Chapter 127
Avengers
Arc 8 - Ch 19: Mind Stone
Friday, May 04, 2012.
Location: Tyson's subconscious, Hallway of Possibilities
Tyson stood in the center of the Hallway of Possibilities. Every door flung wide open, every power at his fingertips, every memory and skill available simultaneously. The limitations that had defined his existence had vanished.
With the Mind Stone, he was completely unhindered.
He took a few steps into the hallway, then stopped.
"Jean."
Like the doors, the memories that she'd locked away were accessible. The Mind Stone had torn through that compulsion, too. It made him wonder how much of his ability to sense every mind on the planet had come from channeling Jean's power alongside the Stone's amplification. She was one of the most powerful telepaths on Earth.
He needed to check on her. To find out what happened.
But time was running out. The real world waited. The Helicarrier, Loki, and the impending invasion. He couldn't spend all day exploring his own mind.
Reluctantly, he turned from Jean's door.
His gaze fell on another doorway nearby. Strangely, he could feel it calling to him.
Despite the urgency to return his consciousness to his body, Tyson couldn't help himself. He moved toward Jubilee's door, needed to see her, even if she was just a fragment of consciousness preserved within his mind.
He stood at the threshold, unable to move or speak. She looked so real. It was both a blessing and a curse; a reminder of what he'd lost and could never fully regain. But the door was open, and nothing was stopping him from walking in.
Something strange happened. Jubilee's eyes flashed black. Not the warm brown he remembered, but deep, impenetrable darkness spreading across her projection's iris and sclera like ink before disappearing.
When her eyes returned to normal, she turned her head, looking directly at him. A smile spread across her face, familiar and bright and everything missing from his life.
"Hey, Ty."
The projections in the Hallway didn't speak. Not except Amora, that first time she'd boosted him.
Was this an effect of the Mind Stone?
He knew that the fragments within his mind were a copy of one's essence, everything they were. An exact duplicate of their consciousness, as they'd been the last time they touched.
This was Jubilee.
Just as she'd been at their last kiss, during their wedding. Before she'd been turned. Before she'd been killed. And with the power of an Infinity Stone within his grasp, he could speak with her.
"Jubilee? Is that... you?"
She tilted her head. "Of course it's me, Ty. Who else would it be?"
Tyson stood frozen. His heart hammered against his ribs. The scent of bubblegum and sparklers wafted toward him, so achingly real it made his chest constrict. Every detail was perfect, from her styled black hair to the mischievous glint in her brown eyes.
"But you don't... the others don't talk. They're just echoes, fragments. They don't interact."
Jubilee laughed. "Well, I guess I'm special then."
The hallway pulsed with yellow energy, illuminating every doorway with cosmic light.
"The Mind Stone," he said. "It's changed everything. Unlocked all the doors."
"So that's why I can talk to you now? The stone is letting you access more of what you absorbed from me." She stepped closer, making her scent wash over him. "The Mind Stone has given you such an amazing gift, Ty. We can be together again."
"But you're in Valhalla. Your soul moved on."
"Did it?" She tilted her head, reaching out to almost touch his face. "Or is that just what Amora told you? The Enchantress who's been manipulating you since day one? The same woman who's trying to bind you to her will?"
Amora was trying to bind him to her will? That wasn't right, was it? He'd absorbed her before, felt her feelings, seen her thoughts. But Jubilee was right. Something felt off. Amora had protected herself from absorption when she'd saved him, when they'd gone to Asgard. In truth, it had been months since he'd absorbed her and gotten a sense of her feelings and intentions.
Jubilee continued, "Think about it. With the Mind Stone's power, you could bring me back. Not just as a memory, but completely. You have my consciousness right here." She gestured to herself. "You have my powers, my memories, everything that makes me me. All you need is a vessel. And you have the knowledge of voodoo, from Calypso, and blood magic from Agatha, along with my blood."
"Death herself said—"
"Death can be overcome." Her eyes flashed yellow for a brief moment. "The Mind Stone is one of the six fundamental forces of the universe. With it, you could protect everyone. No more lost friends." She stepped closer. "No more choosing between the people you love."
"What do you mean?"
"Felicia, Calypso, Maki, Natasha, Karla, Amora... me. You're torn between them all, aren't you? Trying to balance their needs, their feelings. It's only going to get more complicated, more messy." Her smile turned knowing. "With the Stone's power, you wouldn't have to choose. You could be everything for everyone. The protector they need. The lover they want. The hero the world deserves. We could all be yours, and the others too, the ones we know you think about; Jean, Gwen, and more."
The offer was tempting. But something nagged at the back of his mind. This didn't sound like Jubilee. And she'd never met Karla. Tyson hadn't started seeing her until after Jubilee's death…
"I can see what's coming, Ty." Her voice grew urgent. "The Invasion, Thanos, the Celestial Seed, everything. You'll need this power. The world will need it. Just embrace it. Let me help you save everyone."
The Celestial Seed? Was she talking about the Celestial growing inside the Earth, or the seed that Ego planted? The plot from The Eternals or Guardians of the Galaxy 2?
Wait. It didn't matter. He'd never told her about either of those.
"You're not Jubilee."
The figure before him tilted her head. Her expression shifted subtly, its warmth dimmed, replaced by a cold gaze.
"I'm what you want her to be. I'm what you need her to be. Take the power, Tyson. Keep me. Keep all of it."
The voice still sounded like Jubilee's, but the cadence was wrong.
Crushing disappointment settled in his chest. For a brief, beautiful moment, he'd believed he had her back. The pain of that hope being snatched away felt almost physical.
"No." He forced out, though his heart ached. "The real Jubilee would never manipulate me like this. She wanted me to move forward, not cling to the past."
The figure wearing Jubilee's face smiled, but it wasn't her smile anymore. It was older, and far colder.
A yellow glow began burning in her eyes, spreading like molten gold through the veins of her face.
"Such conviction," it said, still using Jubilee's voice, still inhabiting her body, but dropping all pretense. The figure stepped closer, up to the threshold now, nearly within arm's reach. The air between them vibrated with power. "I've seen inside you, Tyson Smith. I've seen the longing, the grief that consumes you in the quiet moments. The what-ifs that haunt your dreams. The desires that you refuse to voice."
Tyson stood his ground, staring down the false Jubilee.
"I've existed since your universe drew its first breath. I've seen civilizations rise and fall, all of them believing they could master me rather than serve. They all failed. Just as you will."
"You don't know me."
The entity laughed. "I know you better than you know yourself. Your desire to protect those you love will be your undoing. Your fear of failing them again will drive you back to me." The hallway pulsed with yellow energy, growing more intense by the moment. "You're stronger than I expected. But everyone breaks eventually. Everyone surrenders to their desires, their drives, in the end."
The false Jubilee reached out, her fingers almost brushing against his cheek, but halting at the threshold. He could feel raw power emanating from her, promising unlimited potential.
Promising he'd never lose anyone again.
For a heartbeat, he wavered. He wanted to take her hand, to regain Jubilee. He wanted the power that she offered, the path to victory and happiness that she promised.
Then he remembered the real Jubilee.
Not this puppet wearing her face, but the woman who had loved him. Who had faced death with courage and wanted him to live, not just survive.
"Maybe in the end. But not today." He turned away from the false Jubilee.
The rejection was deliberate and final. Squaring his shoulders, he felt a strange sense of power in the refusal itself. With his back to the Mind Stone, he said, "I won't trade what she truly was for a convenient copy. Or a cosmic entity with its own agenda, wearing her skin. That would dishonor everything she stood for."
The entity hissed. The yellow energy flared violently, the walls of the hallway seeming to contract as if the fabric of his mindscape bent under its anger. "You refuse me now. But time is on my side. I am eternal."
"I. Am. Inevitable."
The words triggered his memory.
Purple skin, a golden gauntlet, those exact words.
"I am inevitable."
Thanos. From a future that hadn't happened yet, a memory from a movie he'd watched in another life. The Mind Stone was accessing everything he knew, even knowledge from before he arrived in this universe. First, the memory of the Eternals or Guardians, and now Thanos.
"You're reading my memories." Despite the seriousness of this situation. Despite facing a cosmic creation from the origins of this universe, Tyson smiled.
"If you're going to quote Thanos at me, at least remember how that scene ended."
The entity's eyes narrowed, but it didn't have a chance to speak before Tyson continued.
"I... am... Valravn. And I'm not playing your game."
He snapped his fingers in a mocking gesture, and the mindscape was engulfed in blinding white light.
— Rogue Redemption —
The luminescent glow faded from Tyson's body, receding from his veins until only his eyes retained a faint golden shimmer. He blinked several times as his consciousness fully returned to the helicarrier laboratory. The Mind Stone pulsed once more in his hand before settling into a steady, subdued glow. He drew a deep breath, feeling as if he'd been underwater for hours.
"How long was I gone?"
Amora's brow furrowed. She stood exactly where she'd been when he'd first grasped the stone. "Gone? You never left. You just grabbed the stone."
"What?" Tyson looked down at his hand, where the Mind Stone gleamed innocently. "That's impossible. I was... elsewhere. I experienced..." He trailed off, struggling to articulate what he'd just experienced.
"You touched the stone, and your body and eyes glowed yellow for perhaps five seconds. Then you asked how long you were gone."
When he'd overcome and changed the White Room within his mind in Limbo with Illyana, he'd been there for weeks. Five seconds? He'd sensed billions of minds across the planet and explored the Hallway of Possibilities, confronting the false Jubilee. All in the span of a single heartbeat.
"I can't use this thing long. It's... sentient? I don't know, but it definitely has a will of its own."
Amora approached cautiously. "What did it show you?"
"Everything. Every power I've ever absorbed is simultaneously available to me. I can sense every mind on the planet. It offered me..." He hesitated, "It pretended to be Jubilee and tempted me with the hopes of bringing her back.
"What do you need me to do?" Amora asked, reading his expression.
"I had an idea to keep this within Limbo, thinking it would be safe there, but now, I'm not so sure. This thing might corrupt Illyana, or the entire dimension itself."
"You're right to be cautious." She stepped closer to the stone, fingers hovering inches above its surface without touching it. "There might be a way to contain it temporarily. A spell of binding and concealment that would mask its energy signature and prevent it from reaching out to susceptible minds."
It would only be a temporary stopgap. The magics they were capable of couldn't contain an Infinity Stone. The Mind Stone was too dangerous. But sending it to Asgard with Thor seemed problematic, given they would already have the Tesseract.
"This is why the Infinity Stones are contained within artifacts. The Scepter, The Tesseract, the Eye of Agamotto... To contain their power." His eyes widened as the pieces fell into place. "And the Scepter wasn't enough. The influence of the Mind Stone had been leaking through."
He turned the glowing yellow gem over in his hand, careful not to lose himself in its power again. The stone pulsed gently, as if responding to his thoughts, tempting him to tap into its vast well of cosmic energy.
"I need something that can contain it completely. Something that won't let its influence seep out."
"The ancient sorcerers of Asgard crafted the Tesseract."
"The Tesseract…" Tyson mumbled, channeling the intellect of two of the world's smartest men. "It's a perfect hypercube, a container that exists in more dimensions than we can perceive. That's why it can hold the Space Stone so effectively… I might have a solution." He looked at the stone again. "Luckily for me, I have access to the Leader's and Reed Richard's intellect. Between the two of them and Magneto's power, I might be able to design something that can properly contain this thing."
"You're going to use the power boost you gained from the stone to help you contain the stone?" Amora asked skeptically. "That seems... risky. Surely you can see the problem?"
"It is. But I don't see another option. We can't leave it exposed like this, and we can't put it back in the scepter knowing it can influence people's minds through it. I need something that can contain this completely. Something that blocks psionic transmissions."
He paced the laboratory floor, mind racing with calculations and designs. The Mind Stone's power pulsed against his skin, tempting him to dive back into his mind. Then, realization struck. "The helmet. Magneto's helmet. It was designed to block Xavier's telepathy. The alloy composition creates a field that disrupts psionic energy. It could work for the Mind Stone, too."
"You intend to embed it into Magneto's helmet?"
"Not the helmet itself, but its material. The alloy has unique properties that disrupt mental frequencies. And remember, I gave SHIELD a duplicate after the Battle of Times Square. We can repurpose it."
He began lecturing, "Psionic projections and thought itself don't exist purely within our physical space. Consciousness exists in its own dimension, separate but connected to our own. That's why telepaths can communicate across vast distances instantly with thought alone. The Mind Stone operates on that same principle, but at a cosmic scale. It exists simultaneously in multiple dimensions, bridging the gap between physical reality and the realm of pure thought. That's why the scepter was insufficient for containing it."
Amora moved closer, studying the complex diagrams taking shape on the screen. "What modifications are you making?"
"I'm reconfiguring the helmet's internal structure to specifically counter the Mind Stone's energy signature. Thanks to Banner's scans, we know exactly what frequencies and radiations we need to block."
Tyson accessed Azazel's teleportation ability, disappearing in a puff of red smoke. He reappeared moments later, holding the duplicate of Magneto's helmet he'd given to SHIELD that was stored elsewhere on the helicarrier.
He placed it on the examination table.
"The helmet's metal is already designed to create a closed psionic loop. Any telepathic energy that hits it gets reflected back on itself or dispersed harmlessly. We don't need the entire helmet. Just enough of its alloy to craft a container. Something smaller, like an amulet or locket."
Using Magneto's powers, he raised his hand toward the helmet. The metal responded instantly, spitting with one chunk hovering between his outstretched palms.
"Erik never fully understood the quantum properties of his creation."
The helmet began to change shape as he manipulated its molecular structure. The metal flowed like liquid, the crimson surface rippling as it contracted and compressed.
"I'm enhancing the psionic-dampening properties. Creating resonance chambers within the metal that will specifically counter the Mind Stone's frequency."
The floating mass of crimson metal continued to reshape itself, taking the form of an ornate amulet with a circular depression at its center, perfectly sized for the Mind Stone. A delicate chain formed from the same material, extending from the top of the pendant.
"When a telepath tries to read your mind, they're reaching across from the dimension made of pure thought into physical space. This metal creates a boundary that thoughts can't cross. The Mind Stone's energy signature is unique; it doesn't just bridge dimensions, it exists in all of them simultaneously. I need to ensure the amulet can block transmissions across all these planes of existence, creating a kind of dimensional dead zone around the Stone. It's why the hypercube was so effective at containing the Space Stone."
Amora circled the floating amulet. "It still needs a magical component. The metal blocks mental powers, but the Mind Stone is more than that; it's consciousness incarnate."
"That's where I need your expertise. The container needs an enchantment that can reinforce its natural properties, something that can create a barrier in the consciousness dimension. But it needs to be self-perpetuating, powered by the power of thought put out by the Mind Stone."
Amora raised her hands, which began to glow with green energy. "I can weave a containment spell into the metal itself. Something that treats thoughts like physical objects, preventing them from crossing in either direction."
"Would it be similar to your privacy wards?"
"In principle, yes, but far more complex." Her hands danced around the floating amulet, leaving trails of green energy that sank into the metal. "Privacy wards simply prevent scrying and sound from escaping a defined space. This would need to prevent thought itself from penetrating the barrier, in addition to being powered by those same thoughts."
"Could you incorporate elements from the spells used to protect minds from telepathic intrusion?"
"I can adapt those protections. I'll treat the metal as if it were a mind to be protected, creating a barrier that the Stone cannot penetrate."
She held up her hands, which glowed with green energy. Between her palms floated a complex pattern of light that resembled a three-dimensional mandala. "The spell is ready. It will reinforce the locket's natural psionic-blocking properties and extend them specifically to the Mind Stone's unique energy signature."
"Perfect. Now, we need to integrate your enchantment with the modified locket."
They worked in synchronization, integrating the physical and magical components. The crimson amulet hovered between them as Amora's spell slowly merged with the metal.
"The spell needs to be woven into the very atomic structure of the alloy." Her fingers danced through the air as she guided the magical energy. "Each molecule must become a conduit for the containment enchantment."
"I'm altering the quantum state of the metal to accept the magical energy. The molecular bonds are opening just enough. I'm using your knowledge to create microscopic inscriptions that will anchor your spell."
The necklace began to pulse with soft green light that matched Amora's spell as it absorbed the magical energy like a sponge. The crimson surface took on a slight iridescent quality, shifting colors subtly as light played across it. As the enchantment settled into the metal, the green glow faded, leaving the necklace looking almost unchanged except for a subtle shimmer.
"Now for the final test. Let's hope this works."
As he lowered the Mind Stone into the container, there was a moment of resistance, as if the stone itself was pushing back. The yellow light flared brightly, and he felt a last desperate attempt at connection from the stone, a whispered promise of power.
"I won't let you control me."
With a final push of will, he guided the Mind Stone into the circular depression at the center of the amulet. The moment it settled into place, the Stone's pulsing yellow light seemed to dim slightly. He closed the locket, securing it.
"It's working. The amulet is containing the Stone's psionic emissions."
He reached out with his mind, probing gently toward the amulet. Where before he had felt the constant pull of the Mind Stone's consciousness, now there was nothing. A complete absence as if the Stone had ceased to exist.
"I can't sense it at all."
"The enchantment is holding perfectly. The Stone is isolated, unable to reach out."
He carefully lifted the amulet. It showed no sign of the immense power it now contained. He placed it back on the table. "At least now we have options. The Stone is contained, its influence neutralized. We can all think clearly again."
He'd neutralized one of the universe's greatest powers, rendered harmless by a combination of mutant powers, science, and Asgardian magic.
"The Amulet of Captured Thoughts."
Amora studied the amulet with appreciation. "An elegant solution, and a fitting title for something that contains the very essence of mind itself. Who will be its keeper?"
He considered the question carefully. The responsibility of guarding an Infinity Stone was not one to be taken lightly. In the wrong hands, the Mind Stone could still be a weapon of immense power.
"For now, it stays with me. The Mind Stone was meant to remain on Earth. But that's why I created the false scepter. I'm not letting it fall into the hands of HYDRA. I'll keep it until I can determine a more permanent solution."
He slipped the chain over his head, letting the amulet rest against his chest.
"How does it feel?"
"Quiet."
The laboratory door slid open. Natasha stepped in, eyes immediately drawn to the amulet hanging from his neck. "What is that?"
"The solution to our Mind Stone problem. Amora and I created a containment vessel that prevents the stone from influencing minds." Natasha approached slowly, studying the pendant. "The Amulet of Captured Thoughts."
"You're such a nerd for naming it like a D&D magical item."
Tyson stuttered, "You… You're a nerd for even being able to make that connection."
He staggered as the boost granted by the Mind Stone ended. The strength, intelligence, and power he'd gained from all those open doors within his mind vanished, slamming shut with brutal finality. His legs wobbled beneath him, threatening to give out completely.
Amora caught him before he fell, steadying him.
"You're not recovered," Natasha said, stepping closer. "You're moving from temporary boost to temporary boost. Look, you've got the Stone under control. You're amazing. And so on and so on. But we really need you to recover."
He tried to wave her off, but the gesture lacked his usual confidence. "Nat, you have SHIELD stuff to do."
"I'll take him," Amora offered.
But he shook his head. "You've done enough. So much, really. I'd say I owe you one, but we're not exchanging favors anymore." She smiled at that, though concern still lingered in her expression. "I need you to go to New York. Get to the House of M. Tell Felicia, Red Alert. It won't be long until the invasion, she'll understand the reference."
"God, you really are such a nerd."
"You love it."
Amora raised her hand to open a portal. Through the gateway, he recognized her high-rise apartment and the Manhattan skyline visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
"Wait!" He interrupted before she could step through the portal. "I need my sword back."
"I will not question your judgment. Be safe, Valravn. I'll see you soon." She handed him Nexus, then stepped through the portal, which closed behind her with a soft whisper of magic.
"Don't worry about me, and don't let me stop you," he said to Natasha. "You've got other places to be."
Natasha slipped her arm around his waist, taking some of his weight. "I can't leave you alone."
"I need to recover, and fast." He focused on Nexus, slashing and opening a portal in the middle of the hallway. He nearly stumbled in the process.
"What is this?"
"Limbo. I need time. This is a timeless space. I just hope I can use it to recover."
— Rogue Redemption —
Natasha supported Tyson's weight as they entered the metal safehouse within Limbo. Despite how much he outsized her, her spider-strength made moving him easy. The interior of the small cabin was sparse but functional.
"Take Nexus." He said, his voice weakening as he held out the sword.
"Is it safe here?"
"Maybe." His eyes closed.
She laid him on the bed, surprised to find a reasonably comfortable mattress for something made completely from metal. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.
With nothing left to do, she stood and tested the weapon. Nexus felt balanced in her grip, heavier than it looked but with excellent weight distribution. The blade was shorter than standard swords and paired with an extended handle.
She twirled it experimentally. The ninjato style reminded her of a weapon Tyson had favored at Chikara Dojo.
It made her think of simpler days, before alien invasions and Infinity Stones. Back when her biggest concerns were evaluating an Enhanced teenager with a wandering eye and a penchant for gold.
"Nerd," she mumbled with a half-smile, taking an experimental swing of the sword.
The metallic click of the door latch snapped her to attention. Natasha pivoted, raising Nexus.
The white-haired woman who stepped through made her pause.
"Felicia?"
The newcomer froze. Her gaze flicked from the sword to Tyson's unconscious form. "I'm surprised to see you here." She regained her composure and moved toward the bed. "I've been waiting for him to return."
Her spider-sense whispered a warning. "How did you get here?"
"Tyson and I share many secrets. He showed me this safe house months ago," Felicia claimed.
The buzzing warning at the back of her head hadn't abated. "Funny. Tyson didn't mention you'd be here."
"Perhaps he didn't tell you everything. We've grown quite close."
Natasha circled between the imposter and Tyson. The woman looked exactly like Felicia Hardy, but something was fundamentally wrong. "You know what I think? I think you're not Felicia."
The woman stopped, tilting her head in amusement. "Smart girl. But not smart enough."
Natasha's spider-sense flared like an electric current along her spine. The false Felicia transformed, fingernails extending into curved talons, eyes shifting to predatory yellow. She moved with unnatural speed, claws slashing toward Tyson.
Nexus hummed as Natasha intercepted the attack, forcing the demon to retreat. "You have his scent all over you. Claiming what isn't yours."
"I've met Felicia. You're not her. You're just a cheap imitation."
The demon circled the room, dragging one claw along the metal wall and leaving a deep groove in the reinforced steel.
"I am everything she could be without human weakness."
She lunged again, this time directly at Natasha. Her attack pattern shifted mid-leap, feinting left before slashing right. Natasha dropped low, sweeping Nexus in a horizontal arc. The demon twisted mid-air, using the wall as a springboard. Spider-sense tingling, Natasha executed a backflip and landed, raising Nexus in traditional guard position.
During the short break in the fighting, she tracked subtle weight shifts in her opponent; the tension telegraphed the next move. The demon charged, alternating between high and low slashes in a berserker pattern.
Instead of retreating, Natasha stepped into the attack, angling Nexus to deflect and redirect momentum while delivering a spider-strength side kick to her floating ribs.
The impact sent the demon skidding. She recovered instantly, releasing a bestial growl. "You fight like him. But without his power."
"I don't need his power. I have my own."
"Let's see how long that lasts."
A flurry of strikes followed, with each blow coming from a different angle. Where the demon was savage power, Natasha was precision. She deflected a downward slash, letting the claws slide along Nexus's blade before countering with a pommel to the sternum.
It connected solidly. Still, he demon laughed it off. "You'll need to do better."
The next attack came faster, incorporating feints within feints. A claw slipped past Natasha's guard, scraping along her forearm, but failing to penetrate her adamantium suit. Another made contact with her tactical suit at the shoulder. Each successful strike emboldened the demon, who failed to realize that her attacks weren't causing any damage. For Natasha's part, after landing several slashes that healed instantly, she realized she couldn't win a prolonged engagement against a creature with a healing factor like this. She needed to change tactics.
When the demon next lunged, Natasha shot a web directly at her eyes, momentarily blinding her. In that split second, she executed a perfect shoulder throw, using momentum against the demon. It crashed into the wall hard enough to dent the metal. Before recovering, Natasha unleashed web shots, binding its right arm and left leg to the wall.
"Clever girl." The demon snarled, already tearing through the webbing. "But these parlor tricks won't save you."
Natasha advanced with Nexus in a two-handed grip, executing a perfect kendo strike at the junction between neck and shoulder.
The blade connected, but instead of cutting flesh, it was even more effective than expected, passing through the fake Felicia. The demon howled in rage. Where Nexus had struck, her form rippled, revealing glimpses of her true nature beneath the Felicia disguise.
"You're something different. Not just a copy."
The demon screamed; the sound oscillated between Felicia's voice and something inhuman as her form flickered violently. Whiteclaw writhed as Nexus remained embedded in her shoulder. Where the sword made contact, her flesh sizzled and smoked.
"Wait. Please."
"Give me one reason why I shouldn't finish this," Natasha said, applying just enough pressure to keep her opponent immobilized.
"Tyson knows I'm here. He and his group created me."
"Tyson's unconscious and can't confirm that, so try again." Natasha twisted Nexus slightly, eliciting another agonized sound.
"I was born in the mirror dimension. In Las Vegas. When Blackheart created reflections of Tyson and the others."
"That's better," Natasha said. She recalled the briefing about the Las Vegas incident. "You're supposed to be dead. They killed you."
"They were going to kill me, but Tyson banished me here instead."
"And now what? You're here to kill him while he's vulnerable?"
The demon's eyes frantically looked around the room for an escape. When she found none, she said, "Kill him? No. I want to serve him."
"Serve? Liar."
"I can be useful."
"You expect me to believe you want to help? After you just attacked me and tried to attack him?"
"I wanted to test you. To see if you were worthy of him."
Natasha knew this thing was lying, trying to save itself. But should she kill it? Had Tyson saved it for a good reason? Thinking on it for a moment, a demon, bound to Tyson's will, could be valuable. But the risk was enormous.
"Swear it. Swear on your soul that you'll serve him faithfully. You have ten seconds before I see what an anti-magic weapon can do to your body if I cleave through your heart."
Something like respect flickered across the demon's features. "So you understand the power of binding oaths?"
"I understand more than you think." Her time with Tyson had taught her much about the supernatural world's rules. Mostly through anime and fantasy, but the demon didn't need to know that.
"I swear upon my soul that I will serve Tyson Smith faithfully. His enemies are my enemies. His goals are my goals." Her voice took on a formal cadence. "By blood and bone, by fire and night, I bind myself to his service until released or until final death claims me."
As the invisible contract formed, Natasha felt Nexus pulse in her hand, recognizing the oath.
"And what about me? Where do I stand in this arrangement?"
The demon's slitted yellow eyes tracked over her, and she sniffed the air. "You bear him within you. His scent. His power flows in your veins. You are his chosen. I will serve you as I serve him, so long as your desires do not contradict his."
Natasha weighed her options. Her instincts screamed caution, despite the creature's promise. Before she could decide, the air crackled with energy. A glowing portal materialized against the far wall.
She adjusted her stance immediately, maintaining pressure on the demon, using Nexus to keep it pinned, while turning her head to see this new threat.
A blonde woman stepped through the portal wearing silver armor. In her hand, she carried a glowing sword.
Illyana Rasputin surveyed the scene. Tyson was unconscious on the bed, and a beautiful redhead held Nexus, pinning the wounded mirror-demon.
"What the hell is going on here?" Her Russian accent was thick with irritation. She pointed her soulsword directly at Natasha. "Who the hell are you? And why do you have that sword?"
Natasha kept Nexus firm while assessing the newcomer. The blonde woman with the soulsword was young but carried herself with hardened confidence. She recognized her immediately from Tyson's descriptions.
"You must be Illyana. He's mentioned you."
"That doesn't answer my question." The soulsword didn't lower. "Who are you and why do you have his sword?"
"Natasha Romanoff. Tyson probably told you about me. I went by Ms. Rushman when we met."
She lowered the soulsword a fraction. "The hot teacher?"
Natasha smiled. "That's me."
The demon made a sound between a laugh and a growl. "She's more than that now. Much more."
Illyana stepped closer, soulsword still ready but no longer pointed at Natasha. "What happened to him?"
"Exhaustion. He channeled the Mind Stone earlier, after having had two enhancement boosts from Amora."
Illyana's expression darkened. "That would explain it." The demon shifted against the wall, drawing her attention. "This is Whiteclaw—"
"A mirror demon. She claims Tyson spared her life in Las Vegas and sent her here," Natasha interrupted.
"I'm bound to serve him now," the demon quickly added. "By oath and soul."
Illyana studied the demon. "Tyson did spare it. He's sentimental, and weak to a pretty face." She switched to Russian. "Не доверяй ей. Она найдет способ обмануть клятву."
"I know she'll try to break the oath," Natasha replied. "But she might be useful."
"I understand Russian, you know," the demon hissed.
Illyana ignored her, focusing on Tyson. "How long has he been unconscious?"
"Only minutes. Amora said he'd recover in time."
"Amora isn't here. I am. And there is no time here either." She approached the bed, her soulsword dispersing into motes of light as she reached toward Tyson's forehead. Checking his temperature, she cursed as she touched his skin, and his power activated involuntarily.
"He can't heal here, not from this."
Natasha frowned. "This demon healed from my slashes. Why can't Tyson heal from his exhaustion?"
"It's hard to explain, but Whiteclaw, though she's not native to Limbo, is still a demon, and they're made for timeless spaces. We aren't." The demon's lips curled into a smug smile, revealing elongated canines. "Tyson's body will heal from wounds, but Amora's spell doesn't affect his body. It affects his soul. When we're in Limbo, it locks us into an unchanging state, a single moment. His power heals his body, but not his spirit."
Natasha's knowledge didn't cover these nuances. "So what do we do?"
Illyana knelt beside the bed, reaching underneath the frame. Her hand emerged clutching a small vial.
"For emergencies. He left one of these here. It's supposed to be a healing potion made from his blood."
"You're sure that's safe?"
Illyana shrugged. "Safe enough. His blood has... properties. It's not just from his regeneration, the potion contains a small portion of his lifeforce."
"What about this demon?"
"Deal with her later. Tyson first."
Natasha considered her options. Tyson's condition took priority. With reluctance, she pulled Nexus back, maintaining combat stance and ready to strike at the first sign of betrayal.
"Try anything, and I'll show you exactly why Tyson entrusted me with this."
"I have no doubt." Whiteclaw settled into a less threatening posture. "I meant what I said. I'm bound to serve."
Illyana uncorked the vial. She lifted Tyson's head gently, supporting his neck while bringing the vial to his mouth. The potion flowed between Tyson's parted lips. As the last drop disappeared, his body went rigid.
"Is this normal?"
"Define normal." Illyana maintained her grip on Tyson's shoulders to keep him from thrashing.
A faint glow began to emanate from beneath his skin. The effect spread rapidly, covering his torso before branching out to his limbs.
Natasha positioned herself between the demon and the bed, unwilling to trust it despite the oath. "How long will this take?"
"Hard to say. Time works differently here." Illyana checked Tyson's pulse. "His heartbeat is stronger. That's a good sign."
The glow intensified, concentrating around his chest before slowly fading. His breathing steadied, and the tension in his muscles relaxed. His eyelids fluttered.
"He's waking," the demon said.
Tyson's eyes opened, unfocused at first, then sharpened as awareness returned. He blinked several times, gaze traveling from Illyana to Natasha, then fixing on the demon.
He attempted to sit up but winced, falling back against the pillows.
"Easy." Illyana placed a restraining hand on his shoulder. "The potion worked, but you're not fully recovered."
Tyson took in the scene. Natasha's defensive stance, the demon's presence, and Illyana holding the empty vial.
"Should have known you'd try something eventually. Whiteclaw. What are you doing here?"
The demon inclined her head. "I'm here to serve. Master."
"Don't call me that."
"She swore an oath," Natasha explained. "To serve you and, by extension, me."
"Great. Just what I needed."
"The oath is binding," the demon insisted, sounding almost offended. "I cannot break it without sacrificing my soul."
"Which means you'll look for loopholes," Illyana interjected. "That's what your kind does."
Tyson sighed, lying back down. "We'll deal with that later. Right now, I'm going back to sleep. You two love me enough to protect me, right?"
He shot weblines from his wrists and weakly pulled Natasha and Illyana into his arms.
Illyana raised an eyebrow, finding herself pulled against his side with Natasha on his other flank. "You expect us to just lie with you?"
"Protect me." He said with mostly faux weakness and closed his eyes. "I saved the world this morning."
"If I recall, I already rewarded you for that," Natasha said, though she made no move to extract herself.
"That wasn't a reward. You just missed me."
Illyana glanced over Tyson's chest at Natasha, studying her. "Just because I was with you and the others last time doesn't mean it will happen again," she declared.
Tyson cracked one eye open. "We're all Russian here." He closed it again with a satisfied smirk. "No need to be shy."
Natasha snorted. "I'm pretty sure being Russian doesn't automatically qualify as foreplay."
"Your accent says otherwise."
Illyana rolled her eyes and pulled away, sitting up on the edge of the bed. "You're impossible. And you saved a hot demon and preserved it, sending it to Limbo. Because of course you did. I'm still not happy about that."
"You're one to talk. As I recall, you seemed rather enamored with Felicia during our last... meeting. How can you blame me?"
A faint blush colored Illyana's cheeks. "That's different."
"How so?"
"Felicia is human. Mostly."
The demon took a seductive step closer. "We're not so different, you and I."
"Don't come any closer, hellspawn," Illyana snapped.
"Falling for a demon's wiles is literally what they warn people about in myths and stories," Natasha noted. "It never ends well for the humans involved."
"I didn't fall for anything. I made a tactical decision."
Natasha arched an eyebrow. "A tactical decision to preserve something that looks exactly like Felicia, but is actually a demon created with magic to kill you and your friends?"
"When you put it that way, it does sound suspicious."
The demon laughed. "I like this one."
"Hands off," Tyson warned. "She's taken."
"Possessive. As if your scent on her wasn't enough."
"Enough," Tyson ordered despite his lingering weakness. "Whiteclaw, go make sure no demons approach this home."
The demon nodded and backed away, melting into the shadows at the edges of the room. Her yellow eyes remained visible in the darkness, watching.
"Now that that's done." Tyson gestured between the two women. "Illyana Rasputin, meet Natasha Romanoff. Officially, I mean."
The two women assessed each other, recognizing a worthy equal. Natasha extended her hand first. "We've been circling each other for the past few minutes, but it's good to finally meet you properly. Tyson speaks highly of you."
Illyana took the offered hand. "He talks about you, too. Often." She moved toward a small table in the corner and reached to grab a bottle of vodka and three glasses from the ground.
She poured three generous measures and passed them around. Tyson waved his off and lay back.
"So." Natasha raised her glass in a silent toast before taking a sip. "The infamous Magik. Sorceress, wielder of the Soulsword."
"And you, the legendary Black Widow. Master assassin, Avenger, and the woman who apparently has Tyson wrapped around her finger."
Tyson opened his mouth to object, then thought better of it and closed his eyes.
"I wouldn't say wrapped around my finger." Natasha smiled. "It was hard to live up to the impression you made. Saving him from Magneto was quite the entrance."
Illyana's posture shifted subtly, the compliment catching her off guard. "I was just in the right place at the right time."
"From what Tyson tells me, you attacked an Omega-level mutant to save him. That's more than coincidence."
"And from what he's told me, you would sacrifice yourself for the Soul Stone to save half the universe." She laughed, the sound surprisingly warm. "You set an impossible standard, Widow. Hard to compete with someone willing to throw themselves off a cliff for the greater good."
"That hasn't happened. Likely may never happen now."
"But you would do it if it came down to it. You'd make that jump."
Natasha didn't deny it. "Would you?"
"Good thing I didn't know about it when I first started seeing Tyson. I might have just given up trying to live in your shadow."
"There's no shadow. Just different paths leading to the same goal."
"And what goal is that?"
"Survival. For those we care about, if not always for ourselves."
Illyana's expression softened. "You've been to Russia recently."
"Yes. How did you know?"
"From what he told me." Illyana's smile was tinged with nostalgia. "I miss home, in a complicated way."
"Complicated is the right word for it. Russia is beautiful and brutal in equal measure."
"Like it's women," Illyana added with a knowing smirk.
Tyson snored, or was it snorted, drawing their attention momentarily before they returned to their assessment of each other.
"He tells me you were sold as a child. By relatives, after your parents died."
Illyana's eyes flashed dangerously at the shift of their conversation into matters she believed private, but still, she didn't deny it. "He told me you were taken by the Red Room as a girl. Trained to kill before you could properly grow up."
"Seems we both had our childhoods stolen."
"And both found ways to reclaim our power." Illyana raised her glass in acknowledgment.
They drank in companionable silence for a moment.
"And somehow we both ended up here, babysitting him."
Tyson made an indignant noise. "I'm not—"
"Shh," both women said in unison, not even looking in his direction.
"Go to sleep," Natasha said, before prompting. "You were saying?"
"I was saying that we're more alike than different. We both survived what should have broken us. Both forged weapons from our trauma."
"Both found a family where we could, though we were removed from it."
"And both apparently have questionable taste in men," Illyana said with a pointed look at Tyson, who was wisely pretending to be asleep.
Natasha's laugh was quiet but genuine. "That's still up for debate."
Illyana refilled their glasses one more time. "To surviving impossible odds."
"And to finding unexpected allies along the way." Natasha clinked her glass against Illyana's.
— Rogue Redemption —
As they stepped through the portal back into the helicarrier. Natasha hesitated.
"Go," Tyson said softly. "Do your thing. I'm just mad that I won't get to see you do it in that banging uniform I made."
Natasha rolled her eyes, but stepped back into the corridor.
Loki paced inside his transparent cell, designed to plummet to Earth at the push of a button. He suddenly stopped, and a smile curved his lips. "There aren't many people who can sneak up on me." He turned to see Natasha Romanoff standing outside, her face impassive, body language giving nothing away.
"But you figured I'd come."
"After. After whatever tortures Fury can concoct, you would appear as a friend, as a balm. And I would cooperate." His smile widened. "Or perhaps you would appear with the Mirage. The serious counterpoint to the treacherous defender of Midgard."
"I'm not here to play good cop, bad cop, or about Mirage. I wanna know what you've done to Agent Barton."
"I'd say I've expanded his mind."
"And once you've won. Once you're king of the mountain. What happens to his mind?"
"Is this love, Agent Romanoff?"
"Love is for children. I owe him a debt."
Loki sat down on the bench, leaning forward with renewed interest. "Ah, yes. Mirage is a child, even by your standards on Midgard, is he not? Tell me of your debt."
Natasha pulled up a chair, settling into it with casual ease. "By our laws, he is an adult. But when you fought, yes, he was technically still a child. Again, this isn't about him, it's about me, and Clint." She paused. "Before I worked for SHIELD, I uh... Well, I made a name for myself. I have a very specific skill set. I didn't care who I used it for or on. I got on SHIELD's radar in a bad way. Agent Barton was sent to kill me, and he made a different call."
"And what will you do if I vow to spare him?"
"Not let you out."
Loki laughed. "Ah, no. But I like this game. Your world in the balance, and you bargain for one man?"
"Regimes fall every day. I tend not to weep over that. I'm Russian... or was."
"What is it you want?"
"It's really not that complicated. I've got red in my ledger, and I'd like to wipe it out."
Something shifted in Loki's demeanor. The playful malice hardened, growing colder, more calculated. He stood threateningly.
"Can you? Can you wipe out that much red? Drakov's daughter? São Paulo? The hospital fire?" His voice rose with each question, each accusation. "Barton told me everything. Your ledger is dripping; it's gushing red, and you think saving a man no more virtuous than yourself will change anything?" He stalked forward, pressing against the glass. "This is the basest sentimentality. This is a child at prayer... Pathetic! You lie and kill in the service of liars and killers."
Natasha stood with her arms crossed, her posture unchanged, but her eyes took on a sheen as they grew wet.
"You pretend to be separate, to have your own code, something that makes up for the horrors. But they are a part of you, and they will never go away." Loki slammed his fist against the glass. "And now you seek comfort in the arms of a monster who steals the very essence of others."
Natasha's expression flickered, her mouth opened in surprise.
"Oh yes. Barton spoke of your dalliance with the Mirage. How fitting that the woman who has worn a thousand faces would find solace with a man who wears the stolen powers of others like trophies."
Loki pressed closer to the glass, his breath fogging it slightly.
"Does he know the depths of your depravity? The true count of bodies that lie in your wake? Or do you hide behind the same masks you present to everyone else? Perhaps that is what draws you to him. The comfort of another who lives behind illusions."
"I wonder what he would think if he knew the full extent of your ledger. If he knew that the woman who warms his bed had bathed in enough blood to drown a nation." Loki's smile was cruel. "Or perhaps he already knows, and that is the true tragedy. That you have found the one person who sees the monster beneath and chooses to lie beside it anyway."
"Tell me, Agent Romanoff, when you stand beside your Mirage, do you feel cleansed of your sins? Or do you merely add to his collection of broken things?"
Natasha lowered her eyes, a slight tremor visible in her shoulders. The wetness in her eyes threatened to spill over. "He..." her voice faltered, "he sees me. All of me."
Loki's smile widened with cruel satisfaction. "And what a sight that must be. The spider with her web of lies, now caught in the embrace of a parasite."
"You don't understand what we—" Natasha stopped herself, as if the words were too painful.
"Oh, but I do. Two monsters seeking redemption in each other's arms. How poetic. And how utterly futile."
Natasha sat perfectly still now, her gaze fixed on some invisible point on the floor. "You're wrong about him."
"Am I? Tell me, does your Mirage truly control the powers he steals, or do they control him? What happens when he faces a power beyond his comprehension or control?"
A flicker of genuine concern crossed Natasha's features. "What do you mean?"
"There are forces in this universe that would give even your monster pause. Forces that cannot be resisted."
Natasha's breathing hitched slightly, but she remained silent, letting her apparent distress draw Loki deeper into his monologue. She whispered, her voice deliberately fragile. "This team—"
"This team? You're not a team. When divine intervention arrives, your pathetic bonds will shatter like glass."
"Divine intervention?"
"Even angels fall, Agent Romanoff. Some fall to serve a greater purpose. And when winged grace meets unbridled fury, your world will kneel in terrified awe."
"This is madness."
"No. This is clarity. When the beast breaks free, guided by hands from beyond, your mortal science and stolen powers will be useless against what follows. And I shall watch as everything you've built crumbles to ash." His voice dropped lower. "I won't touch Barton. Not until I make him kill you! Slowly. Intimately. In every way, he knows you fear! And when he wakes just long enough to see his good work, and when he screams, I'll split his skull! This is my bargain, you mewling quim!"
A single tear slipped down Natasha's cheek; perfectly timed. "You're a monster."
"No. I'm the visionary who recognized what monsters could truly become with the right... influence."
Natasha's posture transformed instantly. The tear seemed to evaporate, her eyes clear and calculating. She rose smoothly to her feet, all traces of vulnerability gone. "So that's it."
Loki's expression froze. "What?"
"Banner." Natasha was already at the door, hand to her earpiece, updating the others. Her demeanor was all business now. "Loki means to unleash the Hulk and control him." She spoke into her comm, her voice crisp and professional. Looking back at Loki's thunderstruck face, she added, "And he has another god working with him, an angel."
Realization dawned on Loki's face, quickly replaced by rage. "You can't stop what's coming. When the beast breaks free and my angel descends, you'll wish you had accepted your fate."
"Thank you for your cooperation."
Loki slammed his fist against the glass again, his composure shattered. "You think you know pain? She'll make you long for something as sweet as pain!"
Natasha didn't look back, but the faintest smile touched her lips as she disappeared down the corridor. The God of Mischief had been played at his own game.