The door clanged shut, the sound reverberating through the high-ceilinged room that lay beyond. Machines clicked and hummed, researchers in white lab coats proceeding calmly and rhythmically through each stage of their experiments. As Janet entered the room, her eyes swept over them, ensuring the exactness of their operations. Everything was, of course, to be conducted according to her specifications.
"Miss Carlisle!" a man with round-rimmed glasses exclaimed in surprise as he caught sight of her.
"Jenkins," she responded with a curt nod. "What have you learned?"
The scientist wrung his hands as his head swiveled in the direction of the translucent crystals that rested on a pedestal on the other side of the glass. "They are…extraordinary. None of us have dared to touch them, of course, but the knowledge we have gained from external studies alone has taught us so much about their chemistry and how the Kree used them to genetically modify other organisms."
"Have you compiled your notes?" she inquired, stepping forward so as to observe the alien objects more closely.
"Not yet," he replied with some anxiety, "but we are in the process of organizing them at this very moment. You will be able to peruse them at your leisure by this time tomorrow."
"Good." Janet crossed her arms, admiring how the light gleamed off of the crystals' flawless sides.
"Would you…like to have a closer look at them?" he offered tentatively.
Raising an eyebrow, she cast him a sidelong glance.
"Some of us have dared to venture to the other side of the glass," Jenkins explained. "We've handled them with gloves and have encountered no difficulties, no unpleasant side effects."
Her interest was piqued, curiosity compelling her to accept. For weeks, she had been circling them, impatiently awaiting the results of each test. The Terrigen Crystals could change everything. They were the key to unlocking the next stage of human development. Of that, she was certain. If the mutations to human genes could be controlled…
"Miss Carlisle?"
Startled from her thoughts, she looked at the scientist, who was watching her with a hint of concern. Slowly, Janet lowered her arms to her sides. "Open the door."
"Right away," he nodded, springing into action.
The team of technicians stepped back from their work and laid down their tools as Jenkins moved to a nearby console and began pressing keys in rapid succession. There was a loud click, and the door on her left hissed as it retracted into the wall. She took a deep breath, anticipation building inside her. This was the moment she had been waiting for.
Advancing through the opening with measured strides, Janet became aware of the fact that the room had fallen utterly silent. Each step she made bounced off the metallic walls, every pair of eyes fixed upon her. Unconsciously, she flexed her gloved hands, her white coat swishing about her legs as she moved toward the centrally located pedestal.
She could almost…hear them. The crystals were thrumming with an energy signature that was entirely foreign. They were, after all, not of this world. Despite all that she had learned of them in recent weeks, however, Janet was surprised by how…alive they felt. Each one was unique, having a voice of its own. Like a series of musical notes, they sang together in perfect harmony.
She found herself reaching out, fingers extended, yearning, almost close enough to touch—
Hiss.
Whirling around, Janet saw the door close behind her, heard its distinctive click as it sealed. Her breath caught, her chest tightening. She ran to the glass.
"What are you doing?" she demanded furiously.
Her subordinates stared back at her, some faces wracked with guilt, others twisted with sick satisfaction. They could not hear her—the glass was soundproof—and Jenkins ignored her completely. He was still pressing keys.
While her back was turned, the pedestal descended through an opening in the floor, which swiftly closed as soon as the crystals vanished. Janet spun to see them entirely gone, and she turned back to the glass, pounding her fist against it.
"Open these doors immediately, or I swear that all of you will be leaving this tower in handcuffs! This is your last chance! Open them now!"
Her threats fell upon deaf ears, and as Jenkins' index finger lingered upon the last key, he glanced up and met her eyes. His lips curled into a wicked sneer, and her face fell. There was a strange hiss somewhere beneath her. She stepped back, eyes frantically searching the floor, but she saw nothing.
Slowly, silently, tendrils of smoke began to emerge from the vents. Curling upwards, they snaked around her ankles. A strange gray mist engulfed her, its coolness seeping into her skin. Janet gasped for air, heart pounding against her chest, so loud that it throbbed inside her ears.
"No," she moaned, realizing what was happening. "No!"
She ran to the glass once more, striking it with her fists until they were bruised and swelling.
"You don't know what they will do! You don't know! Please! I don't want to die! Please!"
Her voice was hoarse and strangled, tears streaming down her face as she felt it coming—the transformation. It started with a prickling sensation at the tips of her fingers. She pushed back against it, the effort causing her to double over in pain.
"No…I won't. I…"
She screamed, collapsing as a searing fire began to coarse through every fiber of her being. Still, she fought, refusing to let it change her, refusing to become one of them. If she could not control it, then she wanted no part of it.
"Jack!" she shrieked. "Norman!"
Her cries for help went unanswered, and an unearthly cocoon began to take shape, binding her, suffocating her. She was buried alive. She could see nothing but darkness, an infinite void, and she began to wonder if she was dead. The sound of her own screams died away, and she was left with nothing but silence. Paralyzed, she was unable to fight physically any longer, and fear was choking her.
So many times, she had felt afraid. So many times, she had felt alone. For so long, she had no one to turn to. But then, when life was at its worst, when she could no longer trust even her own family, he had shown up. He was there for her, always, until he was not.
"Stephen…"
A strangled sob escaped her throat. She was curled in a ball on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest. Lying there in the dark, alone, for what seemed like an eternity, her heart hardened. Even when she thought she was staving off the otherworldly powers that threatened to overtake her, her spirit was corrupted. In that moment, more clearly than ever before, she understood that there was no one who could save her but herself. She would fight, as long and as fiercely as necessary, to rid herself of this infection, this disease, that sought to subvert everything that made her human.
Armored from head to toe in Oscorp's finest, Janet looked down at her hands as she pulled on gloves that stretched the length of her forearms. Her AR helmet had been repaired and improved, the damages dealt to her battlesuit by the Ghost Rider no longer visible. A black hood shrouded her already masked face in even greater shadow, mirroring the black emptiness she felt as she prepared to face the only man she had ever loved in potentially lethal combat.
Every time she was given an assignment, every time she was authorized to kill, the memory of her transformation became glaringly prominent in her mind's eye. For years, she had hated the powers that were bestowed upon her without her consent. She had resented them, hated them, even after she had slain the men and women who had committed this vile crime against her. Vengeance had not healed the wound. Instead, it had done nothing but render it larger and more inescapable than before. Now that she had been forced to come face to face with this inevitability, Janet had decided to embrace it.
Why shouldn't she, after all, when she now had the ability to dispose of anyone who stood in her way, in Oscorp's way, in Norman's way? Shame would not get her anywhere, but power would. And after tonight, the Darkhold, the very embodiment of power, would be in her grasp.
A week had passed since she had last set foot in the Sanctum, since she had shown inexcusable weakness in allowing Strange to keep the girl. What madness had overtaken her, that she had agreed to such a thing? Yes, it had rendered him in her debt, but to what end? Was it truly worth giving up the alternative?
Grimacing, she reminded herself to focus. Now was not the time to be questioning herself. It was done. There was no changing it now.
If all went as planned, she would be in and out of the Sanctum before Strange or his apprentice even knew she was there. But Janet was fully aware of the fact that things rarely went according to plan. She intended to avoid killing her former lover if at all possible, though Norman had given her permission to if she was provided with no other alternative. The girl, however—she was expendable.
Refusing to dwell on the matter that she was reluctant to do away with Strange despite the fact that he was supposed to be no more than a means to an end, Janet reached out with one hand and moved it rapidly in a circular motion. Dark energy swirled out of thin air, purple sparks flying as a portal formed—a new trick she had learned by observing Strange. Beyond, she could see rows upon rows of tall bookcases, just as she had envisioned.
Lowering her hand, Janet took a deep breath, steeling herself. If she was caught, removing the Darkhold from Strange's grasp would be no simple task. In fact, it was likely to become the most difficult challenge she had ever undertaken. She was both excited and unsettled by the prospect.
Deciding that there was no more time to waste and that continuing to ruminate on the potential consequences of her mission would only make it more difficult, Janet stepped forward and entered the portal. The white polished floors of Oscorp Tower slipped out from beneath her, replaced by patterned mahogany, and in a matter of seconds, her new surroundings stabilized around her. The border of the gateway continued to crackle and shimmer as she moved quickly to the nearest desk, its purple light flickering upon the dark walls.
Relieved to find the Darkhold exactly as she had last seen it, Janet breathed a sigh of relief as she reached down and grasped its leather-bound cover with both hands. Moonlight spilled through the windows and across its raised letters, which glittered invitingly when she looked at them. But there was no time to admire it now. She had to get out of here before—
"Put the book down—now."
Slowly, she raised her head, recognizing the voice's owner instantly. The tall, robed silhouette of Stephen Strange loomed in the doorway, and her blood ran cold. She could not speak, could not attempt to stall him—he would know her voice in an instant. Instead, she straightened, tucked the Darkhold under one arm, and prepared to flee.
"This is your last warning. I won't ask again."
His arms were extended, his hands at chest height, ready to cast a spell. She had to move now. Launching herself forward, Janet made a mad dash for her portal. It was so close, just out of reach, and then—
Smack! There was a blinding flash of green light that sent her careening sideways. Her body collided with the wall, the book tumbling from her grasp, and her concentration was broken. The gateway closed. Unbeknownst to Janet, her I.C.E.R., too, was dislodged from her belt and clattered to the floor, sliding several yards out of reach. Her hands clenched into fists as she pushed herself upright. Strange was advancing. All right, Stephen, she thought angrily, you want a fight? You've got one.
An entire bookshelf was lifted into the air, its contents spilling onto the floor, and then it was thrown with vicious ferocity. Strange barely raised his arms in time to shield his face from the blow, and the impact sent him sliding across the floor on his back. The bookshelf splintered into pieces that scattered in all directions when it struck him, and Janet used the opportunity to scramble to her feet, book tucked under her arm once again.
There was no time to open another portal, so she ran from the library and into the adjoining hallway. She had not made it far, however, when a fiery whip caught around her ankle and sent her sprawling. Crying out in pain, Janet flipped onto her back just as Strange descended upon her. Thrusting both arms upward, she summoned a burst of umbrakinetic energy that flung him against the ceiling. As he hit the floor with a resounding thud, she managed to right herself and resume her flight.
She raced through a number of long, maze-like corridors, down a set of stairs, and finally came to the large balcony situated on the far side of the massive entry chamber. She was just beginning to think she had escaped him as she left the remaining stairs behind her and headed for the front doors. However, her path was suddenly blocked when he landed in front of her, cloak flying.
"Going somewhere?" he taunted, raising an eyebrow.
His hands flew through a series of gestures, and Janet narrowly managed to conjure a barrier before several flaming projectiles were sent her way. They exploded in brilliant flashes of light when they collided with the shadowy shield she had summoned, but her defenses held. The projectiles disintegrated, and Strange was already moving on to his next method of attack. A blazing disk formed around each of his hands, sparking with fiery energy, and he hurled one of them directly at her head. Shifting her barrier just in time, Janet deflected the blow, only to realize that he was simultaneously charging toward her with his remaining weapon.
Strange caught the returning disk as he leapt into the air, and she flung both arms out to her sides, converting her shield into a staff. Upon landing, he unleashed a flurry of swift, precise strikes that took her by surprise, and a sharp kick to her gut caused her to stagger. Siphoning energy from the lights that glowed along the walls, Janet plunged the room into complete darkness, propelling herself into the air and flipping over his head. Thrusting her staff between his shoulder blades, she sent him stumbling forward, off balance.
Strange recovered quickly, however, turning and summoning another whip, which snapped as it struck her staff and was repelled. Was this all he had? Sprinting to the nearest wall, she sprang into the air, her steps carrying her along the vertical surface as easily as if she were taking a leisurely stroll along a correctly oriented sidewalk. Umbrakinetic energy swirled around her, stemming from the core of her being while drawing upon the resources of her environment. Levitating until his feet were far from the ground, Strange hovered there, sending a storm of electric projectiles her way.
Dodging and ducking, Janet managed to avoid most of them, but one that had escaped her notice suddenly hit her right leg. A yelp of pain escaped her throat as she staggered, then fell. The world was spinning, upside down. Then she hit the floor. Groaning, she struggled to stand.
"Let's find out who you really are," she heard him say.
No! Instinctively, Janet's hand flew to her belt, but the I.C.E.R. was gone. Rising onto one knee, she struck out blindly, but he deflected her poorly aimed punch with ease. She couldn't let him find out who she was. If he did, then her mission was over. If he did, Norman would see her as an utter failure. She had no choice. She had to do something!
As Strange bent to seize her, Janet slipped her dagger from the sheath that was strapped to her left thigh. His hands were inches from her helmet, preparing to unmask her. Impulsively, she plunged the blade into his stomach, pain tearing through her as she heard his startled gasp. He collapsed against her, and she caught him, unwilling to let him fall. Slowly, carefully, she lowered him to the floor, his wide eyes burning a hole through her heart.
Tears were welling behind her cold, faceless mask, blinding her. She wanted nothing more than to tell him how sorry she was, but she couldn't. He would not die, she kept telling herself, as long as help arrived in time. Standing reluctantly, Janet turned and ran to where the Darkhold lay. Gathering it in her arms, she limped to the doors as quickly as she could manage and slipped out into the night.