The heroes return home and Hunter went to her room, changed into her regular attire, and stepped back into the common area of the Abbey. She saw the team engaged in various activities: Robbie, Nico, Felicia, and Nero were playing video games; Doctor Strange was absorbed in a book; and Tony, Morrigan, Dante, and Blade were playing poker. Tony showed his cards and claimed victory.
"Dammit," Dante muttered.
"You know, for a guy who kills demons, you pretty much suck at gambling," Tony teased.
"You know, for a guy who kills demons, you pretty much suck at gambling," Tony teased.
"Wanna hang out?" Hunter turned to see Carol Danvers, aka Captain Marvel, standing nearby. She nodded, and the two made their way to the bar for a drink.
As they settled in, Carol eyed Hunter thoughtfully. "You have that 'I want to ask you something, but I'm not sure I should' look on your face. Go on, ask."
There were so many things Hunter wanted to ask the captain, but one question crossed her mind curiously. "What does it feel like to fly?"
A smirk spread across Carol's face as she looked at Hunter. "That's not it. You really wanted to ask if Captain Marvel can take you flying sometime."
"That would be wonderful! If you don't mind," Hunter replied, a small chuckle escaping her.
"I'll put you down on the list. You're the fifth Midnight Sun to ask," Carol chuckled. "I'm actually surprised Blade wants some air time."
"I am not," Hunter said.
"What?" Carol asked, a small blush creeping onto her cheeks.
"Nothing," Hunter smirked as she finished her drink.
Later, Hunter and Nico decided to unwind by watching a movie together. The glow from the screen flickered across the room, casting soft shadows as they settled in. For a while, they sat in comfortable silence, but Nico could sense the weight of everything pressing down on Hunter.
"Hey, Hunter, listen," Nico began, glancing over at her. "I know this whole situation pretty much sucks for you. And not just the whole 'resurrected chosen one' thing." She shifted slightly, her tone more serious. "I get why facing Lilith won't be easy."
Hunter turned her attention to Nico, listening as she continued.
"I was fifteen when I found out my mom was evil—with a capital E," Nico admitted, her voice laced with a mix of bitterness and lingering disbelief.
"I'm sorry to hear that," Hunter said sincerely.
"It was bad, but I learned to deal with it. Only way forward, right?" Nico replied with a small smile, though there was a trace of sadness behind it. She leaned back, watching the screen for a moment before continuing. "Look, I'm glad my mother is gone, but yeah… sometimes I still wanna hear her voice again. Some days, I'd give anything to make that happen. And that just makes me hate her more."
Hunter nodded, understanding the conflict in Nico's words. "Lilith gave birth to me, but I see Caretaker as my true mother," she admitted.
Nico let out a dry chuckle. "Right, your adoptive mom raised you to kill your real mom. You'll fit in perfectly, Hunter."
Hunter smirked slightly at that, and Nico gave her a playful nudge. "Enough about crappy parents. You've missed decades of great movies."
Hunter raised a brow. "Any recommendations?"
Nico grinned and grabbed the remote. "We're starting with Pulp Fiction. Consider it a crash course."
As the movie started, the tension from their conversation eased, giving way to a much-needed moment of normalcy.
After the heroes went to bed, Hunter found herself face-to-face with Caretaker in the dimly lit hallways of the Abbey.
"I see you're using your free time productively—and making new friends," Caretaker remarked, her tone carrying both amusement and approval.
"I was planning to get some rest, but…" Hunter trailed off, knowing full well that sleep wouldn't come easily.
"Things are moving at a frantic pace," Caretaker said with a sigh. "For all we know, Stark will be landing a jet on the roof by morning." She groaned at the thought. "Not quite like the old days."
"To stand still is to move backward," Hunter said, understanding the necessity of change.
Caretaker let out a dry chuckle. "You got that from Agatha. She used to say it all the time. I always preferred, 'If it ain't broke, don't fix it.'"
Hunter caught onto the past tense in her words and frowned. "Used to?"
Caretaker's expression shifted, her usual firm demeanor softening. "I'm sorry, Hunter. I should have had this talk with you earlier." She hesitated for a moment before speaking again. "Agatha is… no longer here."
The words hit Hunter like a hammer to the chest. "What? No, she's…"
"Fierce? Unstoppable?" Caretaker finished for her.
Hunter's mind raced. Agatha Harkness had been one of the strongest, wisest witches she had ever known. The idea of her being gone was unthinkable. "How?" she asked, her voice quieter now.
Caretaker's gaze was heavy with regret. "She put her trust in the wrong person," she said. "She died in an accident caused by her protégé, Wanda Maximoff—the Scarlet Witch, the Midnight Suns' latest recruit. Agatha saw potential in her, and she wasn't wrong. Wanda is one of the most powerful spellcasters the world has ever seen. Her abilities were growing rapidly, and Agatha wanted to help her control them."
Hunter swallowed hard. "But something went wrong."
Caretaker nodded. "There was an accident. One that even Agatha couldn't stop. She was incinerated in an instant. I put her under the care of Doctor strange and there are member who are resentful for doing it."
The weight of the revelation settled over Hunter, a storm of emotions swirling inside her—grief, disbelief, and a new, unsettling uncertainty about the young woman who had taken Agatha's place among them.
"Was Wanda meant to be given away? Like me?" Hunter asked, her voice laced with a mixture of sympathy and caution.
Caretaker sighed, the years of regret evident in her weary expression. "I didn't have a choice. Wanda's powers were too chaotic, even for her to control. If I had kept her close, I fear things could have been even worse." She paused, the pain of loss flickering in her eyes. "I feel like I lost them both."
A somber silence lingered between them before Caretaker continued. "I made a small shrine for Agatha outside, if you want to visit."
Hunter nodded, her voice quieter now. "Thank you, Sara."
With that, she turned and made her way outside, the night air cool against her skin as she prepared to face the reality of Agatha's absence.
Hunter and her loyal hellhound, Charlie, walked in solemn silence to Agatha's shrine. The cool night air carried the faint scent of damp earth and old magic, wrapping around her like a distant memory. As she knelt before the shrine, she closed her eyes and whispered a quiet prayer, her heart heavy with loss.
"Agatha…" she murmured, longing for the warmth of the woman who had once been a guiding light in her life.
"Called me sweet cheeks?" a familiar voice rang out, light with amusement.
Hunter's eyes snapped open, and she turned sharply to her right. Standing there, bathed in a faint spectral glow, was none other than Agatha Harkness.
"Agatha?" Hunter's voice was barely above a whisper, caught between awe and disbelief.
Agatha smiled warmly, her ghostly form flickering slightly. "You always had the most remarkable eyes—just like your mother," she mused. "Maybe that's why you're the first."
"The first?" Hunter furrowed her brows, confusion setting in.
"The first to communicate with a spirit," Agatha clarified, folding her arms with a knowing smirk.
Hunter tensed slightly, suspicion creeping in. "Is this a trick?" she asked, her warrior instincts kicking in.
"No trick, dear. It's really me," Agatha assured her. "You're just the first person to see me like this. What you're looking at is my corporeal spirit—well, what's left of it. i kind afind it liverating."
Hunter stared at Agatha, her mind struggling to process what she was seeing. The woman before her was undeniably Agatha Harkness, yet there was an unnatural, spectral glow to her form, her edges shimmering faintly like candlelight in the dark.
"You're dead," Hunter stated bluntly, her voice laced with both certainty and disbelief.
Agatha smirked, crossing her arms with a familiar air of amusement. "Always straight to the point. That's my Hunter," she said, her tone warm despite the eerie situation.
Hunter narrowed her eyes slightly, scrutinizing the ghostly figure before her. "You seem extremely calm about this," she noted.
Agatha let out a small chuckle, the sound carrying an almost ethereal echo. "After a thousand years of living, you learn to take things in stride—even death," she replied with a knowing smile.
Hunter folded her arms, still wary. "What were you doing all this time?" she asked, curiosity outweighing her skepticism.
Agatha's expression shifted, becoming more serious. She turned slightly, her translucent form gliding effortlessly above the ground. "Follow me," she said, her voice carrying an air of mystery.
Without another word, Agatha floated forward, leading Hunter toward the shadows of a nearby cave, its entrance concealed by thick, overgrown vines. Hunter hesitated only for a moment before stepping forward, Charlie padding closely at her side.
As they approached, Hunter's gaze fell upon an ominous, ancient-looking seal embedded into the cave's rocky surface. A faint crimson glow pulsed from its center, casting eerie shadows across the cavern walls.
"The Blood Gate," Hunter murmured, recognizing the structure. "Caretaker told me never to get close to it."
Agatha turned to her with an amused smile. "There are secrets in the Abbey you don't know, Hunter. Reach out and touch it."
Hunter hesitated, but something in Agatha's tone, both inviting and challenging, pushed her forward. Slowly, she extended her hand and pressed her fingers against the glowing seal. The moment she made contact, a surge of energy coursed through her, and the gate's intricate carvings lit up in a brilliant red hue. The ground trembled slightly before the seal unraveled, opening a swirling portal of crimson light.
"This portal is called a Blood Gate," Agatha explained, her spectral form illuminated by the glow. "And you are one of the few who can enter."
Hunter studied the gateway, its swirling depths humming with power. "Caretaker's handiwork?" she asked knowingly.
Agatha nodded. "Yes, Sarah crafted these gates. She was… overprotective after what happened with Wanda. It became a habit."
"I've noticed," Hunter said with a small smirk.
Agatha chuckled before turning serious. "What lies beyond is meant for you, Hunter—if you're up to the challenge."
Hunter met her gaze, determination burning in her eyes. "You know I am."
"I do," Agatha said with a knowing smile. "But it's always polite to ask."
Hunter smirks and jumps in.
Hunter found herself standing in a vast celestial arena, surrounded by an endless expanse of deep space. Stars shimmered in the cosmic abyss, and the ground beneath her feet pulsed with an ethereal glow. She glanced down, realizing she was now clad in her hero uniform, her blades strapped securely to her sides.
"Not what you were expecting, is it?" Agatha's voice echoed through the arena, though her form was nowhere in sight.
Hunter took a moment to absorb her surroundings before responding. "Not exactly."
"There was a time when the Blood stood within these celestial halls to prove their worth," Agatha continued. "This arena belongs to a goddess whom Sarah often favored—Oshtur."
Hunter's eyes widened in disbelief. "Caretaker was here before?"
"Nothing ever comes easy, dear," Agatha replied. "The Elder Gods believed their descendants needed to earn their blessings, which is why they created these trials to begin with."
"Trials?" Hunter repeated, turning her gaze forward—just in time to see a massive hellhound emerge from the shadows, its glowing red eyes locked onto her.
"I should've known," she muttered, drawing her swords and taking a defensive stance.
"This entire realm exists for that purpose—trial by combat, with no outside interference," Agatha explained. "However… I may have tweaked the rules just a little."
Hunter barely had time to process her words before she felt a familiar presence beside her. She turned to see Charlie standing by her side, but something was different. The loyal hellhound's body began to shift and expand, her form growing larger, flames erupting more fiercely around her.
"Charlie?" Hunter breathed, astonished as her companion transformed before her eyes.
"The old gods are responsible for a great many creations, including your faithful companion," Agatha's voice echoed, a hint of amusement lacing her tone. "I think even they tend to forget that."
Hunter and Charlie were engaged in a fierce battle against a pack of hellhounds that had materialized within the celestial arena. The creatures snarled, their claws scraping against the glowing floor, but Hunter was relentless. With a flick of her wrist, she conjured magic to whip the hellhounds out of the arena, sending them flying through the air, while Charlie let out a fierce growl and set the remaining ones ablaze.
"As the Goddess of Balance and Order, Oshtur was sometimes called the 'Giver of Justice,'" Agatha's voice continued, a trace of pride. "You can expect a fair fight—or at least her idea of one."
"Fair fight, huh?" Hunter muttered under her breath, tossing another wave of magic to disarm a hellhound that tried to get too close.
"Compared to Charlie, these hellhounds are just murderous beasts," Agatha said. "Don't hesitate to strike."
With those words, Hunter's resolve hardened. She fought with precision, her swords flashing through the air, cutting down her enemies as Charlie continued to burn them to ash. The pack fell quickly, their numbers dwindling until only a few were left, but Charlie's fiery wrath made sure they didn't stand a chance.
Soon enough, the enemies were all defeated, their charred forms scattered across the arena. Charlie barked happily, her tail wagging as she transformed back into her smaller form, standing proudly beside Hunter.
"Good girl, Charlie," Hunter praised her companion, rubbing the hellhound's ears. "Oh, and well done, Hunter." Agatha's voice was approving.
Hunter chuckled, a sense of accomplishment settling over her as she looked down at her hellhound. "Thanks, Agatha," she said with a grin. "But that wasn't exactly a walk in the park."
The trial ended, and the portal that had brought Hunter to the arena began to shimmer, signaling that it was time for her to leave. With a final look at the celestial expanse, she stepped away from the battlefield, leaving the trial behind.
Hunter and Charlie stepped out of the blood gate, which immediately dissolved behind them, revealing a vast cavern. The air was thick with ancient energy, and the soft glow of runes lit the dark corners of the space. Hunter stepped forward, feeling the weight of the place around her, the air practically vibrating with power.
She walked deeper into the cavern, and her gaze fell upon a pedestal in the center, a single object resting upon it—an ancient spell, the Word of Power. She moved closer, instinctively reaching out for it. The moment her fingers brushed the surface, Agatha's voice echoed through the cavern, drawing her attention.
"Sara was right about this place," Agatha said, materializing beside Hunter. "But it's your birthright. You can handle it."
Hunter's eyes widened, still trying to grasp the full scope of what was happening. "My birthright?"
"The two of you," Agatha continued, her voice laced with solemnity, "and your mother—are the last of your kind—the Blood. Your lineage is an unbroken line to the elder gods themselves. You call upon them, and they might be listening. They won't grant miracles, but their blessing can be useful."
Hunter's gaze shifted to the other side of the cavern where she noticed a sealed gate. The seal upon it was unmistakable—an ancient symbol, one she didn't recognize, but it radiated power. She felt the call of it, as though it was meant for her.
Agatha turned her attention to the gate. "This," she said, "is the seal of Oshtur. Only those with the Blood are able to open it. And you, Hunter, have that power."
Hunter felt a stirring deep inside her, as though the very magic of her bloodline was responding to the seal. She stepped toward it, her heart pounding. "How do I open it?"
Agatha smiled faintly. "Use the power of Oshtur. You've already begun to tap into it. Now, raise your hands, and call upon what's rightfully yours."
Hunter raised her hands slowly, focusing on the seal before her. Her blood seemed to hum in response, power flowing through her veins as she reached out to Oshtur's magic. The air around her crackled with energy, and the symbols on the gate began to shift and glow.
With a whispered incantation, Hunter channeled her newfound power. The seal trembled, then slowly began to unravel, like a lock being undone. The cavern seemed to breathe as the gates creaked open before her, revealing what lay beyond.
Hunter stood in awe of the power that had just been unlocked, the air heavy with ancient magic and possibility. She had done it. She had proven herself worthy.
Morning arrived, and Hunter woke up in her bed, stretching before reaching down to pet Charlie. "Good girl, Charlie," she said with a small smile.
A sudden voice crackled over the Spark communicator. "Ahem… is this thing on?" came the unmistakable voice of Doctor Strange. "Hunter, please come to the Forge at your earliest convenience. Again, that's Hunter to the Forge. Thank you… uh, Strange out."
Without wasting a moment, Hunter quickly got up and made her way to the Forge, where she found Strange, Tony Stark, and Nicoleta Goldstein already gathered.
"Took you long enough," Nicoleta teased, crossing her arms. "His Royal Weirdo here was just about to tell us about the box."
"Ah yes, the spooky crate," Hunter said, eyeing the object in question.
"The very one," Strange confirmed, observing the small yet ominous-looking container. "Though I assure you, this is far from any mere container. I am detecting powerful emanations from within. If this is a sign of what Hydra is after, then I fear we are all in grave danger."
"My offer still stands—nuke it from orbit," Tony suggested casually.
"Of course, because nuking magic is a brilliant idea," Nicoleta scoffed, smacking the back of his head. "Let's just open it."
"Thank you, Miss Goldstein," Strange said with a nod. "If Hydra is actively working to acquire mystical artifacts, then our situation is indeed dire. We need to gain the upper hand."
"And you think you can do that with whatever's inside the crate?" Hunter asked.
"Tony Stark possesses one of the greatest scientific minds the world has ever seen. Nicoleta is a fusion of both magic and science, her craftsmanship rivaling even the most skilled blacksmiths. And I…" Strange smirked. "I have a unique understanding of the mystic arts. I have no doubt that whatever lies within this container can be used to our advantage. I just wonder… what could it be?"
"Whatever it is, I hope you three can make something powerful enough to stop Lilith—quickly," Hunter said.
"As I've said, I'm sure it can aid us," Strange reassured her. "We just need to convince Tony." He turned to the billionaire, who looked less than thrilled. "His discomfort with the arcane might prove to be a challenge."
"Tony's discomfort aside, I know you all can do this," Hunter said confidently.
"Right now, with the Sanctum out of my reach, I'm fighting with one hand tied behind my back—metaphorically speaking," Strange admitted. "If I had access to more of these artifacts, I could give the Midnight Suns a real fighting chance against Lilith."
Without further hesitation, Strange channeled his magic and unsealed the crate. As the lid opened, his eyes widened in shock.
"By the Hoary Hosts of Hoggoth!" he exclaimed, reaching inside.
"What is it? Something bad?" Hunter asked cautiously.
"No… but it's almost too unexpected," Strange murmured, lifting the artifact from the crate. "This is the Eternity Dagger. It was in my bedroom—secured in a sacred spot within the Sanctum." His expression darkened. "Which means Hydra isn't just after mystical artifacts… they're stealing directly from the Sanctum itself."
"You think Faustus and my mother knew exactly what they were looking for?" Hunter asked.
"Probably," Strange replied. "If they managed to steal my dagger, there's no telling what else they could have taken. The Cube of Nothingness, the Wand of Watoomb, the Sands of Nisanti—"
"Your toothbrush?" Tony quipped.
"Your vacuum?" Nicoleta added with a smirk.
"Seriously?" Strange shot them both an exasperated look. "Hydra is robbing the Sanctum, and this is what you focus on?"
"Sorry, but Doc's right," Tony said, crossing his arms. "I had to drink three glasses of holy water just to walk through the Sanctum's front door, and that place felt like a vault for all sorts of supernatural nastiness. If Hydra found a way in, we need to put a lid on it—pronto."
"I think Carol and Chun-Li have a plan," Hunter added.
"Excellent," Strange said, nodding. "Now that the dagger has returned to its proper owner, let's see if we can use it to upgrade something." A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
"I have an idea for a supernatural-powered fabricator," Nicoletta chimed in.
"That's not a bad idea," Tony admitted, intrigued.
With that, the trio made their way to the right side of the forge, ready to bring Nicoletta's idea to life.
"Hunter."
She turned to see Robbie Reyes, the new Ghost Rider, leaning against one of Strange's work tables.
"You've been here for more sagas than I have—like, ever. The Forge is badass, but the creature trapped inside? It riles up my own inner demon." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, there's something you should know about me."
"You're bonded with the Spirit of Vengeance," Hunter guessed.
Robbie blinked in surprise. "Damn, how can you tell?"
"You're not the first Spirit of Vengeance to join the Midnight Suns," Hunter replied. "I fought alongside another… just a few centuries ago." She paused, realizing how long it had truly been.
"Man," Robbie exhaled, shaking his head. "Sometimes, when I have crap to work through, I just need to get my blood pumping. How about a sparring session? Sparky's excited to see you."
"Sparky?"
"It's a nickname for the Spirit," Robbie explained. "His real name? It's like someone wrote it in a symbol with twelve apostrophes."
Hunter smirked, and with that, they headed to the yard to train.
In the yard, Hunter stood in her uniform, rolling her shoulders in preparation. Robbie smirked as he cracked his knuckles, his eyes already flickering with hellfire.
"Alright, try not to get burned," he teased.
In an instant, flames erupted around him as he transformed into the Ghost Rider, his skull wreathed in fire. Hunter didn't flinch—she had faced worse.
Without hesitation, the two clashed, blades meeting chains, magic against hellfire. Sparks flew as they exchanged blows, each testing the other's limits. Robbie's chains lashed out, but Hunter weaved through them with practiced agility, striking back with a surge of power.
They fought until exhaustion set in, their movements slowing as their breathing grew heavier. Finally, Robbie let out a dry chuckle, dispelling the flames as he reverted back to himself.
"Damn, Hunter," he said, shaking his head. "You don't hold back, do you?"
Hunter smirked, wiping sweat from her brow. "Neither do you."
They stood there for a moment, catching their breath, before Robbie grinned. "Alright, I think we're officially warmed up."
After a tough workout with Robbie, Hunter walked into the war room, wiping the sweat from her brow. She spotted Carol and Chun Li at the CENTRAL monitor, their attention focused on the data.
"Everything alright?" Hunter asked, stepping closer.
"Well, since Tony fixed his gremlin problem, we've been able to put CENTRAL to good use," Carol replied, her eyes scanning the screen. "We've got leads on Hydra and Shadowloo operations in the city. We need to move fast."
"Then let's go," Hunter said, eager to take action.
"Exactly, but there's one problem," Chun Li interjected. "We can't find Magik."
"Lost?" Hunter raised an eyebrow.
"We told her about the mission, and she texted back saying something—well—prolific in Russian. No Magik, no gate access to the locations." Carol sighed, her fingers hovering over the keyboard in frustration.
Hunter chuckled softly, crossing her arms and giving a slight nod of determination. "I'll go find her."
"Thank you, Hunter," Chun Li said, her expression still laced with concern. "While I'm worried about Illyana, we must hurry. Time is not on our side."
Hunter gave a quick nod and turned, walking away from the others. As she made her way around the corner, she spotted Nero leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed, a look of quiet contemplation on his face.
"Nero, have you seen Magik?" Hunter asked, her voice laced with concern.
Nero gave a slow, thoughtful glance in her direction before answering, his tone nonchalant. "Hmm, yeah, I saw a few flashes of energy near the dorms earlier. Best guess? She probably wants to be alone. Believe me, that girl is like a gothic time bomb, you don't want to set her off."
Hunter gave a short laugh. "Thanks, Nero."
With that, she made her way toward the dorms, her pace quickening with every step. As she approached the building, she noticed the door to Wanda's dorm was slightly ajar. She gently pushed it open and stepped inside, her eyes immediately landing on Illyana, who was sitting at a desk, engrossed in a book.
Hunter leaned against the doorframe and watched for a moment before breaking the silence. "This dorm belong to the Scarlet Witch?"
Illyana didn't look up, her focus still on the pages of the book in front of her. "Wanda. It belongs to Wanda," she said, her voice flat and almost dismissive. "Let me guess youre trying ti get me to do what the ithers couldn't do. Open tbe portal. Well i am jn the middle kf somethjnf come back later."
"it is never easy to lose a comrade." Hunter said knowing she miss Wanda
"we did not lose wanda, we let her go before any of this started." Illyana looks at her. "Wandas first grimoire, agatha gave it tk ber when she was teaching her witchcraft, the dsrk arts. She was trying to help wanda control ber powers." Magik said "she never let me read it so now i read it."
Hunter's eyes narrowed, a hint of frustration creeping into her voice as she leaned against the doorframe. "I don't suppose there are any spells in there that could banish Lilith and save the world?"
Illyana didn't look up from the book, her fingers flipping through the pages. "Hard to say. These incantations appear to be written for Wanda alone," she replied, her tone distant and thoughtful. "Maybe a world without Wanda is one we're not meant to save. I know what she's going through… to face true evil itself. To be dragged to a hell dimension so hot that your soul is scorched black. Your heart so filled with soot that it chokes out the light in you until all that remains is darkness. I can't let that happen to her."
Hunter took a deep breath, her voice firm as she crossed the room toward Illyana, her eyes locked on the book. "Then put the damn book down and help me get her back!"
Illyana's gaze flickered up to meet Hunter's, her expression unreadable for a moment before a smirk curled at the corner of her lips. "You're nothing if not direct—unrelenting, even. I respect that. And perhaps you're not entirely incorrect."
Illyana sighed, standing up from the desk and shutting the book with a deliberate thud. "Ugh, fine. I'll open your damn portal. It's time I need to ask if there are others than cats who can drill holes in space and time. Maybe Dr. Strange should spend less time tinkering with Tony Stark in the forge, or Nero calling his father. But no matter… I'll be there when I'm ready."
Hunter nodded in agreement, relieved. "Thanks, Illyana."
As Illyana walked toward the door, Hunter left, her eyes lingering on the cracked pages of the ancient text. They were one step closer to saving Wanda… and, in turn, the world.
Hunter jogged back into the War Room, slightly out of breath but focused. Carol glanced up from the holographic display, smirking. "Looks like you found our gatekeeper. Good. Now let's give you the rundown."
With a wave of her hand, the holographic projections expanded, displaying various locations marked with Hydra and Shadaloo activity. "When Hydra and Shadaloo aren't busy trying to rule the world, they like to fill their free time by terrorizing the citizens of New York. Low-level operations, mostly—basic hero work. But we've got some fresh intel that might lead to something bigger. Check the Mirror Table and see what's on our plate."
Hunter stepped up to the glowing table, scanning the mission options. One stood out—a chopper operation in the city. Hydra and Shadaloo were moving something, and it needed to be stopped.
"Choose your heroes," Carol instructed.
Hunter didn't hesitate. "Chun-Li, Robbie, Felicia, and Magik will do."
Carol nodded in approval. "Solid team. Gear up—we move out now."
Chun-Li, Ghost Rider, Felicia, and Hunter strode toward the designated departure point, their boots echoing against the stone floor. At the edge of the platform, Magik was already waiting, her arms crossed as glowing energy crackled around her fingertips. Without a word, she extended her hand, summoning a swirling portal of golden light that pulsed with raw power.
"Your ride's here," Magik smirked, stepping aside as the portal stabilized. "Try not to break anything important while you're there."
Hunter gave her a nod before stepping forward. "No promises."
As the team emerged from the portal, they found themselves at the harbor, the scent of saltwater mixing with the acrid stench of burning fuel. Overhead, a Hydra helicopter was already lifting off, its rotors slicing through the night sky.
"Looks like Captain Marvel was right," Caretaker's voice crackled over the comms.
A distorted transmission followed, laced with arrogance. "Heroes… a simple world-ending catastrophe is never enough to satiate your appetite for meddling, is it? You continue to interfere, forcing our hand yet again," Faustus sneered over the radio.
"Great. Now Faustus thinks he's got a talk show," Hunter muttered before gripping her weapon tighter. "Whatever Hydra and Shadaloo have in that chopper, we can't let them get away with it. Rider, bring it down!"
Ghost Rider didn't hesitate. With a flick of his wrist, his flaming chain lashed out, coiling around the tail of the helicopter. The fiery links burned through the metal as he pulled back with inhuman strength, sending the chopper into a tailspin.
"Nyaaah!" Felicia leaped forward, her claws flashing under the moonlight as she pounced on a group of Hydra agents, slashing through their armor with catlike agility.
Chun-Li was right behind her, launching into a whirlwind of lightning-fast kicks. "Hyakuretsukyaku!" she shouted as her strikes sent a Hydra goon flying into a shipping crate.
Magik smirked as she opened a glowing portal behind another enemy. With a flick of her sword, she sent the unfortunate soldier stumbling backward—straight into the Hudson Bay with a splash.
With the battlefield cleared and their objective secured, Magik swung her blade, conjuring a glowing portal back to the Abbey. One by one, the team stepped through, vanishing from the harbor.
As Hunter moved toward the portal, she hesitated for just a moment. A chill ran down her spine—not from the cold night air, but from something else entirely. A presence. Something—or someone—was watching her. The feeling was sharp, primal, like a predator studying its prey from the shadows.
She turned her head slightly, scanning the darkness beyond the docks, but saw nothing. The only sounds were the distant hum of the city and the gentle lapping of waves against the pier.
Shaking off the unease, she stepped through the portal and disappeared.
In the silence that followed, a pair of unseen eyes remained locked onto where she had stood. A low, guttural growl rumbled in the darkness.
As the heroes returned to the Abbey, Hunter noticed Magik standing apart from the others, her expression unusually troubled. A faint crease lined her brow as she gazed up at the night sky, lost in thought.
Sensing her unease, Hunter approached, her footsteps quiet against the worn stone. "Feeling a chill, Magik?" she asked.
Magik didn't look away from the sky. "You could say that," she murmured. "I've been staring at the night, trying to figure it out."
Hunter tilted her head slightly. "Figure what out?"
Magik finally turned her gaze toward Hunter, her eyes sharp. "You're observant, Hunter. You tell me."
Hunter studied her carefully. There were plenty of things that could trouble Magik—memories of Limbo, the weight of past battles, or even her lingering guilt over Wanda. But something about her demeanor suggested it was something immediate, something pressing. Then, it clicked.
"You're trying to figure out how to bring Wanda back?" Hunter guessed.
Magik's lips twitched slightly, but she shook her head. "Close, Hunter, but no," she admitted, though the thought had certainly crossed her mind. "Something more sinister grabbed my attention."
"Sinister?" Hunter asked, a cautious edge creeping into her voice.
"When I was holding the trans-dimensional door for you back at the docks, I sensed something there with you. Something dark. And familiar." Magik's tone was grave, her unease unmistakable.
"What did you see?" Hunter pressed.
"Not see—felt," Magik corrected. "But that's the only thing I could sense. Something has shifted in Limbo, and I can't put my finger on it. But whatever it is… it feels familiar. And when you grow up in darkness, that warm, fuzzy feeling of familiarity isn't just a warning—it's an alarm."
Hunter nodded slowly, understanding all too well. "I know what you mean," she admitted. "Danger feels a little too comfortable sometimes. It reminds me of my mother—there's almost… comfort in it."
Magik's expression softened, a flicker of recognition in her eyes. "Yes, you understand," she said quietly. "Not many can."
She let out a slow breath, crossing her arms. "I want to be left with my thoughts for now, Hunter… if that's okay."
Hunter gave a respectful nod. "Very well."
With that, she turned and left Magik alone with the night, the weight of their conversation settling over them both.
Hunter changed into her swimwear, the fabric clinging comfortably to her form as she made her way toward the hot tub. The steam rose invitingly from the heated water, and she sighed, eager to relax after everything that had happened.
Just as she was about to step in, a familiar voice called out.
"Permission to join?" Morrigan asked, standing at the edge of the tub with a teasing smirk. She wore a revealing hot pink bikini decorated with bat motifs, her emerald hair cascading down her back. Her presence alone carried an air of seduction, as was expected from a succubus.
Hunter eyed her warily but nodded. "Morrigan. Very well, come in." She was well aware of the temptations that came with Morrigan's kind and made sure to steel herself against any subtle advances.
Morrigan stepped into the tub with a satisfied sigh, sinking into the warmth as the water rippled around her. Leaning back, she stretched her arms along the edge and cast a knowing glance at Hunter. "Let me guess—you've got questions?"
Hunter regarded her curiously. "How did a succubus like you end up becoming a hero?"
Morrigan chuckled, swirling her fingers above the water as she conjured a drink into her hand. "Well, I was born 400 years ago into nobility, destined to help maintain the balance of Makai. Honestly, even back then, I found the work boring." She took a slow sip of her drink, her expression unreadable.
"So, you seek pleasure above all else?" Hunter asked, watching her carefully.
Morrigan gave a playful hum before tilting her head with a smirk. "Not all the time… but that can be an option now~" she purred, her tone laced with mischief.
"Nice try," Hunter said flatly, shutting down the advance without hesitation.
Morrigan chuckled softly, taking a slow sip of her drink as she melted into the soothing warmth of the water. The playful glint in her eyes remained, but there was a hint of something deeper beneath her usual teasing demeanor.
"But still," she mused, swirling the liquid in her glass, "there are far worse people than me. Jedah, Dimitri, even B.B. Hood. Compared to them, I'm practically an angel." She smirked, letting the irony of her words linger in the air. "Honestly, I want to save the world because, well… who else am I going to spend time with?"
Hunter raised an eyebrow at her. "Is that love or lust?"
Morrigan's smirk widened, her eyes gleaming with amusement. She leaned in just slightly, her voice dropping into a sultry purr and winks. "Maybe both~"
After a nice, relaxing soak—and successfully dodging any further advances from Morrigan—Hunter made her way back to the War Room. As she walked, her eyes landed on a locked door adorned with the seal of Oshtur. A sense of curiosity stirred within her.
Murmuring the Words of Power, she reached out, and the seal responded, glowing faintly before the door creaked open. Inside, she found herself standing in what appeared to be an ancient library, its towering shelves lined with books brimming with forgotten knowledge.
"I see you're getting quite comfortable using the Words of Power," came a familiar voice.
Hunter turned to see Agatha Harkness smiling warmly at her, a ghostly presence yet as lively as ever.
"If you're going to continue your investigation of the Abbey," Agatha continued.
"Investigation?" Hunter questioned, her brow furrowing slightly.
Before Agatha could respond, the moment was shattered by an outburst.
"JUST WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?"
Caretaker stormed into the room, her expression dark with anger.
Hunter blinked, realizing that Agatha had vanished from her sight. "Standing in the library?" she answered, trying to gauge the situation.
Caretaker crossed her arms, her frustration evident. "I gave you free rein to get back on your feet, to find your place again. But I never thought I'd see you doing something like this."
Hunter tilted her head, confusion creeping in. "What exactly do you think I'm doing?"
"Don't be coy. It doesn't suit you," Caretaker shot back.
Before Hunter could argue, the air in the room shifted, and a book lifted off its stand, hovering as if guided by unseen hands.
Caretaker's eyes darkened. "I told you how hard it's been since we lost Agatha, and now you decide to reopen old wounds?"
Hunter shook her head. "Sara, I never thought of this place like that."
"Of course, you didn't," Caretaker said bitterly. "And now that it's done, why should I ever stand in your way?" Without another word, she turned and left, her frustration palpable.
As the silence settled, Agatha reappeared beside Hunter with a gentle sigh. "That anger wasn't meant for you, you know that? Don't hold it against Sara."
"She's trying so hard, why are you hiding from her, Agatha?" Hunter asked, her voice filled with a mix of concern and frustration as she stood before the spectral figure of Agatha.
"For most people, relationships in their lives are formed in a matter of days and years," Agatha replied, her tone soft and laden with centuries of experience. "Sarah and I spent centuries together—exploring the world, fighting the darkness, watching cities, even entire nations form and crumble. We persevered together, side by side, enduring the test of time."
Hunter's brows furrowed, a flicker of impatience crossing her face. "You haven't answered my question."
Agatha sighed, her ethereal presence flickering with a hint of sadness. "You don't understand, Hunter. She needs time… time to heal," Agatha explained gently. "Wanda—locking the library, the memorial, she didn't waste any time burying what happened. It's her way of coping."
Hunter's expression softened, but she shook her head. "You're right, I don't understand," she said quietly, feeling the weight of the situation bearing down on her.
"It's not up to me to reveal myself," Agatha continued, her voice steady but mournful. "It's up to her to accept what happened and allow herself to grieve. When that happens, when she's ready, we will see each other again… but not before."
Hunter stood silent for a moment, pondering Agatha's words. She wanted to help Wanda, to make things right, but the weight of Agatha's centuries of wisdom weighed heavily on her. "Very well, but what are you looking at here?" she asked, her curiosity piqued as she noticed the journal Agatha had been studying.
"Wanda's journal," Agatha said, her eyes flicking to the pages. "The Abbey holds many secrets, secrets that have been here all this time."
"Even to you?" Hunter asked, her voice a mix of skepticism and intrigue. She knew Agatha had been around long enough to have uncovered countless mysteries, so the idea that even she had missed something intrigued her.
"Even to me," Agatha replied with a trace of ruefulness in her voice. "Wanda explored these grounds, searching for secrets—things hidden beneath the surface. The journal holds clues about the experiments she was conducting here."
"Experiments? Why do I feel like you're going to get me in trouble?" Hunter asked, crossing her arms, half-smiling despite the tension. She couldn't shake the feeling that whatever Agatha was hinting at, it was going to lead to complications.
"Since when has that ever stopped you?" Agatha responded, a playful gleam in her eyes, her voice tinged with amusement. "Meet me at the altar," she said, her form beginning to dissipate into the shadows of the Abbey as she spoke, her final words lingering in the air before she vanished completely.
Hunter stood still for a moment, staring at the space where Agatha had been. She wasn't sure what she was getting herself into, but one thing was clear—she had no choice but to follow Agatha's cryptic request. With a deep breath, she steeled herself for whatever came next.
Hunter arrived at the Elemental Altar, passing through the training yard, where the sounds of weapons clashing and the shouts of training warriors filled the air. The night was cool, but the altar itself emanated a mysterious warmth. In the center of the altar stood Agatha, her figure almost glowing in the dim light, a sly smile playing across her face.
"Like most things, the Abbey holds many secrets," Agatha said, her voice smooth and filled with knowing. "Do you remember the words I told you?"
Hunter groaned and shook her head, clearly not eager to recall the memory. "Please, don't make me say it," she muttered under her breath, her cheeks flushing slightly in embarrassment.
Agatha's smile only deepened as she crossed her arms, clearly enjoying the moment. "Now, Hunter," she urged, her smirk wide and playful.
Hunter sighed and rolled her eyes. She knew better than to argue. "Hocus… Pocus," she muttered reluctantly, wincing at how childish the words sounded coming from her lips.
At her utterance, the air around them seemed to hum with energy, and four pedestals materialized before her, each one glowing softly with a faint elemental aura.
Agatha's eyes sparkled with approval. "You haven't lost your touch. Simple spell, but deep meaning," she said, her tone dripping with pride. "These altars must be powered by the elemental rods scattered around the Abbey. Once you find them, you may learn the next word of power."
Hunter smirked, the challenge lighting a fire in her. "Sounds like fun," she said, a confident grin spreading across her face. "I'll get to work."
Agatha gave her a knowing look, one that suggested she was amused by Hunter's determination, then disappeared into the shadows of the Abbey. Hunter stood alone for a moment, the pedestals before her seeming to pulse with anticipation. She could already feel the pull of the task ahead, but for now, she was content to retreat to her quarters for the night.
With a final glance at the altar, she turned and walked back to the Abbey's halls, ready to rest before beginning her next adventure in the morning.
When Hunter opened her eyes, she found herself standing in an endless white void. The space around her was vast, infinite, yet eerily silent. A strange, unsettling sensation settled in her gut, as if she had been here before—somewhere beyond time and reality itself.
Then, she saw her.
Lillith.
But not as the monstrous Mother of Demons she had fought against, not the terrifying force that haunted her nightmares. No, this was Lillith as she had once been—a woman of grace and beauty, untouched by corruption, her emerald eyes filled not with malice, but with something almost… warm.
"Can that really be you?" Lillith's voice was soft, almost in disbelief. She took a step closer, her expression unreadable. "After all these years, it's good to see you again."
Hunter's jaw tightened. She clenched her fists, refusing to let herself be drawn in by this illusion. "I wish I could say the same, Mother. Now enough with the deception—reveal your true form."
Lillith tilted her head slightly, a hint of sorrow in her gaze. "But this is my true form," she insisted. "The way I was when you were just a sweet, helpless little baby."
Hunter's breath caught in her throat.
"You don't remember that, do you?" Lillith continued, her voice laced with something akin to longing. "Well, I do… Bringing you into the world was the happiest moment of my life."
Hunter's fingers twitched at her sides, anger flaring within her. "And taking you out of it will be mine," she spat.
Lillith sighed, shaking her head. "I thought the Words of Power would open your eyes," she murmured, disappointment creeping into her voice. "But I should have known… My sister and her pet witch would continue to withhold the truth from you."
Hunter's glare hardened. "And what truth would that be?"
Lillith took a step closer, lowering her voice, as if sharing a secret meant only for Hunter's ears. "The truth they're hiding from you. You need only—"
A sudden, blinding white light erupted around them.
Hunter's eyes widened as the world around her began to distort. "Wait—!" she called out, but before she could get an answer, everything dissolved into nothingness.
She awoke with a sharp gasp.