Sorcerer in the Marvel Universe

Some things simply had to be faced.

Running away forever solved nothing. Evenson had learned that lesson a long time ago. It was like being a Warlock in a dungeon: no matter how carefully you kept your head down, eventually someone was going to ask you to summon the damn portal or hand out the healthstones.

Using a demonic ritual circle he’d prepared beforehand, Evenson teleported back onto the airborne bus.

Melinda had clearly been waiting for him.

She gave him a strange look.

"Why were you gone so long?"

Evenson stepped out of the magic circle and answered casually, "You saw how large the spell’s affected area was. Cleaning up the aftermath was bound to take a while."

The last time he’d used magic on this scale, he’d merely buried a small church beneath lava.

That was nothing compared to what Alythess had done this time.

For reasons Evenson still couldn’t understand, the woman had gone completely overboard and flooded an area stretching nearly five miles with molten rock.

"Fair enough..."

Melinda nodded, but the suspicion in her eyes didn’t disappear.

"Then why did you come back looking furious after leaving your girlfriend down there?"

Evenson’s expression froze.

After a moment, he answered carefully.

"I’m a dark mage. She’s a white mage. We disagreed on certain philosophical matters, so I came back first."

He immediately changed the subject.

"Where is she? I have something important I need to explain to her."

"Her room."

Melinda stepped directly into his path.

"And that’s really everything that happened?"

"Of course."

Evenson emphasized the word.

Then he saw the absolute lack of belief in Melinda’s eyes.

"Fine."

He sighed.

"After everything was over, Mephisto showed up. He settled the previous transaction involving Coulson’s soul and wanted to discuss another deal."

Melinda’s expression didn’t change.

"The new deal is extremely sensitive, and I’m a responsible professional who follows proper procedures, so I decided I should report it before making any decisions."

Evenson spread his hands.

"That’s everything that happened down there. Happy?"

He figured that was more than enough.

Instead, Melinda barely reacted.

"As long as Mephisto settled the deal and returned Coulson’s soul, I don’t care what his next proposal was. That’s not something you need to report to me anyway."

Evenson’s eye twitched.

"Then what exactly do you want to know?"

A troubling thought surfaced.

Did Clea get angry enough to tell her about the twins?

Melinda suddenly became extremely serious.

"Evenson Richter. My next question is important. I expect an honest and complete answer."

Melinda’s usual permanent scowl was almost comforting.

This sudden solemnity was much worse.

"All right."

Evenson folded his arms and tried to look calm.

"Ask."

"When you were performing the ritual to remove the lingering effects of the spell..."

Melinda swallowed.

She looked almost nervous.

"Did you, by any chance, attempt to appease the spirits of nature by..."

She hesitated.

Her brow furrowed as though she desperately wished someone else would say the next words for her.

"By... wearing cat ears and a cat tail..."

Another pause.

"And performing a dance known as the Mighty Strut?"

Evenson stared at her.

Melinda’s face immediately returned to its usual icy expression.

"This is a very serious question. You only need to answer yes or no."

Evenson experienced several stages of spiritual collapse in rapid succession.

He stood there for a full minute, utterly speechless, before his brain finally restarted.

"Lady, have you suffered some kind of neurological event?"

He pointed at her in disbelief.

"Even as a joke, that’s completely insane!"

"Yes or no."

Melinda refused to budge.

But despite her stern expression, she unconsciously took a step backward.

Evenson’s refusal to answer immediately had made her even more uneasy. Instead of giving her a straight answer, he was trying to joke his way out of it.

"Of course not!"

Evenson nearly jumped off the floor.

"You don’t need to dance the Mighty Strut to appease nature spirits!"

He caught himself.

"Wait, no. I mean, I’m a Warlock! I’m not one of those Druids whose entire profession is making themselves adorable. Why would I be trying to impress nature spirits in the first place?"

Melinda visibly relaxed.

"Good."

Then she still looked uncertain.

"You’re absolutely sure?"

"Absolutely."

"Because your girlfriend told me that you do it regularly."

Evenson’s face went blank.

"She also said you planned to incorporate it into my future enhancement procedures."

That was the part Melinda had really been worried about.

The thought of Evenson suddenly putting on cat ears and performing some absurd dance during her next enhancement session was enough to qualify as an S-class psychological hazard.

She had even begun wondering whether Agent Peggy Carter’s strange condition after Evenson enhanced her might have been the result of suffering the same kind of mental contamination until she simply couldn’t take it anymore.

"Clea!"

Evenson’s teeth clenched.

You petty little monster.

That was one hell of a revenge tactic.

Still, beneath his irritation, Evenson was secretly relieved.

If Clea had resorted to this kind of childish prank, then their argument probably hadn’t become a genuine rupture.

They could still recover.

He just needed to swallow his pride, go talk to her, and smooth things over.

"All of that was completely fabricated," Evenson said firmly. "Don’t believe a single word she told you."

It took several assurances before Melinda finally let him pass.

As Evenson hurried toward Clea’s room, Melinda called after him.

"And tell your girlfriend to keep the volume down when she’s playing that shooting game. One of the more jumpy members of the strike team has already hit the deck twice while passing her door."

"Got it!"

Evenson didn’t even turn around.

She was playing video games.

That was a good sign.

At least she wasn’t ignoring the entire world.

Evenson reached Clea’s door and raised his hand to knock.

A grenade exploded on the other side.

Then came the unmistakable roar of machine-gun fire.

Evenson flinched so hard his hand snapped back.

Damn.

The speakers on this aircraft were ridiculously realistic.

S.H.I.E.L.D. really had money to burn.

If they could afford sound systems like this, they could afford to pay him a little more.

Evenson took a breath, composed himself, and knocked.

"Clea. It’s me. I’d like to talk."

The game went silent for a moment.

Then the gunfire started again.

The door remained firmly closed.

"Come on, sweetheart."

Evenson scratched his arm, trying not to cringe at how ridiculous he sounded.

"Don’t be like this. I really want to explain everything."

Nothing.

The door stayed shut.

Evenson clenched his teeth.

"Clea..."

No response.

He had one last weapon.

"Let’s get married."

Silence.

Then a tremendous crash erupted from inside the room.

Something fell.

Something else broke.

Then everything went quiet again.

The door remained closed.

Evenson stared at it.

Seriously?

What was he supposed to do?

Slip a gift card under the door as an apology?

He narrowed his eyes.

Fine.

She’d left him no choice.

Evenson took a breath and unleashed his ultimate weapon.

"Aoyama’s dead!"

Silence.

"The Detective Kid manga is finished forever!"

BANG!

The door shot open at near-supersonic speed.

Clea appeared halfway through the doorway, looking frantic.

"Who said that?! Who said it?!"

Her eyes were blazing.

"I’ve been reading that manga since I was old enough to understand it! You think the author can just die because he feels like it?! Does he think his life belongs to him?!"

She looked around wildly.

"Evenson! Where the hell did you go?!"

"Down here..."

The answer came from somewhere near her feet.

Clea slowly looked down.

Evenson was lying on the floor, blood streaming down his face as he weakly rolled onto his side.

He stared at the door.

Then at Clea.

Then back at the door.

What the hell is this thing made of?

Titanium?

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