The Price of Omniscience (LOTM X MARVEL)

Adrian and Agatha prepared in silence, the weight of what lay ahead pressing down like a storm on the horizon. They were heading toward the place where Campbell had gathered with his vampires—where the final act of his ritual would unfold. Adrian hesitated for a moment, the cold grip of doubt brushing against his thoughts. Agatha noticed.

"Are you sure you want to come with me?" she asked, her voice steady but tinged with concern. "I can handle this."

Adrian looked at her, then down at the silver bullets he was loading into his revolver. Each one clicked into place with finality. "No," he said. "This is my fight too."

He knew he had to be ready. There was no turning back now. He was Adrian White, the Seer. And she, Agatha, was the Witch. Together, they walked toward the house where the Black Art waited—and where they would face Campbell and stop the arrival of Belathauzer, the ancient demon that should never walk this world.

Adrian and Agatha stood before the building, its looming frame casting long shadows in the dim light. The plan was simple: Agatha would breach the front door, drawing attention with a direct assault, while Adrian would follow just a few steps behind, watching for traps or hidden threats. The tension in the air was thick with arcane energy, like the moment before a thunderclap.

As Agatha reached out to touch the door, Adrian's breath caught. A cold spike of intuition drove through him—his danger sense flared like a screaming alarm in his mind.

"Wait," he snapped, grabbing Agatha's wrist and pulling her back just in time. "Something's wrong with this place."

Agatha blinked at him, then turned her gaze toward the door, her eyes beginning to glow with eldritch light. She raised her hand, fingers dancing through unseen currents of magic. Her expression hardened.

"There's a ritual embedded in the foundation," she murmured after a moment. "It's subtle… very old, very clever. Anyone who enters uninvited will find their powers dulled—muted. We'd be walking into a trap half-blind."

She stepped back slightly, her voice grim. "It doesn't just suppress magic. It distorts it, twists it. If I had gone in head-on, my spells might've turned on me."

Adrian exhaled slowly. "Glad I trusted my instincts."

Agatha gave him a sidelong glance, then nodded. "You may have just saved me a great deal of pain. Thank you."

Adrian shook his head. "It's my job," he said quietly. "A Seer's role is to guide others toward the best possible outcome."

And as he spoke those words, a strange warmth stirred inside him. Something had shifted. The Seer's potion within him stirred, its power resonating more deeply than before. The realization, the responsibility, the clarity—it had pushed the digestion further. More than half of the potion had now been absorbed.

He was becoming something greater than he had dared to imagine.

Adrian and Agatha sprang into action with silent precision, each falling into their roles without needing to speak. While Agatha knelt before the entrance, her fingers weaving through the strands of invisible enchantment that clung to the building like a second skin, Adrian took position near the door, crouching low behind a crumbled pillar. He drew his revolver, loaded with silver bullets etched with runes Agatha had personally carved, and placed the sun talisman on the ground beside him, its faint glow pulsing like a quiet heartbeat.

As Agatha's spellwork began to unravel the ancient ward, the very air around the house shifted. A ripple passed through the building—like a silent scream in the aether—and everything inside felt it. The pulse triggered a reaction.

The front doors burst open.

Three vampires sprinted out, teeth bared and eyes glowing red with bloodlust—only to be met by a sudden flare of light as Adrian activated the sun talisman. Blinding UV rays blazed from the small object, scorching the creatures mid-stride. Their shrieks echoed in the night as their bodies turned to ash, collapsing into nothing before they even reached the stairs.

But the noise had alerted more.

Shadows flickered in the hallway beyond the entrance—more vampires emerged, hissing and screeching, their claws scraping the walls in rage. Adrian didn't hesitate. He raised the gun and fired. He wasn't a sharpshooter, not by any means—but the bullets were enchanted, and that made all the difference. Wherever they struck—shoulders, limbs, chests—the vampires ignited into embers, disintegrating into dust as if they had never existed.

Spent shells clinked to the ground around him, mixing with ash.

Amid the chaos, Agatha remained composed, her hands moving with increasing intensity as she completed the last of her unbinding ritual. Then, with a final incantation whispered like a curse, she lifted both hands and unleashed a wave of violet flame. It rolled into the building like a living tide—consuming the remaining vampires in an instant, reducing them all to drifting particles of glowing dust.

Silence fell.

Adrian lowered his gun, his chest heaving. Ash clung to his coat, the barrel of his revolver still smoking. He looked at Agatha, who gave a small nod of approval.

They had survived the first trial—but the true horror still waited inside