It was after the harrowing mission in Rachel, Nevada, and our narrow escape from the local authorities that began weighing heavy on my mind. That confrontation with the police had been rather unsettling; it seemed to be a sobering reminder that even with victory in our grasp, the nature of our position is very fragile. I returned to the order's stronghold deep in the Scottish Highlands, where I would seek solace in the quiet shadows of the sanctuary that seems so familiar now.

I spent time reading some books on the science of manipulation and intimidation to hopefully avoid such encounters more easily in the future. After hours of relentless training, exhausted but focused, I went to the heart of the lair where the sacred flame was which had long been extinguished since my father's death. I could hardly believe it, a faint but bright ember was glowing.

Nicneven, the Goddess to whom I pledged my life, spoke. Her voice was soft yet powerful, a whisper that travelled like the wind, piercing my mind.

C̸E̶D̷R̸I̶C̴,̶ ̸T̶H̸O̵U̷ ̶H̷A̵S̶T̶ ̸P̴R̴O̸V̶E̵N̶ ̷T̴H̸Y̴ ̴S̷T̸R̷E̸N̴G̶T̶H̵ ̸A̴N̴D̷ ̸D̴E̴V̶O̶T̶I̶O̵N̷.̵ ̶T̴H̸E̷ ̵F̶L̵A̶M̷E̵ ̸W̶I̵T̶H̴I̵N̸ ̶T̶H̷E̶E̷ ̴I̶S̶ ̷S̵T̷E̴A̶D̵F̷A̴S̷T̴,̴ ̶Y̴E̶T̷ ̸T̷H̵E̶R̶E̶ ̶I̶S̴ ̵M̵O̷R̵E̴ ̸T̷O̸ ̷U̷N̴C̸O̵V̶E̵R̵,̷ ̶M̷O̸R̷E̴ ̷P̷O̴W̸E̴R̸ ̴T̷O̷ ̷G̶R̵A̷S̴P̵.̷ ̷T̷H̷O̷U̴ ̵A̵R̸T̶ ̶R̴E̴A̷D̶Y̵ ̵T̸O̶ ̸A̵S̶C̴E̷N̸D̵ ̵T̵O̶ ̷A̴ ̸H̶I̷G̸H̴E̴R̶ ̸R̴E̵A̷L̷M̵ ̸O̸F̶ ̴M̴A̵S̸T̵E̶R̴Y̶.̶

G̴A̷T̵H̶E̴R̷ ̴M̵O̸R̵E̶ ̴O̴F̸ ̷T̸H̸Y̴ ̸B̶R̵E̸T̴H̵E̴R̸I̵N̵,̵ ̶S̶C̶A̴T̸T̸E̵R̸E̸D̴ ̵A̵M̶O̵N̵G̴S̸T̶ ̵T̵H̶E̵ ̶A̴S̵H̸E̷S̸.̷

The words had me in wonder, feeling a sense of my purpose. As she spoke, warmth surged through me, all-encompassing. The ember in the sacred flame came to life, and I felt its power bonding with mine, a power beyond the flesh. The warmth came to concentrate on my back, growing hotter until it threatened to be too much to endure, and then, as if answering my expectation with surprising suddenness, I felt them, wings pure and living fire unfolding from my back.

I told her I would not fail her.

I had my sword completely refitted in a small charming village. It is weird, seeing the familiar blade now with a different design, but it is necessary to cover my tracks. The armour too; I really cannot afford to be recognized, not with the mess I've gotten myself into. I called up Dimitri, the only one I trust with something like this, and asked him to help offload Alan's supernatural .50 Cal sniper. It's never easy to sell the weapon of a dead friend, but I need the money more than the memories. We met in a pub in Edinburgh, I handed him the weapon. Dimitri's contacts will handle the rest. The funds should buy me some time to stay ahead of the authorities. Afterwards, I had spent hours sifting through old archives, looking for anything that might point me in the direction of a witch. I need someone who can help cover my tracks, erase my trail, and keep me hidden from those that would come after me. I found a few leads, some old cases that might bring me closer to what I need. Now, it's just a question of finding the right one.

I was in my study, deeply immersed in research on various folklore around the Highlands to help me with my goal of tracking down a witch. While doing so, I received a call from Dimitry; he told me Alexei had set up the sale and asked me to come to Bulgaria. I agreed and took a flight to Kavarna. Once there, I had arrived at Dimitry's seaside home. Upon entrance, Dimitry filled me in on the details; we had to pick between dealing with three customers to sell the.50 Cal to. The Russian mob, a Ukrainian, and the US Government. Knowing this, I recommended we opt for the Ukrainian buyer, as he offered a sensible middle ground in terms of both payment and potential complications. That being 15 million USD as payment for the rifle inside a house by the docks, and he seemed like the best option due to the Russians most likely going to screw us over. I met up with Dimitry and two of his assistants. I gave them instructions on where to wait for us as me and Dimitry did the meeting. We were only allowed to bring two guys, so we have these guys as our backup outside the house. We arrive an hour early, stalking the place out, not noticing anything out of the ordinary; no cars going in or out. As midnight approached, our arranged time for the meeting, Dimitry used his blood diamond artefact to gain information on the building; as far as he could tell, there were no ambushes or traps; however, there were 5 humans inside the house.

Me and Dimitry approach the guard outside and talk to him. After exchanging a few words with this seemingly American man, he lets us inside this run-down Soviet-era home. Inside, we go up the stairs, and we enter a room where there are 4 extra men, 3 more men similar to the guard outside, and an older-looking man sitting by a table at the end. We get padded down and declare that we have weapons and no explosives on us. Sitting down, we began our discussion. We explained our circumstances and how we got this rifle, making sure not to reveal too much to this man. The Ukrainian ended up showing us the cash and counting it with a money printer, affirming he is legitimate.

Dimitry started to haggle on the price, trying to bump up the 15 million to 18 million; this, however, is when things took a very grave turn. Suddenly, in a stomach churning twist, Dimitry stood up and said he was going to give him the rifle for free and that he wanted to go home now. My instincts kick in; he was obviously supernaturally compelled to do so. I reached for my bag, which had my blades in it; however, when I did so, I was immediately tacked and grappled to the ground by four of the American guards. Out of my sheer strength, I managed to wrestle my way to grabbing my sword and hitting the men who were piling onto me, managing to kill one in the process. What followed was a long, desperate and deadly struggle; my sword almost got disarmed, but I managed to grab it again. They attempted to choke me out, but thankfully my intristic armoured skin, tough as iron, prevented that. I went for an all-out attack, sacrifcing all my defence for an all-or-nothing clash, and it worked. I turned these guards and the Ukrainian man into a grisly mess of flesh and bone.

What followed was me collecting the cash and the sniper rifle and telling two of Alexei's men that came with us to clean up the mess I made. We made it back to Alexei's warehouse, showing him the situation. He was extremely pissed off at Dimitry for what had occurred, saying that the Ukrainian mafia will now be onto them. I did, however, argue in Dimitry's case, stating that if we had not killed them, Alexei's reputation would be in the mud, allowing anyone to walk over him. I collected my 7.5 million dollars in cash, a much higher amount than I was expecting, truly allowing me a lot of financial freedom and helping me escape the DSPA.