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The question is...

who am I?

Right.

I give you a clue, you
have a minute to guess

the identity of the person in question.

We must find a weapon to defeat Moloch.

I fail to understand how a
game played on telephones

will help us solve our
dire problem at hand.

It won't.

That's the point.

This is a technique

profilers use to crack cases

when they're stuck.

If you distract the conscious mind,

the subconscious makes connections

that you wouldn't have seen before.

My mother believed

that Grace Dixon hid some clues

in her journal. We've gone over it

so many times, you
practically memorized it,

and still nada.

So...

you cannot tell a lie.

Who are you?

Oh! Oh!

The little wooden puppet boy.

- Pinocchio?
- Yeah.

Nope. Guess again.

George Washington?

He was our Liar-in-Chief.

He formed the Culper Spy Ring.

That was a network of liars.

Thank you, colonial myth buster.

Ichabod.

Katrina?

Ichabod, can you hear me?

Crane, there. The mirror.

My love.

- Are you in danger?
- I'm safe for now.

But if Henry finds me using
this glass to speak to you, I...

I failed my mission.

Moloch still lives.

- What happened?
- He's grown too strong.

And I fear with the rate he matures,

he-he could reign this Earth
in less than two days time.

There is still another chance.

Another way has presented itself.

There is a weapon capable
of defeating Moloch.

We could use your insights.

What was that?

I must go.

No, no, Katri... Wait! Wai...

We need to find the weapon.

There is still a chance.

Another way has presented itself.

We'll go through it again.

It has to be a code;
these words are very specific.

Chosen words.

Of course.

It seems my wife's
appearance has provided

a more potent distraction
than your parlor game.

You're just mad because you lost.

Grace's notes.

Here. "Heed the chosen
words of the Watchers."

Demons are fallen angels,

another word for which

are "watchers."

So we're searching for

the "chosen words" of fallen angels.

Brilliant.

- Thank you.
- Not you, Grace's code.

Oh, oh. You have your moments as well.

- Too late.
- Right.

"Chosen words" is an anagram.

When rearranged, it spells out...

"Enoch's Sword."

Could it be

a literal sword?

Enoch is an ancient Hebrew text.

I saw a copy of it here somewhere.

I got an alert.

Sheriff Reyes

is coordinating with state police

to catch Irving.

Miss Jenny was to have

delivered him safely
across the Canadian border.

I have no idea how far she got.

I have to warn her.

Abbie says they're setting
up checkpoints all the way

along 87, 81 and the side roads.

We got to get you
across the border fast.

No texting while driving.

Always the cop.

I did all this for my family.

I know I can't see them, but...

They don't know the truth.

You'll see them again.

And we're gonna find a way
to reclaim your soul,

but first, we have to get you to safety.

You really think anywhere is safe anymore?

Yeah.

I have to.

As far as I can tell, Irving and Jenny

are still okay for now.

You find anything here?

In the Book of Enoch,

there is the legend of Methuselah.

He was given a sword

with the power to kill
any being on Earth.

He used it to take down

a thousand demons.

So Mama was right.
The sword can kill Moloch.

If it can be found.

But it all fits.

She wrote it down.

It's got to be here somewhere

in this journal.

Wait a minute,

go back to that drawing.

The reflection.

There is an arts technique
called mirror anamorphosis.

The distortion of an image...

...to disguise it.

A snake.

I know that drawing.

"Join or Die."

It was a famous political cartoon.

America's first, actually.

Supposedly designed
to unite the colonies.

Drawn by Ben Franklin.

It's more than that.

Look at this.

Right there.

The river.

The snake's tongue marks a spot.

Like a treasure map.

So, perhaps Franklin,
knowing the colonists

might need an ultimate
weapon against evil,

published a "Join or Die" cartoon

as a message to all Freemasons.

That the Sword of Methuselah is here...

in the New World.

Let's go get it.

Lieutenant.

- Yes?
- Our quest

will not be without peril.

Crane, you and I can't
have lunch without peril.

No.

Look at this.

"Know thyself completely

or perish when you attempt to see."

This prophecy says we will definitely die,

unless we both know
ourselves completely.

I know this.

That journal was passed down
from my ancestor to my mother.

Now to me.

It is my legacy.

Maybe all the suffering,
everything I've gone through,

leads up to this.

A chance to finally

finish what my family started.

It is why I'm here.

Clarity of purpose is such a rare gift.

Allowing Katrina to contact
Ichabod through the mirror

has paid dividends.

He seeks the Sword of Methuselah.

The Witnesses must not
get their hands on it.

You will follow them,

and if they discover its resting place,

you will retrieve it before they do.

The hour is late.

And morning brings daylight.

Then I suggest you don't waste
another minute of the darkness.

Ride!

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Abraham!

You leaving so soon?

You've only just arrived.

Do not try to distract me
from the task at hand.

No, it's just that

there are so many things
I want to talk to you about.

I should think you might have
had your fill of talk tonight.

You were once my greatest treasure,

and Crane stole you from me.

But now he seeks a new treasure,

and this time, I will take it first.

And when I return, you and I

will celebrate Moloch's rise.

Ichabod, be strong.

Oh, no. Checkpoint.

This isn't one of the
roads Abbie mentioned.

They're widening the net fast.
Get in the back,

- under the tarp.
- No, let me out of the car.

Just do it; I've talked
my way past plenty

of cops at plenty of
checkpoints in my life.

Not with a fugitive
in the back, Jenny.

You will go to jail.

I can't have any more
people get hurt. It's enough.

Take this burner phone.

Cross through the trees.

I'll meet you at the bridge on Route 21.

Then I'm taking you to Canada.

Deal.

Be careful. I can't
slow down all the way.

We're all out of snake's tongue.

Sword's got to be here somewhere.

Lieutenant?

What is it?

I've been here.

As a child?

In my dream.

♪ You are my sunshine ♪

♪ My only sunshine ♪

♪ You make me happy... ♪

Mama?

The one of Mama in Purgatory.

This is where we were.

She's been trying to
lead me here all along.

Lieutenant!

How did he find us?

Followed us here, no doubt.

I don't think it's us he wants.

He's after the sword.

Don't!

Patience, Lieutenant.

Daybreak will solve our problem for us.

Not if he takes the sword first.

Wait!

Abraham van Brunt!

Good morning, sunshine.

You telling me you knew
exactly when the sun would rise?

Did you read the stars or something?

You installed a weather
application for me.

It also foretells a 15%
chance of precipitation.

Okay.

So... the Horseman's joined the party.

We got a day's head start

to find that sword.

Yet it troubles me, Lieutenant.

For Abraham to become

an obstacle now, at this critical point...

"Know thyself," indeed.

What do you mean?

That my journey for the sword

must inevitably pass through Abraham.

As has my life's journey to this point.

Whoever I may be now,

I owe my very identity to him.

America, Ichabod. Think on it.

A new world, there...

for the taking.

You mock me, Abraham.

You know I cannot simply

resign my professorship to follow you

- to the colonies.
- I thought university

was your father's path, not yours.

I'll choose my own path, thank you.

Perhaps.

I know old Thomas would never support

such a move, but join the army.

Let the Crown pay your way.
I beg you, my friend.

Whatever it takes, act.
For once in your life,

become your own man!

Whatever man I may be,

Abraham, I'm still your better.

Toy swords, pretend fighting.

But come test yourself in
the real world, and decide...

were you meant to teach
history or to make it?

And now the swords are very real indeed.

Don't you see, Lieutenant?

Abraham made me

who I am.

Our journeys are entwined,
our fates ever so.

And now he, too, is on
the quest for the sword.

You're saying the prophecy's real.

Self-fulfilling.

We shall meet in battle again.

Only this time, he's
the Horseman of Death.

And I must know myself completely...

or perish.

So, the Headless Horseman
inspired you to come to America.

You couldn't have had any other friends

begging you to come over here?

Maybe someone without an axe?

The Knights Templar foretold a quest,

not only for the sword,
but into one's self.

And now...

I am challenged by the very
man who shaped my destiny.

That's going a little far, isn't it?

Abraham may have given you
the idea to come to America,

but you put it in action.

Well, I wish that were the case.

But Abraham's influence

has been both crucial and definitive

at every turn.

My friend, you have made a bold choice.

And, in doing so, I have
deserted my nation.

The country that stifled you,

held you back,

repressed the spirit of a free nation.

Breathe in

the new world's fresh air.

It is all possibility.

You need only reach out and grab it.

And soon,

you'll be like me, with
a place of distinction

and a bed fully furnished
with a buxom woman.

And, more importantly,

a friend...

...willing to pick up the tab.

You...

What'll it be, friend?

One beer and one generous rum.

Straightaway, sir.

Miss Van Tassel.

If it isn't Mr. Ichabod Crane.

Officially shed of your red coat?

Uh, yes.

I believe the new one will
suit you so much better.

Oh, Katrina!

My darling!

Hello, Bram.

The blush in your cheeks

tells me you've been
enjoying your evening.

Well, how could I not,

after reuniting with
my dearest of friends?

Uh, you two have met?

Briefly, in Boston.

Well, what serendipity!

You must join us at my
estate this weekend.

I have a feeling you two
will be thick as thieves.

Abraham cajoled me
into coming to America,

Katrina influenced my
turn, put me to sleep,

sent me on my mission
to become a Witness.

How do I know myself

when at every turn my life
has been determined by others?

I've struggled with that
for a long time, Crane.

Now I have the journal and a destiny.

I've got to believe

that there's a reason why I'm worthy

of this path that life
has set out for us.

So do you.

Of course.

We did not come this far to retreat now.

- But...
- Mm.

Abraham took the clue we
needed to find the sword.

I got a look at it. Um...

it was a... a plaque,

with a circle.

Like this.

Ouroboros.

A snake eating its tail.

It embodies the motto
of the Knights Templar.

"As above, so below."

The connection between heaven and Earth.

As above, so below.

That's right.

Microcosm to macrocosm.

Heaven and Earth.

Or, if we're being literal...

as above...

Below.

Ouroboros.

Nice work, Mama.

You, show me your hands, right now!

What the hell?

An Englishman?

Who put a bunch of stone
statues down here?

What's wrong?

The resemblance is uncanny.

"Dixon."

That's Grace's last name.

The clothing is, uh, early 19th century.

This must've been one of her daughters

or granddaughters or something.

Why a statue?

I fear this is no statue,

but a real person

turned to stone.

As they all are.

Crane, what is that?

We need to leave.

Now. Quickly.

Don't look back. Do not look back!

Go! Go! Don't look!

Oh, God...

What the hell was
that thing down there?!

A monster that I thought

existed only in the pages
of Greek mythology.

A Gorgon.

Cursed with the power
to turn us to stone

if we dare but meet its gaze.

That's the next line in the prophecy.

"Know thyself completely

or you will perish when
you attempt to see."

Those explorers from all
times and cultures...

they were looking for this weapon.

Spanish, Dutch, Portuguese.

My God.

The very founding of the New World

could've been but a by-product
in the search for the sword.

That's what you took away
from what we just saw?

Lieutenant, I understand
that seeing your ancestor

in that cavern would not have be easy...

My God, she was frozen in stone!

Dead before she could
complete her mission.

Like so many of the women in my family,

cut down in their prime...

Grace burned alive,
Mama driven to suicide.

Is it my destiny to die here, too?

No. No.

Banish that thought, Lieutenant.

You are here to finish
what they started.

You said it yourself.

That is your destiny.

Moloch is on Earth.

Katrina is in captivity.

And, yeah, we are so close to having

what we need to end this thing.

But it's guarded by a creature
that we can't even lay eyes on.

We must remain steadfast.

Mm.

Face our fears as we always do.

"Face our fears."

Maybe we don't have to.

Maybe someone else can face them for us.

I don't follow.

Locking eyes with the Gorgon
turns a person to stone.

We can't even get near
enough to kill it.

Maybe...

someone with no eyes can.

Oh.

Sorry, Jenny.

Thank you for trying,
but I can't run and hide.

Not who I am.

I'm gonna fight, stay underground.

When I see you again, I
hope it's in a better world.

It's the shofar.

The trumpet that made

the Israelites tremble at Mount Sinai.

That brought down the walls of Jericho.

That has signaled the starting of wars

for aeons.

And now is to sound the moment

that Moloch has grown to his full glory,

to call his servants to his side.

It's nice to see that you've
taken up an instrument.

Perhaps after dinner tonight,
we can have a recital.

Yes.

Yes, we will.

And what would you like
for tonight's meal?

It's customary for the
condemned to have a choice.

Well, if you're worried
about the food, don't be.

I would never poison

my own flesh and blood.

They grow up so quickly.

I hesitated.

I was a fool.

As always, your compassion
is your weakness.

And now, ironically,
despite all your efforts,

it is also your husband's.

And what have you done to Ichabod?

It's you that did it.

The moment I allowed you

to contact him through my mirror.

You see yourself as strong.

A witch, a spy, a wife.

But your humanity always emerges

time and time again to define you.

You're only here because
of my most human quality.

Love.

It is, after all,

what led me to save your life
when the coven wanted you dead.

You wouldn't have needed to save me

if you had the strength
to let your husband die.

You could've prevented all this.

You could've been a mother to the child

you gave birth to in this very house.

A human child.

You cannot deny that
humanity within you.

I can and I do with my every breath.

Breath that will soon
blow this horn three times

to announce the start of the End Times.

But first...

let me lift this enchantment,

so you can see what your
compassion has yielded.

Just me.

I made torches.

Fashioned my socks into batting,

and soaked them in pitch
I dug from a new pine bough.

I brought flares.

Just light them.

Well...

one can never have enough torches.

I cannot believe we're actually hoping

the Horseman of Death shows up.

Your plan is a sound one.

Doesn't make it any less nuts.

Lure the Headless
Horseman to follow us down

into a secret cavern ruled by a Gorgon,

where His Headlessness
has the fight advantage.

Meanwhile, we find a magic sword to kill

the Horseman when he comes after us,

which then we use to stop Moloch's rise.

Did I miss anything?

Did you say don't look at the Gorgon?

I was hoping that was implied.

If she were here now, your
mother would be very proud.

Lieutenant!

Quickly! He comes!

Don't tell me you're trying to
take a selfie with the Gorgon.

Go now. Go.

See? Torches.

You're welcome.

Now...

we must determine
which is the true sword.

Right.

'Cause getting here just
wasn't hard enough.

It is one these swords right?

'Cause if it's not and I die in here,

I'll be kicking some serious
Templar ass in the afterlife.

You find the sword.

I shall hold off the victor in battle.

No, Crane. Not by yourself.
You'll be killed.

Even both of us together against them

does not appreciably narrow our odds.

Not without the sword.

I'll buy you as much time as I can.

But you must find it, posthaste.

And bear in mind, it might be a test.

You may only get one chance.

Awesome. Thanks for that.

Ichabod!

Abraham.

I can see you.

So the prophecy of the
sword is as Henry said.

Everyone within these chambers
must wear their truest face.

"Know thyself,

completely."

You've forgotten the
part about perishing!

When I look at you, I see
the face of my betrayer.

The face of a man I have
long dreamed of cutting down.

Without honor?!

Huh, Abraham?

You bested me when we
dueled over Katrina

in the forest many years ago.

Our bloody combat on the battlefield...

we'll call that a draw.

And now will you not grant me
the honor of a deciding match?

It would seem, my old friend,

that our story is ever
to be told by swordplay.

And this will be our final chapter.

Then I will use your
blood to write, "Finis."

I want redemption for you, Abraham,

yet all I see is the ghost

of a man I once knew.

Well, Ichabod, that
is because I am dead!

Your path was on course already,

towards this creature of
darkness you've become.

I am what you made me!

I am the one who traveled to the
New World to forge a new path.

You forced your way onto it.

I found a wife.

You stole her from me!

As if it were your destiny
and not something you wrested

from a man you dared to call friend!

Abraham, that is not what...

No!

I was supposed to be
the hero of this story!

Not the villain!

Do not dare put this on me.

You chose the mantle of Death!

You chose Moloch!

Two choices made

in an instant that ensured
Katrina would never love you.

Have you ever noticed
that through it all,

she always returns to me?

You have. I can see it.

Well, now she will be my bride.

And you will have nothing!

Come on, Methuselah.

Which one are you?

Lieutenant! The sword!

I'm trying!

There's no sword.

How efficient.

Two in one shot.

Crane, I can see his head.

The cave is enchanted.

Now, where is the sword?

It does not exist.

Liar!

It's true.

Look around... no sword.

All these years,

all these great adventurers,

now us... come for nothing.

Nothing?

No, old friend, you have come to die.

The shofar has sounded.

Moloch calls me to his side.

Then go.

Run to serve your master.

But no matter what the outcome of today,

you will always know the truth.

That your jealousy made you thus.

Not I.

A moment.

A twitch.

We are the choices we make
in the moment, as you said.

And I choose to watch
you suffer in hell,

looking on for an eternity as
I ride with your former wife.

I choose who I am.

I am the Horseman of Death!

You have no sword.

You are nothing.

The trumpet.

From the Book of Revelation.

We're too late.

I fear the prophecy was correct.

I cannot see the sword
because I do not know myself.

No, you do.

You just had a shotgun to your
chest and were willing to die.

Turn it around, and decide to live.

Lieutenant, yes.

"Decide."

Deciding to live...

that is the prophecy.

Life is but a series of choices.

You chose to be a patriot and a hero.

Someone who does not give up,

or the world around him ends.

Thank you, Lieutenant.

It is through your eyes that
I see myself most clearly.

Okay.

Let's find this damn sword.

It's in here somewhere.

Yes.

"Know thyself, completely..."

"Or perish when you attempt to see."

Water.

In which you see a reflection
of your true self.

This isn't water.

This is oil.

God's wounds.

Wait.

All those statues out there,

the ones that came here and failed,

what do we have that they didn't?

Each other.

Oh, uh, after you.

No, please.

We shall not witness the
apocalypse on this night.

Moloch shall not rise.

The time has come.

It begins.

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