Azazel's hand moved instantly.
The Red Devil yanked the scimitar from his waist and shifted his stance, muscles coiling beneath the black suit. His eyes locked onto Richard with deadly seriousness. If he had come alone, he would have teleported away without hesitation—or attempted to kill Richard outright.
But Emma was here.
That complicated everything.
Azazel's mind raced, calculating how to extract her before things escalated beyond control. He couldn't afford to abandon her—not with Shaw waiting for results.
Richard, however, didn't give him time to calculate further.
Masamune materialized in his hand in a shimmer of silver light.
Without warning, he tapped the flat of the blade lightly against Emma's pale cheek. The steel was cold.
"If you don't want to get hurt," Richard said calmly, "move aside."
Emma did not flinch.
Her expression shifted—not to fear, but to thoughtfulness. Several conclusions flashed through her mind in rapid succession.
Is he connected to Mystique?
Did Azazel really assault her?
Emma and Azazel were allies, yes. But that didn't mean she trusted him blindly. She knew exactly what kind of men Shaw, Azazel, and Riptide were. Ambitious. Ruthless. Opportunistic.
She was also a woman.
If Azazel had forced himself on Mystique once, there was no guarantee he wouldn't attempt the same with her one day.
She stepped back slowly.
Azazel noticed the look she gave him.
"I didn't rape Mystique," he said through clenched teeth.
Whether he was telling the truth didn't matter.
Richard had already made his decision.
The question had never been about morality. He wanted one piece of information: whether Kurt Wagner in this world was Azazel's son.
Blue skin in the film. Canonical lineage in the comics.
That was all.
Richard tilted his head slightly.
"One last question," he said. "Have you ever heard the story of 'I don't eat beef'?"
Azazel blinked.
Emma frowned.
The phrase made no sense.
What was he doing?
Before Azazel could finish forming a response, something primal surged through him.
A warning.
Death.
He realized it instantly.
Distraction.
Richard had been stalling.
Azazel didn't wait for clarification. He initiated teleportation immediately.
But he was too late.
When Richard asked that absurd question, he had already locked the technique.
Dimension Slash.
Teleportation required a fraction of a second of preparation. Even Azazel needed that microscopic interval to fold space.
That interval was enough.
Space twisted violently around Azazel.
An invisible force clamped down on him, distorting the air and compressing the environment into a warped prison. The spatial distortion pinned him in place mid-preparation.
Then the crescent blades appeared.
They formed from nothing—arcs of cutting force slicing inward from all directions.
Chi. Chi. Chi.
The sounds were almost delicate.
Azazel's body—and the scimitars in his hands—stood no chance.
The crescent energy passed through flesh and steel alike as if cutting through soft cake. In less than a second, the Red Devil was carved into irregular fragments that fell to the rooftop in wet silence.
There was no scream.
No counterattack.
No teleportation.
Just pieces.
Emma stared.
She had watched recordings of Richard annihilating the Los Angeles branch. She had seen him use this technique before.
But witnessing it in person was different.
Azazel hadn't even resisted.
How strong is he?
Is he… Omega?
Richard ignored her shock.
He activated Plunder.
[New abilities acquired: Teleportation. Immortality.][Similar abilities detected. Initiating fusion.][Teleportation enhanced.]
He frowned slightly.
Azazel's comic counterpart possessed more than these two abilities—temporal stasis, paralysis, shape-shifting, will manipulation.
But this version was simpler.
He opened the immortality description briefly.
[Immortality – Extended lifespan. Current level: Alpha.]
He closed the panel.
Then he walked toward Emma.
Masamune rested loosely in his hand.
Emma straightened instinctively as he approached. For the first time since arriving, her composure was not flawless.
He stopped in front of her and looked her over calmly.
"You're a woman," he said evenly. "So you get one more question than he did."
Emma's jaw tightened slightly.
"First," he continued, "how old are you?"
"Second, why is the Hellfire Club inviting Alpha and Beta mutants?"
"Third, did you capture twins named Wanda and Pietro?"
His eyes held hers steadily.
"Think carefully. Your answers determine whether you leave this rooftop alive."
He was interested in her. That much was obvious.
But interest did not equal mercy.
If she lied, he would cut her down without hesitation and take her telepathy and diamond form for himself.
Emma inhaled slowly.
The first and third questions caught her off guard.
She understood his curiosity about the Club's plans. That was logical.
But why her age?
And how did he know about Wanda and Pietro?
After more than ten seconds of careful thought, she answered.
"I'm twenty-six."
"We're inviting new core members. Strengthening the Club."
"As for Wanda and Pietro… yes. They're being held by us."
She paused briefly.
"I don't know where. Only Shaw knows the location. He led the capture personally. I wasn't involved."
Richard watched her closely.
His first instinct was suspicion.
But he noticed something subtle—her shoulders trembling faintly despite her attempt to remain composed.
Fear.
Not deception.
He considered.
If she were lying, her telepathic control would likely be steadier.
"Since you don't know where they are," he began.
"Don't kill me," Emma interrupted suddenly.
Her composure cracked just enough.
"I'll be useful to you alive."
Her blue eyes met his directly.
"Whatever you need. As long as it's within my power, I won't refuse."
.....
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