Secret Histories feats (Daemons Are Forever)

I'm including this because it made me laugh:

“They really did a job on you,” said Molly. She was trying hard not to step on things, but it was impossible. I loved her for making the effort, though.

“It’s what I expected,” I said. “I did worse, in my time, when I was a field agent. Turning over some villain’s lair in the search for clues, or evidence. Or just because I could. It was all part of the game, then. But . . . cosmic payback’s a bitch. Do you believe in karma, Molly?”

“My karma ran over my dogma,” Molly said briskly. -Daemons Are Forever

Okay, another one:

“Right,” said Molly, smiling mischievously. “Where do you keep your really secret stuff, Eddie? Your embarrassing photos of yourself as a kid, your old teenage crush love letters, and your own personal naughty films? Any particular favourites you might want to bring along with you? I can be very broad-minded . . .”

“I don’t have any of those things,” I said with some dignity.

Molly sighed and shook her head. “For a secret agent, you’ve led a very sheltered life. Not to worry, Eddie. I’ll be your porn.”

I smiled. “And they say romantic banter is dead.” -Daemons Are Forever

Some more of what Molly can do with her magic:

The armoured men realised their bullets were having no effect on me, and the fusillade died raggedly away. Molly immediately stepped out from behind me, raised her arms in the stance of summoning, and called down the elements.

“Awake, awake, ye northern winds . . .”

A great stormwind came howling down the road. It picked the armoured men up and sent them tumbling head over heels the whole length of the street. Some hid in doorways or behind cars and concentrated their fire on Molly. The bullets punched through the raging wind, only to turn into rose petals before they got anywhere near her. She was protected by all the magics of the wild wood, and nothing from the material world could touch her. She only let me protect her because she knew it made me feel better. She gestured sharply, and lightning stabbed down from the darkening skies, picking out armoured men in their hiding places and incinerating them.

New men arrived from concealing positions, carrying heavier weapons. They forced their way forward against the howling winds, step by step. Molly stabbed a finger at them, and the street was suddenly full of a dozen or so very confused-looking llamas.

Molly was on a roll. -Daemons Are Forever

Molly turns bullets into butterflies, then melts all of the tires on several cars:

Armoured cars came rolling down the street, firing really big guns from embrasures. Molly turned their gunfire into pretty butterflies, and then melted all the cars’ wheels with a wave of one hand. They ground to a halt, steel rims digging into the road. -Daemons Are Forever

Molly can "turn sideways from the world", holding herself halfway between dimensions in order to avoid attacks:

We both looked up. The two black attack helicopters were descending upon us. They came roaring in from both ends of the street at once, raking us with machine-gun fire, explosive fléchettes, and long sticks of incendiaries. I just stood there and took it, untouched by the bullets or the explosions or flames that rose up around me. The armoured men around me didn’t fare as well, and broke away screaming and slapping at their burning armour. Molly turned briefly sideways from the world, and it all went right through her, like a ghost. But while she held herself midway between dimensions like that, she was helpless to fight back. So it was down to me to do something about the helicopters. -Daemons Are Forever

Molly BFRs a bunch of people's clothes, then threatens to do something "probably involving Möbius strips" to their intestines:

I did try to be polite, and answer the questions of those nearest me, but no one could hear me in the general bedlam of voices. And no one in the crowd was willing to quieten down in favour of someone else. It’s times like this I wish my armour was equipped with pepper sprays. Or water cannon. In the end I looked at Molly, and she grinned mischievously. She muttered a few Words and made a sharp gesture, and suddenly everyone in the angry mob was entirely naked and wondering where the cold breeze was coming from. The bedlam died quickly away to a shocked silence, followed by a few squeaks and squeals as a hundred or so naked Droods did their best to cover themselves with their hands or hide behind each other. Molly glared about her, her smile entirely unpleasant.

“Right; everyone pay attention and stay quiet, or I’ll send you where I sent your clothes. And your clothes aren’t coming back. Or at least, not in any condition where you could hope to wear them again. Ye gods and little fishes, look at the state of you. Living proof that most people look better with their clothes on. Now be good little naked people and run away terribly quickly, before I decide to do something really amusing to you. Probably involving Möbius strips and your lower intestines.”

I never saw so many people disappear so quickly, or so many entirely unattractive arses. I looked at Molly, and she smiled sweetly.

“You see—you just have to know how to talk to people.”

“You haven’t even heard of diplomacy, have you?”

“No. And aren’t you glad?”

“Well, yes.” -Daemons Are Forever

First appearance and description of Merlin's Glass:

“Jacob and I have been studying in the old library,” said the Armourer. “When I can tear him away from his . . . other pursuits. And we’ve turned up some quite remarkable items. A number of books thought to be long lost, or destroyed, a number of ancient maps of dubious provenance but exciting possibilities . . . and a handful of lost and quite legendary treasures. That . . . is Merlin’s Glass. It disappeared from the Armageddon Codex in the late eighteenth century, under somewhat murky circumstances. Jacob discovered it inside a hollowed-out book about voles.”
“Don’t even know what made me look there,” Jacob said cheerfully. “I was just looking for something with dirty pictures.”

“Hold everything,” said Molly. “Though not literally in your case, Jacob. Merlin’s Glass. Are we talking about the Merlin?”

“Oh yes,” said Jacob.

“He was a Drood?” said Molly.

“Hardly,” said the Armourer. “We do have our standards. No, he was Merlin Satanspawn, the Devil’s only begotten son. Born to be the Antichrist, but he refused the honour. He always had to go his own way . . . But according to some quite fascinating records in the old library, he did work with the family, on occasion. When it suited him. And apparently he owed us a favour, and repaid it by gifting us that mirror.”

Molly reached out for it, and I handed it over. She muttered some Words over the mirror, made a few quick gestures, and even held it upside down and shook it in the hope something might fall out, but nothing happened. Molly sniffed and handed the mirror back to me.

“All right,” she said. “I’ll bite. What’s it supposed to do?”

“It can be used to make contact with other members of the Drood family, in the past or the future, to ask them for advice or information.”

There was a pause, and then Molly said, “No offence guys, but I think you got stiffed on the deal. I mean, it’s not the most useless magic object I’ve ever seen . . . but it comes pretty damned close.”

“You’re a witch,” the Armourer said kindly, “and therefore used to thinking mainly in terms of the here and now. The Glass has many uses. Vital information lost in this time can be found in the past, before it was lost. Or in the future, after it has been rediscovered. The greatest family tacticians, of the past or the future, are now ours to consult. We can even take specific advice from the future, on which matters to pursue and which are best left strictly alone . . .” -Daemons Are Forever

It can't be used for anything but Drood business:

“I know it’s dangerous, and I don’t care,” I said. “Tell me, Uncle Jack, can I use this Glass to talk to my parents in the past, before they were murdered?”

“I’m sorry,” the Armourer said gruffly, kindly. “I thought of that. There’s always someone we’d like to speak to in the past. Friends and relatives and loved ones, gone too soon, before we could say all the things we meant to say to them. The things we put off saying, because we always thought there’d be time . . . until suddenly there wasn’t. But the Glass doesn’t allow anyone to ask questions for personal gain. Only for the good of the family. And the Glass can always tell the difference. A built-in safety factor, perhaps, to prevent . . . abuse of time.”

“Or perhaps the sorcerer Merlin Satanspawn just had a built-in nasty streak,” said Molly.

“There is that,” said the Armourer. -Daemons Are Forever

First mention of the Time Train:

“There’s always the Time Train,” said Penny unexpectedly.

“No there isn’t,” the Armourer said quickly.
“What the hell is a Time Train?” said Molly. “And why do I get the feeling I’m really not going to like the answer?”

“Must be your witchy senses working overtime,” I said. “Damn, I haven’t thought about the Time Train in years . . . It’s a means of travelling through time, though perhaps a little stranger than most. No one’s used it for ages. I suppose it is still functional . . . Armourer?”

“Well, yes, technically,” said the Armourer. “But some things are just too dangerous to mess with.”
I had to raise an eyebrow. “This, from the man who wanted our best telepaths to try setting off all the atomic warheads in China, just by having the telepaths think really nasty thoughts at them?”

“That would have worked, if the Matriarch hadn’t stopped me,” said the Armourer sulkily. “All my best ideas are ahead of their time.” -Daemons Are Forever

When the presence from Hell invades the Hall, the Hall's many detections can't even see it:

I listened carefully to the murmur of voices all around me as the technicians spoke quietly to each other in calm, professional, and utterly baffled voices.

I have rising power levels. All boards are green, all weapons systems on line.

Can anybody see anything? My sensors are clear, right across the board.

Hold it; I’m getting something. A definite Infernal presence.

Infernal? Are you sure?

Hey, it’s not something you can easily confuse with anything else. There’s something from the Pit, right here in our backyard.

Get ready to switch the lawn sprinklers to holy water. And somebody put in a call to all our clerics.

Code Red. I repeat, we have Code Red. Shutting down all unnecessary systems for the duration.

Why weren’t we warned? What happened to those wonderful and very expensive new sensors I spent all last week installing?

Silent as the grave, the lot of them. Whatever’s out there, the sensors can’t see it. Even the gryphons didn’t see this coming.

Who’s got my Jaffa Cakes? You know I can’t function without Jaffa Cakes.

All weapons systems on line and available. Just find me a target and I’ll blow big meaty chunks out of it. -Daemons Are Forever

Molly can boost surveillance tech with her magic:

“I heard someone use the word Infernal,” said Molly.

“Yes, well,” said Howard. “That’s always a worrying word to hear, isn’t it? Most of our defences are scientific these days, rather than magical or mystical.”

“Then let me help,” said Molly. “I know a lot about things Infernal.”

She moved over to the nearest workstation, muttering certain unpleasant Words under her breath, and then leant past a startled technician and thrust her left hand and arm through his monitor screen. Her arm ghosted through the screen right up to the elbow, and suddenly the whole Operations Room was full of a bright otherworldly light as Molly’s magic manifested in all the systems at once. Discharging energies sputtered around her like ethereal fireworks. A great surge of power swept through all the workstations as her magic melded with and boosted all the Operations Room systems. And just like that an image appeared on the air before us, showing a crystal clear view of two men standing together beside the lake, right in the middle of the Hall’s extensive grounds. The image zoomed in to give us a close look at their faces.

“You’re welcome,” said Molly. -Daemons Are Forever

Roger, a demon half-breed, no-sells several magical attacks from Molly:

“I know who you are, you son of a bitch,” said Molly, and her voice was very cold. “I told you what I’d do to you if I ever saw you again.”
She threw up her arms in the stance of summoning. Dark clouds boiled in the sky overhead. Lightning bolts stabbed down, blasting the ground all around Roger, but they couldn’t touch him. He just stood there, smiling easily at Molly, while the rest of us dove for cover. Molly howled with fury and unleashed all the elements at once against the hellspawn.
Harry and the Armourer crouched down and scurried hurriedly out of range, while I armoured up. Hail hammered down, thick shards of ice with razor-sharp edges. I stood between Harry and the Armourer and the worst of it, protecting them as best I could. Roger wasn’t harmed at all. Gale winds blew, lightning struck, hail slammed down, and Roger Morningstar stood his ground, untouched and unmoved, smiling his maddening smile.
Molly quickly exhausted herself, and was soon reduced to throwing sputtering fireballs at Roger, none of which came close to hitting him. The dark clouds drifted away, and the elements settled themselves. I moved quickly over to Molly before she could move on to more dangerous methods, armoured down, and murmured calming, soothing words into her ear from a safe distance until she stopped glaring at Roger and turned sharply away, hugging herself tightly. I knew better than to bother her while she was in such a mood. -Daemons Are Forever

Roger sends a Groton flying with a kick, then takes a punch from Eddie in his armour:

There were snorting, coughing sounds, and we both looked around. The gryphons had tracked us down at last, and ambled over to check out the newcomers with a good sniffing. Harry tolerated it in a resigned sort of way, and then the gryphons turned to Roger. They didn’t like his smell at all, and growled at him in deep, rumbling voices. One actually snapped at him, and Roger kicked it in the ribs, sending it flying a dozen feet away. I moved quickly to stand between him and the gryphons.

“Don’t,” I said.

“Or?” he said.

It was a blatant challenge, and one I had to meet if I were to have any authority at the Hall. I subvocalised the Words and armoured up in a moment, the silver strange matter flowing over me like a second skin. I made a silver fist, and held it up before Roger’s face. And as he watched, I grew thick silver spikes out of the knuckles. Roger surged forward inhumanly quickly, his fingers like claws, his impossibly wide smile full of teeth like a shark’s. I stood my ground and punched him in the face with all my armoured strength behind it. The blow stopped him dead in his tracks, the sheer force of the impact slamming his head back so hard it would have broken an ordinary man’s neck. Roger staggered backwards, and then quickly recovered his balance. He shook his head slowly and put a hand up to his face. His nose was broken, though no blood flowed. Roger gripped the broken nose with his left hand and snapped it back into place with a painful-sounding click. I winced at the sound, and I’m sure I wasn’t the only one.

“Show-off,” Harry said easily to Roger. “Now behave yourself. I guaranteed your behaviour, remember? You want to make me look bad?” -Daemons Are Forever

Merlin's Glass can see anywhere in the present, as well as the past and future, and can also transport its user anywhere in the world:

“Pay attention, Eddie. The two most useful options are these: the Glass can see everywhere in the present, as well as the past and the future, and it can also be used as a door, for immediate transport to anywhere in the world. Just tell it where you want to go, tug at the frame till it’s big enough, and then step through.”

I gave up on the pages, folded them neatly, and stuffed them into an inside pocket of my jacket. “Thank you, Uncle Jack. I’m sure it’ll be very helpful. But I was hoping for something a bit more . . . aggressive.”

“Hold everything,” said Molly. “If the Glass can show us scenes from absolutely everywhere in the present . . . we can use it to spy on people in the shower, or on the toilet! Maybe even take incriminating photographs! The possibilities for blackmail are endless!”

“You can take the witch out of the wood . . .” murmured the Armourer. -Daemons Are Forever

Janissary Jane claims that the last demonic war she fought in resulted in her side completely nuking the universe the demons were invading:

“So, what happened?” Molly said finally.I

“That dimension isn’t there anymore,” said Janissary Jane. “The demons were winning, so we blew it up, to prevent the demons from using it as a base to invade other dimensions.” She smiled sourly. “To save the universe, we had to destroy it. Some things never change. And only I am escaped to tell you the tale. Buy me another drink, Shaman. Something stronger.”

“You don’t have to join up with us,” said Molly.

“Yes I do,” said Janissary Jane. “I need a battle I can win.” -Daemons Are Forever

Another prime example of werewolf regenerative abilities:

I couldn’t call up my armour without revealing my true identity to the whole damned club, so I drew my Colt Repeater and shot both werewolves repeatedly in the head. The impacts rocked them back on their wolf legs, but even as my bullets smashed their long skulls and ripped their wolf faces apart, the wounds were already healing. The Colt was incapable of missing, but it couldn’t provide silver bullets. I made a mental note to have a quiet word with the Armourer about that, when I got back. The Vodyanoi brothers howled fiercely as they pressed forward, into the face of my bullets. I’d hurt them, but that was all. -Daemons Are Forever

They also no-sell holy water and lasers:

The Wulfshead’s security measures finally kicked in, spraying the Vodyanoi brothers with holy water from the sprinklers and targeting them with lasers from the light fittings, neither of which bothered the two huge werewolves in the least. The club did have more stringent measures, but presumably the management was reluctant to use them unless the fight escalated into something that could threaten the whole bar. Which meant . . . my friends and I were strictly on our own. -Daemons Are Forever

Most forms of magic can't affect werewolves:

Molly had been tossing spells at the Vodyanoi brothers for some time now, but they just slid off, unable to get a grip on the werewolves’ slippery, unnatural nature. The toad spell had only worked because it caught the brothers by surprise. Molly had been reduced to throwing fireballs at them, but though the silver-gray fur burned fiercely and smelled appalling, it quickly repaired itself. -Daemons Are Forever

The Loathly Ones (basically a bunch of soul-eating demons) are shown building a gateway to the Outside. This is what it looks like:

I looked down at what the Loathly Ones were doing on the Nazca Plain. From this height they looked like ants, swarming around and over the huge structure that rose up from the heavily lined and grooved stone plain like a single alien skyscraper. It had to be three hundred feet tall now, a strange and unearthly mixture of styles and materials. Its shape made no sense at all. My mind couldn’t seem to cope with the unexpected dimensions and distortions. Just looking at it made my eyes hurt. Callan came forward to join me.

“It’s better if you look at it for just a few moments at a time. I’m pretty sure we’re looking at something that exists in more than three spatial dimensions, and what we see is only our minds trying to make sense of it. Don’t ask me what the hell it is, or what it’s for, but the Loathly Ones are all over it, all day and all night, inside and out. There’s a single opening at the base, and a lot of what goes in never comes out again. I get the feeling it’s almost finished. The pace of work has accelerated in the last twelve hours, like they’re fighting a deadline. Where are my cold drinks? I was promised cold drinks. And I’d better get a torc out of this. I’ve spent weeks out here, dodging the bastards’ patrols. Very heavily armed patrols, I might add. They kill anyone who gets too close, even clearly harmless tourists, whether they’ve seen anything or not.”

I gestured for him to shut up, and he did. My silver mask allowed me to zoom in on the towering edifice down on the plain, so I could study details as though I was right on top of them. The alien structure struck me as much as a machine as a building, designed to do . . . something, but the more I looked, the less sense it made. It didn’t take me long to discover what they’d been doing with so much livestock. The Loathly Ones had incorporated bits of them into the structure. Parts of the tower were clearly technological, even if I couldn’t identify it, but other parts were just as clearly organic. Living flesh, whole organs, bloody guts and connective tissues, even entire brains and heads. All alive, maintained as part of the functioning structure. I’d never seen anything like it before, and I’ve seen my share of alien and other-dimensional technology.
Janissary Jane came forward to stand on my other side, and I described what I was seeing to her. She nodded slowly.

“I have seen . . . something like this, before. It’s not a hellgate. Not as such. But it’s definitely a gateway of some kind.”

“So they’re planning to open a door to somewhere else,” said Molly, joining us to show she wasn’t going to be left out of things. “Maybe they’ve heard you declared war on them, Eddie, and they’re running for home while they’ve still got the chance.”

“A nice thought, but no,” I said. “They were building this long before I took control of the family.”
“And I don’t think this was designed just to open a gateway to Outside,” Janissary Jane said slowly. “It looks more like it’s designed to summon . . . something, from Outside, and bring it through into our world.”

“Reinforcements?” said Molly. “More Loathly Ones?”

“No,” said Janissary Jane. “With the power this thing uses, it would have to be something more powerful . . . something far worse than the Loathly Ones.”

“Something worse?” said Callan. “What could be worse than soul-eating demons?”

“Stick around,” I said. “If we don’t shut this thing down before they can open their gateway, you might just find out.” -Daemons Are Forever

A description of the Loathly Ones and what they do to towns:

The Loathly Ones come from somewhere else, Outside of space and time as we understand them. They have no physical presence in our world, so to survive here they have to invade a body, mentally as well as physically. Preferably human, but not always. When a Loathly One invades, or infects, a human body it eats or corrupts or drives out the soul, opinions differ, and inhabits the remaining husk. Which soon burns out from the unbearable stresses and strains the new owner puts on it. But even after the body dies, and slowly decays, it still goes on, driven by the unearthly energies of the Loathly One. Until the body finally falls apart, and then the Loathly One goes looking for a new host. We call the infected humans drones. Basically, they’re zombies driven by an alien will, for alien purposes.

They destroy lives, and eat souls. And the family brought them here, for its own purposes. We should have known they’d get out of control.

“Sometimes they take over whole towns,” said Harry unexpectedly. “They start with one family, and then take over the entire community, house by house. When they’ve taken control of everyone, they force the town out of our reality and into some kind of pocket dimension, hidden from human detection. Then they use this hidden base to launch attacks on adjoining towns. Luckily they always give themselves away by being too greedy. The family wipes these towns out as fast as we find them.

“I was involved in one such cleansing, a few years back. It was in France, down in the Bordeaux region. They call such towns ghoulvilles. The local authorities sent out a call for help after they stumbled across one during a routine missing persons investigation. I was the nearest field agent, so I took the call. Joined up with a French demon specialist; Mallorie, her name was. A bit bookish, but she knew her business. The Armourer whipped up a dimensional key and shipped it out to us by the usual unnatural express route. And Mallorie and I led a French special forces unit into the ghoulville.”

He stopped for a moment, remembering. His face was calm, reflective, but his eyes were haunted.

“Terrible place. Every nightmare you’ve ever had. The light was fierce, almost too bright for human eyes to bear. The gravity fluctuated, and directions seemed to switch back and forth when you weren’t looking. The air was barely breathable, and it stank of blood and offal and rot. We’d come in hoping to find someone to rescue, but it soon became clear we were too late. There were men and women and even children all over the ghoulville, but all of them were infected. The Loathly Ones had eaten their souls. The children were the worst. They tried to hide what they were, to trick us into getting too close, but they had no idea how to act like children.

“They attacked us. Not even trying to act like humans anymore. They came running from every direction, flailing their arms like retarded children. Came at us with all kinds of weapons, with bare hands, and even bared teeth. We killed them all. Shot them down, cut them down, stamped their lying faces into the bloody ground. Something about them, human but not human, something that used to be human but was now hopelessly corrupted, drove us all crazy. We killed and killed, up one street and down the next, kicking corpses out of the way, till the gutters ran thick with blood. Some tried to surrender, but it was just a trick, to let them get close to us.

“When we were finished, we burned the town down. Left nothing standing. It took us hours, to be sure we’d got all of them. We searched all the houses, sometimes dragging them out of hiding places under stairs, or in the backs of wardrobes. By the end, as we tramped back out of the burning ghoulville, and back to our own world, even hardened French ex-paratroopers were weeping openly. Sometimes . . . I dream I’m still back there, and always will be.” -Daemons Are Forever

"DAMN" moment:

And then, impossibly, even the armoured Droods began to fall, as the drones brought strange and unnatural weapons out of the towering structure. Some armoured Droods just disappeared, teleported God knew where whenever one drone pointed a shimmering piece of tech at them. Some Droods fell victim to howling energy blades that ghosted right through the silver armour to cut up the flesh inside. And one corpse with radiation burns and glowing eyes stamped through the chaos, somehow unsaying the Words that activated the armour, so that it just disappeared back into the collar, leaving the owner dazed and helpless and vulnerable. -Daemons Are Forever

Another example of Molly in action:

Molly was hitting them with every offensive magic she knew, chanting and cursing at the top of her voice. Drones were transformed into helpless things, and trampled underfoot. Sometimes their shapes just collapsed, and then ran away like muddy water. She called down lightning bolts from the sky, called up fire from sudden cracks in the hard ground, called storm winds to blow them away. Strange forces crackled on the air before her, incinerating anything that came too close. But her voice was cracking from the strain, and I knew she wouldn’t be able to keep this up for long. Magic takes its toll, and even her hoarded energies wouldn’t last long at this rate. -Daemons Are Forever

Molly can make people explode:

“We have to get to the base of the structure, quickly! Molly! Can you clear us a path?”

“I’m tired, Eddie. So tired . . .”

“Can you do it?”

She glared at me. “Yes! Yes, I can do it! I’m Molly Metcalf, dammit. But you’d better be right about this, Eddie . . .”

She thrust one arm in the direction of the towering structure, and just like that every drone between us and it exploded into bloody gob-bets. I made a mental note never to get Molly really mad at me, grabbed her arm, and we ran for the tower down the narrow aisle she’d opened. -Daemons Are Forever

Giles Deathstalker is apparently a descendant of the Droods:

“You’re taking my appearance very calmly,” I said. “Or are such things as this common in your time?”

He shrugged again. “I’ve seen stranger shit than this, out on the Rim. Get me out of here, stranger, and I vow to serve you as I would my emperor. Not forever; my vow to the imperial throne must take preference. But a time away from court might help the blood to cool a little . . . on both sides. Shall we say, service to you in return for my rescue, for a year and a day?”

“Sounds fair to me,” I said. But when I tried to reach through the opening, the Glass wouldn’t let me. I’d been afraid of that. “Look, I’m not really a stranger. I’m speaking to you from far in your past. I don’t know exactly how far. Centuries, certainly; maybe more. You are a descendant of my family. And my family needs a warrior’s guidance. But I can’t just . . . bring you through. You’re too far off from me. But I have another way of reaching you.”

“Better be quick,” he said dispassionately. “My enemies will be here soon. What’s your name?”

“Edwin Drood,” I said. “And yours?”

The warrior smiled. “Deathstalker. Giles Deathstalker.” -Daemons Are Forever

Angels showing up?

“Rats leaving the sinking ship,” growled the Sarjeant-at-Arms.

“Well, quite,” said Callan. “Do feel free to just chime in and interrupt my briefing whenever you feel like it, Cyril. Finally, there is patchy but convincing evidence that Heaven and Hell are taking a direct interest in what’s going on. There are reports of angels. From Above and Below.”

We all looked at Roger, who shrugged. “No good looking at me. Neither side would confide in a half-breed. In fact, they’d probably fight each other just for the privilege of killing me.”

“I know just how they feel,” I said. -Daemons Are Forever

Strange (A.K.A. Ethel, the upper-dimensional being from Book 1), is apparently weaker than the Hungry Gods:

“Strange!” I said. “Are you listening?”

“Yes, Eddie.” The voice emanating from the crimson glow sounded strangely muted, and far away. “It’s so good to see you again. You’ve been a long way; I can see it on you. And the world . . . has moved on, while you were away. Even I am not what I was, being spread so thin. Only my protections keep the family safe. It’s the Loathly Ones, Eddie. They infect the living world like a virus, like a cancer. And the more they take over, the more their presence limits me. I provide armour for the Droods, and power for the family’s weapons and defences . . . but every day I find it that little bit harder. The Hungry Gods are coming . . . and not even I can hope to stand against them once they manifest in all their awful glory.”

I’d never heard Strange sound so tired, so beaten down . . . almost defeated. He’d always seemed so powerful, so far above humanity, it had never even occurred to me that there might be other forces, other Beings, as far above him . . . -Daemons Are Forever

Giles blitzes the Sargent from across the Sanctity hall:

The Sarjeant-at-Arms took a step forward, perhaps to say something in support of Harry, or perhaps just to try to distract me, and Giles swept forward impossibly quickly, crossing the width of the hall in a moment. His long sword leapt into his hand as he slammed the Sarjeant up against the wall, and then he set the edge of the long blade against the Sarjeant’s throat. It all happened so quickly the Sarjeant didn’t have a chance to call up his armour. He looked into Giles’s cold eyes, so close to his own, and stood very still, saying nothing. A slow trickle of blood ran down his throat from where the razor edge of the sword just parted the skin over his Adam’s apple.

“Don’t,” said Giles. -Daemons Are Forever

Molly comes back from being BFR'd to Hell, then summons a blast of Heavenly light to attack Roger Morningstar:

Roger waved a hand, and a hole opened up in the floor of the Sanctity. The wooden floorboards seemed to just rot away into nothing, and the hole grew steadily, like a cancer in the body of the world. Barbed brass tentacles, already slick with spilled blood, shot up out of the hall and snapped around Molly, pinning her arms to her sides. She cried out, as though fouled by their touch, and struggled fiercely, blood spurting on the air as the metal barbs dug into her flesh. And then the tentacles snapped back into the hole, taking her with them, and the hole disappeared. The floor was solid again, untouched, as though nothing had happened. Roger turned slowly, still hanging unsupported on the air, and smiled his awful smile at me.

“I am of Hell,” he said, “and I carry it with me everywhere. So I’m never far from home. I just sent your girlfriend to Hell, Eddie Drood. Damned her forever, to eternal suffering, to the lake of flames and the torments of the Pit, just because I felt like it. How do you feel about that, Eddie Drood?”

“After I’ve killed you, I will go down into Hell and bring her back,” I said. “Whatever it takes, whatever it costs. But first I will break your body with these golden hands, and make you scream, and after all the terrible things I do to you, falling back into Hell will seem like a relief.”

“Wow,” said Molly. “Hard core, Eddie.”

We all looked around, startled, and there she was, standing untouched and unharmed where the hole had been. I ran over and took her in my arms, and we held each other tightly and nothing else mattered.

“I really thought I’d lost you,” I said.

“You really think I’d go anywhere and leave you behind?” she said.

When we finally broke apart and looked around, Roger was staring at us incredulously. And for all his Infernal presence, he didn’t look half as threatening anymore.
“You can’t be here!” he said. “You can’t! I sent you to Hell!”

“Been there, done that,” said Molly.

She snapped her fingers crisply and a hole opened in the high ceiling above us. A celestial light slammed down through the hole, shouldering its way into the mortal world like a holy spotlight, transfixing Roger where he was like a bug on a pin. He screamed horribly, thrashing helplessly in agony in the grip of that Heavenly light, and we all had to turn our heads away. The light was just too dazzling, too pure, for human eyes to look on. Just being in the same room with it hurt, as though it was burning away my imperfections. Molly snapped her fingers again, and the light snapped off, the hole in the ceiling gone in a moment. Roger fell to the floor and lay still, breathing harshly. He looked like just a man again. Harry hurried forwards to kneel beside Roger and take him in his arms. He rocked him back and forth like a hurt child, murmuring soothing words. Roger’s face was blank with shock and suffering and an indescribable horror. I looked at Molly.

She shrugged. “I’ve been around. You’d be surprised at who owes me favours. Really.” -Daemons Are Forever

Giles blitzes and stomps an entire group of Droods:

While I was still considering that, the Sanctity doors flew open and a whole bunch of Droods came running in, led by the thugs who used to guard the doors. They seemed to have got their second wind and, emboldened by reinforcements, they were back to teach us all a lesson. Unfortunately, they made the tactical error of bursting in unarmoured. Giles was off the spot and heading right for them the moment they appeared, moving impossibly quickly for someone who didn’t have Drood armour. He didn’t bother to draw his sword, just slammed into the newcomers, stopping them in their tracks, and taking them all down with swift, almost clinical precision. He struck about him with amazing skill, and every blow sent a man flying. In just a few moments he was the only man standing, surrounded by moaning and unconscious bodies. He wasn’t even breathing hard.

“Now that is what I call a fighter,” said the Sarjeant-at-Arms. I’d never heard him sound impressed before. “You did well, Edwin. This is exactly what we need.”

“Thank you for not killing them,” I said to Giles. “They’re family.”

He nodded briefly. “I know. I saw the collars around their necks. I only kill when necessary. And these poor specimens definitely weren’t worth it.” -Daemons Are Forever

A Loathly One withstands hits from Drood armour, but Giles' energy gun blasts its head off easily:

“Hit him,” I said.

Harry and the Sarjeant-at-Arms and I all armoured up and threw ourselves at what used to be Sebastian. We hit him with our golden fists, and he just stood there and took it. Harry and I extruded long blades from our golden hands and hacked at him, but the cuts closed up as fast as we made them. The thing that used to be Sebastian laughed at us and struck out with his four heavy fists, and even with all the speed our armour gave us, we were hard put to avoid them. It was the torc, you see. Sebastian still had his torc. He couldn’t wear the armour over this monstrous form, but it still protected him. Why hadn’t it protected him from infection by the Loathly Ones? Why had it hidden the infection from the rest of us?

“Don’t kill him!” I yelled to the others. “We need him alive, to answer questions!”

“Don’t kill him?” said Harry. “I can’t even hurt the bastard!”

Giles stepped forward out of nowhere, swinging his sword. The long blade came sweeping round in a long arc and slammed into Sebastian’s thick, muscular neck. The steel blade rebounded helplessly, leaving the neck undamaged, and the vibrations almost jarred the sword out of Giles’s hands. He shrugged, sheathed the sword, drew his energy gun, and shot Sebastian in the head at point-blank range. There was a bright flare of discharging energies, and when we could see again, half of Sebastian’s head had been blown away. Sebastian lurched sideways, and almost fell. Bits of charred brains fell out of his head. The Sarjeant and Harry and I grabbed him and wrestled him to the ground, using all our armoured strength to restrain him and pin him to the floor. He still bucked and heaved under us, even with half his head gone. -Daemons Are Forever

Molly's magic powers come from several pacts made with Heaven, Hell and a few other places:

“Well . . . what was all that business with Heaven and Hell, and I’ve been around ?”

“Ah,” said Molly. “Yes . . . I suppose that had to come out eventually. You’ve been very good, Eddie, really you have; not asking too many questions about what I did, and what I promised, to gain my magical powers. Possibly because you were afraid of what the answers might be. Well, relax, sweetie, I haven’t sold my soul to anyone. I made a series of pacts and deals down the years, with various Powers. Some Infernal, some Heavenly, a few alien . . . And I paid for my magic with years off my life. Don’t look like that, Eddie; I never wanted to grow old anyway. Now, of course, it would appear the whole question has become irrelevant. My various debtors were paid with years from my putative old age, and now it seems more than likely I won’t get that far. The thing growing inside me will take me long before my allotted time.” -Daemons Are Forever

The Armourer made a gun that shot miniature black holes once:

In the firing range, half a dozen armoured forms were taking it in turn to test new guns on each other. The armour soaked up all kinds of punishment from projectile guns, curse throwers, and handheld grenade launchers. The noise in the confined space was appalling.

I still remembered the time the Armourer created a gun that fired miniature black holes. It took six people to wrestle him to the ground and sit on him, and then prize the damned thing out of his hand before he could demonstrate it. -Daemons Are Forever

Some other stuff that goes on in the Armoury:

Someone else was trying to get an invisibility cloak to work, but all it was doing was making the wearer partially transparent, so we could see all his insides working. Beauty really is only skin deep. A large explosion sent half a dozen armoured figures flying through the air. No one looked around. Two of the braver or perhaps more suicidally minded, interns were duelling with atomic nunchaku behind a portable radiation shield. Rather them than me. And one guy with a third eye in the middle of his forehead was flipping urgently through his notes trying to figure out what had gone wrong.

Business as usual, in the Armoury. -Daemons Are Forever

Loathly ones existence overwrites the natural laws of reality:

“Hmmm.” The Armourer leant back in his chair, scowling thoughtfully. “Well, theoretically . . . The infection by a Loathly One is as much mental and spiritual as it is physical. The mind is changed, reprogrammed if you like, and the body adapts to accommodate the changed mind’s needs. The torcs have always protected us from telepathic attack, and demonic possession . . . but this is something else. The Loathly Ones are, after all, merely the three-dimensional protrusions into our reality of much more powerful entities. The Many-Angled Ones, or Hungry Gods, come from a place where the rules of reality are very different . . . perhaps even superior to ours. If the Loathly Ones really are from a higher reality, so to speak, their presence might be enough to actually overwrite our natural laws with their own, though of course only in a limited way. You could see each new infection as a beachhead into our reality; every new drone helping to weaken local laws in favour of their own . . . Hmmm. Yes. A very worrying thought, that. But it does give me some new ideas I can add to my test. Now I know what to look for.” -Daemons Are Forever

Ethel confirms yet again that the Hungry Gods exist in a reality beyond his:

“Are you sure, Strange?” I said. “You have to be really sure about this.”
“It’s not something I can be wrong about,” Strange said sadly. “The other-dimensional impact is really quite distinct. My torcs couldn’t protect you because the Hungry Gods come from a higher reality than mine. They scare me, Eddie. They could eat me up like a party treat.”

Another showing of Jack's immortality:

I armoured up, grew a long golden blade from my hand, stepped forward, and cut off his head with one savage blow. He didn’t move, didn’t try to evade the blow. My golden blade sheared right through his neck, and the head fell to the floor and rolled away, the eyes still blinking and the mouth still working. I stood before the headless body, breathing harshly from the rage and grief still burning within me, and only slowly realised that the body hadn’t fallen. It just stood there, by the door. No blood spurted from the neck stump. And as I watched, the body stepped slowly forward, reaching out with its hands. I backed quickly away, but it wasn’t interested in me. One hand reached down and grabbed the severed head by its hair. I made some kind of sound. I don’t know what. The body lifted up the head and put it back on the stump, and the wound healed in a moment, leaving no trace behind.

Mr. Stab looked at me expressionlessly. “You think no one ever tried that before? I’ve been beheaded, shot, poisoned, staked through the heart . . . I can’t die. That is what I bought with the deaths of five whores in 1888. Immortality, whether I want it or not. I’m Jack, Bloody Jack, Jack the Ripper, now and forever. And the only love I can ever know, the only pleasure I can ever have of a woman, is through the knife. Send me out into battle, Eddie. Maybe the Loathly Ones can find some way to kill me.” -Daemons Are Forever

Some of Roger's magic on display:

Roger hung back from the main fighting, watching carefully. He was waiting. And when the first drones appeared with glowing swords clutched awkwardly in malformed hands, he was ready for them. He pointed a finger, and they exploded. He looked at them in a certain way, and blood burst from their mouths and eyes and ears. He spoke certain Words, and their rotting flesh melted and ran away down their bodies. Roger Morningstar wore his Infernal aspect openly, and even Harry couldn’t bear to look at him directly anymore. -Daemons Are Forever

And more:

Roger strode along beside him, embracing his Infernal aspect, and the drones fell dead just for getting too close to him. Roger looked at last what he really was; a thing from the Pit walking arrogant and unleashed in the world of men, and poisoning it just by his presence. Wherever he looked, bodies exploded or burst into flames. Some he turned inside out and left to lie in the gutters. When he spoke, drones turned on themselves and tore each other apart.

He smiled a devilish smile; home at last. -Daemons Are Forever

And even more:

The Droods forced their way along behind their leaders and killed everything that came within reach. The tower loomed up before them, a door opened at the base, and a whole new army of drones came staggering and lurching out, bearing hundreds of the glowing swords. Roger spoke a single dreadful Word, and they all exploded into flames, bright crimson fires that stank of blood and brimstone, and consumed the drones as fast as they could appear. -Daemons Are Forever

Ethel confirms yet again:

“It’s the tower,” he said, sounding strangely subdued. “It’s complete, Eddie, and almost ready to activate. It’s alive and aware, though not in any way you would recognise, and I can hear it thinking. It knows I’m watching. It comes from a stranger place than I do, an even higher dimension . . . The sheer power locked up in this thing is frightening. The Invaders, the Many-Angled Ones, the Hungry Gods are coming . . . and I’m scared, Eddie.” -Daemons Are Forever

Further proof, if proof were needed:

“Is the Hall under threat?” I said.

“Looks like it,” said the communications officer. It was Howard Drood, efficient as always, come over from Operations to head the War Room during the attacks on the nests. “Something is trying to force its way into our reality, right here, pushing past all the Hall’s defensive shields. Which I would have said was impossible except for the fact that something is doing it.”

“Could it be Truman, or the Invaders?” I said. “Launching a preemptive strike against us?”

“Yes. No. Maybe. I don’t know! The screens can’t make head or tail of what’s happening.” Howard’s habitual scowl deepened as he studied the monitor screens. “I’ve never seen readings like these . . . Whatever this is, it’s coming at us like a bat out of hell. It’s already punched through the outer defences, and it’s heading straight for us.”

I flashed back to the old attacks on the Hall, when the Heart was still in residence. We never did find out for sure who was behind them. Had they chosen this moment to attack us again, while we were at our weakest and most vulnerable?

“Strange,” I said. “Talk to me. Do you know who or what this is?”

“No, Eddie.” His voice in my head was surprisingly tentative. “It’s coming from a direction I don’t recognise. From outside everything I understand as reality. It’s not very large, but it does seem to be very determined. And no, Eddie, I can’t keep it out.” -Daemons Are Forever

Janissary Jane appears, bringing the weapon (or rather, a prototype of the weapon) that was used to nuke the entire dimension/universe her last demonic war took place in. It's called the Deplorable End, and it works as such:

“Eddie. I made it back. Damn . . .”

“I saw the note you left pinned to your door with a knife,” I said, trying for a light touch. “So, did you find us some really big guns?”

“The biggest,” said Janissary Jane, trying for a smile and not quite bringing it off. “Remember, Eddie, I told you about the last demon war I fought in? The one where some damned fools accidentally opened a hellgate, and an army of demons came flooding out?”

“Yes,” I said, my heart suddenly sinking. I really didn’t like where this was going. “In the end, things got so bad you had to use a superweapon to destroy the whole universe, so the demons couldn’t use it as a base to invade other universes. I remember. I still have nightmares.”

“This is it,” said Janissary Jane. “The superweapon. The last resort. The Deplorable End.”

She held it out to me on the palm of a surprisingly steady hand. The weapon didn’t actually look like much, but then, the really nasty ones often don’t. The Deplorable End was just a flat silver box, dull and lifeless, with a red button on top. It barely filled Jane’s palm, but there was still . . . something about it. The more I looked at it, the more uneasy I felt, as though a large and dangerous animal had just entered the room. I studied the box carefully, and had enough sense not to try to touch it. The Armourer had come forward and was peering over my shoulder at it, breathing hard in his excitement.

“Now that is impressive,” he said. “You don’t see craft and workmanship like that often, these days. How many spatial dimensions has it got? I keep losing count. And the energy signatures are off the scale . . . You have got to let me get that down to the Armoury and take it apart.”

“No, Uncle Jack,” I said firmly.

“Oh come on, I’ve got this really cool hyper-hammer I’ve being dying to try out . . .”

“No, Uncle Jack! Have you stopped taking your medication again? Jane, what is that, exactly? What does it do?”

“Simple to operate,” she said, her voice dull and lifeless. Her eyes were drooping shut again as the last of her strength went out of her. “Just press the button, and . . . Boom.”

“No more tower?” I said hopefully.

“No more anything,” said Jane, blinking owlishly. “No more universe. And no, you don’t get a timer. The Deplorable End is a one-time-only deal. What I’ve got here is the original device, the prototype. We used a somewhat improved version to put an end to the demon war. What I’ve brought you is, therefore, technically speaking, untested. But it should work. No reason I know of why it shouldn’t.” She slowly lowered her hand, as though the awful thing squatting on her palm were getting heavier. “I stole this, from the Multiversal Mercenaries’ Black Museum. I had to kill a lot of people to get this to you, Eddie. Some of them were friends, once. But now I have closed the book and burned all my boats . . . I can never go back. So don’t you ever give me cause to regret this, Drood.”

“How does it work?” I said, because you have to say something.

“Like you’d understand, even if I could explain it,” said Janissary Jane, with some of her old force in her voice. “I don’t need to know how weapons work. I’m a mercenary, not a mechanic. But I’m told it’s a largely conceptual weapon. What we’ve got here is a hyperspatial key, activating the real weapon, which is hidden away in some other dimensional fold, just waiting to be unleashed. When pressed, the button on the box gives the weapon the target coordinates and . . . Boom! There you have it. Or rather, there you suddenly don’t. One less universe to trouble the gaze of God. The Deplorable End, for everyone and everything.” -Daemons Are Forever

In higher dimensions, and to higher-dimensional beings, time is just another direction to move in:

“Look,” said Jacob, prodding me firmly in the chest with a surprisingly solid finger. “The Invaders come from a higher dimension than ours, right? That means to them, time is just another direction to move in. We can use the Time Train to access their dimension and attack their homeworld from the past! They’ll never see us coming!”

“They’re bound to have hidden their homeworld,” said Jay, “inside some pocket universe or dimensional fold, confident no lesser beings from some lower dimension could ever find it. But Jacob is dead, while I’m still alive, and together we can see things no one else can.” -Daemons Are Forever

Both Eddie and Giles react to and act within the span of machinegun fire:

Molly sniffed and elbowed me aside. “Men,” she said scathingly. “If you can’t hit it or shoot it, you’re lost for an alternative.”

She stabbed an imperious finger at the steel slab, said two very old and potent Words of Power, and the slab actually shook all over before reluctantly rising back up into its slot in the ceiling. Molly smiled condescendingly back at me and Giles, no doubt ready to say something extremely cutting, and that was when the machine guns opened up. Giles grabbed Molly and threw her to the floor, covering her body with his own, ignoring her startled curses. I moved quickly to block the way, shielding everyone with my armoured form. Bullets sprayed the corridor, but my armour absorbed everything that hit it. I didn’t even feel the impact. I strode slowly forward into the hail of bullets, and almost immediately realised there weren’t any guards. Just two automated machine guns, set to cover the end of the corridor with suppressing fire, swivelling slowly back and forth on their gimbals. It looked like they were almost out of bullets, but I was in the mood to hit something, so I ripped them both off their supports and crumpled them in my golden hands. They both made satisfying squealing noises, and I threw them aside. A blessed silence fell across the corridor, apart from Molly cussing out Giles Deathstalker as he tried to help her to her feet.

“I can protect myself, thank you very much,” she snarled. “I do not need to be slammed into the floor by an overanxious, overmuscled drama queen!”

“Fine by me,” said Giles. “I’ll just leave you to die, next time.”

“I should,” I said. “It’s less trouble, in the long run.”

“I’m fine, by the way,” said Mr. Stab.

“Never doubted it,” I said, not looking around. -Daemons Are Forever

Eddie, Molly and Giles travel to the higher-dimensional universe of the Hungry Gods, and this is what they experience:

The new place hit me like a hammer, driving me to my knees. Just the weight of the world was so much more than I could stand. It was like being inside a ghoulville, only much more and far worse. The sky blazed with a fierce light, blindingly bright, as though the whole sky was a sun. The air was packed with a hundred scents, so rich and foul and intense that they fought to fill my head. Sounds everywhere, sharp and cutting, deep and disturbing, shuddering through my flesh and reverberating in my bones, as though someone was scraping their nails down my soul. I hugged myself tightly to keep from flying apart. I looked down to save myself from the incandescent sky, and the ground beneath me heaved and squirmed, covered with overcomplicated shapes that might have been vegetation or insects or something else entirely. There was so much detail my eyes watered, trying to cope with it all. Everything in this new world beat with life, as if even the ground and the stones were alive and aware, everything pulsating with an appalling aggressive vitality. There was movement all around me, swift and sharp, as though nothing here ever rested, even for a moment.

Welcome to the higher dimension. Welcome to the greater world. Welcome to the home of the Hungry Gods. It was all I could do not to puke.

I felt as much as saw Molly fall to her knees beside me, shaking and shuddering from the shock of the transition. I grabbed blindly for her, and she grabbed me, and we clung tightly together for comfort. Overpowered by a reality and a world we were never equipped to deal with. In this higher dimension, everything was just too big, too real, too insanely complicated. -Daemons Are Forever

Gateways to higher dimensions allow the user to "bring some of their world" with them, "insulating" them from the more harmful effects of trying to exist in a higher plane:

“As long as the gateway remains open, and we stick close to it, we bring some of our world here with us,” said Molly. “Just like on the Damnation Way. It . . . insulates us, from the full force of the experience.”

“Well thank the good God for that,” I said. “I really don’t think I could cope with the full-on experience. It’s like everything here has been cranked up to eleven.”

“It is a bit of a strain,” said Giles. “And I’ve been around.” - Daemons Are Forever

“We need to do what we came here to do, while we still can,” I said. “Molly, I think . . . Molly?”

“Oh shit,” said Molly.

I forced myself to raise my eyes from the ground and looked where she was looking. I heard Giles gasp as he saw them too. They were all around us. The Invaders, the Many-Angled Ones, the Hungry Gods. Huge and vast, living things big as mountains. They existed in more than just three physical dimensions at once, so my mind interpreted their appearance as a series of overlapping images, always subtly shifting, never quite the same twice. Their aspect strobed in my head, as much an impression as an image. There were circles of them, rank upon rank, impossible numbers, stretching as far away into the distance as I could bear to look. Waiting.

They rose up into the sky, all of them moving slowly but inexorably forward. Towards the gateway, still pulsating and unfolding behind us. Looking up at them gave me vertigo, as though I might suddenly be plucked off my feet and sent hurtling up into the unbearable sky. I couldn’t tell what the living mountains were made of; only that it was vile and awful, like sentient cancers, with implications my mind didn’t dare consider. They had no obvious limbs, or sense organs, but I knew they knew we were there. Small as we were in comparison, they saw us, and knew us, and hated us.

There was so much more to them than my limited human mind could cope with, more than I was capable of comprehending. I knew that. I made myself concentrate on what my eyes were showing me. They were vast and they were ancient and they were monsters. Their nature blazed forth from them, unhidden by any trace of self-deception. They knew what they were, what they had made of themselves, and they gloried in it. They were evil, evil as an almost pure concept, hating everything that wasn’t them. Because the only thing they wouldn’t or couldn’t feed on was each other. They ate life, and not just for sustenance, but for the sheer joy of destroying it. Antigods, concerned only with consuming creation. -Daemons Are Forever