Thomas couldn't sleep.
3 AM. His study was dark except for one lamp. On the desk: Patrick's oldest journal. Open to a page marked with red ink.
"The Darkness gathers. The seals weaken. By the next century, barriers between worlds will fail. We must prepare. We must build. We must protect."
Thomas closed the journal.
He didn't know every detail yet, but he knew the basics.
The Danger was real. His father Patrick had prepared for it. His uncle Henry too.
Now it was his turn.
He picked up his phone. Called Bruce.
"Meet me in the basement. Morning. We're warding the house."
Next Morning -
Blueprint of Wayne Manor spread across the table. Every entrance marked. Every window noted.
"Good." Thomas tapped the blueprint. "We start at the front door. Largest circle. Then windows. Basement last—that's the most important."
Front Door – 8 AM
Thomas knelt and started drawing. His hand moved fast. Confident. Like he'd done this a thousand times.
Because he had. The memories weren't fully back, but his hands remembered. Muscle memory from a life he barely knew.
Seven-foot circle. Exact. Triangle inside. Pentagram. One horizontal line.
"Salt barrier next," Thomas said.
He poured the salt in a continuous line. No breaks. No gaps.
Bruce watched. "How strong is this?"
"Strong enough," Thomas said. "Demons can't cross salt. Angels need invitation."
He stood up. Placed the Angel Blade in the center of the circle. Closed his eyes.
"Only humans may enter this space," Thomas said while chanted some mantra.
" Sanguis et salis. Claustrum animus. No spirit. No angel. No demon…"
Voice steady. Clear. "No spirit. No angel. No demon. No supernatural being may cross this threshold without invitation."
The salt glowed gold for two seconds. Then faded.
"Done," Thomas said. "Front door is sealed."
Bruce stepped forward. "My turn."
He took the knife. Pricked his finger. One drop of blood fell into the salt.
The circle pulsed. Recognized him.
"Now you're marked," Thomas said. "Anyone we mark can pass. Anyone else tries—they freeze at the threshold. Paralysis. Won't hurt them, but they're not getting in."
Bruce tested it. Walked through. No resistance.
"Good," he said. "How many can we mark?"
"As many as we want. But each one needs a drop of blood and a sigil on their skin. Takes five minutes per person."
"Do the team first," Bruce said. "Then the staff."
Thomas nodded. "Already planned."
Next Three Days – Windows
Twelve windows in the library. Twelve circles. Twelve sigils.
Bruce drew six. Thomas drew six. Their hands moved faster each time. Less thinking. More doing.
By day three, every window on the main floor was sealed. Smaller circles than the door, but same effect.
Bruce's shoulders ached. His fingers were stained with chalk and salt.
"Keep going," Thomas said. "Basement is next."
All done.
Every entrance. Every window. Every weak point. Sealed.
" Good work son! "