Sorcerer in the Marvel Universe

"Damn it!"

Evenson’s fist crashed into the monitor, shattering the display.

He had been wrong.

From the beginning, he’d convinced himself that whatever was happening to Coulson had to be a side effect of the Kree blood.

But now...

Now he knew better.

Nick Fury frowned.

"You’ve figured it out?"

He was surprised by Evenson’s outburst. The warlock was rarely this emotional.

Evenson clenched his jaw.

"With signs this obvious?"

"How could I not?"

At last, Fury understood why Evenson had repeatedly insisted the Kree corpse wasn’t responsible.

Evenson had assumed Fury was simply refusing to accept that his resurrection project had gone wrong.

But Coulson’s eyes...

There wasn’t a trace of white left.

They were completely black.

The primary monitor lay in pieces on the floor, but the remaining screens continued displaying the surveillance feed.

On one of them, Coulson stared directly into the camera.

Then...

He smiled.

It was a slow, unnatural smile that didn’t belong on Phil Coulson’s face.

Doctor Streten immediately reached for his clipboard.

"That’s the first facial expression he’s shown since the resurrection."

His voice trembled with excitement.

"Until now, he’s behaved like a statue."

Evenson’s expression darkened further.

Of course.

That’s why.

He had entrusted Coulson with a Soulstone.

He’d blamed himself when it failed to save him, assuming he’d made some mistake.

But he hadn’t.

Someone had simply reached Coulson’s soul first.

A vicious smile spread across Evenson’s face.

"Those bastards from Hell..."

"...stole it."

"Hell?"

Doctor Streten blinked.

"The body has been possessed."

Claire’s expression was equally grim.

"The devils of Hell are notoriously greedy."

"If you bring a dead person back to life, you’re taking a soul away from them."

"They were never going to ignore that."

"Devils?"

The doctor looked utterly lost.

"That’s impossible."

"It’s merely science you haven’t learned yet."

Evenson’s patience had evaporated.

He wasn’t interested in explaining metaphysics to a physician.

He turned toward Fury.

"Take me to him."

Claire raised a hand.

"Wait."

She kept her eyes fixed on the screen.

"Demons from Hell aren’t simple opponents."

As she spoke, the image changed.

Coulson suddenly pressed himself flat against the wall.

Then...

He crawled upward.

Without regard for gravity.

He moved across the ceiling until his face filled the camera.

His jaw opened impossibly wide.

The feed went black.

Claire covered her mouth.

"...That was unpleasant."

Judging from the final frame...

Coulson had bitten the surveillance camera clean off the wall.

She lowered her hand and looked at Evenson.

"The demon is inside your friend."

"If you attack recklessly..."

"...you may hurt him before you reach it."

Melinda and the others turned toward Evenson with obvious concern.

Evenson merely snorted.

"I’ll pull it out."

"That’s the easy part."

Purple fel energy gathered around his hand.

"The difficult part..."

"...is deciding how slowly I want to burn it to ashes."

A scream echoed through the corridor.

Then another.

Two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents wearing tactical gear were hurled through the doorway, slammed into the wall, and collapsed unconscious.

The hallway lights flickered violently.

Evenson’s eyes narrowed.

"Looks like it came to us."

He stepped forward.

Golden light flared in Claire’s hands as she conjured two broad-bladed magical sabers.

Fury drew his pistol.

Melinda reached beside her, tore an aluminum door completely off its hinges, and gripped it like an enormous shield.

Emerald runes spread across its surface.

Her new power was already activating.

A voice rang down the corridor.

"Mephisto..."

"...is very displeased with you."

Phil Coulson slowly stepped around the corner.

He still wore a white hospital gown.

Standing with unsettling elegance, he calmly picked shards of glass from his mouth before smiling at the group.

"It’s time to settle your debt..."

"...Evenson Richter."

The name alone froze the room.

Mephisto.

One of Hell’s Seven Lords.

A devil whose notoriety rivaled Satan himself.

Whoever possessed Coulson clearly knew that name carried weight.

No one rushed forward.

Evenson stepped out ahead of the others.

"My understanding..."

"...is that my business with Mephisto ended quite some time ago."

Coulson laughed.

The sound was wrong.

Every flickering light cast grotesque shadows across his face.

"Ended?"

"What about the Contract of San Venganza?"

Evenson paused.

Did Mephisto discover I kept the contract?

Carefully, he tested the waters.

"Our agreement was simple."

"I dealt with Blackheart."

"I never promised to return the contract."

"Besides..."

"It’s no longer in my possession."

"I gave it to Thor."

"If Mephisto wants it back..."

"He’s asking the wrong person."

"But it disappeared while it was under your protection."

Coulson answered immediately.

That single response told Evenson everything.

Good.

Mephisto still doesn’t know I have it.

Evenson ignored the accusation.

His voice became cold.

"Enough."

"Tell me who you are."

"Or..."

Purple energy intensified around his fingers.

"I’ll drag you out myself."

Coulson merely chuckled.

Then his body convulsed.

A hideous retching sound echoed through the hallway.

He dropped to all fours.

Countless venomous snakes poured from his mouth.

Evenson’s eyes narrowed.

Fel flames erupted around him in preparation.

Claire took one look and instinctively jumped backward.

"Formation of a Thousand Serpents..."

She blurted out in alarm.

"...Orochimaru!"

Fury and Melinda had no idea what she meant.

Still...

They quietly committed the strange name to memory.

Perhaps it was the demon’s true identity.

The snakes ignored everyone.

Instead, they slithered together, weaving into a writhing humanoid shape.

The mass gradually stabilized.

Moments later, a man stood before them.

Middle-aged.

Immaculately tailored black suit.

Crimson tie.

Mirror-polished leather shoes.

Perfectly combed hair.

He looked less like a monster...

...and more like the CEO of a multinational corporation.

The man smiled with quiet arrogance.

"They once called me..."

"Nahash."

"The Deceiver."

"Today..."

"I am known as Vincent."

"Every temptation that walks the mortal world..."

"...comes from me."

Claire’s face immediately lost its color.

"The Serpent of Eden..."

She had recognized him.

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