Chapter 7: The Undiscovered Country
Scarlet Witch drapes her cape compassionately over Colleen Wing. The Mighty Avenger caresses the crimefighter's brow like a mother, or Bova, might. Sitting beside the bed, Wanda wipes clean crusted abrasions and checks Wing's carotid pulse.
Wanda whispers, "Come on, Colleen. Come around."
The caretaker considers her semi-conscious charge and wonders why her mutant abilities fall short currently. Over the last quarter-hour, Wanda has found that she cannot just hex Wing back to health. That impotence is awfully odd.
However, Brother Voodoo cannot quite awaken Misty Knight either. And, that situation is much more serious. It is literally grave. After much incantation and effort, the Houngan Supreme still cannot stir the dead woman. She does not rise and walk at the binding behest of Dr. Voodoo, and he does not understand why. The Lord of the Loa can call on the Loa all that he wishes. Misty does not flip forward and flop her feet to the floor. Drumm can even successfully solicit Papa Legba or Baron Samedi. Noble Knight lies yet still beside weary Wing, and Jericho Drumm knows only that Misty Knight remains in some sort of strange stasis. The woman's spirit has not departed nor has her body begun to rot or stiffen.
Brother Voodoo sighs. He says, "Knight occupies an outré existential space between states. I am this world's most prominent voodoo priest, yet I cannot call her back to the light. At the same time, extrasensory ability informs me that Baron Samedi cannot steal her into his darkness. A powerful entity indeed influences her fate."
Wanda reacts to Samedi's mention, "You mention Baron Samedi. I would like to see the Baron. He coercively commuted me to Montana after Thanos kidnapped me from K'un-Lun. I could currently call upon him with some ill will."
"Well, unequivocally, you did some good here," comments Drumm.
"Thank you."
Jericho continues, "And, you may not want to cross Samedi. We seem to be under a curse already, and we do not need to provoke any deific piggyback upon our pox."
The Daughters of the Dragon lie together as they did in another recent time in Montana when one-half of Nightwing was comatose and the other was reeling. Mephisto pestered them then. It is hard to say if anything pesters them now.
Elsewhere nearby, Baron Samedi slinks through the woods. And, he sort of stalks someone, for Brother Zed wanders the woods too. In his Scarecrow outfit, sans mask, Calypso's henchman hightails for U.S. Highway 2 several miles away. He figures that now is a good time to take a hike. His partners-in-crime Calypso and Spymaster are nowhere to be seen, and the Daughters of the Dragon have also disappeared—thank God. Colleen Wing dinged-up zany Zed pretty well, and the "scrub" would like to go home if superfolk are done with him. Honestly, Zed wishes that he could just walk east until he reaches New York.
In the arriving eventide, something stirs in the brush before Brother Zed. The "Scarecrow" startles suspecting that it may be a bear or something similar. Montana has threats unfamiliar to a mousy man more accustomed to Manhattan muggers and Haitian hoodlums. But, the surprise visitor is not the expected beast.
Rather, Death himself steps forth and—smiling—stares into startled eyes. The stooge knows his lord well. He reveres and fears him. Instantly down on his knees, he stammers, "S-S-Seyé, h-h-have you come to collect me?"
"Not yet. Not exactly," Samedi strolls over, "Besides, how can a man collect a zero? And, you are a zero, Zed Fine. Do you know that?"
The cringing coward confirms flatly, "Yes, yes, Zed is a zilch." The tramp kowtows at a god's floating feet.
Sooty spats circle the sap on the soil, "Zed, Zed, Zed, you louse to the Loa. First, you are born black by chance but Haitian by the grace of God. Yet, you are a goon and a grifter instead of helping your island home to greater heights.
"Then, you are a charlatan, claiming to serve me, on the island of Manhattan. You bilk your fellow Haitian immigrants of their bullions until Daredevil intercedes [see Daredevil #130]. The Guardian Devil appropriately beats your ass before your bamboozled brothers and sisters.
"But, you do not cease your sins against Sagbata. After prison, you first serve me well in Manhattan's main morgue, and I am appreciative observing you from afar. Then, my priestess Calypso finds you and redeems you further by making you her—and therefore my—servant. She dispatches you to dispatch of a Daughter of the Dragon. Yet, you fail to kill the meddlesome damsel Colleen Wing. She overwhelms an ersatz Scarecrow who is a fraud—per usual."
On the earth, Zed curls into a ball, burying his bald head between his knees. His burlap blouse feels really uncomfortable, and the cad awaits the Baron's brogan in his belly like a cur.
"Don't cry there, and don't lie there," the Baron continues, "I could do many things to you. But, I also could do many things for you."
Zed sits up on his butt and looks up into the waning daylight. Samedi is a silhouette against the sunset, and his eyes burn with last light.
The unsettling entity begins to elucidate, "I could literally unzip your head, Zed, and leave your skeleton as a scarecrow imitating your original costume, a skeleton. But, I shan't. I could easily turn you into a zombie, adding to the zillion-man legion that I already possess. But, I shan't. I could zoom you, Zed, back to crazed Calypso in the Realm of the Dead. But, I shan't. I have better plans."
The hump holds his heart and hopes not to die.
With sleight of hand, Death produces a dark bauble, somehow aglow in the gathering gloom. The Baron sniffs the sphere blithely before expounding, "This is the lovely essence of Lemon, Nathan Lemon the Spymaster. I could shove it down your throat or put a suppository up a bum's bum. Then, Spymaster could possess your psyche and person. But, I shan't."
The wretch shudders. He squeaks, "I just want to go home."
"Simply send you home?" Samedi shrugs, "Sure, I can do that." The sinister spirit snaps his fingers, and Brother Zed disappears for elsewhere.
"But, be careful what you wish for," says the stygian shade, smiling, before vanishing himself.
Elsewhere than Zed's elsewhere, or even Orun, there is the Realm of Death. Iron Fist, Devil-Slayer, Lei Kung, and Pei the Kung-Fu Girl arrive there all at once. The African gods, the Vodu, have flung the four through space and reality's planes. Exiting the universe's ether, the heroes tumble momentarily into total darkness before immediately meeting a thick fog, and they plummet into this foul-smelling miasma until they harshly hit hard ground. The gritty ground is caustic like lime and abrasive like bone bits.
Like heroes, the four instantly bounce to their feet. Champions are not chagrined when cosmic powers shanghai them to the Realm of Death. One dare say that Marvels deal with such matters regularly.
Lei Kung casually comments, "Well, this place is unpleasant."
"Yeah, the acerbic air emulates the tear gas chamber in boot camp," Devil-Slayer remarks.
"Oh, you were a U.S. Marine?" asks Iron Fist. Willfully, the xianxas likewise stand tough in the woeful atmosphere.
"Affirmative. I was in the 'Nam," informs Eric Payne, "This is not my first time stroll through the valley of the shadow of death."
Lei Kung scans the impenetrable fog. He chats, "I assume that you reference some Western text unknown in Edenic K'un-Lun."
Payne also surveys the murky mist. "Indeed, I do," he replies, "The Christian Bible. Not that the Devil-Slayer has read it much. I tend to meet my demons in-person sans Scriptural warning."
Suddenly, a demon seemingly arrives! Twin effulgent eyes illuminate a figure in the fog. They burn as red and richly as hellfire through the obfuscation. Thanos bellows like a behemoth beast. Such is his bile after Baron Samedi bested and banished him here. His angry Eternal energies blast a fissure in the billows of ashen pother. And, manifest, the Mad Titan stomps forth, the ground trembling.
"I shall kill Sagbata if it is the last thing that I do!" Thanos hoists clenched hands, "and the other Orun immortals!"
"Good for you," Iron Fist acerbically affirms hurt feelings.
Temperamental Thanos throws a punch, but Danny deftly ducks. Testy Thanos swings again, but Iron Fist dexterously dodges a hit that could harm the Hulk. The roiled titan jabs, but Rand jukes away. Lobbing a left, the Deviant Eternal drops his deadly duke toward Iron Fist, but the hefty hammer only damages deck, for the Kung-Fu Killer cartwheels aside.
All at once, the three K'un-Lun warriors—Iron Fist, the Thunderer, and the Kung-Fu Girl—go on the offensive. They encircle Thanos and then envelop him in a fury of fists and kicks. The Immortal Iron Fist shall not die (by Thanos) here in the Realm of the Dead. Petulant Pei pelts purple posterior with palmstrikes before pirouetting into a flying roundhouse. Her peer Lei Kung clocks "Prune Chin's" puss, chops the chin, thumps the throat, clobbers the collarbone, crisscrosses the chest, knees the abdomen, and kicks the groin. He does this all in about eight seconds. Iron Fist makes his mitt like unto a thing of iron. He aims precisely. Impossibly, the powerhouse punch pops the Promethean patella, probably quite painfully.
But, the nailed kneecap just pulls itself back in. Thanos pauses to stare down Iron Fist. On each side, master martial artists continue to pepper impervious person impotently. Look locked upon Living Weapon, livid Thanos war cries loudly. Shouting, brave battlers chi-up around him, and Devil-Slayer joins them whooping, weapon in hand.
Then, a shrill masculine cry cuts the air from a distance, and a whipcrack accompanies it. Somewhere in the vicinity, a shrieking scourge whistles in the Realm's cold wind, and it finds its target again. A man screams pitifully. The five arrivals pause but remain prepared for further fracas.
However, the Mad Titan unexpectedly eases his demeanor. He deigns to drop his defenses before the deadly hands around him. Shrewd heroes heed his movements. Thanos' thick finger directs attention over yon, "I am supposed to be your tour guide in my mistress' domain. Please forgive my truculence. A Mad Titan is sometimes quick to anger."
The Kung-Fu Girl follows the guide's finger. It indicates a road now apparent on the landscape. "So, we should follow that path over there?" Pei posits.
"Yes!" snaps the Mad Titan, "You must meet with Lady Death. But, she would have you see some significant sights first."
Like Dorothy, her dog, and her companions, Iron Fist and his colleagues follow Thanos along the sallow slate road. It crunches like cremains beneath their slippers and boots. Over Thanos' shoulder, Iron Fist surveys for a certain sordid scene, the source of the screams. The horizon holds its secrets in the haze and gloom. He can only hear the continued torment growing louder as the group progresses.
Then, the ground abruptly falls away! Thanos seems to march into empty firmament without dropping, and his followers, usually quite environmentally aware, realize suddenly that they walk on empty air itself. Like cartoons, they find their feet over a dreadful loo-loo of a drop, which they expect to make. The heroes stand suspended over a bottomless black beneath an ominous ebon sky. Pei pivots as though she might bicycle in mid-air like a buffoon before disastrously nosediving. But, the female Fist freezes, for there is no longer land behind her.
Viewing the void, Devil-Slayer states, "Death may be natural, but her domain certainly doesn't follow our usual physics."
"Perhaps, that is why Shakespeare dubbed it 'the undiscovered country'," answers Iron Fist, "Humanity understands the afterlife not until we enter here."
Harrumphing, Thanos commands, "Follow me, fools."
The Cosmic Power shakes his hyper-intelligent head. Human limitation would be amusing were it not for the potential chaos that it causes. For example, looking for Luke Cage could cause the cataclysmic collapse of the entire Earth-616 universe. Thanos arrogantly believes that only he has the right to bring that event. He has attempted several times, and universal death is his life's work.
For now, Thanos dutifully delivers his company toward Death. Such is his fate if the earthly crimefighters are to understand fate.
The troop treks into thick trees that suddenly appear in their path. Beyond the treeline and through thorny thickets, they hear harrowing howls of hellacious pain as some heinous someone wields a cruel, cracking whip again-and-again upon an unseen victim's body. Scathing laughter accompanies the lamentation, and, chillingly, various voices cheer the terrible torment. So, the torturer apparently has complements.
Iron Fist and Pei cannot ignore the pealing agony any longer. Concern and compassion compel them. In tandem, they leap forth through the foliage and rush through the woods. Wiley warriors Devil-Slayer and Lei Kung cautiously follow, for old hands are also caring but ever a wee calloused. And, cynics typically smell traps. Thanos ambles after his associates.
Bounding brush, Danny and Pei break into a big, beautiful meadow beneath a bright, blue sky. Verdant grass sways in the breeze, and flowers bloom in broad beds. Bugs buzz past and birds—mostly a murder of crows—bop about berry bushes. A bit of brick wall ruin runs along the border. To some extent, the meadow site is bucolic.
But, at the scene's center, the heroes behold a different kind of sight—bizarre and brutal. On a berm, a stout and tall oak stands. And, on its lowest limbs, there is, lo and behold, the late lowlife Ebenezer Laughton, a.k.a. the Scarecrow. Suspended by his wrists, Scarecrow swings and struggles in agony. He kicks and contorts every which way as he cries woefully. However, he is as strung-up as he once had Colleen Wing and—being as naked—he is as vulnerable. The lascivious lout learns at length a lurid lesson of empathy.
Beside Scarecrow, the perished Pavane purls a cat-o'-nine-tails slowly and then swiftly over her head. The leather length swishes softly several times before recurrently snapping like a shot in quick succession. The lash licks Laughton lousy until livid liquid spatters and flesh loosens and flies from the flogging for Pavane's panther pair who feed upon the falling pieces. Young Pei nigh pukes. The man in peril pleads for some pity.
However, Ebenezer's amused audience offers only chuckles and jeers. On boulders around the oak, Iron Fist's expired enemies sit, idly observing the cruelty. The evil spirits present are Skullcrusher and Crossbow, Micah Synn and Vikah, and Montenegro. They merrily ape the atrocious abuse before them. They lob apples and stones. They guffaw over the gory spectacle.
"Damn," Danny declares, "this is like a scene out of Hell."
"Could be," Devil-Slayer deems, "considering where we are." The Defender and the Thunderer arrive.
"Indeed, the wicked are sometimes excoriated after life," Lei Kung states.
Iron Fist rebuts, "In life, Ebenezer Laughton was actually mentally ill, not absolutely evil. The Scarecrow—however heinous—was but Laughton's sickness manifest. As good guys, we should help his psyche and soul even after his death."
The Kung Fu Girl shakes her head. "No, peace be not with him," Pei pronounces, "Scarecrow was a crooked man who murdered and tormented, including our closest associates. Nightwing Restorations have filled me in."
Danny flinches. Internally, he does feel fury for Scarecrow as Pei does. However, the Immortal Iron Fist is forever a hero. So, Rand replies, "Do you see this costume, Pei? One day, you will wear one much like it. You are the future. You will be Iron Fist, and I shall simply be a relic from the era of bell bottoms and chop-socky movies. You, an everyday Asian girl, will be the iconic marvel. You will be the hero having my adventures, and heroes must ever take the high ground. So, know this. Today won't be the only time that you must concurrently practice justice and mercy."
"Okay, nice speech, Daniel," Lei Kung says, "But, in the meantime, those shades are torturing the crap out of that fellow." At one time, Lei Kung was mentor to Danny as Danny is mentor to Pei.
Without further ado, the valorous quartet intercedes. Iron Fist and Pei lunge like leopards and land like legends. Immediately, Iron Fist intercepts Pavane's arcing bullwhip. He craftily catches it without cutting his cutaneous and curls it around his forearm. Pavane's protective panther pounces. But, the Living Weapon but tightens the leather and casually clotheslines the accosting cat. Yanking, Rand wrenches the whip free and hogties the commandeered cord about bared claws, capturing the belligerent beast. Ever combative herself, Pavane assumes a fighting position. "Come on" signals snarling Iron Fist.
Several feet away, Pei's peds clobber Crossbow consecutively before she continuously clocks him with furious fists. To her flank, Skullcrusher sneaks-up. But, astute fighter Pei senses him. She spins to face him. Pei and Skullcrusher scrimmage.
Kitty corner Crossbow, Micah Synn stands—ready to fight. But, a swift spear sails from the sylvan surroundings. It strikes. It skewers. Synn stumbles. The spear's aft sticks in the soil, and mauled Micah slides down the shaft. Devil-Slayer smirks smugly despite heroic decorum. He rushes Vikah. Steel sword slices wooden cudgel in-twain. Sword separates noggin from savage. And, Devil-Slayer doesn't feel bad about making short work of the Kinjorges. Payne figures that they are just shades.
Simultaneous to Devil-Slayer's sortie, Lei Kung the Thunderer storms Montenegro and mops the meadow with him.
As other action occurs, Iron Fist and Pavane skirmish. Screaming, Pavane attacks her sworn enemy. Enabled by rage, her chops actually wrap the superior fighter briefly in rapping blows—although he blocks every one. Squalling, Pavane kicks high and hardily, but Iron Fist evades. He stoops, nimbly circles, and swipes her legs. The bellicose beauty falls on her bonny butt. Master Rand pins Pavane and prepares to. . . . .
"Cease fighting!" someone suddenly shouts. Iron Fist and Pavane pause, and Pei stops pounding Skullcrusher while Devil-Slayer holds him. Lei Kung halts his hitting too.
Over yon, a shadowy figure skips through the trees until she playfully prances over the plush prairie. Nigh natural, cavorting Calypso resembles a nymph spinning her scanty covering, swirling her shiny hair, and stepping the affranchi dance of Haiti. Sinister Calypso sashays to suspended Scarecrow and sadistically strokes his sore sides. He sighs plaintively. The witch smiles. She wheels around and addresses the assembled heroes.
"So, are you surprised to see me?" inquires Calypso.
"Nah, not really. Sagbata already told us to expect you," Pei frankly replies.
"Plus, we are in the land of the dead," Eric Payne answers, "And, you are both deceased and a necromancer. Thus, you are somebody who may wander around here in rags half-naked, like a derelict corpse."
Piqued Calypso curls a lip, "My name is Calypso Ezili. I am named after two eminent seductresses. Therefore, my vestment is, of course, a single animal skin stretched over my svelte form, split along my swarthy cleavage and loosely clothing my sweaty loins while my sultry voice seduces men and even raises them from death. Ask Kraven the Hunter. Ask Daredevil. Ask Curt 'the Lizard' Connors or Simon 'the Zombie' Garth. Ask yourself if you would hazard to sample my sweet sustenance. You could pig-out." Shimmying Calypso hikes her skirt and winks. All good guys and bad guys get up.
"Just so we're straight," Devil-Slayer retorts, "You call me a pig. But, the only sow I see is you."
Roiled, the witch rebuts, "Don't make me hex you, you haughty heretic. I am a priestess of Death, who rules this entire realm. Here, my words, my very pronunciations, have power!"
"So, show us," Payne prompts. The wily warrior wishes to see that the witch is actually a worthy guide as Samedi advertised. Scuttlebutt says that Calypso gets bested, by both hero and villain, a lot.
The malevolent mambo motions at the whipping tree. "Let him go!" Calypso commands the oak.
Seemingly, the hardwood hears the edict and obeys. Branches break Ebenezer from his bondage. His bare, bloodied body hits dirt. And, in the vicinity, bad company—from dinged Skullcrusher to decapitated Vikah—cackle at their cursed compatriot's misfortune. Amidst the laughter, Iron Fist leaves Pavane and checks on the mutilated man.
Amazingly, Scarecrow recovers before Iron Fist's wide eyes! Naughton's minced meat momentarily mends as though by magic. A complete costume conjures itself about Ebenezer's exposed skin. And, the Scarecrow stands up, staring down Iron Fist.
"What in the hell?" Fist stares back.
"Hell indeed," the devil-woman dances cheekily.
"I guessed right," Devil-Slayer gloats to Iron Fist. A moment previous, Payne postulated that the paladins peered into Hell.
"I know you did," Calypso surprises Slayer, "My astral form eavesdropped on you imbeciles on the way here to the oak."
Abruptly, the unearthly oak extends a bough above all present. The elongated arm plucks Pavane from her place on the plain and rapaciously pulls her toward the tree's trunk. But, it stops short of smashing the beauty on the bumpy, burled bark. Instead, the twisted tree ties its twigs tightly about her wrists and holds her like a hung prize from its gnarled branch. Curiously, Pavane is completely quiet. She pouts silently and hangs stoically like a leather-clad black plum. She knows something about this menacing plant's nasty plans on this morbid plane.
"What is going on?" Lei Kung questions Calypso, "You know the netherworld, witch. What are we witnessing?"
"The judgment of the wicked," Ezili explains, "These seven sinners encircling this tree are eternally tied together after attempting the death of Iron Fist and pursuing other evil throughout their lives. Iniquity marks their earthly existences. Ergo, they each take a turn suffering for their sins—one scourged by the next and by the next. Behold. Despite his recent beating, Montenegro prepares to justly punish Pavane, who murdered him."
Menacing Montenegro advances with a strap in his mitts. His recent wounds instantly improve as he goes. He stops short of the snared sinner, and he swings the substantial strap back-and-forth, back-and-forth.
To good men's shock, the animate tree promptly assails Pavane. Several shoots concenter, seize her clothing, slip slim branches beneath, and shear her garb away. They even shuck the shoes from her feet.
Evil dead Calypso dances about delighted, "The instrument of perdition prepares Pavane for punishment!"
Of the heroes, Pei has a particular problem with the present scene. The Girl did not personally experience Pavane's damnable plot against Iron Fist and his dear allies. Thus, she has sympathy for affected others, but she lacks a shared anger, antipathy, and outrage over the assassin's atrocities.
In fact, Pei experiences some empathy for Pavane. In the Girl's puerile perspective, Pei is a she as Pavane is a she, so this misogynistic maltreatment is surely all wrong. The young fighter purses her disgusted lips and prepares to attack again.
Pei's male pals simply find the punitive scene repugnant. They watch Montenegro cock his arm and clip the naked wretch repeatedly, and they frown and flinch. But, the three do not interfere, for they also see the five odious onlookers fully restored in a spirited circle around the abysmal amusement. Lei Kung is millennia old. Danny Rand and Eric Payne have also seen a few things in their forty or so years. They recognize eternal damnation. As Calypso made clear, this is Hell, and good souls could fight and free the forsaken forevermore. But, Mephisto and his mates would maintain the miserable masses interminably. Thus, with a heavy heart, Rand remembers his recent words to Pei, and he soberly pivots to face Calypso.
"What else do you have for us? Where else must we go?" Iron Fist speaks, "It is time to leave here."
Mumbo Ezili answers, "As Samedi directed, I must deliver you to Death's Palace where the Baron's boss and my mistress may enlighten and educate you further. As in the Inferno, I shall be your Virgil through Mephisto's domain. And, I brag that I may be your becoming Beatrice until you reach her audience. You see, I am the very nabob of necromancers, and no one knows and navigates the netherworld more beautifully than I."
Suddenly, stern Thanos stands behind Calypso. He claps his huge hands. He crushes her cranium and blasts her brains like beluga blow! Her red blood bedecks his blue raiment. The ruined seductress sloppily slides from the Mad Titan's stained palms. Fiendish Thanos gives the four champions a self-satisfied smile during the subsequent stunned silence. Saucily, he slurps some spatter from his lips.
Then, Devil-Slayer sarcastically states, "Well, that is the ikigai of that icky guy."
"That word is Japanese. We are Tibetan," Lei Kung chides. Someone has to make a joke.
"Well, I was just making a funny after such f***ing carnage," Devil-Slayer notes.
Entering the conversation, Thanos states, "I shall not tolerate Baron Samedi's representative usurping me. I am the only proper guide to Mistress Death's realm. There shall be no disciples and devotees before me—especially not after Sagbata's bulls*** in Orun."
"You pulped Samedi's proxy. Got it," Pei permits, suppressing puke.
"Yes," Thanos apprises, "Now, you four will respectfully follow me."
Devil-Slayer, Lei Kung, and Pei eye Iron Fist. His hand indicates that the group will follow the universe's most superlative supervillain for now. All marvels march past the meadow's brick border. Beyond it, they encounter yet another environ in Death's infinite dimension. From the dale, the heroes directly meet a craggy mountain pass domed by a featureless, white sky and skirted by a vast, azure ocean. The air and water simply fade into each other far out on the horizon. A hot wind breathes past the heroes despite the high elevation.
Hiking forward, Devil-Slayer surveys, "Hey, we have seen Ebenezer Laughton and other old chums. But, has anyone seen Nathan Lemon? I would expect him around here, but I haven't spied him."
"Perhaps, he will jump out and surprise us up ahead," Iron Fist answers. Oddly, the extremely astute warrior does feel like the ridges watch the visiting wanderers. Behind some rock, some party probably snoops—in life's most mysterious and spooky place.
Thus, Iron Fist answers Devil-Slayer's question about Nathan Lemon's absence. However, within, Iron Fist also asks himself about Ebenezer Laughton's presence. He wonders about rumors that arcane baddie Deathwatch stole Laughton's body after Colleen Wing killed Scarecrow. Supposedly, the demonic villain resurrected Scarecrow (see "Epilogue: The Deaths of Iron Foes," The Death of Iron Fist). If Deathwatch did, who was hanging from the tree back there?
Suddenly, over the precipice parade, a silvery sabre pops-up from behind a boulder. Briefly, the blade glints a bit. Then, the shiny steel shaft produces a flash so full that it envelops the immediate area. Unreserved scintillation consumes the climbers like sheet lightning. It briefly blinds all. In a blink, a form hurdles headlong from an escarpment. Arms spread-eagled, the swashbuckler aims for Iron Fist. Embracing upon impact, el Aguila compels his close colleague off a cliff.
Thanos smirks. He saw everything. And, everything goes as he has planned.
Spots in their eyes, the Kung-Fu Kid, the Thunderer, and Devil-Slayer wonder why the hell late Aguila just acted like a playful poltergeist.
Elsewhere, Alejandro Montoya pulls Danny Rand to his feet, and he smiles slyly. Nearby, a dimensional portal—a shortcut—seals itself. Silently, the ghost points over yon across a verdant, dewy lawn in dim twilight. Upon a palatial porch Mistress Death and Misty Knight sit chatting.
Iron Fist wonders, "What is going on?"