Original subtitles

(indistinct conversations)

(organ music plays)

MAN:

Do you want the pain to stop?

Do you want to purge the guilt

weighing you down in that chair?

Brother, all of

your burdens

will be lifted

by the power

of the EverLiving Rock.

(crowd clamoring)

Yes, yes.

My God.

I can feel my legs.

PREACHER:

Now remember,

only those who give,

and give generously,

shall receive.

(crowd grows louder)

Hallelujah!

Hurry up.

I got a date.

Now, that's a miracle.

Pouring it on a little thick

with the hug, don't you think?

Worked, didn't it?

Next show is at 9:00.

Don't be late again.

JOBE:

You don't even realize

what you have, do you?

Whoa, whoa.

You... you shouldn't be

in here.

We're closed.

Mortals-- so focused

on their petty desires.

Never seeing...

the bigger picture.

Back off there, bud.

Never recognizing

when they're in

the presence...

of true power.

Can I get an amen?

Power can be lost,

go missing for centuries,

then turn up

in the unlikeliest

of places.

But in the end...

power can never remain hidden.

Not to those deserving enough

to wield it.

(bones crack)

(distorted):

You are not deserving!

Malcolm, I've secured

the third Talisman.

I'll see you in the morning.

(grunts)

"Don't fight the pain.

"Surrender

to it."

(snarls)

You told me

that once.

Remember?

(inhales, grunts)

(thunder crashing)

♪ ♪

(chanting in Latin)

I learned so much from you

and your friends in Hell.

Time to put

those lessons to use.

The third-century Celts

were the most fearsome

and bloodthirsty warriors

in all Britannia.

Savage to their

barbarian hearts,

they laid waste

to all who challenged them,

including one Danish prince

foolish enough

to cross Hadrian's Wall.

He was defeated, of course...

and decapitated.

The Celtic chieftains

allowed their men

to lustily kick his head around

for enjoyment.

And from these gruesome origins

grew the sporting endeavor

you modern-day warriors

refer to...

as soccer.

Cool!

Thank you.

What did they do

with the head after?

Did they empty his brains

before they played?

And what about

the eyes?

Did they pop out

when they kicked it?

Most likely.

DIANA:

Okay, that is enough

of a... pep talk

from our friend.

Say, "Thank you,

Mr. Crane."

Thank you, Mr. Crane.

To a swift victory,

Team Bumblebee.

(indistinct chatter)

Well, that was a spirited,

rousing match.

(laughs): Not as spirited

as your cheering.

What was that

we were shouting?

"Creep, creep"?

Qweep, qweep, qweep!

That's the sound of a

white-breasted nuthatch

at the rite of spring

in the Colonies.

Mm.

Common expression of

adulation in my day.

Guess that one

didn't stick.

And we are all

the poorer for it.

MOLLY:

Hi, Mr. Crane.

Oh.

Miss Molly is quite

the competitor.

Far and away the most

gifted of her teammates.

Yeah, she's always

been athletic.

She was the most coordinated

baby in day care.

Is that because she's a Witness?

Oh, no, no.

It does not quite work

like that.

Being a Witness does not grant

one special powers or skills.

A Witness is no different

from any other person.

Except that they're

a monster magnet.

Well, d... not exactly.

In the war between

good and evil,

the Witnesses will always be

drawn to the site of conflict

in order to...

witness it.

What we do at that conflict

is entirely up to us.

The lieutenant and I chose to

battle the forces of darkness.

Miss Molly...

may choose

an entirely different path.

But in order to do that,

she must first know who she is.

I know.

I just haven't figured out

how to tell her yet.

I never had a chance

to be father to my son.

Just to sit with him and have...

an honest moment.

I was reminded of this

during my recent ordeal.

And it filled me with regret

once again.

Malcolm Dreyfuss.

Enrolled at Stanford

at the age of 15.

Dropped out to launch a start-up

in his parents' garage.

Made his first billion

at the age of 30.

Certified genius.

Every supernatural encounter

we've had

leads back to Dreyfuss.

The Lincoln Memorial.

Dreyfuss Enterprises

had a contract

to restore the statue

before Lincoln's head

went missing.

The Dyer House.

Dreyfuss had applied for permits

to drain the swamplands

around it.

Plus he had the Banneker folio,

which led us to J Street,

where the Despair creature

was trapped.

So he's doing all this

to collect mystical artifacts?

To do what?

That is what we must determine.

Master Wells,

you say you saw his man

procuring an item

from the Smithsonian.

Oh, "procuring" is the

nicest way of saying

he incinerated

a security guard

while demonically

trashing a storage room.

That guard is officially

a missing person.

It gives us grounds

to question Dreyfuss.

Very good.

I should like an opportunity

to get a better measure

of the man.

Whilst Agent Thomas and I

have a chat with Mr. Dreyfuss,

perhaps you could divine

what it was

he sought

from the Smithsonian.

You are, after all,

our artifacts expert.

I wouldn't say

I'm an expert, but...

He was talking to me.

Yeah, I knew that.

WOMAN:

Mr. Dreyfuss is

just wrapping up

a presentation

for our Young

Entrepreneurs Program.

It's so inspiring how

much he gives back.

DREYFUSS: It's-- ah, n... w...

Ansel, Ansel, I'm telling you,

th-the pull-down on page two,

it just... it keeps crashing,

it keeps... (sighs)

Will you please put the...

c-camera down for one second

and help me out, help me out.

Right here. Help. Help.

Run the program in I-D-E

My friend, I'm looking

with a debugger active.

right at where

the c... code stops

and the bug isn't there--

do you see a bug?

We got to tear all this down.

ANSEL: Relax. This is just like

when we used to hack

arcade game ROMs.

Did you try G-D-B?

(tapping keyboard)

See there?

You...

Is that...

You got it, man.

(Ansel laughing)

DREYFUSS: We... we got it!

DREYFUSS:

Thank you.

That right there, that...

was the precise moment

that my company was born.

And in that moment

I had all the skills

and all the knowledge I needed

for success, but the thing is...

I needed Ansel... to show me

how to harness it all.

See, ever since we were kids...

(laughs softly)

he was the one

with all the confidence.

It was Ansel's idea to film

all that in the first place.

Even back then, he was convinced

we were... making history.

And Ansel...

Ansel continues to teach me

every day.

He reminds me

that our time here

can always be cut

tragically short.

Not one of us knows

when this ride is gonna end.

Right?

So... I'm here

to ask each

and every one of you... this.

What are you gonna do

on your ride?

Thank you for coming.

FEMALE VOICE (over P.A.):

Welcome to

Dreyfuss Enterprises.

Please pull all the way in.

Uh, sorry,

I don't have you

on my log today.

Excuse me, sir.

Hey.

Do we have a problem?

Dispatch,

this is the loading...

(speaking Latin)

♪ ♪

(whispers):

Dude, help me out.

That could refer to

so many aspects of your life.

Help you out with what?

Dude, hamsters

learn faster than you.

She's not into you.

Well, that's because...

she doesn't know me.

But if someone

were to pave the way...

If someone

would let her know

how chill I am...

Good luck finding that someone.

Lunch for the rest of the month.

And your parking space.

Deal. Deal.

Hmm.

I found the museum inventory

that you wanted,

but there's no way

of telling which piece

that Dreyfuss took.

Not from the inventory alone,

but if you match it up

with the bills of lading

from the last month,

you can figure out

what was delivered...

And then figure out

what's no longer there. Wow.

That's sharp.

You'd have to hack into

the database of every carrier

that delivers

to the Smithsonian.

Three down, five to go.

We could divide and conquer.

Cool.

Cool.

I've been using

DoS attacks.

I'm more of an SQL

injection girl myself.

What's with him?

Oh. I'm supposed to be

talking him up to you.

I know.

I've already told

him, but I'm getting

a month's worth of

lunches out of this.

Really?

Mm-hmm.

Do you want me

to cut you in?

No.

Just flash him a smile.

(giggles softly)

DIANA: A security guard

from the Smithsonian

disappeared from his shift

three nights ago.

DREYFUSS: Hmm.

An eyewitness put this man

at the scene.

Yes, that would be

Jobe, my bodyguard.

Jobe-- is that his last name?

You know, I never

asked him that. Hmm.

May we speak with him?

Well, at the moment,

he happens to be on

a special assignment,

and I'm afraid he insists

on keeping his own schedule,

but all things considered,

I have to say

Jobe is well

worth his quirks.

Yes, I imagine

your own personal demon

can come in quite handy.

DREYFUSS:

Mr. Crane...

I hope it's okay

if I call you Ichabod.

(chuckles):

Ah, that name...

just tickles me

to no end.

Please.

Now, if I were to say

I have any idea

(chuckles):

wha...

what in the world

you're talking about,

why would I discuss

any of this with you?

Because there is no victory

for you without a gallery.

Which is why you told us you'd

sold your soul to the devil.

Ah.

That's right.

A jest.

Bit of mischief.

CRANE: And now you're

collecting powerful artifacts

to perpetrate more evil--

no doubt to your great benefit.

Oh, yes, now, that, that...

that does sound like me, yes.

Leveraging assets. Definitely.

Innocent lives be damned.

No.

No. No, no, not-not innocent.

Not at all.

Unless you think you...

have lived an innocent life...

Ichabod.

Sorry, Mr. Dreyfuss,

but we have a situation.

If you'll excuse me.

DREYFUSS: What?

What, what, what?

We've had a breach.

He disabled the security

protocols and gained entrance.

He disabled the secur...

my security... protocol?

Locked out.

How is that possible?

What are you doing?

Calling the server room.

(line ringing)

(ringing)

(typing)

(alarm blaring)

What's going on?

(alarm continues blaring)

MAN (over P.A.):

Security breach.

Secure all data

and restricted areas.

Security breach.

Secure all data

and restricted areas.

Someone put the building

in lockdown.

DIANA:

Oh, my God.

What happened in there?

Ansel.

♪ ♪

Ansel, your

former partner?

Your dead partner?

You need to tell us

what's going on, right now.

If he wanted

to kill you,

he would not have

announced his presence.

He's taunting you.

Daring you to

come after him

because he has

what you want.

This is nuts.

What is the artifact?

What are you collecting?

I... really don't

have time for this.

What does Ansel want?

I don't know what he...

(phone rings)

I don't know what he wan...

Yes?

We're ready, sir.

Okay, good. Listen-listen to me.

No matter what

you have to do,

make sure he

doesn't get out.

Yes, sir.

Go!

Judging by the appearance

of the victims,

Ansel is clearly wielding

dark magic.

Your men do not stand a chance

against him.

Hazards of the job.

But no one...

forced these gentlemen

to sign up

to be security guards.

Listen,

you're...

you're free to wait it out here.

You know, it's the safest place

in the building. Please.

No.

We will not stand idly by

whilst innocent men suffer

for your sins.

(trembling breaths)

Wait, what do you mean

you're trapped?

DIANA: The building's

been sealed off, which means

everyone in here is at the mercy

of a violent

and deranged warlock.

(groans) The Dreyfuss building's

network is like a tank.

There's no way to break through.

I got it.

What, you cracked

their security?

Okay, well,

not exactly.

Their admin encryption

is military-grade,

but I was able to get us access

into the lower-level systems,

which is mostly

maintenance stuff,

but it's a foot in the door.

Mm-hmm.

We're working on getting you

out of there.

Just stay safe until we do.

That might not be up to us.

We're too late.

(gasps)

Agent Thomas.

He's in the infrastructure.

ALEX: Here's what I hacked from

their security cam memory banks.

(Ansel chanting in Latin)

Hold on. Go back.

So, when he

chants a spell,

it activates those

markings on his skin.

And those just aren't

any markings.

Those are sigils.

Sigils?

Yeah, demonic symbols--

each sigil will cast

a different kind

of killing spell.

JENNY:

Sigils are

usually recorded

in occult texts, they're

not branded onto people's skin.

Yeah, because once you access

a sigil, it burns itself out.

I can't imagine what happens

if it's on your body.

I'm gonna

look into

how to combat sigil magic, okay?

Crane, those men

back there...

Yes. 'Twas a grim sight.

I can't expose

Molly to this.

If Homeland Security

can't handle it,

how is my ten-year-old

daughter supposed to?

(sniffing)

No.

Greek fire.

It ignites a flame so voracious

it can never be extinguished.

Crane?

He's going to destroy

the entire building.

(line ringing)

ANSEL:

Hello, Malcolm.

Ansel?

Is it really you?

Oh, thank God.

It's a miracle, my friend...

Shut up.

You've gotten overconfident.

Your security algorithms

are for crap.

You used to be better than that.

I am... uh,

far better than that now.

And I think we both know

I have always

been better than you.

Yes.

You were the better

coder and engineer.

But you couldn't

leave it at that.

You still had to find

a way to get rid of me.

Because it was always,

always about you, Ansel.

No one ever took me seriously

when you were around.

It just didn't seem to matter

to anyone

that I was... I was the brains,

but you know

I was the brains

behind...

everything.

All they wanted was to...

talk to the face.

And now...

look at my face.

You should have just

had me killed.

Death would have been a relief.

Instead, you banished me

to a circle of Hell

where every day a new demon

burned their name into my flesh.

(shudders)

Took pleasure

at my agony.

But I escaped.

Made it back to this world.

Studied what each

of these scars meant

and how to use them.

So my pain...

(whispers):

is now my power.

(gasps)

(grunts)

(choking)

(sizzling)

(choking):

What do you want?

I want my life back.

You have the other pieces.

I want them.

DIANA:

Drop him!

You both should want him dead.

What happens after you kill him?

You bring down the entire

building with everybody in it?

Hmm?

We found the Greek fire.

What good is killing him

if I allow what he's built

to survive?

(grunts)

(chanting in Latin)

Agent Thomas!

(gasps weakly)

(coughs)

(groans)

(grunts)

(elevator bell dings)

(grunts)

Go! Go! Go!

Is there another way out?

No. The only way out

is back up where Ansel is.

I've locked out the controls.

That'll not hold him for long.

He's come this far;

he won't stop now.

Here.

All right.

All right, all right.

I can't reach Diana or Crane.

That's not good.

Hopefully, it just means

they're somewhere

without a signal.

I got it. Got it,

got it, got it. Okay.

So, sigils are symbols

that are activated

by saying a spell, right?

Now, what if you could sever

the symbol from the spell?

That, of course,

led me to John Dee,

who specialized in

Hermetic languages.

And I don't even

have to tell you,

Jake?

deciphering all of that Enoch...

Yes.

Focus.

Got it. Okay,

now, this is

a Nam-Shub,

an incantation that can

disrupt the connection

between language

and symbols.

This goes all the way back

to the Tower of Babel.

It's like a

shutdown command.

So if someone recites

this while the warlock

is activating a sigil...

It should deactivate it.

Okay, we just need to find a way

to get this phrase to Crane.

But how? We can't reach him,

and the building's locked down.

Okay, well,

we have access

to all of the maintenance

systems, right,

including ventilation.

Right.

I thought of that,

but the building switches

to a self-contained air supply.

All the outside vents

are closed.

Well, what if tell the system

that the air supply

has been used up?

Then it would have to switch

into backup mode

and vent air from the outside.

Wait-wait, you're going in

through the air duct?

Yup.

I should go with you.

Why?

You know, in case

you need backup.

Actually, I could

really use your help

monitoring the situation

from here,

you know, in case we need

any more info on the sigils.

You're the expert, right?

Right.

(quietly):

Thank you.

What happened?

Your pulse is strong, but you

may have internal injuries.

(groaning)

Listen...

if I don't make it...

tell Molly...

if she keeps hanging out

with that snotty girl Erica,

she'll end up

with a lower-back tattoo

and a life full of regret.

That sounds

rather like a conversation

for mother and daughter.

(laughs)

(groans)

There's so much

I should tell her.

I just don't know how.

What kind of mother

does that make me?

Agent Thomas, you are

an excellent detective

and an intrepid soldier,

but most of all...

you are a superior parent.

I have no doubt when

the time comes to tell Molly,

you will find the words.

Your misgivings

are quite unfounded,

for you are governed by one law:

truth.

And with you by her side,

Molly shall never know fear...

nor apprehension.

Quite the pep talk.

Ever thought

of coaching youth soccer?

Oof. One deadly situation

at a time, please.

I think some

of these

might help us hold him off.

Or we could give him these.

These are what he seeks,

after all, are they not?

No, no, no, we...

we can't let him have these.

Why?

What are they,

and why does he want them?

Okay, first of all,

you got to understand

what it was like

when we were first starting out,

when we were just... just

beginning to launch our company.

Right away, Ansel, he...

(chuckles) he became

the face of the company.

And I became his shadow.

♪ ♪

And he never sought out

the attention, but...

that just made things worse.

It was all my work.

It was all my work--

all my ideas, everything--

but no one ever saw that.

All they saw was Ansel.

I decided

I would make them see.

I took possession

of everything.

All my work-- every program,

every circuit, everything.

Of course,

I knew the investors,

they'd file suit

to get everything back,

but at that moment...

it didn't matter.

Because something

was telling me to do this.

Something or someone.

JOBE (echoing):

What do you want?

(horn honking)

♪ ♪

(coughing)

(grunts)

(gasps):

No...

(crying):

No, no, no, no, no,

no, that's my life.

Please.

(sobbing):

That's my life. Please.

Give me my life back.

I've often wondered

wh-what it was

about that particular moment.

Were those woods in some sort

of mystically charged area

or something?

That night I made a request.

And I got an answer.

(gasps, pants)

No. It wasn't a dream.

Who are you?

A messenger.

This is a c... c-contract?

For what?

For the life

you were meant to have.

"As...

payment, signee agrees to..."

(chuckles)

"surrender his soul

upon... death"?

A-And if I... I don't agree?

(gasping breaths)

No, no, no.

(echoing):

No, no, no.

(takes deep breath)

What about Ansel?

You won't have to worry

about him anymore.

I'll see that

he's taken care of.

(sighs)

I never asked for anything bad

to happen to Ansel.

You had no need.

You knew that

your unholy alliance

would lead

to his grisly demise.

Yeah.

And I have a feeling

I'm gonna pay for it.

In ways we can't begin

to imagine.

You were trying to renege

on your deal.

You received

everything you desired,

and now you realize

you don't want

to sacrifice your soul,

so you're trying

to cheat your way out of it,

aren't you?

How?

(thump)

♪ ♪

(exhales)

Finally.

Where is the last piece?

I don't have it.

I swear to you

I don't have it.

The Stone's

transformative powers

can only be activated if

it is whole-- only then

can my life be restored.

So I must have the last piece.

CRANE:

What is this Stone?

How can it do as you say?

He hasn't told you?

This is the Philosopher's Stone,

the most powerful magical item

ever known to man.

It can transmute all the pain

I have suffered

and give me back my life.

And this time...

it will be life eternal.

(whispers):

The Philosopher's Stone.

You were going

to cheat out of your deal

by cheating death itself.

If I never die,

I never have to lose my soul.

More tricks

and games.

That comes to an end now.

(trembling breaths)

(chanting in Latin)

(gasps)

Tell me where the last piece is.

(Dreyfuss yelling)

(grunts)

(chanting in Latin)

JENNY:

Graupha keph

pai!

Machis

nach med tal!

(yelling)

(panting)

I'm all right, all right.

Crane!

The Greek fire.

There are other paths

to eternity.

(groans)

Nice throw.

Nice catch.

Where is Dreyfuss?

He's gone.

And he's taken

the Philosopher's Stone.

How are the

quesadillas coming?

Not bad.

Oh. Here. You always burn

the tortillas anyway.

I like them crunchy.

(chuckles)

Yours.

(groaning)

How bad did you hurt yourself?

Oh, the doctor said

workout injuries like this,

um, they're not so bad.

Be better in a few days.

Baby, I got to talk to you

about something.

You know Mr. Crane?

Yeah. He's awesome.

Yeah, he is awesome.

He's also special.

What do you mean?

You remember how I told you

when I was in the Marines

sometimes I'd get chosen

for special missions?

Yeah.

Mr. Crane

has been chosen for one.

And it's bigger

than the Marines.

It has to do with...

everything.

He's been specially

selected.

And we think you have been, too.

Me?

Selected by who?

We don't really know.

Well, what's the mission?

It's about making the world

a better place.

You and Mr. Crane are

what's known as Witnesses.

Witnesses.

What does that mean?

It means a lot

of people

are gonna be counting on you.

And you're gonna do

great things.

When you called me and asked me

to talk to Mr. Crane,

to tell him that he was

important and to have hope,

was that part of the mission?

Yeah, it was.

So, how'd I do?

You did really well.

You helped him

when he really needed it.

Good, 'cause...

I like Mr. Crane.

And I want to help people,

like you do.

That's how

you got hurt.

You didn't get hurt working out.

You got hurt

stopping bad people

from doing bad things.

Mom, you can always

tell me the truth.

Okay.

You have a deal.

That's a relief, 'cause...

there's something

I got to tell you.

Burnt quesadillas suck.

Yeah.

All right.

Grab us some drinks.

Okay.

♪ ♪

Witnesses.

So... there's no

sign of Dreyfuss.

Nope.

No reports of him

anywhere.

But I guess if you're

a billionaire

and you want to stay hidden,

you stay hidden.

Yeah, well, at least he

doesn't have the last piece

of the Philosopher's Stone.

Yeah, but for how long?

By the way,

I finished cross-checking

the Smithsonian inventory.

Found out what Dreyfuss took

from there.

"Diagrammatical plottings

of Geoglyphs,

Alfred Watkins, 1925."

Alfred Watkins...

The British

archaeologist.

You know, pioneered

the mapping of...

Ley lines.

Alignments of mystical energy

that circle the earth.

What would Dreyfuss want

with a map of ley lines?

This is a scan I made

of the Blavatsky map.

It shows all of the major

ley lines in North America.

JENNY:

Does this look anything like

what Dreyfuss' demon took

from the storage room?

No. The one he had didn't have

any geographical features.

Okay.

(beep)

Yeah, it was more like that.

What are these?

Convergence points.

Spots where

the mystical energies peak.

Wait.

Pull up a, uh, current GPS map

of the D.C. area.

This is the Lincoln Memorial.

And this is where we

found the Dyer House.

George Washington hid the

Philosopher's Stone pieces

on the strongest ley line

intersections.

Presumably, that's where

we'll find the last piece.

Whoa. Intense.

Of course.

What? Where is it?

Sleepy Hollow.

Captioned by

Media Access Group at WGBH