Sorcerer in the Marvel Universe

People liked to say that heaven saw everything.

Apparently, so did former subordinates.

After suffering such a humiliating incident, Agatha had gone straight to her former masters to air her grievances.

That wasn’t her only reason.

She and Evenson had spent the entire conversation speaking in half-finished sentences and implied meanings, but they both knew exactly what had been discussed.

As far as Agatha was concerned, something this important had to be reported to the Eredar Twins.

After all, if they truly reclaimed the Felscar Rift one day, supporting their return would count as a tremendous achievement.

No loyal subordinate wanted to miss out on earning that kind of credit.

Unfortunately...

While explaining everything else, she had casually mentioned one additional detail.

The part where Evenson accidentally tugged on her skirt.

Needless to say, Evenson had spent a considerable amount of time and effort talking his way out of that conversation.

Now, inside one of Umbrella’s private lounges, he sat shirtless on the edge of a bed, lit a cigarette, and let out a weary sigh.

"Since you already know everything..."

He took a slow drag.

"What do you think?"

"Personally, I think Agatha’s more eager than I am."

He had certainly intended to cultivate influence within the Felscar Rift.

But Agatha seemed positively enthusiastic.

He hadn’t needed to pry information out of her.

She’d practically volunteered it.

After the rustling of clothes being adjusted behind him, Saltheril answered.

"When you’ve spent tens of thousands of years serving an idiot..."

"...and suddenly see a chance to work under someone competent..."

She laughed softly.

"You’d probably be even more impatient than she is."

Evenson tilted his head.

"...Fair point."

An intelligent administrator trapped beneath a lumbering Pit Lord for millennia?

That sounded exhausting.

"But..."

He smiled.

"Is this really the right thing to do?"

"The Felscar Rift belongs to the Burning Legion."

"By every definition..."

"We’re plotting treason."

"Ah!"

Evenson suddenly leapt to his feet.

Something had stung his back.

He spun around.

Saltheril withdrew one finger, looking entirely unapologetic.

She had casually extinguished his cigarette by pressing it against his back.

"Hmph."

Still wrapped loosely in a blanket, she looked at him with amused disdain.

"You dishonest little warlock."

"Did you really think we were blind?"

"You honestly believed we couldn’t see what you were doing?"

She walked over, lifted his chin with one elegant finger, and met his eyes.

"Or..."

She smiled knowingly.

"Did you fail to understand where we stand?"

"If that were true..."

"You’d hardly deserve our admiration."

Evenson gently moved her hand aside.

"You’ll have to forgive me."

He rubbed the back of his neck.

"The world’s a dangerous place."

"I’ve learned not to trust too easily."

The last layer of pretense had finally disappeared.

There was no reason to keep dancing around the subject anymore.

"So I’ll say it plainly."

"Everything I’ve done..."

"I’ve done for myself."

He looked from one Twin to the other.

"I’d rather hold my own fate in my own hands than leave it to anyone else."

Saltheril’s expression softened.

"For ourselves..."

She murmured almost wistfully.

"The day the eredar accepted fel magic..."

"...we surrendered that privilege."

Alythess’s voice carried unmistakable bitterness.

"Sargeras showed us his vision."

"We sacrificed our world."

"And only afterward did we realize..."

"...we’d never truly lived for ourselves."

"In the Legion..."

"We were weapons."

"Pieces on someone else’s game board."

Saltheril continued quietly.

"Even under mortal warlocks..."

"We remained tools."

Then both sisters smiled.

"But this world..."

"...changed everything."

"No one controls us anymore."

"We can finally live according to our own will."

"The world feels..."

"So wonderfully real."

"And freedom..."

"So intoxicating."

The Twins spoke together.

"You’re right, Evenson."

"This world..."

"We’ll protect it."

"And we’ll keep it in our own hands."

"No one..."

"...will ever take it away from us."

Evenson simply stared.

Every argument he’d prepared died before it reached his lips.

He hadn’t expected this.

Not even remotely.

Somewhere, on Azeroth...

The armies fighting the Burning Legion might have appreciated hearing this conversation.

If only they knew.

The Legion wasn’t being defeated by swords or spells.

It was collapsing under the irresistible force of paid vacation, personal freedom, and a decent quality of life.

Saltheril casually tossed him a brown paper package.

"Want some?"

"Fresh shipment."

"It came from General Guler."

She sounded rather proud.

"Premium quality."

"You can’t buy this on the open market."

"I went all the way to South America myself."

Evenson’s eyebrow twitched.

General Guler.

The infamous three-eyed drug lord.

South America’s largest cocaine supplier.

He carefully set the package back on the table.

"No thanks."

"I’d like to keep living."

Then he added with complete sincerity,

"Drugs ruin lives."

Even demons weren’t immune.

If anything, the Twins were living proof that addiction could produce spectacularly questionable life choices.

"Enough of that."

After satisfying themselves with whatever entertainment they’d found, the Twins led Evenson to the deepest level of the underground complex.

Purple summoning light filled the chamber.

Gnosis appeared inside the ritual circle.

A power drill was mounted to one arm.

A circular saw to the other.

Across his back hung an enormous bundle.

Apparently, he’d brought all his worldly possessions.

Clunk.

Something the size of a bowling ball rolled out of the poorly tied pack.

The instant they saw it...

The Twins retreated more than sixty feet.

Without asking questions, Evenson sprinted after them.

"What is that?"

Saltheril’s face had darkened considerably.

"A Fel Pulse Bomb."

"One of that old lunatic’s favorite inventions."

Evenson’s expression turned green.

He immediately erected a Void Barrier.

"Gnosis!"

He pointed frantically toward the bundle.

"Set those down."

"Very..."

"Very carefully."

Good grief.

He brought an entire sack of bombs.

What exactly was the plan?

Shout ’For the Legion!’ and blow up the building?

Gnosis blinked in confusion.

Still, he obediently lowered the bundle onto the floor.

Dying heroically had never crossed his mind.

If he possessed that level of conviction, he’d have tried taking Harmondas with him years ago instead of quietly enduring exile.

The misunderstanding came from Evenson himself.

Warlocks summoned demons for combat.

Everyone knew that.

Who in their right mind summoned a demon scientist to conduct research?

Naturally, Gnosis had assumed he’d be expected to fight.

Since he wasn’t especially powerful in direct combat, he’d compensated by bringing every explosive device he owned.

Once the bombs were safely on the floor, Evenson leaned toward the Twins.

"Keep a close eye on him."

"I’d rather he didn’t accidentally demolish the headquarters."

Alythess nodded.

"Don’t worry."

Then she looked toward the bewildered scientist.

"Gnosis."

"Do you recognize us?"

He glanced at the Twins.

At first, only confusion showed on his face.

Then recognition dawned.

Then utter disbelief.

The old demon let out a heart-rending wail and charged forward.

Five or six meters away, he dropped flat onto his knees and kowtowed so hard the floor shook.

"My Ladies!"

"My Ladies!"

"I’ve waited for this day for ages!"

"The Felscar Rift has fallen into misery!"

"Harmondas rules through incompetence and tyranny!"

"I beg you..."

"Return and reclaim your rightful place!"

"If you refuse..."

"I’ll kneel here until I die!"

...

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