There is no contact, no explosion. Reaching the alien’s hide, the shells simply disappear into a dense cushion of air with quick, blinding flashes.

Continuing its approach, the serpent glides over the tanks. For a moment, the Abrams tanks vanish within the energy field, only to reappear seconds later, their titanium plates and gun turrets mangled beyond recognition.

Guardian’s words, ringing in his ears: Tezcatilpoca harbors the porthole into the fourth-dimensional corridor.

The porthole into the fourth-dimensional corridor … it’s Tezcatilpoca! Tezcatilpoca IS the porthole!

The plumed serpent rises up the northern balustrade, the demonic eyes luminescent, radiating energy. Swimming within the bloodred corneas, the golden slits of the reptilian pupils widen, as if revealing flames from a hellish furnace.

Mick stares at the creature, his mind gripped in absolute fear. He wants me to enter that?

The serpent pauses at the summit. Ignoring Mick, it opens its mouth, exhaling a vaporous gust of emerald energy from between the retracted fangs.

With a great whoosh, the limestone temple ignites into unearthly vermilion flames, the alien fire melting the stone blocks within seconds.

Mick backs away from the intense heat, taking cover along the top three steps of the northern stairs.

The flames extinguish. From the conflagration, protruding like a flagpole from what little remains of the temple’s central wall—a fifteen-foot-high iridium antenna.

The array!

You are Hunahpu. You have the ability to access the Nephilim array.

The sudden instinct for survival releases a long-dormant thought process. Highly charged impulses course through the nerve endings in Mick’s fingers and into the jade object, causing it to radiate with an intense, almost blinding energy.

The alien stops dead in its tracks, its amber pupils disappearing within its crimson eye slits.

Mick’s heart is pounding like a jackhammer, his arm quivering from the power emanating though his body.

The blinded viper gazes at the stone as if in a trance.

Mick closes his eyes, fighting to maintain his sanity. Okay, just stay calm. Lead it away from the array.

Keeping his arm extended, he descends, one harrowing step at a time, down the western staircase.

As if being led on an invisible leash, the being follows him down.

Dominique races to him—then stops—her eyes widening in shock. “Oh, God. Oh my God—”

Chaney, General Fecondo, and two Army commandos remain motionless behind one of the short walls of the ball court, their minds unable to fathom what their eyes are seeing.

“Dominique!” With his free hand, Mick shakes her out of her stupor. “Dom, you can’t be here!”

“Oh, God—” She grabs his hand, dragging him back. “Come on—”

“No, wait—Dom, do you remember what I told you? Do you remember what symbolized the entrance to the Underworld in the Popol Vuh?”

She turns to face him, then looks up at the monstrous alien. “Oh, no. Oh, God, no—”

“Dom, the plumed serpent is the portal to the Black Road—”

“No—”