The monastery ruins still smoldered when Maxwell and the others descended the mountain. The shard's destruction had quieted the land, but silence brought no peace. Every step felt heavier, as though unseen chains dragged behind Maxwell's boots.
They found shelter in a deserted mountain hut, its walls lined with cracked icons and old candles. Anthony lit what few wicks remained, their glow trembling against the damp stone. He spread the Codex across a rickety table, the pages alive with shifting script.
Maxwell sat apart, sharpening his blade though it didn't need sharpening. The whispers clawed at him still, louder since Peru, tugging at his thoughts like hooks.
You felt him, didn't you? His sorrow, his chains. He calls to you, son. Only I can guide you to him.
Maxwell gritted his teeth and dragged the whetstone harder across the blade, sparks flying.
Gabby knelt by the doorway, her wings folded, her gaze fixed on the storm outside. Her golden eyes shifted toward him, searching, measuring. "You saw him, didn't you?"
Maxwell's hands froze on the hilt. Slowly, he lifted his head. "My father."
Anthony's chant faltered, his eyes snapping up from the Codex. "You… you truly saw him?"
Maxwell's eyes burned faintly crimson in the candlelight. "Chained. Broken. Begging me to free him." He exhaled shakily, his jaw clenching. "Samael showed me."
Gabby's voice was calm but laced with iron. "Then it was a lie. Samael weaves chains of illusion. He preys on memory."
Maxwell rose sharply, his chair scraping the floor. "It wasn't an illusion! I felt him. His voice—his sorrow—it was real." He pressed a fist to his chest. "If he's trapped in the Abyss, then I can bring him back."
Anthony's face paled. "Maxwell… the Abyss is no place for men or angels. It is eternal exile. To step into it is to risk damnation itself."
Maxwell's storm-gray eyes flared, his voice breaking with anger. "So what, I'm supposed to just forget him? Pretend my father never existed while Samael chains him like an animal?"
The hut fell into silence. Only the storm howled outside.
Gabby rose and crossed the room, her wings brushing the walls as she approached him. She placed her hand against his chest, over the steady thunder of his heart. Her voice was soft but unyielding.
"You are his son, Maxwell. But you are not his chains. His choices brought him to that place. Yours will decide if the world follows."
Maxwell searched her eyes, torn between fury and despair. His sword trembled in his grip.
Anthony's voice broke the silence, low and hoarse. "The Codex speaks of a threshold — a gate where the veil is thinnest, a place Samael himself cannot pass but sends his servants to guard. If we reach it, we may glimpse the Abyss without falling into it."
Maxwell's breath caught. "Where?"
Anthony's finger traced the burning script. "Jerusalem."
The word hung heavy in the air, sacred and terrifying.
Gabby's wings unfurled slowly, golden light spilling into the dim hut. "Then that is where we go. But know this, Maxwell—what waits there may break you. Samael will not allow you to look upon your father without paying a price."
Maxwell sheathed his sword with a sharp snap. His storm-gray eyes gleamed with a dangerous light. "Then let him come collect."
Outside, thunder rolled across the mountains, as though the world itself trembled at the path ahead.
Far below, in the Abyss, chains rattled louder. And the fallen seraph whispered his son's name.