"Sarah... if I’m being honest, I’m not a fan of my current situation."
Natasha Romanoff lay on the ground with both wrists bound above her head, frowning up at the succubus.
For all her skill, she was still only human.
Sarah, meanwhile, had reverted to her true demonic form and was wielding the weapon she knew best.
The fight hadn’t lasted long.
Natasha had been decisively subdued.
"What’s wrong with it?" Sarah asked with a seductive smile.
She lay comfortably beside Natasha, lazily twirling a blade of grass across the agent’s cheek.
"Everything will be over soon."
"Isn’t taking a little break together nice?"
"If what you said is true, and this whole operation is ultimately for the best..."
Natasha turned her face away from the tickling grass.
"...then why let things become such a mess?"
"Who knows?"
Sarah shrugged.
"The boss has his own plans."
"And honestly..."
"If you’d all arrived just a little later, none of this would’ve happened."
Natasha sighed.
She doubted she’d get anything more useful out of that line of questioning.
After struggling to lift her head, she glanced down at herself.
"...Could we at least change positions before we continue talking?"
Sarah’s whip was absurdly long.
It had bound Natasha’s wrists above her head before looping around her legs, leaving her stretched out in a painfully inflexible pose.
Embarrassing.
Highly embarrassing.
"No."
Sarah rejected the idea immediately.
"I like this arrangement."
She leaned close and gently breathed against Natasha’s ear.
"Besides..."
"I thought you liked exciting games."
A muffled sound escaped Natasha’s throat, equal parts irritation and discomfort.
Sarah’s slender tail had begun tracing lazy circles along her leg, its teasing movements impossible to ignore.
"Captain! We’re here!"
The S.H.I.E.L.D. strike team finally reached Captain America’s position.
"Fall back!"
"Give us a clear shot!"
Steve barely had time to answer.
"Forget about me!"
He braced his shield against another crushing swing from Tyler’s siege hammer.
"Keep him occupied!"
"No..."
He corrected himself with a grunt as the impact drove him another step backward.
"I’ll keep him occupied!"
"You get inside!"
Steve Rogers had fought countless powerful enemies.
But this...
This monster was unlike anything he’d faced before.
Even the Red Skull had never possessed this kind of overwhelming physical power.
"Legion Strike!"
Tyler roared.
His siege hammer slammed into Captain America’s shield.
BOOM!
The deafening impact exploded outward.
Steve held his ground, protected behind vibranium.
The nearby agents weren’t so fortunate.
Several staggered backward, clutching their ringing ears.
"...Right."
One operative muttered.
"This isn’t our fight."
Without another word, the strike team abandoned the duel and hurried toward the breach Tyler had smashed through the factory wall.
Every one of them silently hoped Tony Stark’s Anti-Warlock Bracelets actually worked.
Otherwise...
They’d already lost two of their strongest fighters before even reaching the final objective.
That was rarely a promising sign.
"Boss..."
A shrill voice suddenly echoed through the opening.
"...doesn’t like being disturbed."
Every rifle snapped toward the sound.
Nothing.
The agents exchanged uneasy looks.
Invisible?
That possibility was somehow even worse.
Then...
A tiny pair of hands grabbed the edge of the hole.
Someone struggled awkwardly into view.
It wasn’t an invisible assassin.
He’d simply been too short to see.
"What is that?"
One agent blinked.
The newcomer barely reached his knees.
Another couldn’t help himself.
"...A pathetic little dwarf?"
The creature’s eyes immediately flashed crimson.
"Pathetic?"
His sharp voice rose several octaves.
"No one..."
"No one calls the great Tripsy a pathetic dwarf!"
"And for the record..."
"I’m not a dwarf!"
He thrust one claw dramatically into the air.
"Hobbes!"
"Let’s deal with these idiots!"
A familiar husky came charging out from somewhere behind the factory.
Tripsy laughed.
"I thought you’d chickened out."
Hobbes snorted.
"Whoever chickens out is a damn dog."
He paused.
"...Wait."
The husky’s body suddenly swelled.
Dark scales erupted across his hide.
His frame expanded until he was the size of a calf.
The Hellhound’s true form stood revealed.
Then he shouted,
"Fusion!"
"I’ll form the lower half!"
"Hahaha!"
Tripsy burst into emerald fel fire as his own disguise dissolved.
The tiny imp leaped onto Hobbes’ back.
"I’ll form the upper half!"
Together they declared triumphantly,
"Combined Combat Form..."
"Imp-Riding Hellhound!"
Fortunately...
Evenson wasn’t there to witness it.
Otherwise he’d probably have banished both of them straight into the Twisting Nether out of sheer embarrassment.
"Eat fel fire!"
Hobbes charged wildly across the battlefield while Tripsy rode on his back, hurling a continuous stream of Firebolts.
Each blast wasn’t particularly powerful.
Only about as destructive as a hand grenade.
Unfortunately...
There were a lot of them.
The strike team scattered immediately.
They were elite operatives.
Panic wasn’t an option.
By spreading out, they prevented Tripsy from suppressing everyone at once.
"Hobbes barked,
"Dumen!"
"We need you!"
Once the agents dispersed, they naturally began returning fire.
Tripsy wasn’t worried.
With a quick Phase Shift, his body became translucent.
Bullets passed harmlessly through him while he continued launching Firebolts.
Hobbes, however, lacked that luxury.
He simply endured the rifle fire with his armored scales.
The rounds couldn’t seriously injure him...
But they certainly weren’t pleasant.
"I..."
A deep, echoing voice drifted from inside the factory.
"...come from the Void."
A broad blue figure floated through the breach.
It was Dumen, the Voidwalker.
His body, composed entirely of shadow, swelled dramatically.
The already bulky demon expanded from barely five feet tall into a towering giant over seven feet in height.
The instant he appeared...
Every S.H.I.E.L.D. agent experienced the same bizarre feeling.
It was as though this enormous blue creature owed them millions of dollars...
Had no intention of paying it back...
And had somehow also stolen their girlfriend.
Pure, irrational irritation flooded their minds.
Without hesitation, every rifle turned toward Dumen.
The Hellhound and the imp were forgotten.
A storm of bullets hammered into the Voidwalker.
Dumen didn’t even flinch.
"Time for our final form!"
Tripsy shouted excitedly.
Grabbing hold of Hobbes’ tentacle-like facial appendages, he urged the Hellhound forward.
Both demons plunged straight into Dumen’s shadowy body.
The Voidwalker enveloped them completely.
"Ultimate Combined Combat Form!"
"Susanoo!"
The result was absurdly effective.
Hobbes provided mobility.
Tripsy supplied ranged firepower.
Dumen served as an indestructible shield.
Together, they became a perfectly balanced combat unit.
Inside the factory...
Evenson stood silently beside Peggy Carter.
From time to time, her body twitched.
He knew exactly what was happening.
The soul of the Doomguard trapped within the transplanted heart was resisting.
Peggy’s spirit was battling it for control.
Only by defeating that demonic soul could she truly command the fel power contained within the heart.
Every Demon Hunter walked that path.
Evenson wasn’t worried.
This ritual wasn’t being performed by the Illidari.
No one hunted demons better than they did.
But when it came to weakening, suppressing, and controlling demons...
Warlocks had their own methods.
And this ritual had been designed by one.
Just then, Evenson looked up.
Without turning around, he spoke calmly.
"So..."
"You made it."
"Melinda."
A faint smile touched his lips.
"I’d expect nothing less from the Cavalry."
...
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