Excerpt:

It started with a snowflake: a solitary bit of ice that brought the cyberdepths of the underworld grinding to a halt.  Scheduled torture ceased mid-pulse.  Tormented cries dwindled into silence.  Virtua-metallic ooze dared not raise a single, silver bubble as the foreign matter floated gracefully down over an endless vista of steel cubicles and lucific blue lighting.   

Vixen gripped the console as the snowflake wafted past her observation spire in the direction of the command deck.  It spiraled down, down, down and came to rest at The Dark One's feet.  All the damned watched as it evaporated in the superheated air.

Satan's face twisted with the overture to a demonic hissy fit, and Vixen winced at the look on her father's face.

This can't be good.