Stephen shrouded the room in a blanket of mist, and Janet became one with the shadows. Reappearing behind Lockdown, she kicked him over the railing. He hit the floor below with a dull clang that could scarcely be heard above the screams and the running footsteps of those who were frantically fleeing. Walking out of the fog, Stephen cast crimson bands from his fingers that wrapped themselves around Lockdown where he lay. And no matter how much he struggled, there was nothing he could do to break his bindings.
Janet swung down from the balcony and landed as lightly as if she had only dropped a few feet. "Did you get Stone?" she asked breathlessly.
"Yeah," Stephen nodded. "Let's go—"
"Don't move!"
Armored figures emerged from the cloud enveloping them. Some carried blasters, others gripping stun staffs in their gloved hands.
"Who are they?" Stephen muttered irritably.
She shrugged. "Private security?"
"You're outnumbered!" the officer warned again.
"Funny," Janet answered dryly. "I only see ten of you."
Confusion passed over their faces, and that brief delay was all she and Stephen needed to gain the advantage. Making quick circular movements with his hands, he then cast them out and scattered the soldiers with a powerful gust of wind. While they were down and disoriented and the mist was swirling like an angry tempest, she moved amongst them as swiftly and silently as a ghost, incapacitating them one by one. It was easy when all she had to do was follow the rapid thumps of their panicked heartbeats.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five—
Janet cried out as fiery pain suddenly flared in the center of her back. Her limbs spasmed, and she collapsed. Lying on the floor, she helplessly stared at her twitching fingers as Stephen moved to disarm the man who had struck her with his staff. The guard swung sharply downward at a diagonal angle, but Stephen dodged and caught the shaft with his black-gloved hands. Thrusting the staff back into the officer's chin, he then ripped it from his opponent's grasp and jabbed him with one of the weapon's dangerous tips. Sparks flew, electricity crackling over the man's body as Stephen sent him sprawling.
Rolling onto her back, Janet saw another soldier charging toward her. Though her body remained incapable of rising, her mind could still summon dark powers to aid her. A black pillar jutted out of the ground and crushed the man against the ceiling, then released him as it sank back into oblivion.
Glancing to her left, she saw Stephen dispatch two more guards by flinging bolts of energy from his fingertips. As they fell, he turned to face her once more. But when his eyes focused on something behind her, he made a frantic throwing motion with his right arm. A telekinetic force lifted the fallen staff from the floor and hurled it into the chest of the officer running up behind her. The impact reversed his momentum, and he landed hard on his back.
Janet stared at his convulsing form as the magnetic staff remained fixed to his metallic breastplate.
"Are you all right?"
Stephen had approached and was offering her his hand. Her limbs still felt numb and tingly all at once, but she thought she could stand now. Accepting his aid, Janet winced as he pulled her to her feet.
"I'm fine," she managed. "Do you think that's the last of them?"
"For now."
"You should go get Cassie," she suggested, "before their friends show up. I'll stay here and make sure they stay down."
"Okay," he agreed hesitantly, "but remember what we—"
"I'm not the one electrocuting people with stun staffs," Janet interrupted, already knowing what he was about to say.
"Let's call it an unfortunate but necessary precaution," he replied with a facade of solemn duty. But she caught the flicker of amusement in his eyes.
"You can use all the fancy words you like, Stephen. But never forget—I know you. Better than anyone."
"And I can assure you, Clea, that I have no idea what you're implying."
"Call me Clea again, and it'll be the last word you ever speak."
He shrugged. "Well, I can think of worse ways to go."
"Go on," she said, turning away to conceal the smile that was sneaking onto her lips. "Get out of here—before I lose my temper."
As the sound of his retreating footsteps reached her ears, Janet fixed her eyes on their fallen foes. Just a few more minutes. Just a few more minutes, and they would leave this wretched place behind for good.
**********
After everyone else had gone through, Janet entered the swirling gateway she had opened. Leaving the flashing lights and marble floors far behind her, she found herself standing in a familiar place. An old, dark warehouse that she was pleased to see was just as abandoned as when she had left it.
"What should I do with him?" asked Wanda, gripping the back of their unconscious prisoner's robe.
"Throw him back there," Janet replied, indicating the storage room to their right. "I have a few questions for him."
As Maximoff dragged the man away, Stephen carefully lowered Cassie onto the floor and leaned her back against the concrete wall. Her eyes were fluttering, and she moaned miserably, pressing her hands to the sides of her head.
He straightened and took a breath, watching her with obvious concern. "I don't think you should interrogate him alone."
"Stephen, I told you that I wasn't going to kill anyone," Janet insisted, removing her mask. "I need you to trust me."
As he sighed and slid off his own disguise, she searched his conflicted gaze.
"I want to," he said earnestly, "but—"
"Stephen."
They turned at the sound of Wanda's voice as she reentered the room.
"You were right," she announced, crossing her arms over her chest. "The Twisted Sisters did sell the Eye of Agamotto to the Amon family. But he doesn't have it anymore. He gave it to someone else."
"Who?" Stephen questioned, his brow furrowing.
"Someone called Blastaar."
Janet's breath caught, and she exchanged a glance with Stephen.
"Did he say anything else?" he prodded.
Wanda shook her head. "No. After that, you ran in and told us it was time to go."
"I'll find out if he knows Blastaar's location," Janet declared, heading for the storage room.
"Wait."
Stephen caught her arm, and she looked back at him.
"I'm coming with you."
"No," she answered firmly. "Cassie needs your help. I can handle this alone."
"I'll go with her, Stephen," Wanda offered.
"Thanks," Janet responded flatly, "but I don't need a kid to babysit me."
Anger flared in Maximoff's eyes, and Janet turned her back on them. As she walked away, she heard the girl hiss to Stephen: "Why didn't you stop her?"
Using a weakly flickering panel to gain access, Janet entered the storage room, and the door closed behind her. There was only darkness within—just the way she wanted it. Coldly observing their captive, who slouched against the far wall, she strode forward and delivered a sharp kick to his ribs.
"Wake up," she snarled. "It's time for a chat."
He came to with a startled cry, clutching his wounded side and staring into the blackness with wide eyes. "W-who are you? Where have you taken me?"
"I'm asking the questions here. Speak out of turn again, and you'll wish you hadn't."
"P-please don't hurt me," he implored. "I don't know anything!"
"Come now—we both know that's not true. You recently purchased a very valuable relic from the Twisted Sisters, which you then delivered to Blastaar. Tell me why you gave it to him."
"I just—I just needed the money. Blastaar was willing to pay."
"I see," Janet nodded skeptically. "You, a member of one of the richest families in Shadow City, were in desperate need of some additional funds. But somehow, you managed to pay the Twisted Sisters what I imagine was quite a hefty sum for the artifact—one you claim to know nothing about. So tell me, why were you willing to take such a risk?"
"I-I sold it for more," he stammered, sweat beading on his brow. "It was worth the—"
She thrust out a hand, using her powers to fling him across the room. Whimpering, he crawled into the farthest corner and hugged his knees to his chest.
"How about we skip the part where you lie to me? I don't have time for games. Tell me everything you know—now! Where is Blastaar? Why did he want the relic?"
"I c-can't," he sniveled, rocking back in forth. "He'll—he'll kill me."
"Who?" she demanded. "Blastaar?"
"No," he moaned pitifully. "No, not him…"
Janet's chest heaved, her heart clenching and her insides twisting in torturous knots as her worst fears were realized. She stormed toward him.
"Then who? Answer me!"
He cowered lower in complete terror and refused to speak another word. The sting of her brother's betrayal was more than enough to send power surging through her veins, her pain and rage fueling her strength as she lifted her prisoner from the ground and held him against the wall with an invisible grip. Then Janet stepped very close to him, his feet helplessly flailing above the floor.
"I will get the truth out of you," she threatened. "One way…or another."
Shoving the palm of her hand against his forehead, she broke down the barriers of his mind and invaded his thoughts—his memories.
**********
An ivory tower rose out of the darkness, and she saw him running toward it. Janet pursued him, voices echoing all around her. They whispered, laughed, cried. There was joy, pain, and sorrow—all connected by a single thread. A unit bound by blood.
Family, she realized.
He burst through the doors, and they closed in his wake. But they were incapable of withstanding the telekinetic blast she sent their way.
"Bring me the Eye of Agamotto, and you will be rewarded."
Blastaar.
Amon retreated into an elevator, frantically pressing the button that would shut the doors. Janet lunged to catch them, but she was too late. Slamming her fist against them with a growl of frustration, she slipped her fingers into the crevice and began to pull them apart. Her muscles strained, her teeth clenched with stubborn determination. Finally, she created a wide enough gap for her to squeeze through, and Janet peered into the shaft.
High above her, she saw the elevator rapidly rising. Eyes narrowing, she launched herself into the air and ascended with shadowy wings. Complete darkness engulfed her, Janet's arms pressed to her sides as a trail of tenebrous energy was left in her wake. Soaring skyward, her gaze remained fixed on one thing—a circle of light that glowed on the underside of the elevator.
Amon would not escape her. Blastaar would not escape her. Not this time.
Metallic groans and screeches reverberated down the shaft—the sounds of the elevator grinding to a halt. Reducing her molecular density, Janet phased through the floor of it as easily as a ghost and then ceased her upward momentum. Her feet met solid ground once more, and she discovered that Amon had already fled the elevator. Its doors stood open, a black marble corridor just beyond them. Advancing, she cautiously glanced from left to right, counting the doors that lined both sides of the hall.
Which one had he gone through?
Janet stopped and closed her eyes. Reaching out with her senses, she listened to the silence. He couldn't hide from her—not when she could feel the vibration of every person's pulse. The thump of their heart. The essence of their soul.
"This tower will serve my purposes now," said Blastaar's disembodied voice.
"Wait," Amon ventured with some hesitation, "that was never our agreement. Perhaps…alternative arrangements—"
"Would you like to live, Hemed?"
A pause.
"Yes," he answered at last.
"Then do not question me again, or you will answer to the one who holds the Book of Sins."
Janet's eyes opened again, and she moved with newfound purpose. Amon's fear radiated like a beacon. Following it to the end of the corridor, she tried to turn the knob of the door on the right but found it locked. One blast of umbrakinetic energy from her extended fingertips was all it took to decimate the last obstacle that stood between hunter and prey.
"Get out of my head!"
Hemed's desperate cry rang out as Janet crossed the threshold.
"I-If I give you what you seek, he'll kill me! He'll kill my wife—my children!"
"Blastaar is using Amon Tower as his new base, isn't he?" she said. "You don't have to tell me. Your thoughts have already betrayed you."
"Please, let me go!" he begged. "Don't ask me about h-him. Let me go to my family, and we will leave the tower. You can do whatever you want to Blastaar. Just—"
He croaked, his hands suddenly flying to his heart as he gasped and spluttered. He collapsed onto his knees, his eyes bulging and silently pleading for mercy.
A man stood behind him, silhouetted against the neon lights of Shadow City.
Her breath caught, her blood chilling in an instant. Janet watched, appalled, as her brother crushed the life out of Amon without lifting a finger.
"No loose ends," Jack said simply, his victim hitting the floor with a dull thud. "It's bad for business."
And the last thing she saw before the mindscape collapsed was his cold, wicked smile.
**********
Janet staggered backwards and then fell, her palms scraping concrete. Hemed's corpse stared back at her, his petrified eyes revealing the grim nature of his demise.
"What have you done?"
Flinching, she looked and saw Stephen and Wanda standing in the open doorway. The girl's exclamation was one of shock and indignation, but he appeared to be at a loss for words.
"I-I didn't do this," Janet stammered, still reeling.
"Is this it?" Wanda demanded of Stephen. "Is this what you needed to see to believe that she's not who you think she is?"
"I didn't do this!" Janet repeated urgently, scrambling to her feet.
Wanda thrust out a hand. "Don't move," she warned.
He looked at her in alarm. "What are you doing?"
"She's a murderer, Stephen! We can't just allow her to walk free."
"What's going on back there?" Cassie called anxiously from the other room.
"She is dealing with powers and entities that—"
"She just executed an unarmed prisoner," Maximoff interrupted, her eyes blazing. "She's assassinated countless targets, tortured innocent captives, and she almost killed you!"
"People can change, Wanda. You should know that better than anyone."
Her eyes narrowed, her disappointment apparent as she shook her head. "You are blinded by your feelings for her."
"If you want to leave, then go," he retorted, gesturing toward the door. "No one is forcing you to stay."
"As an Avenger, it's my job to bring criminals to justice—especially those who have committed crimes against the people of Earth. She is too powerful to ignore. If her actions continue to go unchecked and unpunished, I fear that she will bring disaster for us all."
Suddenly, Cassie appeared in the doorway, her brow creased with confusion. But when she saw Amon's lifeless body slumped against the wall, she gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in horror.
"I'm well aware of her crimes," Stephen said, stepping between them and Janet, "but I will not condemn her for this man's murder before I listen to what she has to say."
"She was the only other person in the room," Wanda maintained.
"Do we know that?" he replied. "Beware of jumping to conclusions. Rarely is it wise."
Like Maximoff, Cassie seemed to be unconvinced. But before either of them could protest further, he turned and grasped Janet's arm.
"Come with me."
He led her from the room, guiding her back through the main area and into a second storage room on the other side of the warehouse. As he released her and then pressed a button to close the door behind them, she stood with her gaze fixed on the floor, fighting back tears.
"Tell me that I just defended you with good reason," Stephen said, facing her with entreating eyes.
"H-he was there. Jack. There was nothing I could do. He just—" Janet stopped and swallowed hard.
"What happened?" he asked quietly.
"Amon wouldn't talk, so I—I went into his mind to find the truth myself. And it worked. I learned Blastaar's location, but Amon was terrified of Jack. He begged me to let him go. He told me that if he said anything about Jack, he would kill him and his family. I was going to release him—I swear I was. But then Jack… He was there, and he—" She choked on the lump in her throat, her tears finally spilling over. "He crushed his heart. Like it meant nothing to him."
She sucked in a shallow breath, the pressure building inside her until she felt like she was going to explode. "My brother. My little brother…"
"Come here," Stephen said, taking her into his arms.
Burying her face in his chest, Janet clung to him like her life depended on it. Everything was falling apart. Everyone she'd ever loved had abandoned her—everyone except him. He was all she had left in this sad, broken world.
As Janet sobbed, clutching the soft fabric of his robe between her fingers, Stephen silently stroked her hair and held her close. But there was something else—surrounding her, wrapping around her like a blanket. And without needing to open her eyes, she knew that it was the Cloak of Levitation.