The journey to the Keeper's fortress was uneventful. Hunter's worries consumed him while his grandparents kept up a constant stream of inane chatter directed toward the pilfer. Of course, the demon ignored them, but that didn't stop them from filling the air with empty words.

When the fortress came into view, both of the tiefling's jaws dropped in awe. Hunter was already used to the sight and only felt a general sense of foreboding. It was the fortress where all of his actions in the Rift would come to a head. Every step was heavy, and every breathe felt like it took twice as much effort as before. His chest felt tight, and his head felt light.

What's happening to me?

You're experiencing the thrill of the hunt, manling. Don't let it consume you. You need to keep your head clear and focus only on what matters. I'm here.

Right. Focus on only the immediate future. Got it.

Hunter imagined that his emotions were the winds of a hurricane. They were all around him, but he was in the center. There was peace in the center. There was calm in the center. No matter how the winds blew around him, he remained firm. He was the Progenitor of the Black Wind. He didn't let the air control him; he controlled it.

The mental exercise helped. Hunter barely noticed when he crossed the bridge into the fortress. There was an eery lack of noise coming from within the building. It was as if everyone had moved out, and the fortress was waiting for the next occupants to take residence.

They climbed spiral staircases with only the clicking of the pilfer's crap-like legs and the soft scrape of the tiefling's boots to accompany them. Hunter ascended without making a noise. He barely seemed to breathe.

Flickering emerald light stained the gilt-graced walls. It made the painted frescoes writhe and move like living things. Their citrine-colored eyes watching as the silent troupe passed. They were filled with avarice and greed and a hunger not meant for corporeal beings.

When they reached the door to the throne room, a pang of anxiety went through Hunter but was quickly suppressed. The doors creaked open by themselves, and a macabre tableau played out within the throne room.

Black candles littered the ground in complicated spirals and straight lines. Their green flames created an intricate sigil that made Hunter's eyes hurt. Hunter saw there were two circles with the sigil. The Sentinel was chained down in the center of one of the rings. She was pale and looked wan. Hunter hadn't been gone long, but much had happened in his absence.

Her wings had been torn from her body. Ragged gashes covered every inch of her skin. Molten silver blood dripped from each wound and met others to create a stream of metallic blood snaking its way down her abused flesh. Her brilliant white toga had been ripped and shredded until she was left with little modesty.

The Sentinel's crystalline blue eyes met Hunter's own. The teenager wasn't sure what expression was on his face, but the Sentinel gave him a small smile, and it was filled with love and comfort. It fell on Hunter like the soft rays of a sunrise. It filled him with ease and a small amount of pity. He felt compassion for such a beautiful creature being subjected to such brutal treatment. The feeling was quickly dispersed by the Keeper.

"You've failed in your task, human."

Hunter glanced over at the pilfer, but the demon's monstrous mouth was closed into a flat line. It didn't have any desire to help Hunter out of his predicament. With no assistance from the pilfer, Hunter bowed low toward the Keeper.

"I've grown in strength, Great One, but I haven't been able to manifest a Class. I suspect influence from the Heavenly Host. I believe they are planning to disrupt your ritual by refusing me a Class."

The dragonoid Keeper strode from behind the throne and studied Hunter. The flickering green candlelight clashed against the ruby-colored scales of the demon. Its eyes lit up with the same fire as it looked at Hunter like a tiger deciding the best way to disembowel its prey. Seeming satisfied with whatever it saw, it addressed the Sentinel.

"It's no matter, the boy's attributes appear high enough to survive becoming the Vessel. If this was your plan, Sentinel, your Archivist has failed."

"We shall see, demon."

The Keeper laughed, and it sounded like it was drowning.

"It has always amused me that your kind invests so much power into a single individual. Why have one warrior when you can have thousands? Your petty restrictions have no effect on my plans."

The Keeper gestured toward Hunter.

"See? With soul gems, my factions proves itself once again. Your Archives are the true heresy. Your Host are the abominations of nature. You take living, breathing creatures and try to force them into an artificial system. You're as fake as the god you serve."

The angel didn't bother answering the demon's declaration. The Keeper watched her for a response, and when he realized that none was forthcoming, he turned his attention back to Hunter.

"Still, you've failed your task. You've grown in power, sure. However, I see that there are two tieflings that are yet alive. Worse, you've brought the trash into my inner sanctum. You will rectify that mistake."

The words brooked no disagreement, and still, Hunter denied the demon.

"I won't. You said it yourself. You don't need them. Don't you want more slaves for your armies?"

Hunter tried to appeal to the demon's sense of greed. It couldn't be easy for the Keeper to give up its wealth. That were slaves but another part of its hoard? Hunter was reasonably confident it was the most compelling argument he could make.

The demon sneered at the human who dared refuse its order.

"The Horde has no use for wretches. Their deaths better serve my interests. Your interests are served by obeying my order. So obey."

Hunter looked over his shoulder at his grandparents. Neither of them seemed upset by the conversation. Instead, they were staring around at the richly appointed chamber. Their eyes flickered from the room to the Keeper and back. Hunter remembered his own attitude under the influence of Greed. Hunter's grandparents probably thought everything in the room, the demons included, was beautiful to behold. It completely robbed them of their sense of self-preservation. It was pitiable.

Hunter looked back at the Keeper.

"No. If you want to kill them, do it yourself. I'll not waste their lives."

You should kill them. They're already too far gone. You would be giving them a gift of kindness.

Hunter's eyes widened before he schooled his features. He hadn't expected the Sentinel to weigh in on the decision, and what she had said was disturbing. He communicated with the Sentinel the same way that he spoke to Aquila.

I can't just kill them. They're my family.

That isn't true, Hunter. The angel gave him a sad look. They haven't been your family in a long time. Now, they're just slaves to the Horde. Their deaths will serve the Host by empowering you. I will tell you a secret that might make the decision easier for you. The genuine threat isn't the Keeper. Had the Rift remained undisturbed, it and I would have been in perfect balance. If the Lord of Hell enters this plane so early, then all balance will be upended, and the Host will have to spend significant resources on this front. Kill them. You must do it to save the rest of the world from conflict, the likes of which you can't even imagine.

Hunter looked between the angel and the demon. They were polar opposites yet united in purpose. There was no value in his life or his grandparent's life. It was all maneuvering on a chessboard.

"Why me?" Hunter asked aloud. To his surprise, both the Keeper and the Sentinel answered.

"I don't know why the Archivist sent you to the Rift, but it doesn't matter. I know my master gifted you a Vestige of his power to turn the Host's pawn against them. It will grow to its full strength when the Lord inhabits your body. Feel lucky. The Horde doesn't typically waste such power on one being."

I don't know why the Archivist sent you. Perhaps he saw something in you. He saw the chance to upset the evil plans taking place in this Rift without breaking the rules that bind us to this Eternal War. He had faith in you, Hunter. You merely need to have Faith in him. Have Faith in me.

"So, I'm expendable."

The Keeper laughed, "Of course you are, human."

The demon clapped his hands. "I grow tired of this. If you don't kill the tieflings, I'll simply force you to."

The Keeper looked past Hunter to his grandparents.

"Slaves, this boy has something in his storage ring that I want. If you kill him, you'll be exalted above my other slaves. Beyond that, I'll share the plunder with you."

Hunter swallowed heavily and looked over his shoulder. He saw exactly what he feared. Both of his grandparents were studying him with a greedy gleam to their eyes. James had drawn his weapon while Blair had summoned fire to her hands.

"As you command, Great One," they hissed in unison.