Cassian and Helen had turned the motel room in Hawkins into an improvised command center after their incursion into the laboratory. The map of the woods was pinned to the wall, alongside scribbled notes about the portal and printouts from files Helen had hacked. That morning, a package arrived from the Vatican: a sealed box with the papal seal, sent by Lorenzo Ricci. Inside, Cassian found ancient parchments and a note that read: "Study. Your blood is the key." He decided they couldn't wait any longer; he needed to train, understand his lineage from Enoch, and master his blood before facing the rift at the laboratory.
"I'm going to train," Cassian announced, opening the Book of Enoch on the table. "I need to know how to use this before the portal grows further."
Helen, sitting on the bed with her laptop, looked up.
"How?" she asked, closing the computer. "You can't practice with portals in a motel. What's your plan?"
"I don't know yet," he admitted, unrolling one of the parchments. "But His Holiness said my blood can summon or destroy. If I can open a controlled portal, maybe I can learn to close them. These texts might teach me."
"That sounds dangerous," she said, standing up. "You've cut yourself for protections before, but a portal? If it goes wrong, we could have demons here."
"That's why I'll do it step by step," Cassian replied, reviewing the parchment. "The Book of Enoch and these rituals are safe. They don't alert demonic beings like forcing a portal does. I'll spend a month studying, practicing. I won't act until I'm sure."
"A month?" Helen repeated, crossing her arms. "What if the lab does something in the meantime? That portal isn't going to wait."
"You'll have to monitor it," he said, looking at her. "Track the movements from here. If anything changes, let me know. But I can't go in blind again."
"Alright," Helen nodded, reopening her laptop. "You study, I'll keep hacking. But if you start opening weird holes, I'm running."
Cassian gave a faint smile, diving into the texts. In the first few days, he read the Book of Enoch, focusing on passages where Enoch described his ascension and the "gates of heaven" he witnessed. He noted phrases in Latin and Aramaic, translating them with a dictionary Helen downloaded. The parchments were more practical: one detailed how a medieval exorcist used his blood to invoke a divine barrier, another spoke of "opening paths" with blessed blood to glimpse the celestial without risking the infernal.
"These rituals are different," Cassian explained to Helen one morning while she ate a sandwich. "They don't tear the veil like a forced portal. They use blood as a calm bridge, without awakening demons."
"So it's safe," she said, chewing. "But what do you expect to see? Heaven?"
"Maybe," he replied, cutting his palm with the dagger. "If my blood comes from Enoch, it should resonate with something divine."
He began with small experiments: letting drops of blood fall into a circle of salt, reciting a prayer from the parchment—"Domine, aperi viam tuam per sanguum meum." The air trembled, and a faint light glowed over the salt before fading.
"What was that?" Helen asked, setting the sandwich down.
"An echo," he replied, wiping the blood. "I felt something pure, but it's not enough."
"Be careful," she said. "Safe or not, you're playing with big things."
"I know," Cassian responded, returning to the book.
A week passed as he refined the process. He mixed his blood with holy water, tracing symbols from the parchment onto a wooden board bought at a hardware store. When he recited the words, the air warmed, and a ten-centimeter crack of light appeared, trembling before collapsing. He felt a pull in his chest, as if his blood was responding.
"You're making progress," Helen said, watching from the bed. "But that doesn't look like a portal yet."
"It's a start," he replied, jotting down the results. "Blood alone isn't enough. I need more."
"What if you use the crucifix?" she suggested. "It's papal, it has power."
"Good idea," Cassian nodded, taking the crucifix from his neck.
Over the next two weeks, he integrated the crucifix, holding it over the symbols while dripping his blood. After a month in Hawkins, he achieved something greater: a half-meter sphere of light floated above the board, stable for ten seconds before dissipating. The motel trembled slightly, and Helen dropped her coffee.
"Cassian, that was intense!" she exclaimed, cleaning the floor. "What did you feel?"
"Peace," he said, breathing deeply. "As if my blood recognized something. But I need to test it outside."
"Outside?" Helen asked, frowning. "Where?"
"In the woods," Cassian decided. "Mirkwood, where Will disappeared. It's isolated, and there was already a portal there. It might help me."
That night, they drove to Mirkwood. Cassian brought the Book of Enoch, the parchments, his dagger, the crucifix, and a flask of holy water. Helen followed with a flashlight and the radio, parking the car a kilometer from the clearing. In the heart of the forest, Cassian drew a three-meter circle of salt, pouring holy water around the perimeter. He knelt, cutting his palm deeper, letting the blood drip into the center while holding the crucifix.
"Are you sure about this?" Helen asked, standing outside the circle. "Even if it's safe, it's a big step."
"Trust me," he said, closing his eyes. "I've studied for a month for this. Stay back."
"If I see anything weird, I'm leaving," she warned, turning on the flashlight.
Cassian recited the ritual from the parchment, combining it with Enoch's words: "Domine, per sanguum meum, aperi viam tuam. Lux Enoc, ostende mihi." He pressed his bleeding palm to the ground, the crucifix glowing in his other hand. The air vibrated, a hum filling the clearing, and the earth trembled beneath his knees. Helen stepped back, the flashlight shaking in her hand.
Suddenly, a circle of white light rose from the ground, a meter in diameter, floating at chest height. It was calm, its edges soft and defined, emitting a warm glow that illuminated the forest. Cassian felt a tingling in his blood, resonating with the light, and on the other side, he saw an ethereal landscape: golden clouds, an infinite horizon, and blurred figures moving in calm serenity. It was a small fragment of heaven, a divine piece his lineage recognized.
"Cassian, you did it!" Helen shouted, approaching but staying outside the salt circle. "It's a portal!"
"Yes," he gasped, standing up, his hand still bleeding. "Controlled, stable. It's heaven, Helen, a small part of it. That's why my blood responds."
"What do you see?" she asked, pointing the flashlight at the circle.
"Golden clouds, figures," Cassian replied, awestruck. "It's pure peace. No hostility, nothing like the lab."
"It's beautiful," Helen said, lowering the flashlight. "How do you keep it?"
"With my blood," he explained, holding his open palm.
He kept the portal open for a minute, the effort exhausting him, sweat running down his forehead. Finally, he withdrew his hand, and the light faded with a whisper, leaving the clearing in silence. Cassian fell to his knees, breathing heavily, as Helen ran to his side.
"Are you okay?" she asked, helping him up. "That was incredible."
"Yes," he nodded, wiping the blood on his pants. "I can open a calm one. But sealing the lab's portal will be different. This was small, divine. The other is wild, infernal."
"How much more do you need?" Helen asked, handing him a bottle of water.
"More practice," Cassian said, drinking. "But now I know my blood can do it. The month was worth it."
"You're a crazy genius," she said, smiling. "Let's go back to the motel. You need rest."
They drove back, the forest fading behind them, but Cassian knew he had touched something sacred. His blood, the light of Enoch, was a bridge to heaven, and the portal he created was proof that he could control his power—a step toward what awaited him in Hawkins.