you with the same darkness he wields. He is preparing you for something far worse."
Leon clenched his fists, his body trembling as the burning inside him grew fiercer. He could feel the dark magic twisting through his veins, threatening to overwhelm him. But he refused to give in. He wouldn't let the Conjurer win.
The creatures howled, their claws digging into the barrier as they prepared to break through. Time was running out.
With a deep breath, Leon made a decision. He couldn't fight this with sheer strength. He had to outmaneuver it.
"Azrael," Leon said, his voice steadier now. "You said the Conjurer marked me. But that also means I'm connected to his power, right? I can use it against him."
Azrael's hollow eyes gleamed with the faintest hint of approval. "The System I have granted you may have a connection to the Conjurer. That was why I was gone for a while, I investigated and asked questions to beings humans cannot talk to. But it is a dangerous path, Leon. The line between using that power and being consumed by it is razor-thin."
Leon's hands shook, but he nodded. "I don't have a choice."
He focused inward, closing his eyes as he reached for the dark energy coursing through his veins. It was wild and chaotic, but he could feel its rhythm—feel its connection to the creatures, to the symbols on the wall, to the Conjurer himself. It was all part of a twisted web of power, and now, for better or worse, Leon was entangled in it.
The creatures surged forward again, their claws piercing through the barrier. But just as they prepared to lunge, Leon opened his eyes. The burning sensation in his chest flared, and with it, a surge of dark energy exploded outward from him.
The creatures recoiled, their bodies twisting in pain as the wave of energy slammed into them. Their screams echoed through the room as they were ripped apart by the force of Leon's magic, dissolving into nothingness.
The room fell deathly silent. The air was thick with the aftermath of the battle, the scent of smoke and ozone lingering in the air. The markings on the wall had dimmed, their power spent.
Leon staggered, his legs barely holding him up as the dark energy receded. He felt drained, hollow, but alive. Sara rushed to his side, her face pale but relieved.
"You did it," she whispered, her voice filled with awe. "You stopped them."
Leon nodded weakly, but his mind was still reeling. He had tapped into the same dark power the Conjurer wielded. And though he had survived, he could feel the darkness still lingering inside him, like a shadow waiting to strike.
Azrael stepped forward, his form towering over them. "You have survived—for now," he said, his tone grave. "But this is only the beginning. The Conjurer's plan is unfolding, and you are at the center of it."
Leon looked up, meeting Azrael's gaze. "What do I do now?"
Azrael's expression was unreadable, but his voice carried a weight that chilled Leon to the bone. "You must prepare, Leon. The Conjurer's game is far from over. And the next time you face him, the darkness inside you will not be so easily controlled. You must learn how to control the System, I will teach you to level up. Now that the Conjurer has marked you you must first learn how to dispel, learn defensive spells first."
With that, Azrael's form began to fade, his presence leaving the room as suddenly as he had appeared. The oppressive atmosphere lifted, but the weight of his words remained heavy.
As the rain began to fall once more outside, a soft pattern against the windows, Leon stood in the center of the room, shaken but resolute.
New Dresden would not survive what was coming unless he could find a way to control the darkness within.