The fusion of Melinda May and Phil Coulson was a masterclass in tactical synergy.
He's inside her... Literally.
They covered each other's weaknesses perfectly: May provided the impenetrable liquid-metal chassis to shield Coulson's mortal frame, while Coulson became the ultimate anti-magic weapon.
Facing the three rushing demons, the "Iron Cavalry" didn't even slow down. May maneuvered the suit with fluid grace, dodging claws and hellfire, positioning Coulson perfectly to strike.
Coulson simply reached out, his right hand brushing against the demons' chests. The moment his skin made contact, the supernatural energy animating them unraveled.
They collapsed into piles of ash without a sound.
With the guardians dead, Coulson turned his attention to the skeletal pillars. One touch, one shatter.
As the anchors crumbled, the tear in the sky began to seal, stemming the tide of the invasion.
"These two... annoying insects." Roarke's face twisted with impatience. He hadn't expected the non-powered humans to be the wrench in his gears.
He prepared to cast a spell to crush them, but his instincts screamed a warning. Roarke backpedaled frantically, the air in front of him splitting with a deafening hiss.
"Eyes on the prize, ugly."
Ethan Hunt stood amidst a pile of dismembered demons, holding a forty-meter blade of superheated plasma.
He was using vector manipulation to compress ionized gas into a magnetic field so tight it hummed like a chainsaw.
"You..." Roarke stared at Ethan, genuine fear creeping into his eyes.
Before Locke could react, a chain of hellfire whipped out from the shadows, wrapping tight around his right arm.
"Got you," Ghost Rider rasped, stepping into the light. "Your trial begins now."
TEAR!
Realizing the Penance Stare was imminent, Locke didn't hesitate. He savagely yanked his body away, tearing his own arm off at the shoulder to break the Rider's grip.
"I told you to look at me."
Ethan was already there. He had manipulated the air resistance to zero, moving faster than the eye could track.
The plasma blade flashed.
Ethan didn't just cut him; he dissected him. He severed Locke at the waist, then quartered the torso, reducing the possessed body of Eli Morrow to chunks of meat in a fraction of a second.
"Finisher!" Ethan growled. He condensed a sphere of ball lightning in his palm, amplifying the voltage to critical levels, and smashed it into the remains.
ZHUUM!
The flesh incinerated. But instead of victory, a familiar black smog erupted from the ashes.
It swirled away, retreating to a cluster of demons before coalescing back into Roarke. He looked completely unharmed.
"Demons might dislike lightning," Roarke grinned, smoothing his suit, "but we don't fear it."
Behind him, where his blood had splattered, fresh bone pillars erupted from the concrete, undoing Coulson's hard work.
"Hey!" Coulson's voice came from the silver armor, sounding exasperated. "Does this count as adding to my workload? I just cleaned this area!"
"The altar isn't the pillars," Luna called out, her eyes glowing as she analyzed the ley lines. "It's him. Roarke is the living focal point. Destroying the pillars is a temporary fix. We have to break the source."
Coulson looked at the army of demons shielding Locke and sighed. "Well, that task difficulty just spiked."
Ethan looked at the armored Coulson, and then at the regenerating demon. A memory of his mentor at the Academy—Magneto—flashed through his mind. A specific lesson on projectile dynamics.
"Hey, Coulson," Ethan said, a dangerous grin spreading across his face. "How about we fight side-by-side?"
"Aren't we doing that now?" Coulson asked, stepping back. "Why do I have a bad feeling about this?"
"We need more kinetic impact. And you need a delivery system."
Before Coulson could protest, Ethan raised his hand. He manipulated the gravity vectors around the Iron Cavalry armor, lifting Coulson off the ground and pulling him into a hover directly in front of him.
"Melinda's armor doesn't have thrusters! What are you doing?" Coulson's voice rose an octave.
"Just keep your right hand forward. You're the missile." Ethan snapped his fingers, manipulating the air pressure against Coulson's boots to create a solid launch platform.
"Ethan, this is the worst plan I have ever heard!" Coulson shouted as the demons began to swarm.
"Trust the physics! Going up!"
Ethan swung his plasma blade to clear the immediate area, then grabbed the back of the armor. He applied a massive vector magnitude to Coulson's center of mass.
LAUNCH.
"NOOOoooo—!"
Coulson was fired like a railgun shell. He tore through the air, the silver armor blurring into a streak of light. A bone pillar loomed in his path. Instinctively, Coulson threw out his right hand.
SHATTER.
The moment his fingers brushed the magical construct, it dissolved into dust. The anti-magic properties of his hand cleared the path instantly.
"Ethan, stop spinning me! I'm gonna be sick!"
"Bombs away!" Ethan shouted, ignoring the complaints. He tweaked the vector angle, hurling Coulson directly at Roarke.
"What are they doing?" Roarke watched the silver projectile screaming toward him with confusion.
Coulson, realizing he was past the point of no return, clenched his right fist. "Alright, Roarke! Incoming!"
"Pass," Locke sneered.
With supernatural agility, Roarke bent his body backward at an impossible angle, letting Coulson fly harmlessly over him.
"Idiot," Roarke mocked, looking at Ethan. "I am a Lord of Hell. I don't trade punches with human missiles."
"Really?" Ethan smirked. "Check your six."
Ethan clenched his fist. Vector Manipulation: Rebound.
He seized the kinetic energy vector of the flying Coulson and reversed it instantly.
SCREECH!
Mid-air, Coulson stopped dead, the G-force negated by Ethan's precise control, and immediately accelerated backward.
"Oh, come on!" Roarke turned, panic finally setting in. He threw up his hands, conjuring a wall of diamond, then a barrier of steel.
It was futile.
Coulson's right hand punched through the diamond wall. It didn't crack; it vanished. The steel barrier evaporated upon contact. Fireballs, wind blades—every magical construct Locke threw was deleted from reality the moment it touched that hand.
"Impossible! Why are my laws failing?!" Roarke screamed.
"Your subscription just expired."
Coulson's fist connected squarely with Locke's face.
CRUNCH!
Roarke flew backward, smashing into the asphalt. He tried to stand, but immediately vomited black blood. The glowing runes on his skin began to flicker and die.
The structural integrity of his possessed body was collapsing—Coulson hadn't just punched him; he had disrupted the magical binding holding the atoms together.
THUMP.
The Darkhold slid out of Roarke's chest. Before Roarke could scramble for it, the book levitated and flew into Luna's hand.
"Possession transfer complete," Luna said coolly, holding the book.
"Fine," Roarke wheezed, his body crumbling into dust. "Keep the book for now. But remember... I will return."
"I'm counting on it." Luna flicked a finger. A bolt of silver-blue energy struck the crumbling demon, purifying the remnants and banishing the consciousness back to the abyss.
"So," Ethan walked up, kicking a pile of ash. "Is he dead-dead?"
"Clone," Luna explained. "The real Roarke is in Hell. He cut the connection to save himself."
"Wait," Ethan rubbed his temples. "So Roarke is a clone of Mephisto... and this guy was a clone of Roarke? Hell's organizational chart is a nightmare."
"It's a hierarchy of paranoia," Luna shrugged. "The bosses turn their strongest generals into avatars to control them. 'My avatar's avatar is not my avatar.' Standard demonic politics."
"Miss Witch, you seem very knowledgeable about Hell," Coulson said, walking over. The liquid armor retracted, revealing his suit. He looked slightly green from the flight. "Director Fury would love to debrief you."
Luna rolled her eyes. "I have zero interest in S.H.I.E.L.D. If you want info on Hell, ask the one hiding in the shadows over there."
Ghost Rider stiffened. The flames on his skull flared white-hot. "I smell... sulfur."
"Knight," a cultured, elderly voice echoed from the darkness. "You really should learn to curb your temper. The new Sorcerer Supreme may have paused our contract, but you are still mine."
An old man stepped into the light. He wore a pristine three-piece suit, a top hat, and leaned on a cane topped with a black skull. He looked like a gentleman on his way to the opera.
"Mephisto!" Ethan yelped.
Ethan frantically scanned the area, his eyes darting around until they locked onto his spatial ring.
He reached in and pulled out the heaviest object he could find—a massive, forty-kilogram sledgehammer.
Memories of their last encounter flooded back. Ethan gripped the handle tight. He had beaten the Devil back to Hell with a hammer once, and he'd do it again. It was his security blanket.
Mephisto froze.
The Lord of Hell actually took a half-step back, eyeing the hardware with genuine distaste.
"Now, now," Mephisto said, raising a placating hand. "Put the hammer down. Let's be civilized here. I'm not here to fight."
Ethan blinked. "You... you're scared of the hammer?"
"It was a very undignified experience," Mephisto muttered, adjusting his tie. "I prefer not to repeat it. It ruins the suit."
"Do you two have history?" Luna asked, amused.
"We had a social engagement," Ethan said, hefting the hammer. "It didn't end well."
"Agreed," Mephisto nodded. "Terrible party etiquette."
"Why are you here, Mephisto?" Luna cut to the chase, clutching the Darkhold.
"I imagine you've deduced it, Your Highness," Mephisto bowed slightly to the Atlantean princess. "The Convergence is approaching. The Nine Realms are aligning. Hell is drifting closer to Earth's plane. The barriers are... thin."
"So you sent Roarke to pave the way?" Luna accused.
"Pleasee. Roarke is a traitor," Mephisto spat, his gentlemanly facade cracking. "He stole the Darkhold and ran away to start his own kingdom. I intended to arrive early, to secure my interests before Odin finally dies, but Roarke ruined everything."
It was an embarrassing admission for a Hell Lord. His own clone had rebelled, stolen his power source, and tried to set up shop on Earth.
"Listen," Mephisto said, smoothing his lapels. "I want that traitor dead just as much as you do. I can't have a rogue element running around ruining my reputation. So... I propose an alliance."
Ethan looked at the old man, then at the hammer, then back at the old man. "You want us to team up with the Devil? That's your pitch?"
_______________________________
Word count: 1716
Comment below on what you think so far.
If anyone of you is interested in reading some advanced chapters, you can check out my p@ tr*on.
p@tr*on.co m/Rai_jin
Thanks for reading guys!