“They are not gods!” Happy said immediately. “Don’t use that word. Never use that word. Just because they’re so much more than us, it doesn’t mean they’re gods.”

“What difference does it make?” said Kim, puzzled.

“Because you can’t fight gods,” said Happy.

“We can fight things that think they’re gods,” JC said cheerfully. “Remember that being we encountered in the supermarket car park? Worshipped by generations of early Humanity; and we still kicked its arse and sent it home crying. Melody, could our Intruder be anything like that?”

“No. That was a much more basic, even elemental, force. Not coherent enough even to have a name or identity. We’re faced with something far more sophisticated. A single entity, or presence, that can change our world simply by existing in it.” She looked at Happy. “Spell the word god with a lower case, and it’s a good enough term for what’s down here in the darkness with us.”

Everyone looked at each other. No-one wanted to be the first to say anything.

“We are not equipped to deal with a Great Beast,” Happy said finally. “Let’s be real here, people. Outer Forces like that are so far out of our league we couldn’t even see the league from where we are. We’re ghost finders, not god killers.”

“What we need are better weapons,” said Natasha.

“Bigger weapons. First rule of the Crowley Project: there’s nothing in supernature that can’t be taken down with a big enough stick. Maybe if we combined our resources . . .”

“You’re seriously contemplating throwing down with a god?” said Melody.

“We’ve been known to kill gods, at the Project,” said Erik airily. “Sometimes we eat them, too.”

“You couldn’t even stand up to me,” said Kim. “And I’m only dead.”

“Confidence is fun,” said JC. “Sanity is better. We need a plan.”

“We need weapons!” said Natasha.

“You can’t fight the Great Beasts!” said Happy. “They’re as much conceptual as anything, a horrible Idea from a higher plane, downloaded into physical form in our dimension. You can’t kill an Idea. The best we can hope for is to pry it loose from our plane and send it home with a flea in its ear.” He frowned, considering. “And we might be able to do that. So far, all the signs suggest our Intruder is following the standard pattern of any haunting, building everything from and around a single focal point.”

“You’re talking about me,” said Kim.

“We don’t know that for sure,” said JC.

Happy ignored him, looking at Melody. “How far away from us is the Intruder, and please say lots.”