Chapter 122: Rave Against the Dying Light

Within hours, the survey data had become a technical plan. Kayo handled the equipment specifications while Zhang Wei coordinated access, power, and security. The house would become the venue, and every installation had a specific purpose.

They mounted high-output laser projectors in the grand foyer’s corners, lenses aimed dead center. Kayo directed a massive wall of speakers near the staircase, orchestrating a mixing board like a field general commanding artillery.

Su Yao watched it all in silence, her arms crossed tight against her chest.

The drip-drip of water from the ceiling felt less like a leak and more like a countdown. Agents kept their focus on the task, but their eyes flicked toward the black mouths of doorways.

“Lighting check!” Kayo shouted, thumbing her tablet.

Projectors flared, spearing the dusty air with brilliant beams that sliced into intersecting shapes. The oppressive gloom recoiled. A hiss seemed to tear from the old woodwork, and the temperature plummeted.

“Audio check! Hit me with a beat!”

A technician unleashed a rhythmic bass line. The floor thrummed against their soles. A painting on the wall shivered violently in its frame. From the house’s cold core, a guttural growl answered.

One agent flinched, a coil of cable dropping from his numb fingers. “It… it doesn’t like that.”

“Of course it doesn’t!” Kayo chirped, adjusting a dial with a vicious grin. “That’s the whole point! We’re not here to make friends!”

Su Yao turned to Zhang Wei. “Promote the event. Present it as an exclusive underground concert in a historic location with mystery performers, and generate buzz.”

Zhang Wei nodded. “But what if the audience experiences side effects, like in ‘89?”

“That is a calculated risk,” Su Yao replied. “Their emotional energy is a necessary component of the weapon. Some discomfort is unavoidable.”

Their preparations were complete. The Rave Against the Dying of the Light awaited its audience.

All too soon, the night of the concert arrived. A line of attendees snaked down the street, faces illuminated by the glow of phone screens documenting the events. Students, artists, and thrill-seekers mingled. Agents in plain clothing melted into the crowd.

Good. Su Yao watched from a shadowed window on the upper floor. The crowd is sufficient. Their anticipation radiates energy.

Kayo flashed a thumbs-up from the mixing board in the foyer.

Locking the crowd inside, the massive doors swung shut. The house lights died. A seismic bass note vibrated up through the floorboards, and the crowd roared.

Kayo slammed the start button. The laser projectors exploded, stabbing the sudden darkness with blinding white beams. Then the music launched. The audience surged into motion, shouting and dancing.

A screech echoed from the walls, audible even over the punishing decibels. The chandelier above the dance floor swung, crystals shattering on the stone below. Shadows twisted and clawed at the bright edges of the light beams, unable to penetrate the barrier.

Su Yao focused, pouring her own spiritual energy into the assault. She felt Sargatanas fighting back. A few people stumbled, clutching their heads. But the overwhelming sensory beat kept most of them trapped in the rhythm, their minds focused only on the next drop.

Kayo grinned and cranked the volume even higher, adding a high-frequency layer. The walls began to weep a black tar-like substance.

“The light! Focus the light on the main staircase!” Su Yao commanded through her comms.

Kayo’s fingers flew over the controls, converging the laser beams into a single white-hot point at the base of the stairs. The wood smoldered and charred. A formless, shrieking mass of pitch-black darkness writhed there, dissolving under the concentrated light.

Lost in the sonic frenzy, the crowd cheered louder. The psychic backlash from the entity caused a few dancers to vomit or collapse, but the agents quickly hauled them to the periphery.

With a deafening crescendo of sound and a blinding flash that left burning afterimages on the retina, the darkness on the stairs imploded. A silent shockwave passed through the room, extinguishing the lasers and killing the music.

Stillness settled over the house at once. The oppressive weight that had defined the mansion for decades had lifted, leaving the air clear.

Blinking around, the audience began to slow their dancing.

Kayo punched the air, her breathing ragged. “We did it! That was awesome!”

Su Yao descended the stairs, stepping over the spot where the floor was scorched black. Zhang Wei rushed to meet her, wiping sweat from his brow. “The entity?”

“Neutralized,” Su Yao replied. “The house is clean. Disperse the crowd. Offer them complimentary water and vague explanations about a special effects malfunction.”

He nodded, already dialing on his phone.

Su Yao surveyed the foyer. One problem solved,but the Lesser Key of Solomon still awaits. She walked away, the echoes of the bass fading behind her.

The air chilled. Halphas materialized near the charred stain on the staircase, her form shimmering.

“A crude but effective performance,” she said. “You have… significantly inconvenienced my former employer. The Governor’s connection to this locus is severed.”

Wrinkling her nose at the lingering scents of sweat and spilled beer, she looked around the hall. “Using mortal revelry as a cudgel. A distasteful method, but one can’t argue with results.”

She turned her gaze on Su Yao. “Don’t mistake this for a victory. You have only forced a retreat. Sargatanas is wounded. And he is now acutely aware of you.”

Halphas smiled. “I, however, am impressed by your thoroughness. And as a token of my… professional appreciation.” She produced the now-empty bag of sunflower seeds from within her robes and let it drift to the floor. “The next consultation is pre-paid. Do try to have a more dignified query ready.”

With that, she vanished.

Su Yao picked up the bag. She folded the plastic and tucked it into her pocket. A pre-paid consultation. How generous.

Her phone buzzed. Zhang Wei’s name flashed on the screen.

“The last of the crowd is gone,” he said. “We’re citing a faulty electrical transformer and a gas leak for the weird sensations. The news vans are packing up.”

“Good.” Su Yao looked at the charred spot. “Have the cleanup crew use a spiritual neutralizer on the staircase. The residue is still active.”

“On it. The Empress’s office already called. They want a full report by morning.”

“Send them the video feed,” she instructed. “The results speak for themselves.” She ended the call.

The mansion was just an old building again now.

Su Yao walked out into the cool night air, the faint ghost of the bass line still echoing in her bones.

Time to go home. She phased back to Luoyang. One sealed entity, a very angry moth demon, and a bag of sunflower seeds for my troubles. The paperwork for this will be a nightmare. Ah, sweet man-made horror beyond my comprehension. 

Her phone buzzed with a video of the concert’s light-show climax, set to dramatic music.

Kayo: WE ARE LEGENDS!!! The views are exploding! Everyone’s asking who the mystery DJ was!

The apartment was quiet as she dropped her bag onto a chair. An empty sunflower seed packet slipped from her pocket and tumbled to the floor.

Halphas? Sargatanas? The Lesser Key? Too many names, too many problems.

She lifted the scroll from the table, the dark wood cool beneath her fingers. There was still so much to read and even more to understand.

But first, sleep. Even a nine-tailed fox gets tired after throwing a cosmic rave. She planned to deal with the Empress’s report in the morning.

Sunlight struck Su Yao’s face, and she opened her eyes. Her neck was stiff. She had fallen asleep at the table, her head resting on the cool wood of the demonic scroll. A smell of stale sweat clung to her clothes.

She stood and stretched, the scroll rolling shut with a soft thud. Beside it, the empty sunflower seed bag lay.

Her phone buzzed. Zhang Wei was calling.

“The Empress’s office acknowledged the report,” he said. “They’re calling it an ‘unconventional but successful field operation.’ The paperwork is… substantial.”

“Delegate it,” Su Yao said.

“I can’t delegate the forms. It requires your spiritual signature in triplicate. It’s a containment aftermath affidavit.”

She sighed. The real battle always came after the fight. Bureaucracy was a beast even a laser light show couldn’t exorcise.

“Fine. I’ll be there.”

Su Yao ended the call and looked at the scroll. The names inside felt heavier now. Sargatanas was one of six great officers. Five more were out there somewhere.

She grabbed a clean shirt. First, paperwork.

Then, maybe, she’d figure out how to visit Nova Moskva without invitation. An exclusive resort island sounded better than a dusty archive. But the scroll held her attention from the table.

Su Yao stared at the scroll. If this thing can call them here... can it send me there?

A direct path to Gehenna, just a one-way trip to the source of all her new problems. She unrolled the scroll again. Her eyes scanned the complex summoning circles. The rituals were meant to pull entities in.

But the principle is the same. A door swings both ways.

She cleared a space on the floor. Using a piece of chalk, she began redrawing one of the circles, inverting the directional sigils. She replaced the offering components with binding agents.

“Let’s see if this works,” she muttered to the empty room.

Channeling a thread of power to the center of the inverted circle, Su Yao placed her hand into it and focused on the concept of the destination. Gehenna, the Demonic Realm.

The circle flared a sickly green as the air snapped tight, like a rubber band pulled too far. A tremendous force seized her and yanked.

For a single moment, the room vanished. She saw a landscape of fire and shifting black rock then the connection shattered. The force threw her back against the wall. She landed hard, her ears ringing with static. The chalk circle on her floor was scorched black.

A smoking hole hung in the air where the center had been,.

She had opened a window, and something on the other side had noticed. A scratching sound came from the other side of the hole.

Su Yao pushed herself up, rubbing her shoulder. The scratching grew louder. I opened a peephole to hell instead of a doorway.

She took a step closer. The sulfur made her eyes water. A gray tendril poked out of the hole, wiggling in the air.

Her phone rang. Zhang Wei’s name flashed.

“Where are you?” he demanded. “The paperwork is piling up here. The Empress’s secretary just called again.”

“I’m dealing with a minor interdimensional leak.” Su Yao watched the tendril test the air of her living room. “It’s under control.”

“A what? Can it wait?”

The tendril retracted and the scratching stopped. A glowing red eye pressed against the hole from the other side.

“It just did,” Su Yao said. “I’ll be there in an hour.” She ended the call.

The eye blinked. Maybe I don’t need to reverse summon myself. If I can’t go to them, I can just invite them over for tea.

She grabbed a roll of duct tape from a drawer. The eye watched her as she tore off a strip and placed it over the hole. The tape sizzled, but it held.

For now.

The scroll lay on the floor where she’d dropped it. Next time, I’ll read the fine print first.

Heading for the door, Su Yao left the paperwork behind, her mind already elsewhere. If a small hole had let something peek through, perhaps a larger one would let her step through. All she needed was a better circle. And maybe a fire extinguisher.

The duct tape over the hole bubbled. A wisp of smoke curled from its edge. It only needs to last until I get back.

Su Yao grabbed a jacket and slid the scroll into a durable tube. Her phone buzzed from another text from Zhang Wei. Just a single question mark.

She took one last look at the wall. A tiny black spot appeared in the center of the tape.

“Don’t let anything through,” she told the empty room. Then she left, locking the door behind her.

When Su Yao arrived, the Luoyang government building was all polished floors and muted lighting, It felt untouched by the crisis that had driven her there. Zhang Wei met her at the entrance.

“The forms are in conference room B,” he said, handing her a badge. “They need your signature on seventeen pages. The Empress’s seal is already applied.”

“Any other crises?” she asked, following him down a corridor.

“Just the usual,” he sighed. “A minor ghost sighting in the subway, a complaint about a noisy poltergeist in a noodle shop. You know, nothing that requires a laser light show.”

They entered the conference room. A towering stack of paper sat on the large table. It looked like a fortress made of affidavits.

Su Yao picked up the first form: a “Post-Event Spiritual Residue Assessment.” She scrawled her name. So this is what saving the world looks like, paperwork and a leaking wall.

Forms accumulated, each one signed in turn. The scratch of the pen was the only sound. She finished the last form and pushed the stack back to Zhang Wei. “Done.”

“Thank you. What’s your next move?”

Su Yao held up the tube containing the scroll. “I’m going to find a bigger room and better tape.”

The afternoon sun felt warm on her skin as Su Yao stepped out of the government building. She tapped the scroll tube against her leg.

Zhang Wei followed her out. “Do you need help finding a secure location? The Bureau has several containment facilities.”

“No, I need somewhere no one will look. Somewhere with good ventilation.” She looked down the busy street. “And somewhere that won’t burn down easily.”

An image of the abandoned textile factory on the city’s west side popped into her head. It had been empty for years. There was plenty of space and no one around to notice strange lights or sounds. Perfect.

“I have a place in mind,” she told him.

“Should I ask?”

“Probably not.” She started walking toward the bus stop. “I’ll send you the address for emergency purposes only.”

He sighed. “Understood. Try to keep the dimensional breaches to a minimum this time.”

When the bus arrived, she boarded and paid the fare before moving to a seat near the back. The factory lay thirty minutes away. Outside the window, the city slid by. People went about their lives, unaware of the tiny hole burning through a strip of duct tape in an apartment across town.

Her phone buzzed with a message.

Kayo: Heard u r looking for a new lab! So cool! Need a sound system? I know a guy who sells military grade speakers!

She typed a reply.

Su Yao: Not yet, I need to get the door open first.

The bus rumbled on as she leaned her head against the window. If she opened a permanent gateway to hell by accident, the factory was safely tucked inside an industrial zone.

At the end of the line, Su Yao stepped off the bus. The factory loomed behind a chain-link fence, windows broken and walls scrawled with fading graffiti. Home sweet home.

She pushed through a gap in the fence. Time to set up shop.