Saros looked at the Vanguardian who had just cut his arm off. He looked around the room of the fortress. He took note of the assemblage of Vanguard, the Order, and the Pantheon. He noticed none of the demons or Annunaki forces.
Saros decided now was not the time to fight. He began to lower his weapon. As he did so, he felt a burning sensation in his stomach. Tendrils of smoke began to rise up from his body and curl in the air. Saros doubled over in pain just his physical form burst into flames.
"What the. . ." "EEWWWW!!!" "Smells like. . ." "Who. . ." "Bates!" "Don't be ridiculous. . ."
The Naecken, Lord Kwaiziel, self styled Prince of Hell strode forth from the shadows. Hellfire surrounding his outstretched arms, his hand having regrown. He looked over at the swiftly burning form of Saros with contempt. "I never liked him. Though he was useful, for a time."
"So many friends come to play with Naecken. . .Can it be? The Prophet? In the flesh, this time? Well then, who wants to go first?" the demon asked the assemblage.
Grimm looked over at Turkish. Though he had no visible way of making an expression, Turkish could sense that he was saying, Go, this is my fight.
Grimm stepped up to the demon lord. "I'll face you. One on one. But let them leave the fortress."
"Ahhh, Grimm. Do you know that just this morning, someone asked me to kill you?" Kwaiziel smirked. "Very well, you may leave," Naecken addressed the group. "But when I am done with him, I will come for each of you."
As the assembled forces filed out, Naecken yelled out, "I WILL PICK MY TEETH WITH YOUR BONES, PROPHET!"
In the empty fortress of ice, Naecken and Grimm stood silent, glaring at each other. "So. . ." Naecken began.
"So. . ." Grimm answered. Grimm received a mental all clear from Rose Biggles on the telepathic link. He glared at the being before him.
"Your move, hero. . ." the word slithered off of Naecken's forked tongue with a hiss.
Grimm reared back with his axe and brought it down full force on the floor of the ice palace! The floor erupted and shattered as tendrils of blue energy snaked out of Grimm's axe and along the walls and floors cracks filed up and down, Naecken's fortress begam crumbling under it's own immense weight. . .
