In the manor across the swamp, the computer’s magnetic tapes started spinning furiously. Isma, who had gone without sleep or rest, had been analyzing data to give Set a body. The computer rejected all the commands he typed, and the screen started scrolling rapidly, as if a huge amount of data had gone haywire.
"What's going on!?"
Isma stood up as the concrete under his feet cracked with a terrible rending sound. Gouts of flame erupted from the cabling, and the hexagram inscribed on the floor started undulating as if it was alive. The cellar was filled with the murmurs of otherworldly voices.
"Set is going to be born!"
"He's finally going to be born!"
Ancient Aramaic, Hebrew, Greek...all the voices, regardless of the languages they spoke in, started blending together in a disordered cacophony.
Born? What do they mean by born?
Isma just managed to stumble outside. There, his supernaturally heightened senses detected a demonic power far beyond anything he had ever experienced gathering on the opposite side of the swamp.