She felt the connection open inside her, the thread that ran from her existence all the way back across the River of the World to the throne that sat at the center of everything demons were and would ever be. The Hand of the Demon Emperor. A fraction of his power, channeled through the five of them, enough to flatten anything standing in this citadel regardless of how many dead Ancestors they called upon.
She began flying toward the cathedral, her aura blazing crimson across the white sky of the Covenant, and her voice echoed outward with gleeful malice.
"Hey, old fucker! Do you remember me from your younger days? I have come to collect the debt!"
...!
The Hallowed Voice turned.
