Richard closed the folder in his hand without the slightest change in expression and looked across the table at Wilson Fisk. His tone was calm, almost indifferent, as he spoke. "You said you wouldn't bargain as long as it was within your ability. But what you're offering isn't attractive to me."
He tossed the documents back onto the table, the stack sliding slightly before coming to a stop, and then rose from his seat. Without hesitation, he turned toward the door, clearly prepared to leave the hotel and end the negotiation there.
"Mr. Wesley, please wait," Fisk said immediately, his deep voice cutting through the room. "I have something else that might interest you."
Richard paused mid-step and glanced back at him. "What is it?"
"A piece of intelligence," Fisk replied quickly.
Richard's brow furrowed faintly. "Don't posture. Just tell me what it is."
If he could avoid it, Fisk would have preferred not to reveal this information so early. Even disclosing a fragment of it reduced its value significantly. But right now, he didn't have the luxury of holding cards. After two seconds of silence, he spoke.
"The Department of Mutant Affairs is preparing a plan to capture you."
Richard almost laughed. "Capture me? Who gave them that confidence?"
Before he had become an Omega-level mutant, they might have had a sliver of hope. Now he possessed two Omega-tier abilities along with a suite of template powers layered on top. The probability of them successfully detaining him was so close to zero it might as well not exist.
Seeing the dismissive look in Richard's eyes, Fisk continued. "I know you're strong. But my informant says they've developed a specific method to deal with you. I don't know the details yet, but they're extremely confident. And S.H.I.E.L.D. and the military will participate in the operation."
For most mutants, that combination would spell disaster. The Department, S.H.I.E.L.D., and the military together represented overwhelming force.
Richard wasn't most mutants.
He didn't believe they had any high-end combat assets capable of matching him. As for S.H.I.E.L.D., their trump card was Captain Marvel. In terms of raw strength, she wasn't weak. But Richard didn't believe she could cause him meaningful trouble.
After a short pause, he spoke again. "If you want me to help you deal with the Department and the military, that's not impossible. But a vague promise and one piece of intelligence aren't enough. If you want me involved, you'll need to give me something else."
Fisk didn't hesitate. "What do you need?"
"Keel," Richard replied evenly. "You're familiar with the Five Fingers of the Hand. They have something called dragon bones. I want them. Deliver those to me, and I'll handle your Department problem."
Fisk had never heard of dragon bones before. He had no idea what "keel" truly meant in this context. But the request didn't sound impossible. After only a brief consideration, he nodded. "No problem. If you want it, Mr. Wesley, I'll deliver the dragon bones to you."
Richard inclined his head once, then left the room without another word.
As he walked through the hotel lobby, he noticed employees and guests staring intently at their phones, faces tense and focused. Curious, he pulled out his own phone and opened a major news site.
The headline was impossible to miss.
The Fantastic Four and Ghost Rider were fighting in Brooklyn.
Without a second thought, Richard activated teleportation directly from the lobby. In an instant, space folded, and he reappeared on a rooftop overlooking the battle zone in Brooklyn.
Below, Ghost Rider was fighting four opponents at once. Though outnumbered, he showed no signs of being overwhelmed. The Fantastic Four's attacks weren't doing real damage.
Hellfire engulfed Ghost Rider's skeletal frame. It looked like ordinary flame, but its temperature and properties were far beyond anything natural. Water couldn't extinguish it. Vacuum couldn't suffocate it. It ignored conventional physics entirely.
Compared to that, the Human Torch's flames were merely natural combustion. They needed oxygen. They could be smothered. Even if Johnny Storm in the comics could unleash nova-level bursts, this version clearly couldn't reach that scale.
Richard watched quietly from above, studying the exchange.
Mr. Fantastic, Invisible Woman, the Thing, and the Human Torch hadn't originally known what Ghost Rider was. They had responded because reports described "Human Torch versus Flame Skeleton." Seeing Johnny engaged, the others rushed in to assist.
Now they were paying for that decision.
The Thing had taken the brunt of a counterattack. Even with his rocky durability, Hellfire burned him blackened and smoking. He lay near a ruptured hydrant, letting water pour over him in a futile attempt to ease the agony.
Without him acting as the frontline shield, Reed and Sue were forced onto the defensive. Sue's force fields barely deflected the Ghost Motorcycle's high-speed charges. If not for her barriers, their injuries would have been catastrophic.
After several minutes of observation, Richard made his move.
He infused magic into his tailored suit, transforming it into a long black windbreaker reminiscent of Sephiroth's silhouette. Then he drew the authentic Yamato Blade from his system space.
Teleportation activated again.
He appeared directly beside Reed and Sue, who were concealed within an invisible force field. Though unseen by normal vision, their positions were trivial for someone with high-tier telepathy to lock onto.
"You can't handle him," Richard said evenly. "Take Jonathan and Ben and step back. He's mine."
Sue dismissed the invisibility field immediately. "Then we're counting on you."
"You're welcome."
He walked forward toward Ghost Rider, who immediately sensed something far worse than the others. The Spirit of Vengeance perceived sin in Richard far beyond normal humans.
Without hesitation, Ghost Rider accelerated straight at him. Hellfire-wrapped tires scorched the asphalt.
At the last instant before impact, Richard raised the Yamato Blade.
Eight Swords Flash.
Eight razor arcs carved through space in a blink.
The Ghost Motorcycle and its rider were sliced into dozens of pieces, fragments scattering across the street. The scene went silent.
Spectators stared in disbelief. Even the police officers and civilians who had refused to evacuate were stunned. The being that had overwhelmed the Fantastic Four had just been diced apart in a heartbeat.
But Richard didn't celebrate. He watched.
Under the influence of Hellfire, the shattered remains began reassembling. Within seconds, Ghost Rider stood whole again.
Richard swung once more, this time using Earth Shatter. Four slashes cleaved through the restored form, reducing it to pieces again.
It reassembled again.
Richard noticed something subtle. The restoration took slightly longer this time. A fraction of a second, but measurable.
A faint smile appeared on his face.
He began systematically cutting Ghost Rider apart. Eight slashes. Restoration. Four slashes. Restoration. Again and again.
Minutes passed. Then dozens of repetitions.
The pattern became obvious. He was draining it.
Ghost Rider attempted counterattacks. Chains lashed out. Hellfire flared violently. The Penance Stare tried to lock onto him. None of it worked.
Richard's energy absorption mitigated Hellfire. Telepathy prevented targeting. His genetic defenses insulated his mind. Gravity and magnetic manipulation allowed total battlefield control.
If there was a weakness, it was his lack of soul-based abilities. But that would soon change.
After being dismembered hundreds of times, the Spirit of Vengeance finally snapped.
Instead of restoring its host again, it initiated self-destruction.
Hellfire surged from the scattered remains, gathering into a blazing sphere more than five meters wide. The intent was simple: force Richard back with an explosion, then use its immortality to regenerate at a distance and escape the relentless assault.
The Spirit of Vengeance wasn't particularly intelligent. It possessed consciousness, but it operated mostly on instinct.
.....
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