The modified transport aircraft pushed east at full throttle.
Impressive as it was, there were limits even to S.H.I.E.L.D.’s engineering. The aircraft was simply too large to sustain supersonic flight, leaving them with another three hours before they crossed into Eastern Europe.
Fortunately, the trip was anything but uncomfortable.
Nick Fury hadn’t exaggerated.
The aircraft contained private cabins, leather sofas, a fully stocked bar, conference rooms, and enough living space to rival a luxury apartment.
It really was a flying mansion.
The plane even had gaming consoles and entertainment systems.
Ordinarily, Claire would have disappeared into them within minutes.
Not today.
Magic had been part of her life for so long that it barely registered as extraordinary anymore.
Advanced technology, on the other hand...
That was still fascinating.
She wandered through the aircraft examining every unfamiliar device with childlike curiosity until she stopped in front of a two-meter-long operations table with a massive black display embedded in its surface.
"Evenson."
She waved him over.
"Come look at this. What is it?"
Evenson strolled over with both hands in his pockets, projecting the confidence of a man who absolutely knew what he was talking about.
Internally...
...he had no idea.
He stared at the table for several seconds.
Then nodded knowingly.
"Obviously..."
"...it’s a holographic interface."
"I’ve seen something similar at Tony Stark’s place."
"Tony Stark?"
Claire’s eyes sparkled.
"Iron Man?"
"That’s the one."
Evenson nodded.
"The guy who dresses like a red-and-gold lobster."
Claire grabbed his arm.
"Will you introduce me sometime?"
"I want his autograph."
"No prob... absolutely not."
The refusal came so abruptly that Claire blinked.
"Why?"
"We don’t exactly get along."
Evenson coughed awkwardly before adding,
"Besides..."
"I’m a superhero."
"My autograph should count for something."
Claire looked him up and down.
"You?"
She smiled wickedly.
"You completely shattered my image of what superheroes are supposed to be."
Then she poked him lightly in the side.
"And besides..."
"I’ve already signed my name on you."
Evenson wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
"True."
"You used your fingernails."
"And a knife."
Claire huffed.
"You deserved both."
There wasn’t any real anger behind it anymore.
At the time, they hadn’t been together.
She’d also been the one who left first.
Those old wounds had mostly healed.
"Anyway."
She turned back toward the operations table.
"If you know what it is..."
"...turn it on."
Evenson froze.
Right.
Minor problem.
How do you turn this thing on?
He thought for a moment.
Then confidently swept one hand through the air.
"Holographic interface..."
"...activate."
Nothing happened.
He forced out an awkward laugh.
"Maybe it didn’t hear me."
This time he flourished both hands dramatically.
"Holographic interface!"
"Activate!"
Silence.
A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead.
Tony said these things were idiot-proof...
Am I somehow losing to the interface?
He glanced sideways.
Claire was looking at him.
That expression...
Was she judging him?
She was definitely judging him.
Growing desperate, Evenson planted both hands on the table as if physical determination alone might intimidate the machine into working.
"Holographic interface..."
"...activate!"
Still nothing.
He was seconds away from channeling fel energy into the console just to see what happened.
"Do you think it’s an AI?" Claire asked thoughtfully.
"Probably?"
Evenson answered without much confidence.
Claire nodded.
"Then maybe..."
"...it needs an activation phrase with feeling."
She clasped her hands dramatically.
Closed her eyes.
And declared with heartfelt conviction,
"System..."
"...please activate!"
The performance would’ve fit perfectly in a giant robot anime.
The console remained stubbornly dark.
Evenson scratched his head.
"I swear I’m about to fix this with fel magic."
Click.
Both of them turned.
Melinda May stood beside the table with one hand resting beneath its edge.
She looked at them with an expression halfway between concern and disbelief.
"What exactly..."
"...have you two been doing?"
Claire’s face instantly turned crimson.
She spun around and pretended to study the wall.
Evenson, however, possessed a considerably thicker skin.
"We were practicing spell gestures."
He smiled hopefully.
"You believe that... right?"
Melinda slowly looked up at the ceiling.
It was somehow less painful than making eye contact.
Trying to escape the embarrassment, Evenson quickly changed the subject.
"Wait."
"If you’re here..."
"Who’s flying the plane?"
"One of the tactical agents is qualified."
May answered calmly.
Then her expression became serious.
"There’s something I’ve wanted to ask you."
"What is it?"
"Coulson."
She held his gaze.
"Why did his soul go to Hell?"
The question had haunted her ever since Fury’s negotiations with Nahash.
Only now had she found the chance to ask.
Evenson lowered his eyes.
"Fury didn’t ask."
"Which means he already had his suspicions."
"So do you."
"I want to hear your answer."
May didn’t back down.
Evenson sighed.
"Does it really surprise you?"
"You’ve experienced the Ghost Rider’s Penance Stare."
"You already know how judgment works."
"I deserved it."
May stepped closer.
"I’ve caused innocent people to die."
"Bahrain..."
She paused.
"I’ve made peace with the idea that Hell might be waiting for me."
"But Coulson..."
"He’s a good man."
"A good man?"
Evenson let out a quiet breath.
"He never intentionally harmed innocent people."
"He never wanted to."
"And he rarely did so directly."
He met her eyes.
"But indirectly?"
"Can you honestly say no one ever suffered because of the missions he carried out?"
May fell silent.
There were too many memories.
Espionage.
Theft.
Covert operations.
Extracting classified assets.
Completing the mission often meant disappearing without looking back.
But the guards left behind...
The people whose careers, freedom, or lives were destroyed because they had failed to stop S.H.I.E.L.D...
Their suffering didn’t simply vanish because the agents considered themselves the good guys.
"Hell judges differently than the living do."
Evenson’s voice was quiet now.
"Every debt."
"Every consequence."
"Every life touched."
"It all gets counted."
For a long moment, no one spoke.
Then Evenson gave a faint, melancholy smile.
"Honestly..."
"Getting sent to Hell isn’t the worst fate."
His eyes drifted toward the clouds outside the aircraft.
"The truly frightening thing..."
"...is when someone dies..."
"...and doesn’t even have the chance to go there."
Claire silently reached over and took his hand.
She understood exactly what he meant.
Some souls didn’t reach Heaven.
Some didn’t reach Hell.
They simply...
ceased to exist.
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