Sorcerer in the Marvel Universe

The discomfort came in waves.

Evenson’s breathing grew increasingly strained, and the deeper he ventured into the temple, the worse it became.

The statues lining the halls had been carved with serene, benevolent expressions. Yet to Evenson, their faces seemed to carry an inexplicable coldness.

The monks in yellow robes were no better.

They moved through the temple in silence, their expressions blank and their eyes distant. Evenson couldn’t explain why, but simply being around them stirred an instinctive hostility within him.

It had to be connected to the supernatural power this sect wielded.

He could clearly sense that the mysterious energy permeating this temple was vastly stronger than what he’d encountered in the small church he’d buried beneath the ground in Eastern Europe.

More importantly, its nature was profoundly hostile to his own power.

Evenson glanced back at Rumlow and the others.

They all wore uncomfortable expressions. Nobody seemed particularly fond of the atmosphere, but they were otherwise fine.

Melinda was another matter entirely.

"Urgh..."

She’d already been walking unsteadily since entering the temple.

Now she suddenly gagged, caught herself against the wall, and nearly collapsed against it. Her breathing had become rapid, her face was pale, and she looked distinctly nauseous.

She looked like she wanted to throw up and crave pickles at the same time.

Whatever this place was doing, its effect on Melinda was far worse than its effect on Evenson.

She had undergone the initial stage of his Fel-based enhancement, but she still couldn’t fully control the power inside her. Unlike Evenson, she couldn’t suppress it or adjust its flow to lessen the effects of the temple’s energy.

Unfortunately, her condition attracted the attention of the monks.

Several turned to look.

Evenson immediately stepped forward and caught her before she could stumble.

"You’re not exactly new to field operations," he said loudly, deliberately putting on an annoyed expression. "And you’re still getting airsick? Seriously?"

Then he turned toward the monks and gave them an apologetic smile.

"Sorry. My partner gets motion sickness. Please don’t mind her."

The monks’ expressions didn’t change.

They simply turned away and continued walking, apparently accepting the explanation.

Once they were out of earshot, Melinda lowered her voice.

"What’s happening?"

"I’m not sure yet."

Evenson supported her as they continued forward.

"I think the atmosphere here is reacting badly to the kind of power we use."

"I don’t feel anything."

Claire approached without a trace of discomfort and quietly took Melinda from Evenson.

Of everyone in their group, she was the only one who seemed completely unaffected.

"All I feel is calm. I can’t even get angry here."

"You can’t get angry?"

Evenson rubbed his nose.

He was already so irritated he wanted to put his fist through a wall.

And then there was the fact that their former leader, the Ancient One, had apparently gone on a full-scale rampage in this very place years ago.

Wait.

Something clicked.

The Ancient One had always been open-minded and easygoing. Even when she was younger, and even if the people here had treated her disrespectfully, the reaction described by Claire and Moru had been far more extreme than he’d expected from her.

Could she have been affected by this place’s aura too?

And the Ancient One, like him, had relied on magic that wasn’t exactly wholesome.

The Dark Dimension.

Shadow magic.

Could this temple’s power be...

Before Evenson could finish the thought, a group of people approached from ahead.

The man leading them stepped forward and pulled back his hood.

His face was covered in tattoos resembling lines of scripture.

He gave Moru an unpleasant smile.

"Brother, you’ve finally brought the boy."

Moru immediately stepped forward and embraced him.

"Now we can finally stop that demon’s plan."

"Yes."

The leader answered confidently before turning his attention toward Evenson and the others.

"Who are they?"

"S.H.I.E.L.D."

Moru glanced back at Evenson’s group.

"They learned what happened through another source. They want to stop the demon as well."

The leader studied them.

"They don’t seem particularly fond of this place."

"Maybe they’re just spiritually unhealthy."

Moru shrugged.

"And... their leader apparently has dealt with Mephisto before."

The instant those words left his mouth, the monks’ attitude changed.

Every one of them turned hostile toward the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents.

They looked ready to charge into battle at the first command, screaming about their Lord and gladly throwing their lives away against these supposed servants of evil.

The leader’s eyebrow twitched.

Only once.

Then his expression hardened.

"Servants of the devil dare enter our Lord’s temple? You truly have some nerve."

"Huh?"

Evenson blinked.

He’d been lost in thought ever since the leader appeared. The sudden accusation finally dragged him back to the conversation.

After a moment, Evenson looked at the man.

He lowered his gaze and traced several symbols across his palm with one finger.

Then he smiled.

"So..."

He looked up.

"Is this Hell?"

"Of course not!"

The leader’s response was immediate and furious.

But his pupils contracted ever so slightly.

"Then this is Heaven?"

Evenson continued.

"Very close," the leader replied calmly. "But this place is not worthy of such glory."

"Right."

Evenson’s smile faded.

"This isn’t God’s Heaven. It isn’t Hell, either."

His expression hardened.

"This is the mortal world."

He took a step forward.

"So stop acting like you’re some divine servant standing above everyone else. We’re in the mortal world, which means we follow the rules of the mortal world, not whatever you claim your God wants."

Evenson deliberately avoided discussing his dealings with Mephisto.

Instead, he focused on something much simpler: S.H.I.E.L.D.’s authority to operate in the mortal world.

"In other words, I could take that plane outside, level this entire place, and tell the rest of the world that we were never here."

He smiled coldly.

"And according to the laws of the mortal world, I’d have the authority to do it. Completely legitimate."

"You aren’t afraid of divine wrath?!"

One of the monks beside the leader couldn’t restrain himself any longer.

"God?"

Evenson gave him a dismissive look.

"I know quite a few gods. Which one are you talking about?"

He almost laughed.

He’d shared drinks with Lady Sif, traded jokes with Thor, and personally toyed with Loki.

These people clearly hadn’t met enough gods to appreciate how little the title meant by itself.

"An interesting argument."

The tattooed leader merely smiled.

Rather than pursue the matter, he turned to the other monks and raised his voice.

"Brothers, we’re running out of time. Focus on what needs to be done. We can settle the rest later."

With that, he ordered several monks to take Danny away.

Once the others had left and Evenson was alone with his own people, he immediately returned to Melinda.

She was still visibly weak.

Evenson raised one hand.

A thread of magic gathered around his fingertip.

He drew several symbols across her back.

"Ahh..."

Melinda suddenly sucked in a deep breath.

Her body relaxed.

She pulled herself free of Claire’s support and stood upright. The pallor had already faded from her face, replaced by healthy color.

"I feel much better."

She looked at Evenson.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing much."

Evenson’s eyes narrowed.

A faint, knowing smile appeared on his face.

"I think I’ve figured out a few things about this place."

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