A few minutes later, I had gathered what remained of my allies in my office for a serious brainstorming session. Sylnie, Torvin, Wyver and Jorge were standing. General Gavsot was conscious but slumped over in a wooden chair. I was seated behind my desk with the always-loyal Gus standing beside me. Azraal’s head, with a thick swatch of duct tape covering its mouth, sat next to my computer.
I leaned forward. “So,” I announced, “We need to come up with a plan of action and we need to do it fast. We have an invading army with soldiers that we don’t know how to kill.” I spread my arms out. “Any suggestions?”
“I would assume that our first step would be to figure out how to kill Lucifer’s Firstborn,” Jorge said.
“Always the pragmatist, Jorge,” I said appreciatively. “So how do we figure it out? What are our resources?”
General Gavsot stirred and mumbled something unintelligible. Then he coughed and tried again: “Why not ask the one who already figured it out?”
Slowly, we all turned to look at Azraal’s disembodied head in its position on the desk. It looked like he was actually attempting to shake his head as he shouted something that was muffled by the duct tape. It sounded like, “Aw, hell no!”