"Throughout human history, actual cases of possession by demons are rare. Compared to the time-consuming process of spiritual possession, directly descending onto the material plane is a far more efficient way for demons to achieve their goals. Typically, when a demon identifies a person to corrupt or possess, it spends an enormous amount of time on them to ensure that person falls into Hell, becoming another soul in its collection—like your mother. So, most so-called demonic possession cases in church archives are utter nonsense. But this… this is something I've never encountered before."
Under the cold white light reflected by the polished metal desk, Solomon carefully examined the inner structure of the cyclopean skull. With the lamp shining through, he could clearly see the back of the dark, alien skull. Despite coating its surface with demonic blood—some from Mephisto's progeny and some from Marduk's offspring—the grotesque flesh and bulging yellow eyeball he was expecting remained absent. Even pressing his eye against the scratch-ridden eye socket, Solomon could only see his own fingers entering through the skull's jaw.
"Is there anything you haven't seen?" Solomon's low muttering piqued Anna's curiosity. "I thought you knew everything."
"Not everything." Solomon smacked his lips and placed the alien skull on the table. "Why else would I be giving you a crash course on lower-plane entities? By the way, where's that special contract I asked you and Damon to sign?"
"Here." Anna squinted as she retrieved two pieces of parchment from a wooden drawer behind her. She shook the parchments, filled with black text, in her hand. "This is what you wanted." She grinned slyly, her fox-like eyes narrowing as though the demonic blood in her veins had been stirred. "Too bad for you, I can read Latin. The contract is perpetual, and the most glaring clause says that summoning entities from the lower planes to the material plane constitutes a breach. Care to explain what you're up to, Solomon?"
"I'm coercing you." Solomon bluntly stated, securing the prototype rocket gun at his waist and pointing its barrel straight at Anna. The smell of gunpowder seemed to waft from the weapon. "Sign, or die. That's the deal every cambion has taken. As your demonic lineage awakens over time, it's inevitable that you'll gain the ability to summon. I need you to sign this contract, which allows summoning but forbids 'calling.'"
"What's the difference?"
"There's a distinction," Solomon's tone brightened as he explained, "and it's the reason the witch clan survives while the sages have perished. Both Bayonetta and Jeanne signed similar contracts. Summoned creatures can only stay temporarily, while called entities can permanently exist here and even bring their subordinates to the material plane. For example, this skull—it's the result of a 'calling' that died in the material plane. Nowadays, it's rare to find the remains of lower-plane entities killed in the material plane. In the past, their bones and skins would often be made into magical artifacts by certain wizards."
The rocket gun in Solomon's hand remained steady, his finger hovering over the trigger. His previously cheerful tone vanished.
"You'd better sign the contract," he said coldly. "I'm sorry it has to be this way."
"I'll sign it, don't get so tense. Ugh, you men are always so emotional." Anna shot Solomon a glare, her expression resembling someone punched in the gut. "After this is over, I'll make Damon sign as well."
"Good. Now back to this skull." Solomon holstered his rocket gun once Anna had written her name on the parchment. He returned to teaching Anna.
"When lower-plane entities are killed in this dimension, they are reborn in their respective planes: demons in the Abyss, devils in Hell, angels in Heaven. That's why, after Kamar-Taj was established, we usually kill them in their native planes so they die permanently," Solomon explained. "This skull likely belongs to a lower-plane entity killed in the material plane. The question is, whose remains are these? I can't determine it from the skull's shape, because lower-plane entities have countless forms."
"No standard shapes?"
"Not really, ma'am. Devils tend to follow certain patterns in appearance, but demons are wildly variable. They don't care about looks, whether they're incubi or succubi." Solomon turned to Anna. "Do you know a carbon-dating lab?"
"I already had it tested. The skull is over 2,000 years old, but it was found in an underground crypt here in the U.S. Alongside it were the rest of its body and a book filled with blasphemous writings."
"Then it's likely the remains were transported here later. I'll need to investigate the spread of European demon-worshipping cults in America. This might be a leftover from a Kamar-Taj purge," Solomon said. "Two thousand years is enough time for it to respawn and seek revenge. I suspect your father—excuse me, Marduk—is somehow involved."
"What about my partner?" Anna pointed to a man tied to a chair. His once-neat suit was now wrinkled, and his eyes were wild with panic. Sweat poured from his forehead as he mumbled incoherently, phrases like "It's speaking to me" and "It needs souls" spilling out before Anna gagged him. His lips were raw and bitten.
"This thing is pure evil." Anna glanced worriedly at her partner. "The skull bit him somehow, and now he's bewitched. I want you to exorcise him."
"He's not possessed, Anna." Solomon glanced at the bound Asian man before returning to his work. From his dimensional pouch, he pulled out a vial of potion and used it to cleanse the demonic blood off the skull. Then, he applied a single drop from another vial onto the skull's surface. "If this thing truly has power, the best solution is to destroy it."
"With what?"
Solomon nodded toward the skull. Anna watched as faint, nearly invisible wisps of black smoke seeped out through the skull's crevices. She heard faint whispers and screams. The metal table beneath the skull began to tremble as Solomon pressed his palm against its crown. Diamond dust, shimmering like flowing water, seeped into the skull's structure.
The Archmage began chanting an incantation. His voice reverberated like rolling thunder, layered with harmonics. It sounded as if thousands of voices were singing in unison. The vibrations made the gray ceiling and cold, sterile lampshades of the basement tremble.
Anna retreated, pulling her partner away from the brilliant white light emanating from Solomon. As the light intensified, her partner visibly calmed. The alien skull's screams grew louder, mixing with the celestial chorus. The overwhelming positive energy radiating from Solomon's being filled Anna with an inexplicable loathing toward the skull's suffering—a hatred she knew stemmed from her demonic blood.
She told herself it was the demon blood.
After a long while, the chorus faded, and the divine glow in Solomon's eyes dissipated. Anna noticed her partner had passed out.
"Don't worry," Solomon said as he packed up his tools and potions from the table. "When mortals are subjected to such intense enchantments, it usually leaves an impression on their souls. But it's fine. A good sleep will fix him. Now, we still have to head to Portland."
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