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Screen blinks to life, revealing a haggard-looking Asher sitting at a table with Caleb.

static

Asher: You ready, padre?

Caleb: I’m here, aren’t I?

Asher rolls his eyes at the camera before glancing off screen and frowning.

Asher: I’ll say one thing about priests, you know how to follow a schedule. Well, we might as well get started. *clears throat* So as I’m sure all of you are aware, the hits keep on coming. Or in this case, the wonders keep on falling.

door bursts open

Pan rushes into the frame, drops a book on the table, and does a double take at Asher and Caleb.

book falling onto table

Pan: You two have certainly looked better. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this disheveled, Caleb. I’ve definitely seen you this rundown, brother, but usually it's for fun reasons. Have you been remembering to hydrate? Do you need me to order you a multivitamin? Our Rosie is rather insatiable now that she’s knocked up.

Caleb: You’re late.

Pan: *scoffs* Impossible. A demon arrives precisely when he means to.

Asher : The last time I checked, you weren’t a demon anymore.

Pan: More’s the pity.

Pan opens the book and thumbs through the pages.

sound of pages turning

Asher: Are you demon enough to at least have something useful for us from that fucking book?

Pan: If you’re going to be rude, I’m going to leave. I don’t need to be here, you know. I have a pregnant mate I could be taking care of.

Caleb: So do I, demon. Can we move this along? The world is quite literally ending with every moment you waste yammering on.

Pan gets up and walks off screen.

footsteps walking away

Asher: Where are you going?

Pan: Satisfying my curiosity.

Caleb: I told you involving him was a mistake.

Asher: We don’t have a choice. He’s the only one who can decipher the Book of Ted.

Pan: *hums* Interesting. Vampires can be caught on film. I have always wondered about that. I knew the reflection myth was only in relation to antique silver-backed mirrors, but Gavin has never let us test the film theory.

footsteps coming closer

Pan comes back into frame.

Pan: And for the record, since this is supposed to be an educational program, it’s not the Book of Ted.

Caleb: Have you figured out who the author is then?

Pan: No.

Asher: So Book of Ted it is. What have you learned?

Pan points to a passage in the book and stares directly at the camera.

Pan: That for each natural wonder we lose we welcome a Prince of Hell. Thus far we have seen Pride, Envy, and now Greed.

Caleb: How do you know that’s who it was?

Pan: It says so here in this book. Our next Prince will be Lust, followed by Gluttony, Wrath, and finally Sloth.

Asher: *derisive snort* Figures that bitch would be last.

Pan: How apt. But none of them will be less dangerous than the others, no matter their names. They are the generals of Lucifer’s army, each one bringing with it an unknown number of Knights to empower their ranks and fill their outfits with warriors infused with the power of each Prince.

Caleb: *scoffs* So we are not only up against Lucifer and his army of hellions.

Pan: I beg your pardon, I had hellions, not Luci. He refers to them as legion . *snorts* And you call yourself a priest. Seriously, did you study at all while you were at seminary? Or were you too busy flogging yourself and repenting for your hundreds of imaginary sins?

Caleb shakes his head, ignoring Pan’s protest.

Caleb: Lucifer stands at the top, defended by his seven Princes, then their unknown number of power-boosted minions, with the legion of hell at the front lines.

Asher: Good ol’ demon fodder.

Pan: An essential, albeit short-lived, position.

Asher scrubs a hand down his face before turning to the camera with a serious gaze.

Asher: Well, you heard it here, folks. We are in a bad way, up against a foe much more powerful than we thought. *self-deprecating chuckle* I feel a little like that one guy in that movie with the muscles and capes.

Remi: (shouts from off camera) 300!

Caleb holds one hand out, palm up toward Asher.

Asher: What are you doing?

Caleb: Pay up. I told you he wouldn’t keep his mouth shut if you allowed him in the room.

Pan: Priests aren’t supposed to gamble.

Caleb: I’m not a priest, just as you’re not a demon.

Pan: What are you then?

Caleb: A father attempting to save up for my children’s college funds.

Asher: Better hope there’s still a world standing for them to grow up in.

Caleb: Why else would I be here subjecting myself to this farce?

Grunts and the sound of struggling precede the appearance of Alek Nordson with a tall, muscular man in his hold. Tor Nordson follows closely on their heels.

rustling of clothes

Jensen: *series of grunts*

Caleb: Jensen? Alek, what are you doing with a member of the Shadow Court?

Alek: I caught him as he was lurking about the property. Likely planning to curse one of us again. Fae scum.

Jensen: I was not lurking, you overgrown baboon. I was invited.

Alek: *scoffs* When?

Tor: That’s what I was trying to tell you, brother. Kai invited him. Don’t you remember our discussion earlier? We need every ally we can drum up.

Alek: Are you sure we want allies that can’t even tell a couple of twins apart? We’re liable to all end up casualties of friendly fire.

Jensen pulls out of Alek’s hold and straightens to his full height, gathering his composure.

Jensen: Firstly, I had nothing to do with cursing your brother, Alek. Secondly, the Shadow Court is directly affected by the apocalypse, and Queen Maeve has sent me as her emissary prior to opening the portal between our realms so she can send every warrior we have to fight by your side. You don’t want to make an enemy of me now, Novasgardian.

Tor places a hand on his brother’s shoulder.

Tor: If I can let it go, brother, so can you. It’s time to set our differences and past squabbles aside.

Alek’s anger deflates before he nods.

Alek: Fine. But one wrong move and . . .

Jensen stares at the camera, confusion on his face.

Jensen: Are you filming this?

Asher visibly starts.

Asher: Shit. I forgot. You guys came in the middle of my sign-off. So, um, anyway. Things continue to unravel, are once again far worse than we thought, and frankly, if you were waiting for some kind of sign before getting up off your ass and joining the revolution, consider me one big flashing neon light. We need you here. Yesterday. If Pan’s translation is correct?—

Pan: Of course it is.

Asher: —then we have weeks left at best before the shit hits the fan for good. If we have any hope of righting this ship?—

Pan: (as an aside) You really need to work on your metaphors, brother mine.

Asher: *heavy sigh* Just get here.

static

End of transmission.