Secret Histories feats (Moonbreaker)

Molly scans an alternate Drood Hall for signs of the Heart:

“Molly, could the Heart still be here? I know we checked the Sanctity last time and there was no sign of it, but could it be . . . hiding somewhere? Hoping for a Drood to return?”

 “You are not thinking of making the Heart your ally!” said Molly.

 "Hell no,” I said. “I just want to know if I’m going to have to kill it again.”

 Molly’s eyes became cold and distant as she sent her witchy Sight racing through the Hall. I looked quickly around, my hands clenched into fists, my skin crawling in anticipation of the attack I knew I’d never see coming. And then Molly relaxed, and shot me a reassuring smile.

“Take it easy; there’s no trace of the Heart anywhere in the Hall. Or on the grounds, or even on this plane of existence. It probably ran off to some other dimension the moment it saw the Droods were losing.” -Moonbreaker

A dozen tanks open fire on Eddie and Molly. It does nothing:

I stepped through the jagged hole in the wall and strode out into the grounds of Drood Hall. It was a bright, sunny afternoon, under a cloudless sky, and a dozen armoured tanks stood arrayed on the lawns before me, their long guns covering the whole side of the Hall. Large, heavy death machines, with stylised military badges to make it clear they represented MI 13.

[...]

The tanks suddenly opened fire, targeting Molly and me with everything they had. The noise was deafening. The tanks fired again and again, as fast as their gunners could load new shells. I just stood there and let them get on with it. Most of the shells were absorbed harmlessly by my armour. A few exploded squarely against my chest, but I didn’t even rock under the impact. Molly stood calmly beside me, inside a shimmering field of protective energies. Any shell that got anywhere near her just vanished.

 We both looked steadily back at the wide array of tanks, entirely unmoved by the continuing onslaught. Every now and then I’d wave at the huddled ranks of soldiers, just to show I hadn’t forgotten them. They didn’t look at all happy about that. One by one the gunners stopped firing, as they either ran out of shells or lost the will to continue. It can’t be easy, trying to kill someone who just stands there and calmly refuses to be killed. -Moonbreaker

Shortly afterwards, Eddie backhands a tank shell out of the air:

Eventually I slapped a shell out of mid-air with the back of my hand, and it exploded not far from the nearest soldiers, showering them with earth and grass. The officers had to do a lot more shouting to get their men to hold their positions. -Moonbreaker

Eddie sends a tank flying several feet away with a shoulder charge, then tears its armor apart, bends the barrel in half, picks the whole thing up and tosses it some distance away:

I charged forward across the lawn. My armoured legs drove me on at more-than-human speed, my heavy golden feet digging great divots out of the ground. I closed the distance between myself and the tanks so quickly they couldn’t traverse their barrels fast enough to keep up with me. I went straight for the nearest tank, lowered one golden shoulder, and rammed it. Steel shields ruptured, and the sheer force of the impact drove the tank back several feet. I grabbed hold of the metal shielding with both hands and ripped it apart. The steel screamed as my golden gloves tore it like paper. The tank’s barrel tried to lower itself towards me, and I hit it so hard I bent it in half, pointing the end away from me. I did think about tying the barrel in a knot, but that would have felt like showing off. I braced myself, took a firm hold of the tank, and picked the whole thing up. Its heavy treads spun wildly as the engines strained uselessly. I threw the tank away from me. It crashed heavily, some distance away, flipped end over end two or three times, and then the engines cut out. -Moonbreaker

Eddie flips another tank without even trying:

Another tank powered in my direction, lowering its barrel as much as it could to target me. As though getting in close would make any difference. I ran forward, ducked under the barrel, grabbed hold of the tank, and turned the whole thing over onto its side, enjoying the muffled screams from inside. Then I looked around for another tank. I was enjoying myself. I always feel better when the world gives me an opportunity to do something unpleasant about all the things that have been getting on my nerves. There’s nothing like giving an enemy a really good slapping to improve your day. -Moonbreaker

Upon getting shot with numerous types of ammunition, Eddie's armour analyzes the properties of every bullet he takes:

Information flashed up on the inside of my mask, as my armour absorbed the various bullets and analysed them. My armour always absorbs bullets, rather than let them ricochet and possibly injure some innocent bystander. Though I was pretty sure there weren’t any of those around just at the moment. I was interested to discover that the soldiers were firing a wide assortm
ent of ammunition. Blessed and cursed, garlic coated and mercury tipped, even depleted uranium with crosses carved into them. Apparently this version of MI 13 liked to be prepared for all eventualities. They had something to stop anyone—except a really upset Drood in his armour. -Moonbreaker

Molly turns incoming bullets into butterflies again:

Seeing that they were getting nowhere with me, the soldiers turned their guns on Molly as she sauntered forward to join me, not wanting to be left out of the action. I wasn’t worried. The moment the soldiers opened fire on Molly, she gestured imperiously and all their bullets turned into butterflies. Big, bright, and colourful, the butterflies immediately turned around and flapped determinedly towards the soldiers, who threw away their weapons and ran, shouldering their officers out of the way.

“Wimps!” Molly yelled after them. -Moonbreaker

Eddie survives an "implosion grenade" that generates a pressure he determines must be comparable to that of the bottom of the ocean:

Molly turned abruptly to look at me, to make sure I wasn’t taking an undue interest in what she was doing, but by then I was carefully concentrating on the soldiers before me. One lobbed a grenade at me, and I snatched it out of mid-air. I studied the thing carefully. Again, it wasn’t any make I was familiar with. The dully gleaming exterior was etched with ancient Nordic death runes. I closed my golden hand around the grenade and braced myself, ready to contain the explosion . . . But instead coruscating energies flared up around my hand, rapidly swelling into a deepening vortex. I tried to jerk my hand back, and found I couldn’t. It was stuck in the heart of the field.

Something grabbed hold of my armoured hand and jerked it deeper into the vortex. My hand and wrist disappeared, as though the cloud of crackling energies was much deeper than it appeared. I dug my heels deep into the ground as the pull came again, but despite everything I could do I was jerked forward, my arm disappearing into the vortex right up to the elbow. Air whistled past me, sucked in from all directions by the energy field. Great tufts of earth and grass were ripped out of the surrounding lawns, and sucked in by the shimmering energies. And all the time I was fighting the pull with all the strength I had, struggling to break free—and failing.

I knew what the problem was now: I’d been stupid enough to let an implosion grenade detonate. I’d heard of them, because I make it a point to keep up to date with all the latest unpleasantness, but I’d never encountered one before. An explosion in reverse, designed to draw in everything in the vicinity and then compress it down to nothing. The perfect way to kill your enemy and leave no evidence behind. I’d never heard of one being used against a Drood before, so I had no idea how to fight it. The energy field yanked me forward another step, sucking my arm in well past the elbow. I could feel a growing pressure on the part of my arm I couldn’t see, and if I could feel that through my armour, it had to be seriously strong. As in, bottom-of-the-ocean, tons-of-pressure-per-square-inch strong.

I thought quickly. Some of the soldiers were firing their guns at me while I was distracted, more in a spirit of optimism than anything else. I let my armour absorb the bullets while I concentrated on the problem before me. Brute strength might not be enough to break me free of the field, but I was still willing to bet the strange matter of my armour against whatever energies the field could produce. So I stopped fighting the pull and stepped forward, right into the heart of the vortex.

The world around me disappeared, replaced by flaring energies so bright and vivid they were beyond colour. A terrible pressure clamped down on me from all sides, as if I were being crushed in the hand of God. And then the appalling forces of the energy vortex met the implacable power of my armour . . . and the field just collapsed. The world reappeared, the air around me lightly dusted with the last dissipating traces of implosion energies. I held my armoured arm up before me and turned my hand back and forth. Not even a dent. -Moonbreaker

Molly causes some sort of gas grenade to explode in midair, then forces the gas to retreat back in the direction of her attackers:

One of the soldiers said something very bad and threw a grenade at us. Molly snapped her fingers and the grenade exploded well short of us. A nasty-looking purple gas billowed out. Molly gestured at it dismissively, and the gas swept back to envelop the soldiers. They were forced to retreat, gagging and choking. -Moonbreaker

The book of Morgana le Far contains words capable of blowing up the planet:

"Oh shit . . .”

“What?” I said.

“This is bad stuff,” said Molly. “And I mean seriously bad stuff.”

"You know what this is?” I said.

“The Book of Morgana La Fae,” said Molly. “Greatest witch of all time. She helped bring down King Arthur’s Camelot. Killing Morgana was the last great thing Merlin ever did, and the effort nearly destroyed him. She knew things no one else knew, or would want to know. This looks to be the Eighteenth-Century edition; as close to an unexpurgated version as you’re going to get. It’s written in an ancient form of Enochian, the language men use when they want to talk directly to angels or demons. Eddie, I was a supernatural terrorist for years, and I never even saw a copy of this book. It’s hideously dangerous; the occult equivalent of a backpack nuke. There are Words in here that could blow the earth apart like a firecracker in a rotten apple. You do not want to mess with this.” -Moonbreaker

The Drood Family has an entire subdivision whose job is to watch out for incursions from other realities:

“Hostile incursions from other realities are one of the things we guard against,” I explained. “Because the essence of security lies in being sure everyone really is who they appear to be. There’s a whole Drood department who do nothing but watch for breaks in the barriers between the worlds. Fortunately, that happens a lot less often than most people think.” -Moonbreaker

Apparently fucking Demon Droods are a thing:

“Can I ask, where exactly are we going?” said Molly. “And if it’s as bad as the look on Peter’s face suggests, why are we in such a hurry to get there?”
“Because we need to get to the Demon Droods before Edmund can,” said Peter.
“The what ?” I said.
Peter sighed, and looked at me with heavy patience. “In the beginning, the family made a series of pacts and agreements with Heaven and Hell, so we could be sure we would always have the power we needed to do all the things that needed doing. You were taught that at school, right? What you don’t know, what it was decided long ago that most of the family didn’t need to know, is that some of those early Droods were required to enter into alchemical marriages to seal the deal. With angels and with demons. Resulting in Angelic Droods and Demon Droods.”
“You mean half-breeds, like Roger Morningstar?” said Molly.
“Worse,” said Peter. “These were alchemical marriages, of the spirit as well as the flesh. Imagine a thing from the Pit, with the added power of Drood armour, operating freely in this world.”
“I’d rather not,” said Molly.
Peter smiled grimly. “That was the point. To intimidate our enemies. Heavy hitters, for the most extreme missions.”
“How many Droods took part in these marriages?” I said.
“Too many,” said Peter.
“If these Demon Droods were such a tremendous tactical advantage,” Molly said slowly, “why were they forced outside the Hall?”
“Because we discovered we couldn’t trust them,” said Peter. “It really shouldn’t have come as a surprise. I mean, come on. Demon Droods? The clue was right there in the name, if anyone had been paying attention.”
“What did they do?” I said.
“Tried to drag the entire Hall and everyone in it down to Hell,” said Peter. “Human sacrifice on a really big scale. Came pretty close, by all accounts.”
“Why not just take their armour back and tear up the agreement?” said Molly.
“Because we couldn’t,” said Peter. “That was part of the deal. Some marriages really are forever. The best the family could do was imprison all of the Demon Droods, and then force that prison outside our reality. But if they’re back . . . If Edmund has found a way to release them . . .”
“Would even he be that stupid?” said Molly. “Because you can bet the Demon Droods wouldn’t thank him for his pains.”
“He might be that desperate,” I said, “and that vindictive.” -Moonbreaker

Eddie, Molly and some fuckface named Peter battle the Demon Droods in the Old Library. During this, it's revealed that the Demon Droods are still bearing the armour provided by the Heart (which is weaker than the current iteration of the armour), but that the demons themselves are strong enough to make up for the gap and have enough punching power to damage Eddie through his current armour:

The Demon Drood stopped, almost shocked that I wasn’t intimidated, and I took advantage of his hesitation to reach up and punch him right where his eyes should have been.
The power behind that punch would have ripped anyone else’s head off, but the Demon was still a Drood. His head snapped all the way round, but he recovered in a moment. A golden hand shot out so fast I didn’t even see it coming, and vicious claws slashed across my throat . . . only to skid away in a shower of sparks. A sudden confidence ran through me as I realised he hadn’t even scratched my armour. I laughed out loud, and the Demon Drood froze where he was. Because that was the one response he hadn’t been expecting. I glanced back at Molly and Peter.
“Okay, people. We are back in the game! These Droods are from so long ago they’re still wearing Heart armour; no match for the strange matter Ethel provides. All we have to do is hold them off until their armour runs down and disappears back into their torcs!”
“And then we kick their heads in,” said Molly.
“Right!” I said.
“Unless they kill us first,” said Molly.
“Well, yes,” I said. “Try not to let that happen.”
Peter stepped up beside me and punched the Demon Drood so hard in the gut he actually went stumbling backwards. Peter laughed delightedly. The Demon Droods surged forward in a pack, howling like the fiends they were. And Peter and I went to meet them. Barbed claws slammed into my armour again and again, hitting me from every side, and even though they couldn’t break through, the sheer impact from so many blows sent me staggering this way and that. I struck back with all my armour’s strength, and Demon Droods went reeling away, shaking their horned heads dazedly. Their great golden wings flapped uselessly, just getting in the way. There wasn’t room to fly in between the towering stacks. I forced my way into the midst of them, striking out savagely. And every time my fists struck home, armour on armour, there was a sound like the tolling of great golden bells.
Peter spun and pirouetted like a young man, striking down the Demon Droods with happy enthusiasm. He avoided most of their blows, and blocked the rest with an upraised arm that was always just where it needed to be. He was faster, stronger, smarter than the Demons. He swept their legs out from under them, kicked them in the head when they crashed to the floor, and laughed out loud.
Molly darted around the edges of the fight, stabbing her wand every time she had a clear shot. Golden armour cracked and splintered under the magical impacts, but always repaired itself. She blasted one Demon Drood right through a heavy wooden stack, destroying any number of books, but he rose from the wreckage unharmed. Molly cursed dispassionately. The wand hadn’t been designed for this kind of warfare.
The fight surged back and forth through the Old Library, doing terrible damage to irreplaceable books and precious manuscripts. Because the Demon Droods didn’t care, and we were fighting for our lives. The Demons surged around us, striking out with vicious strength, attacking us from every direction at once. Terrible claws slammed in out of nowhere to slice along my rib cage. The claws skidded away in a squeal of sparks, but the impact was enough to drive the breath out of me. I staggered backwards, caught off balance, and a punch from a golden fist almost took my head off. Peter was quickly there at my side, driving the Demon back with incredible speed and strength. In his armour he wasn’t old and frail any more, and he gloried in it. He danced among the Droods, ducking and dodging everything the enemy could throw at him, buying me time to recover. I was seeing him as he used to be, in his prime, but I had to wonder how long that would last. I got my breath back and returned to the fight.
We were holding our ground but we weren’t hurting them, and they knew it. The Demon Droods never grew tired and never slowed down. They pressed forward constantly, their fists slamming down like golden hammers—because even old-style Drood armour was made strong enough to shake the world. We’d been fighting for some time now, but they showed no signs of losing their armour. Perhaps their demonic nature supplied it with new energy.
One of the Demon Droods lifted a whole standing stack into the air to throw at Molly. The books flew off the shelves in a rustling cloud and circled him menacingly. The Demon Drood threw the shelving aside and struck out at the books with his golden hands, but they avoided him easily. They all closed in at once. And when they fell to the floor, just books again, there was no trace remaining of the Demon Drood. Some books in the Old Library really don’t like to be disturbed.
I fought the Demon Droods with all my strength and speed, delivering punches that would have cracked open a mountain, to no avail. Peter was moving so quickly now the Demon Droods couldn’t even get close to him. We clubbed the Demons down, again and again, while magics from Molly’s wand exploded among them, throwing them this way and that. But for all our efforts we weren’t damaging or hurting them. And I knew we would break before they did. -Moonbreaker

The Pook manages to body the Demon Droods in what an armoured Eddie perceives as only a moment.

So, when all else fails, cheat. I fell back on the one ace I still had tucked up my golden sleeve. Marked very firmly as ONLY FOR REAL EMERGENCIES . I raised my voice.
“Pook! This is Eddie Drood! Look what they’re doing to your Library! ”
And just like that, there he was. The great white rabbit himself, standing a little off to one side. Tall and dignified in a Playboy Club smoking jacket, with a martini in one paw and a monocle screwed firmly into one pink eye.
“What is all this noise?” he said crossly. “And who’s responsible for all this mess?”
The Demon Droods took one look at the Pook and immediately backed away. They were afraid of him. Perhaps because their demonic senses Saw more of him than mere mortal eyes ever could. The Pook threw aside his martini and lunged forward, a fierce white blur, right into the midst of the Demon Droods. And in a moment, they were all gone. The Pook turned unhurriedly back to face me and Molly and Peter, and smiled easily.
“Tasty . . .”
I armoured down so he could see who I was. Though I was pretty sure he already knew. I’ve always been pretty sure the Pook knows anything he wants to know. Peter armoured down, his eyes wide and his jaw dropping. Molly lowered her wand, as though it had suddenly become very heavy.
“How?” said Peter. “I mean, what ?”
“You’ve never met the Pook before, have you?” said Molly.
Peter shook his head, lost for words. -Moonbreaker

And then the Pook goes and sets the whole Hall right in a moment. This includes lowering a dimensional barrier that's been erected around the Hall, reinstalling the Hall's "spatial suppressors" (which keep certain parts of the Hall separated from reality), and shutting down Alpha Red Alpha:

The white rabbit looked around him, as though staring past the Old Library at the Hall beyond. “What have you been doing in my absence? Oh, I see. Honestly, I turn my back on this family for five minutes . . . There. I’ve lowered the force shield around the Hall, shut down Alpha Red Alpha, and reinstalled the spatial suppressors. Everything’s back to where it should be, and I strongly suggest you leave it there. So much eccentric geometry was getting on my nerves.” -Moonbreaker

Angelic Droods are greater than humans, but less than real angels:

“Angels are God’s will made manifest,” said Peter. “Heaven’s stormtroopers. When God wants something done right now, and no arguments. Normally angels have no will of their own, as we would understand it. They’re just here to smite the bad guys and walk right over anyone who gets in their way. But these aren’t the real deal. After what they were put through, they’re more than human but less than divine. Caught half-way between this world and the next. Who knows how they think or whose will they follow?”
“You know,” Molly said to me quietly, “I think I felt better before he explained things.” -Moonbreaker

The Angelic Droods have a passive aura that fascinates those around them. The current Drood armour is capable of blocking this:

Once again the Droods crowded together before the Hall let me pass without even noticing I was there. They stood silently, heads tilted back, fascinated by the golden figures hovering over them. I could understand that. The closer I got to the Angelic Droods, the more intense their presence became. Looking directly at them was like staring into the sun—but you still didn’t want to look away. The Angels were simply too perfect for this limited physical world.
They had none of the bodily distortions of the Demon Droods. All thirteen Angels had the simple perfection of classical statues. Only struck in gold, with featureless faces and massive, wide-spread wings. Everything about them held the eye, controlling the attention, demanding their every detail be studied and appreciated. I felt like I could look at them forever.
People I passed made vague sounds of awe and wonder. I was having trouble looking away, even to see where I was going. I wondered if this was how mice felt when confronted by the snakes that fascinated them, before they struck. That thought did the trick. I dragged my gaze away from the Angels through an effort of will, and concentrated on my torc. A thin stream of golden strange matter leapt up from my torc to cover my eyes with a pair of golden sunglasses, and just like that the fascination was gone. The Angelic Droods were still impressive, and obviously very dangerous. But I was a Drood. I dealt with impressive and dangerous every day, and sent them home, crying to their mothers. I pushed my way through the crowd, shouting at everyone to armour up.
“Pull yourselves together! The Angelic Droods are putting out some kind of signal to overwhelm us! Use your armour to cover your eyes, and break the signal! Do it!”
One by one people around me activated their torcs, calling up everything from golden sunglasses to full face masks, and immediately a babble of voices broke out as everyone realised how badly they’d been affected.
“Get ahold of yourselves!” I yelled. “We are Droods! We don’t bow down to anyone!” -Moonbreaker

The Angelic Droods literally flew through time:

“You know what they did to the Demon Droods. We helped them do it, and then they tried to do the same to us. After everything we did for them, they turned on us like ungrateful children. So we escaped in the only way left to us. We flew through Time, into the Future.”

"You came here directly from then?” I said.

“How many centuries is that?” said Molly.

“It doesn’t matter,” said Uriel. “To angels, Time is just another direction to travel in. Our wings carried us through the paradox storms of the chronoflow, fighting the tides of history and the currents of fate. Our burning need for revenge gave us all the strength we needed.”

I remembered the angel I found imprisoned in Cassandra Inc’s flying fortress. It had said much the same thing about angels and Time. I just hoped the Angelic Droods weren’t as powerful as the real thing. -Moonbreaker

Apparently they saw this exact future, down to the last detail, and chose it as their destination:

“Uriel, you could have an honoured place among us. You don’t have to do this.”
“But we want to,” said Uriel. “And we will. You are responsible for the destruction of the Demon Droods. We can feel it on you.”
 “Well, yes, indirectly . . .”
 “We chose that point for our return,” said Uriel. “Because Droods who were capable of such a thing could also be a threat to us. And would have to be dealt with before we could ever feel safe again.” -Moonbreaker

Eddie and Uriel Drood exchange punches, with differing results:

“Enough talk,” said Uriel. “It is clear that Droods are still Droods, ready to say anything to get what they want. Time for you to die.”
He punched me in the face, his golden fist moving so quickly I never even saw it coming. There was enough strength in the blow to rip the head right off a normal human being. The impact slammed my head round and knocked me off balance, but that was all. I hardly even felt it inside my armour. I turned back to face Uriel, still on my feet, not hurt at all. And he just stood there, astonished. I was grinning like a wolf behind my face mask. It was good to be reminded that the old Heart armour was no match for strange-matter armour.
“What kind of Drood are you?” said Uriel.
“The real deal,” I said.
I held up one fist and grew heavy spikes out of the golden knuckles. And while Uriel was preoccupied watching that, I punched him right in the middle of his featureless face. His armour actually cracked under the impact, and he staggered back, arms flailing. Molly whooped loudly, punching the air and jumping up and down on the spot. I thought for a moment Uriel might fall, but his great golden wings spread out to balance him, and he didn’t. He shook his head slowly and turned back to face me. The cracks in his face mask had already repaired themselves. Behind me I heard the Sarjeant-at-Arms calling out to the family.
“You see that? They’re not so damned special! Take the bastards down!” -Moonbreaker

Eddie battles with Uriel for a bit while the other family members fight their Angelic Drood counterparts. He starts off keeping pace with him and even gaining the upper hand for a moment, as the other Droods take the fight to the enemy:

Uriel raised his right hand, and a flaming sword erupted out of it. A long, fiery blade, radiating a heat so intense I could feel it even through my armour. A quick glance at the sky was all it took to confirm all the other Angelic Droods had flaming swords now.
“Okay,” said Molly. “Things just escalated.”
I grew a long golden sword out of my right glove. Uriel stared at it. Drood armour couldn’t do things like that in his day.
“You see?” I said to him. “This really isn’t the world you knew. We don’t have to be enemies.”
He struck at me with his flaming sword, inhumanly fast. But I was ready for him this time, and my golden blade shot forward to meet the flaming sword and stop it dead. The weird flames leapt up, trying to consume my blade, but the golden strange matter resisted them easily. I beat Uriel’s sword aside and took the fight to him, cutting and hacking with all the strength and speed my armour could give me. The Angelic Drood blocked my every blow, but was forced back step by step. His parries grew faster and more certain, until suddenly I couldn’t get anywhere near him. I stood my ground and fought on, searching for some sign of weakness in his technique.
The remaining Angels dropped out of the sky like so many golden meteors, to attack the Droods with their flaming swords. My family armoured up, growing golden swords and axes and battle staffs out of their hands. Every single one of them came charging forward, crying out defiantly, to take on the Angels. One Angelic Drood flew straight at the Sarjeant-at-Arms, who opened fire with both guns. The sheer impact of whatever he was using for ammunition was enough to stop the Angel dead in mid-flight, but not enough to do him any harm. -Moonbreaker

An Angelic Drood's sword is capable of slicing straight through the current Drood armour:

Uriel beat my blade aside with unexpected strength, and his flaming sword came sweeping round in a vicious arc, going for my throat. I couldn’t bring my sword up in time to block the blow, so I instinctively raised my left arm to intercept it. Expecting the flaming sword to just skid harmlessly away, like the Demon Drood’s claws. Uriel’s sword cut right through my armour, and sank deep into the flesh beneath. I cried out, in shock as much as in pain. Blood flew from my wounded arm as the Angel jerked his blade free. Molly howled in fury and rushed forward.
Blood ran thickly underneath my armour, and terrible pain shot through the whole length of my arm. I retreated quickly, sweeping my sword desperately back and forth before me to hold the Angel off. Uriel attacked with everything he had, trying to press his advantage. I stuck to purely defensive moves while my armour repaired itself, sealing seamlessly over the wound. My head cleared as the armour pushed the pain away and clamped down hard to contain the bleeding. Anything else would have to wait.
Heart armour might be inferior to mine, but it seemed the flaming sword was another matter. -Moonbreaker

Uriel Drood slashes a lightning bolt mid-strike:

Molly moved in close and blasted the Angelic Drood with a lightning bolt at point-blank range. The Angel intercepted the bolt with his flaming sword, and the lightning shot harmlessly away into the distance. -Moonbreaker

Multiple successful slashes from Eddie don't faze Uriel, and his armour repairs itself immediately after each attack:

I cut viciously at Uriel with my golden blade, and he parried my every move with his flaming sword. I was grunting with the effort of each blow now, but he never made a sound. The edge of my sword slammed into his left shoulder, opening up a long cut in his armour, but no blood flew. I cut him again and again, but he never cried out once. The armour repaired itself, and the Angel fought on. A slow chill ran through me as I wondered what, exactly, was underneath that armour. -Moonbreaker

Molly opens up a literal bottomless pit underneath Uriel, after which the latter shows that his/its wings are not just for show:

Molly yelled for me to get out of the way. I disengaged and stumbled back, gasping for breath. Molly conjured up a bottomless hole under Uriel’s feet. He dropped into it a few inches, and then his great wings cupped the air and he shot up into the sky, leaving us behind. He dropped down again some distance away, looking for new prey. I thrust my sword into the ground and leaned on it tiredly. Molly came over to join me.
“You forgot about the wings?” I said. “Really?”
“Don’t nag,” said Molly. -Moonbreaker

The thirteen Angelic Droods are more than capable of killing the living shit out of every other Drood not named Eddie that they come across. They're also unfazed by being impaled:

The Angels were surrounded by armoured Droods, throwing themselves forward from all sides. But the Angelic Droods wielded their flaming swords with inhuman speed and power, slicing through my family’s armour almost at will. Droods cried out and fell, and the Angels stepped over the dead and kicked the wounded aside to get to their next victim. Our numbers were enough to slow the Angels, but that was all. Some Droods threw themselves bodily at the Angels and hung on to their arms and shoulders, trying to drag them down through sheer weight of numbers. But the Angels just shrugged them off with superhuman strength and kept fighting.
Droods were falling everywhere now. Their armour protected them from everything short of a direct hit, and even when the armour was broached it repaired itself. But the men and women inside the armour stayed hurt. More and more were falling to the churned-up, blood-soaked ground and not rising again. None of the other Droods would retreat from the fight, not while the family was under threat, so they fought on. Until they fell or died. There was always someone to step forward and take their place, because they knew their duty. Anything for the family. The Angelic Droods kept fighting, their flaming swords rising and falling with cold, implacable fury. Now and again a Drood would risk everything to get close enough to run an Angel through with their golden blade, but the Angel seemed to take no hurt at all. -Moonbreaker

"Teleport mines" send a hundred different parts of two of the Angelic Droods to a hundred different locations across the grounds of Drood Hall. Said Angelic Droods proceed to just snap themselves back together in a moment:

Two Angels dropped down out of the sky, thinking the area was safe now. The moment they landed, teleport mines activated, and sent a hundred different parts of them to a hundred different locations across the grounds. My family cheered again as bits and pieces of Angels pattered down over the lawns, only to break off again as they realised each piece was still wrapped in golden armour. The teleported pieces had barely touched the ground before they went shooting back across the lawns to recombine into the two Angels. Who appeared entirely unaffected by the experience.
“Okay,” I said. “That is hardcore.”
“Heavenly hardcore,” said Molly. “What are they inside that armour?” -Moonbreaker

Completely twisting and deforming the armour does not stop it from restoring itself:

One Angelic Drood headed straight for the Matriarch, cutting down everyone who got in his way. She didn’t flinch, holding her sword at the ready, but the Sarjeant-at-Arms was quickly there to stand between the Matriarch and the Angel. The only Drood who hadn’t armoured up. Two really big and ugly guns appeared in his hands. He opened fire, and the Angel lurched and staggered under the impact. But he didn’t fall. The guns disappeared from the Sarjeant’s hands, to be replaced by two disturbing alien things I didn’t even recognise. He fired again, and the Angel’s armour twisted and deformed under the ravening energies. Only to repair itself, almost immediately. -Moonbreaker

Spinal damage and repeated cuts do little more than hold an Angelic Drood in place:

I ran to join them, with Molly pounding gamely along beside me. Maggie was still my Matriarch, and the family needed her more than it needed a field agent who was already dying. I hit the Angel from behind, my sword slicing right through his spine. He fell to one knee, but his armour had already sealed over whatever damage I might have done to the body beneath. I cut at the Angel again and again while it was down, but it was all I could do to hold it there. -Moonbreaker

A dragon's fire is powerful enough to not only melt the original armour, but also kill the Angelic Droods underneath:

Massive wings flapped powerfully, driving the dragon on in defiance of gravity and nature, as he flew for the first time in centuries.
He opened his mouth and blasted the Angelic Droods with long streams of supernatural fire, targeting each one expertly. My family fell back quickly to give the dragon room to work, but he never missed once. The old Heart armour of the Angelic Droods was no match for the dragon’s fiery breath. They staggered back and forth, screaming horribly, until one by one they crashed to the ground and lay still, their armour melted away or fused together. Molly finally reached me, and I armoured down so she could hold me and I could lean on her.
It was all over very quickly. What was under the Angels’ armour turned out to be mortal after all. -Moonbreaker

Another recap of what Grendel Rex did in during his reign. He managed to strengthen his torc away from the Heart, then used that power to mind-control and then overwrite the personalities of every existing Drood he knew of. Then he spread that control to the entire planet:

“Gerard Drood came to power in the Eleventh Century,” I said. “He found a way to improve and strengthen his torc, away from the Heart, and then used that power to take personal control of every mind in the family. He made every one of them think like him, become him. Or, at least, all the Droods he knew about. There were very-secret agents even then; a family inside the family. They kept their heads down and did their best not to be noticed, until they could figure out what to do.”
“Why weren’t they affected?” said Molly. “How were they able to avoid being mind controlled?”
“That’s not in the official history,” said the Librarian. “But, then, agents of that kind always liked to keep things to themselves.”
I remembered Peter and his secrets. The Matriarch gestured for me to continue.
“Gerard Drood expanded his control to the rest of Humanity,” I said steadily. “Whole countries fell under his sway, entire populations bowing their heads to his overwhelming will. In time, they would all have become him. And he would have been Grendel Rex, the Drood who ate the world. A living god, or a living devil." -Moonbreaker

The Droods of the time were completely unable to kill him:

“But why are you all looking so worried?” said Molly. “Grendel Rex is safely imprisoned, isn’t he?”
“Buried deep below the permafrost, under the Siberian steppes,” I said. “Because back in the Eleventh Century, Siberia must have seemed like the end of the earth. They buried him deep and left him there, wrapped in powerful chains and potent curses. To wait till Judgement Day, or beyond.”
“They buried him alive?” said Molly.
“They couldn’t destroy him,” I said. “Not after everything he’d done to himself. What he’d made himself into." -Moonbreaker

The fully-regrown dragon states that dragons "know where everything is", and that they fly between dimensions whenever they take flight:

“You need to get to the Museum of Unattached Oddities in a hurry. I can take you straight there in no time at all. Right now, if you want.”
“You know where it is?” I said.
“I know where everything is,” he said calmly. “Dragons just do. It’s a gift. And I can get you there really quickly, because dragons fly between dimensions, passing directly from one place to another. And no, we won’t be noticed when we arrive, because no one ever sees a dragon unless we want them to.” -Moonbreaker

Some elaboration on the specifics of Grendel Rex's imprisonment; his tomb is actually just a gateway to a sealed pocket dimension, which is where he's really trapped:

“So, what would it take,” said Molly, “to free Grendel Rex from his tomb? Hypothetically speaking?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” I said. “Technically speaking, he isn’t really in his tomb. As in, not physically present. Otherwise it would be far too easy for some damned fool to just dig him up. The Unforgiven God is actually imprisoned in a separate pocket dimension. The tomb just holds the only access point.” -Moonbreaker

Brief physical struggle between Eddie and Edmund:

I headed straight for Edmund, and he turned to face me.
We slammed together like two golden statues, trading blows strong enough to move mountains. We raged up and down the aisle, wrestling with each other, smashing priceless and irreplaceable items as we surged back and forth. I didn’t feel the impact of his blows, and I didn’t think he felt mine, but still we struck at each other with all the strength our armours could provide. The golden strange matter rang like bells as we landed blow after blow, but we couldn’t hurt each other. We smashed our way through display cases and overturned standing cabinets full of treasures. Trestle tables collapsed, and the wonders of the world were trampled underfoot as we ploughed through everything that got in our way. Leaving a trail of wreckage and devastation because we couldn’t see anything but each other.
The world can be a very fragile place, when Droods go to war.
Wild energies went streaking through the room as their receptacles were destroyed. Magics ran loose as their bindings were broken. Things came alive, or turned into other things, and ran madly up and down the aisles. I caught a glimpse of the medieval armour smashing its way out of the cabinet and then turning on Molly. Edmund took advantage of my momentary distraction to grab me with both hands, lift me off my feet, and throw me half-way down the room. -Moonbreaker

Edmund's armour no-sells an attack from a Hand of Glory made from the hand of an angel:

Finally Molly reached behind her and produced the Hand of Glory made from the severed hand of an angel. Bright blue flames shot up from its fingertips, and just like that Edmund slammed to a halt, held motionless by the Hand’s power. For a moment I thought the fight was over, and then Edmund broke the Hand’s influence with one sweep of his arm. The blue flames puffed out, and the Hand was just a hand. Edmund surged forward impossibly quickly, grabbed Molly by the throat with one golden hand, and lifted her off her feet. And then he turned his featureless face mask to look at me.
“That’s close enough, Eddie! Keep your distance, or I’ll kill her! Let me go, and you can have her back.” -Moonbreaker

Molly empowers herself with the Manx Medallion, an artifact created by Morgana La Fae:

“When were you going to tell me you’d stolen the Hand of Glory?” I said.
She pouted. “A girl’s entitled to a souvenir. I had this feeling it might come in handy.”
“I’d already picked you up a little something,” I said. “I should have given it to you right away, and then we might have avoided all this.”
I handed her the Manx Medallion, and she looked at it wonderingly.
“When did you . . . How . . . ?”
“It’s all yours,” I said. “A repository of stored magics, packed full of supernatural vitamins. Just what you need to recharge your batteries.”
She closed her hand around the wooden amulet, and immediately violent energies sprang up around her, crackling fiercely on the air. They sank down into her, and Molly put back her head and laughed raucously as power surged through her. I could feel its presence in the room, beating on the air like the wings of a giant bird. Molly put the cord around her neck and let the amulet dangle between her breasts.
“Now, that’s more like it! I feel like myself again.” She stopped and looked at me. “All this power, and I still can’t do the only thing that matters to me. I can save myself, but I can’t save you. I’m so sorry, Eddie.”
“You can help me stop Edmund from raising the Unforgiven God with the Immaculate Key,” I said. -Moonbreaker

Grendel Rex's tomb is absurdly durable, so that nobody can break into it and he himself can't break out:

“My plans usually involve subterfuge, sneakiness, and extreme violence, and I don’t see any of them working here. Okay. The tomb is just the access point to the pocket dimension that makes up Grendel Rex’s real prison. So couldn’t we just destroy the tomb, make it impossible for him to come back? Blow it up or something?”
“I could always dig down to the tomb and breathe flames on it,” said the dragon. “My breath could set an igloo on fire.”
“Nice thought,” I said. “But the tomb was designed to be unbreakable. To keep everyone else in the world out, as well as him in. You could set off a nuke right on top of the tomb and not even scratch it.”
“Really?” said Molly. “Has anyone ever tried?”
“Not as far as I know,” I said. “I’m sure I would have heard. But I have seen the specifications for the tomb. Supposedly, the sun could go nova and incinerate the earth and the tomb would still survive, floating alone in space.”

Complete WTF statement regarding Grendel Rex's power:

“Try this one on for size: Is Grendel Rex likely to be more or less powerful, after centuries of being buried alive?”
“Nobody knows,” I said. “Not least because we’ve never been able to figure out exactly what it was he did to make himself so powerful. He only had Heart armour back then. He shouldn’t have been able to do any of the things he did.”
“Why didn’t the Heart do something to stop him?”
“Good question,” I said. “The only answer that makes any sense is that Grendel Rex made himself more powerful than the Heart. Is there anything scarier than a self-made god who’s pulled himself up by his own spiritual boot-straps?” -Moonbreaker

Grendel foresaw the entire plot of the final book, apparently:

“Hello, Eddie,” said Gerard Drood. “Welcome back. I’ve been expecting you.”
Molly looked at me. “Only three sentences and already he’s freaking me out. How could he be expecting us?”
“Because I arranged all of this,” said Gerard. “Hello, Molly Metcalf. You are welcome here too. Try not to get in the way.”
Molly glared at me. “He knows who I am. How does he know who I am?” She raised her voice. “How do you know who I am?”
“I foresaw all of this long ago, before the family imprisoned me,” said Gerard. His voice was calm and even and very patient. “It’s why I allowed them to put me away.” -Moonbreaker

Grendel reads the minds of Eddie and Molly easily:

Molly leaned in close so she could murmur in my ear. “Do you actually believe any of this?”
“Some of it rings true. As for the rest, maybe he believes it. Maybe he made himself believe it.”
“You can’t hide anything from me,” said Gerard. “I’m listening to your thoughts, not your voices. Picking the modern words right out of your heads. Language has changed so much since my time, become larger and more evocative. I approve. Only living things change and grow, even if they have their roots in dead things. The Droods are the past, and I am the future. I know why you’re here, Eddie.” -Moonbreaker

Grendel wasn't going to stop at subjugating humanity. He planned on remaking the entire universe in his own image:

“I have to ask,” said Molly. “What was your plan, exactly? Once you’d subjugated all of Humanity, and made everyone in the world think your thoughts . . . what then?”
“Why stop at Humanity?” said Gerard. “Why stop at the world? I wanted to remake the whole universe in my image.” -Moonbreaker

Grendel's extremely vague answer to how he managed to become stronger than he was before:

“You were never a god,” I said. “Just a Drood with an upgrade. How did you do that, Gerard? How could that old Heart armour transform you so completely?”
“By my not thinking of it as armour. Such a limiting concept. I took it inside me, joined with it on every physical and spiritual level there is. It wasn’t easy; the process nearly killed me. But then . . . I woke up. All the way up, and found myself a god.” -Moonbreaker

Grendel immediately identifies that Edmund is not from the main timeline the books are set in:

“So, this is the proper location for the tomb. Looks just as dreary as the other place. I should have known the book would be misleading; it’s what I would have done. I was just considering what to do next when you set off a fireworks show just for me! And now . . . here I am. Hello, ancestor Gerard! I’ve come to set you free.”
“Hello, Edmund,” said Gerard. “Here you are, just as I foresaw. Though not quite what I expected. I’m no ancestor of yours . . . because you’re not from around here, are you?” -Moonbreaker

Grendel created the Immaculate Key, the very concept of the "Art of Unlocking" made manifest in the world:

“That is the Immaculate Key,” I said. “Doesn’t look like much, does it? Just an old-fashioned metal key. But that simple object is the Art of Unlocking—a concept cast in metal, a function given shape and form. A key to open any lock, spring any trap, break any binding.”

[...]

I could see Edmund was thrown by that, but he recovered quickly. “It doesn’t matter where I’m from; what matters is what I’ve brought with me. The Immaculate Key! Just the thing to open a tomb that was never meant to be opened.”
“I know,” said Gerard. “That’s why I created it. So it could do what I needed it to do.” He laughed softly. “Don’t look so surprised, Eddie. When you’re a living god, Time is just another direction to look in.”

(Apparently Grendel considers time to be "just another direction" as well. Take that for whatever it's worth.)

Both Edmund and Grendel Rex are unaffected by the Moon's lack of atmosphere and oxygen:

I spun round to see Edmund and Gerard standing before a Door-sized Merlin Glass on the other side of the chamber. Edmund smiled cheerfully at me. He wasn’t wearing his armour but seemed entirely unaffected by his surroundings. Presumably the fake torc the Immortals made for him came with its own built-in protections. Gerard didn’t seem bothered by the lack of air or pressure or gravity, but, then, he was a living god and presumably above such things. -Moonbreaker

Grendel Rex psychically stops an entire army of creatures, enough to fill the chamber they're in from wall-to-wall:

Strange creatures stepped through the opened doorways all around the chamber. Some tentatively, as though they couldn’t believe their good fortune, while others burst through as though afraid the Doors might slam shut at any moment. Some strode, some lurched, and some were so big they had to bend right over to squeeze through the openings. Some of the new arrivals were almost human, and some were so monstrous their very presence threatened to break the underlying laws of our reality.
Edmund stared wildly around him, his face slack with shock and horror. “What have you done, you bitch? What have you done? ”
“Evened the odds,” said Molly.
A thing made out of sticks headed straight for the control column. It smelled of forest fires and the decaying materials from which all life springs. A flood of writhing tentacles burst through another doorway lined with unblinking eyes and barbed sucker mouths. They snapped forward to wrap themselves around Gerard, only to stop abruptly as he looked at them. More and more creatures emerged from the opened Doors: things with insect heads, machine heads, star-shaped heads—or no heads at all. Creatures lunged forward from all sides, with vicious snapping teeth, metal claws, and limbs like bludgeons. There were faces that shone like the sun, and others too awful to look at.
Soon the chamber was packed from wall to wall with enough monstrosities to overwhelm all of us, including a living god. But fortunately for us, they all took one look at each other and went mad with rage. Each launched itself at its nearest enemy, attacking with savage strength and terrible intensity. Blood sprayed across the chamber in a dozen different colours, splashing on the struggling crowd. Some fell to the floor, to hiss and steam as they ate into the glowing stone.
Molly and I stood back to back by the control column, ready to defend it and ourselves, but for the moment none of the creatures seemed interested in us.
“Gerard!” Edmund screamed, his back pressed up against the Merlin Glass. “Stop this! Send them all back!”
And just like that, every single creature stopped dead, frozen in place, brought to a standstill by the power of Grendel Rex’s will. Creatures still emerging through open doorways were stopped and forced back by the sheer psychic pressure in the chamber. Slowly, one by one, the creatures turned away from their private war and headed back to their own Doors. Grendel Rex was sending them home, because we already had enough monsters in this chamber. -Moonbreaker

This is the size of that chamber:

We rounded a corner and found ourselves at the top of another stairway. A narrow stone spiral, falling away into the depths. We followed it down for some time until it suddenly turned and then opened out abruptly, into a circular chamber perhaps a hundred feet in diameter, with a ceiling only ten or twelve feet above us. The floor’s polished stone shone so brightly its light filled the whole chamber and reflected back from the crystalline ceiling. -Moonbreaker

Eddie and Edmund battle each other one more time, during which they hit each other with blows "that could have shattered mountains". Apparently their armour has grown "accustomed" to each other as well, allowing them to take each other's hits without damage:

And while the creatures were only concerned with their Doors, and Gerard was concerned only with the creatures, I went for Edmund. He armoured up at last to face me, golden armour closing over him in a moment. I saw my own reflection in his featureless golden mask, and I looked like death. Then the two of us slammed together, striking at each other with fists that could have shattered mountains, driven on by hate and rage without limit, and our armour took it. The impacts from our fists sounded like tolling bells, but neither my armour nor his cracked or dented. They’d grown accustomed to each other.
We raged back and forth across the chamber, knocking creatures down and trampling them underfoot. And still the broken things crawled and heaved themselves towards their waiting Doors.
“Why don’t you just die and get it over with?” said Edmund.
“Why don’t you?” I said. -Moonbreaker

Eddie throws Edmund the entire length of the chamber, plowing him through numerous creatures in the process:

I grabbed hold of him, lifted him off his feet, and threw him the length of the chamber. He smashed through a line of shuffling creatures, slammed into a closed Door, rebounded, and hit the floor hard. -Moonbreaker

Eddie manages to...you know what? Just read:

I locked my golden hands around his golden throat, took a savage hold, and bore down with everything I had. Remembering what I’d done to the Angelic Drood outside Drood Hall. Where my superior armour had briefly overwhelmed the old Heart-derived armour. I also remembered how my Merlin Glass had joined and melded with the Glass from Edmund’s world. Two similar objects, becoming one. I grinned under my mask. I’d been thinking about how to take Edmund down for a long time.
I concentrated, and my hands passed through my armour and his until they fastened onto Edmund’s bare neck. I made my armour return feeling to my hands, so I could feel Edmund’s throat convulse and close under my grip. My hands hurt horribly, but it was worth it to feel the breath stop in Edmund’s throat. He panicked, thrashing wildly underneath me, striking out hysterically with both fists. And then he grabbed my golden wrists with his golden hands and tried to break my hold. But I had come too far to be stopped now. I was ready to kill Edmund for all the things he’d done. I was ready to die, to keep Edmund from Moonbreaker.
Unless . . . my plan worked.
My armour was more powerful than Edmund’s, which meant the torc Ethel gave me should be more powerful than the fake torc the Immortals made for Edmund. And if the Merlin Glass could join with another Merlin Glass . . . And if Edmund and I really were the same person, with two different minds . . . I laughed as it all came together, finally. One last plan to deal with everything.
It might not have worked anywhere else. But in this place, at this time, in a chamber saturated with unnatural energies from so many different worlds . . . I reached out through my torc and took control of Edmund’s. And then I used both torcs to switch my consciousness with that of Edmund’s, putting my mind in his body and trapping his mind in what used to be my body. I took my torc with me, snapping it around my new throat, and put the fake torc on Edmund’s.
Suddenly I felt well and healthy, better than I had in ages. Sensations blasted through me, all the feelings I’d been cut off from, and it felt good, so good. I’d never felt so alive. Edmund cried out, shrieking in shock and horror, as everything I’d been enduring hit him all at once. His hands fell away from my throat as his whole body convulsed from the poison raging unchecked through his system. I put one hand on his chest and pushed, and he fell backwards onto the stone floor, thrashing violently. He tried to get up and couldn’t.
“What have you done?” he screamed. “What have you done to me?”
I waited a moment. My throat was still sore from where I’d strangled it, and I wanted to be sure I could speak clearly. I wanted Edmund to understand me.
“You took my body away from me,” I said finally. “So I’ve taken yours. Seems only fair. Justice and revenge, in one neat package.” -Moonbreaker

The protections surrounding the Merlin Glass, protections crafted by Merlin fucking Satanspawn, suddenly disappear one by one:

I nodded to Molly to keep an eye on Edmund and Gerard, while I moved quickly over to the Merlin Glass. Its Door stood a good head taller than me, but the mirror was just a mirror. All it showed me was my own reflection: a Drood in his armour. I considered the Glass thoughtfully. I had to know: Who could be in there, powerful enough to control Grendel Rex? I pressed the golden fingertips of one hand against the mirror and then extended a series of golden tendrils, the way I do when I want my armour to hack a computer. The tendrils tapped across the reflective surface, unable to find or force a way in, and then they were sucked suddenly forward into the Glass, diving into the mirror as though it was a bottomless pool. I was about to jerk my hand back when the tendrils came flying out again, as though they’d burned themselves. I backed quickly away from the Merlin Glass, the tendrils snapping back into my glove. Through my armoured mask I could see all the old locks in the Glass opening. All the protections put in place by Merlin Satanspawn himself were disappearing, one by one. And finally, after so many centuries of solitary confinement, the prisoner in the Merlin Glass stepped out into the light. -Moonbreaker

Morgana La Fae in all of her splendor:

She was tall and stately and supernaturally beautiful, the kind of woman you dream of during really bad fevers. She smiled at me, sweet as cyanide, attractive and seductive as every impulse you just know is going to get you into trouble. She wore long, sweeping scarlet silks and a towering jewelled headdress to show off her tumbling flame-red hair. She smiled at me and at Molly, and Molly flinched.
“Oh shit,” she said.
I looked at her. “It’s never good when you say that. How bad is this?”
“You don’t know who that is?”
“No. Should I?”
“How can you not know who that is?” said Molly, not taking her eyes off the newcomer for a moment.
“Well, pardon me for being a bit slow,” I said. “But I was dying until just a moment ago. Who are we looking at?”
“All witches know her,” said Molly. “All witches know Morgana La Fae.”
“Oh shit,” I said. -Moonbreaker

She's the only magic user in history whose magic is equal to that of Merlin:

“The only magic user ever to be the equal of Merlin Satanspawn. Half-sister to King Arthur, and mother to his son, Mordred. The destroyer of Camelot.”
“The original woman of mystery,” I said. “The power behind thrones . . . Heaven and Hell, wrapped up in one beautiful vision.”
“She’s dangerous, Eddie,” said Molly.
“I know,” I said. -Moonbreaker

Even while imprisoned within the Merlin Glass, she was able to reach out and manipulate various energies that were released when Molly broke the seals on numerous dimensional doors:

“How did you get out of the Glass, after all this time?” said Molly.
“You made it possible, little witch,” said Morgana. “Edmund wedged the Door open when he called on my power to subdue Gerard Drood. But then you broke the seals on all the Doors, letting loose all kinds of interesting energies for me to make use of.” -Moonbreaker

Morgana easily removes Edmund's torc from his body:

Morgana looked dispassionately at the golden figure writhing on the floor. “You were never my ally, Edmund; just a means to an end. And now . . . I don’t need you. I am free at last. And after all this time plotting my revenges, I think I’ll start with you.”
She gestured sharply, and Edmund was suddenly hanging helplessly on the air before her. For a moment I felt like I should intervene, or at least say something, but the moment passed. I didn’t have any mercy left in me for Edmund or Dr DOA, who killed so many people just because he could. Morgana gestured again, and Edmund’s armour disappeared. I made a sound, and so did Molly, as we saw what had become of my old body. What Edmund’s poison had done to it. -Moonbreaker

Turns out, Edmund's final form is the same giant thing that appeared within the Sanctity in Book 1. At Eddie's request, Morgana sends it back in time, to meet the fate it was dealt there:

He was just a horrid cancerous mass now, devastated and distorted by the poison raging unchecked through his system. He looked like he was made out of malignant growths, like sickness and death made solid. His flesh was scarlet and purple, glistening wetly and shot through with dark, bulging veins. Without the armour to hold it back, his body swelled up to more than human size, driven beyond human limitations by the sheer power of the poison. Rows of human eyes stared out of the pulpy mass that had once been my face. The body continued to grow in sudden jerks and convulsions as the cancers ran wild, multiplying beyond sense or reason, until what had been the thing’s head slammed up against the crystal ceiling. New limbs burst out of the central mass, as though reaching out for help that would never come.
The fate Edmund had meant for me.
“Seems almost a shame to kill you,” said Morgana. “You suffer so beautifully, Edmund. But I think I’d better. There’s always the chance you might pull off some last-minute miracle save, like your counterpart.”
“Go ahead,” said Molly. “Put him out of everyone’s misery.”
“Hold it,” I said. “I have a better idea.”
Because I recognised the thing before me. I’d seen it once before long ago, and now I saw an opportunity for some real poetic justice, along with the final solution to a long-standing mystery. I told Morgana what I had in mind, and she laughed softly.
“Trust a Drood to find a measure of revenge in justice and duty. Very well, Eddie. A favour, for old time’s sake. And because it amuses me.”
She gestured dismissively at Edmund and sent him hurtling back through Time. To reappear back in Drood Hall at the moment I remembered all those years ago. When a hideous cancer monster had appeared out of nowhere in the Sanctity. We all thought it had come to attack the Heart, so we banded together and destroyed the thing. I remembered how it died, and I smiled. It seemed fitting that the man who’d killed one family of Droods should be killed by another. Justice and revenge, in one neat package. -Moonbreaker

Even while imprisoned, Morgana was powerful enough to control Grendel Rex, a being whose psychic powers had become immense enough to control all of humanity, and whose torc had become one with his body long ago (meaning his psychic protection should be at least as great as his own psychic might, as his power came from the absorption of hundreds of other torcs on top of him fusing with his own on every level):

I looked past him at Gerard. “And you’re prepared to let him do this, Grendel Rex? I thought you wanted to rule Earth when you returned? You can’t rule it if Edmund destroys it, and it doesn’t sound like he plans to share his toys once he gets back to his own world.”
But Gerard didn’t say anything. He just stood where he was, looking at nothing, and for the first time I realised how empty his eyes were.
“Gerard?” I said. “What’s wrong with you?”
Edmund sniggered softly. Like a schoolboy who thinks he’s gotten away with something and can’t wait to show you how clever he’s been.
“I’m afraid the Unforgiven God isn’t home right now. He only answers to me. You do remember, I told you there was someone else inside the Merlin Glass, imprisoned there by Merlin himself long ago? I found them waiting for me when I was forced to hide out inside your Glass. And they were ever so grateful for the company, after so many centuries in solitude. I made a deal with them, for the temporary loan of their power. To hide me from the Powers in this world, so I could operate as Dr DOA and put my plans in motion, and now to make sure Gerard only does what I tell him to do. In return, I will take the Glass and its prisoner back to my world, where it should prove much easier to help them escape.” -Moonbreaker