"That's demon language," he said, arms crossed. "She's saying: 'Release me, or I'll eat your soul while you're still alive.'"
The room fell silent.
The S.W.O.R.D. Director kept her composure. "So... she's definitely possessed."
"Well, is there any way for you to remove the demon from her—or should we just kill her?" the Director asked bluntly.
Dave looked at her, unamused. "Why are you so obsessed with killing?"
She didn't flinch. "Because we protect Earth from the worst. If someone's been damned beyond saving, and we don't have the means to help them... we make sure they don't become a threat to the world."
Dave shook his head slowly. "This is just a low-level trace, done by lesser demons," he said, walking closer to the glass. "They use weak vessels to test the barrier—to see how long they can remain on Earth."
The woman inside the containment cage suddenly jerked and screamed again, her voice distorted by dark magic.
"What did she say now?" the Director asked with a raised brow.
Dave narrowed his eyes, listening. "She said, 'If I am so weak why not enter inside this cage?'"
"You're not planning to...?" she asked, staring at him.
Dave looked to Phil, who gave him a small nod.
"Let him in," Phil said.
Fury sighed but stepped back. "Well, I do want to see what a half-demon can actually do."
The Director's eyes narrowed but said nothing as Dave entered the chamber.
The door hissed open with a deep click. As it closed behind him, the containment field shimmered slightly.
The woman—no, the thing inside her—stared at Dave and suddenly lunged forward.
"No, you're not walking out of here," Dave muttered, his voice low and sharp.
In one swift motion, he grabbed her by the neck—without hesitation. She growled and thrashed, but Dave's eyes glowed with a burning red as his demonic energy surged.
Crimson and gold symbols danced along his arms, and the woman's limbs were suddenly locked in place by invisible force. Her mouth opened to scream, but only a hollow, breathless sound came out as dark smoke began to pour from her eyes and lips.
Dave raised one hand, forming a glowing seal in mid-air.
"Let's see which parasite decided to sneak into my world."
Slowly, the sigils on Dave's arms pulsed, reacting to the demonic energy as the symbols etched across the woman's face began to peel away like burning ink. The air around her shimmered, and then—
With a screech that echoed unnaturally, something tore free from her body.
What emerged hovered in the chamber, a twisted, grotesque creature with long, gangly limbs, patchy red-gray skin, and hollow eyes that shrieked despair. Her hair flowed like smoke, her mouth stretched unnaturally wide.
"A Banshee," Dave muttered, recognizing it instantly.
Without wasting another breath, he raised his hand and channeled energy into a focused line of burning red and gold.
With a sudden flash, the Banshee was sliced cleanly through mid-air, her form dissolving into nothingness with a hollow scream that slowly faded out.
"Done and dusted," Dave said casually, dusting off his hands as the chamber's emergency lights dimmed and returned to normal.
He stepped out of the containment room and looked toward the Director.
"Send her to your medical wing. She'll need rest... and a name, if she doesn't remember it," he said, giving the woman—now collapsed and breathing softly—a final glance.
"Anyway, let's get back to the main topic—the Darkhold," Dave said, shifting the mood back to serious.
The others nodded, the tension in the air sharpening again.
"Come with me," the Director said, her voice crisp as she turned and began walking down a long, secure corridor.
Dave followed alongside Phil and Fury, his eyes scanning the reinforced hallway. Multiple scanners, security locks, and mystical wards were embedded in the walls—he could feel their subtle hums as they passed by.
"This place is built like a vault," Dave muttered.
"We're not taking any chances," the Director replied without looking back. "This book has corrupted entire civilizations. We keep it contained, studied, but never touched."
They finally arrived at a large blast door, layered with both tech and arcane seals. Two S.W.O.R.D. agents stepped aside as the Director placed her hand on the biometric pad and whispered a short incantation.
The door slowly opened with a mechanical hiss, revealing a heavily shielded chamber bathed in violet-blue lights. At the center of the room, resting on a hovering pedestal surrounded by runes and containment fields... was the Darkhold.
Even sealed, its presence was overwhelming. Whispers brushed against the edge of Dave's mind. The air felt heavier.
"There it is," Fury said grimly. "The reason we're all here."
"So, she's the one taking care of it?" Dave asked as he noticed the only other presence in the room.
"She's not human," the Director replied. "An android named Aida. The Darkhold has driven every human who even tried to read it completely mad. The last reader... he lost his mind and killed his entire team. They were like family to him."
Dave exhaled slowly, nodding. "So you guys decided to use a robot with no soul or mind to be corrupted? I get the logic..." His eyes narrowed. "But it's a mistake."
He walked closer to Aida as she stood motionless by the Darkhold, her gaze cold and mechanical. But as Dave approached, her head tilted, and strange red mist started to seep out from the edges of the book.
"She's laced with containment protocols, and she's mostly passive. She's only here to maintain the field and monitor the tome," the Director explained quickly.
But Dave wasn't convinced.
Aida's glowing red eyes locked onto him. Her fingers twitched as if reacting to some unseen command. Then, without warning, she launched forward—her robotic limbs unnaturally fast, aiming a powerful strike at Dave's face.
Her fist landed squarely on his cheek... and Dave didn't even flinch.
He looked at her calmly and smirked. "Love, relax. That barely tickled."
He grabbed her wrist in a blur, and a soft crack echoed as micro-fractures spread along her metallic arm.
Before Aida could react again, Dave twisted behind her in a flash, his hand gripping the back of her neck with casual force, like a teacher disciplining a student.
Her red systems flickered—something had overridden her directives.
"She's compromised," Dave said coolly, turning to the Director and Fury. "The Darkhold's influence is already crawling through her code."
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