xp_logs | Siege Perilous - Part 1

Siege Perilous Day 1 - The Hellfire Club strikes! The Black Court has launched an assault on Doctor Strange’s Sanctum Sanctorum and X-Force scrambles to defend their ally. On the street, X-Force’s leader Remy LeBeau coordinates the situation with the team’s ‘Oracle’, Jubilee.

TW: strong language

"Well, dis is a shitshow."

A finger touched the end of his smoke, and Remy exhaled a plume into the cold air. The Black Court had finally decided to go after Doctor Strange with their full force. Despite a complex interlocking web of spells and wards, simply feeding enough cannon fodder into the tunnels had managed to breach the inner workings of his Sanctum Sanctorum.

The Hellfire Club had spent a pretty penny. Despite the sounds of gunfire and the screams echoing in the street, the police literally in their massive building across the street were treating the event like it wasn't even happening, scattering men around the various closed court and federal buildings. Obviously, the Mayor was compromised to some extent, he mused.

It didn't make sense. This kind of escalation was extremely expensive in both money and favours, chewed up manpower at a frightening rate, and was an all or nothing gamble; precisely the kind of gamble that Selene and her court were loath to make. Whatever Strange had was worth turning a cold war hot, and the fact LeBeau didn't know what it was made him angry. His team had hit their rearguard before they even registered opponents on the field and secured entry into the old City Hall Subway Station that Strange used as a combination of home and magical focus. Remy had joked that he should have looked at prime real estate options above ground, perhaps somewhere fashionable like Greenwich Village. The joke left a sour taste in his mouth.

He turned back and climbed gingerly into the van, his leg giving him problems in the cold. Inside, the van was a wall of monitors, feeding personal camera and drone footage of the underground battlefield to them.

"Lee, I want updates. Dey should have reached Strange by now."

“Always so demanding, Gumbo. You’d think you were paying me for this or something.”

Jubilee for her part had a heating pad over her knees and a can of Monster by her fingers. She’d spent most of the night before upgrading her drones, so getting the call had put a bit of a crimp in her sleeping plans. Still, she worshipped at the altar of the God of Caffeine on the best of days. Today was no real difference.

“Bringing up the feeds now”

They used a van now, when before she’d have been out there with her teammates, kicking arse and mouthing off at whatever bad guys came along. It had been years now but the limitations still gnawed at her bones like an ache that wasn’t just her back, or hips, or the fact that she couldn’t speak above a whisper for fifty percent of the day unless she wanted to completely lose her voice for the rest of it.

Jubilee looked over at Remy for a moment, recognising the tension there before she turned her eyes back on the battlefield. She’d managed to get one of her drones, named Wheatley, to hook into what Strange used for security. It wasn’t much, he was a man who relied far too much on magic in her opinion but it at least gave her a few eyes underground.

It seemed mostly video feed of the main corridors and a blinking list of fire suppression devices. Someone on Strange’s staff had obviously cared about fire risk, if not enough to give her more than a vague pattern of rooms.

She pulled the can of Monster toward her and adjusted the heating pad on her knees before flicking on the mic positioned close to her mouth.

“This place is a damn maze. Jean, give me a sit-rep of your position.”

“Almost there,” Jean said quietly. She’d come in via the subway tunnels, gaining access through a once blocked off door. She could hear the rumble and shudder from the existing subway cars in the distance as they ran their regular routes.

But this particular station hadn’t been in use in decades, sealed off in 1945. In another world, it might have been turned into a museum, but in this one, it was about to be a battleground.

“Minute or so out.”

“Excellent. The camera feed is clear, live recording on. Try not to get yourself killed, I do not want this to like, be some kind of Aliens remake.”

“Can’t make any promises,” Jean said, scanning the area with laser focus. Right now there was only the mission, especially when it came to the HFC.

Jean Grey meets with an old ‘acquaintance’, the woman responsible for torturing her, the Black Court’s Knight.

The sounds of battle clashed around them, echoing through the tunnels. As Jean surveyed the scene her eyes fell upon Amanda and her jaw set.

"I thought I smelled trash," she said.

"Oh look, it's the shapeshifter's slag. You're looking better than the last time I saw you, Jeannie," Amanda replied mockingly. She didn't underestimate Jean's power, however, and set up a shielding spell at once. Magic and psionics were a messy combination.

"And you're about to look a lot worse," Jean said, all sense of mirth drained from her voice like blood from a stuck pig. One of the light bulbs above Amanda exploded just as the ground beneath her rumbled and rippled, aiming to knock her off her feet.
"Still holding a grudge after that whole torture thing? All's fair in war, isn't it?" Amanda taunted as she countered Jean's imminent earthquake by using her shielding spell to lift her off her feet. She didn't have a lot of space, given the subterranean environment, but she wasn't exactly tall anyway.

Jean gave Amanda a wry smile. "Nope," she said.

A shout echoed down the corridor as Jean yanked one of the HFC grunts toward her. The man's shout turned to shrieking as his scalp was ripped off, exposing the skull underneath. But instead of spurting everywhere, the blood hung in the air then flew toward Amanda, circling the bubble in a dizzying pattern.

As the man fell to the floor, the shrieking quickly quieted with a crunch, his head turning just a little too far to the side. The bloody scalp hit the ground with a wet thwack, tossed carelessly aside.

"Did you know the average human body has a little over a gallon of blood in it?" Jean said, the smile widening. "The scalp is densely packed with blood vessels, making it bleed like crazy if there's ever a head injury. It's very convenient."

The ground and ceiling started to shift around Amanda, kicking up 100+-year-old dust that joined the bloody swirl around the bubble.

"Of course it can vary. Sometimes up to a gallon and a half. I wonder how much your body has?"

Amanda's face had been stony as she watched Jean slaughter the HFC guards. But as the maelstrom of blood and dust kept swirling around her shield, she frowned. Not at the deaths... the men were expendable and were certainly paid enough for the risks they took. No, she frowned as she tried to peer through the mess, trying to keep her eye on Jean. "New tactic, is it?" she asked briefly. "Not bad, innit?"

Jean didn't reply at first. But when she finally did it was after sending a telekinetic blast toward the bubble from the opposite side of where she'd been, aimed at slamming the bubble, and Amanda, against the wall.

"What can I say? I'm full of surprises."

"You're full of something all right." The bubble had taken the impact, but Amanda sounded winded. The pressure of maintaining the shield with all of the pressure on it was starting to tell on her energy levels. And she couldn't see the bloody woman to fire off anything offensive.

"So clever," Jean said. She sent out a telekinetic wave aimed to press her, and her bubble, up against the ceiling with enough force to crack the bricks.

"How clever will you be with crushed bones?"

"You're... so full... of yourself..." Amanda grated as she fought against the pressure. The second it slacked off, the shielding bubble dropped to the ground and winked out, leaving the witch unshielded and vulnerable.

The light bulb that had exploded earlier hadn't quite hit the ground and had been lying in wait, floating suspended above both their heads. When Amanda's bubble popped Jean struck, aiming the shards of glass toward her face and neck, to slice through and embed itself into her tender flesh. Jean didn't have a quip at that time, her green eyes lit up with vengeance and satisfaction.

Amanda's scream was pain-filled as she was slashed and pierced by the fine glass and she curled up, arms over her head, to protect herself. A couple of muttered words and she thrust one hand outwards towards Jean, a bolt of energy aimed at the telepath. Whether it actually made contact wasn't important - it was the distraction she needed. Without moving from her crouch, she disappeared into the floor abruptly, calling on her tenuous connection to the city to pull her out of danger and to deal with the damage done.

Jean darted toward the place Amanda had been, her face twisting with surprised rage upon being denied the killing blow. "No. NO!" she screamed. It seemed the world had other plans for them to meet again.

“Earth to Jean, come in Jean. I swear if you’ve shut off your mic again, I'm gonna stick a chip in your ass.”

The images that greeted her from Jean’s now clear body camera were graphic to be sure.

“So, I see you’ve been doing some redecorating.”

Jubilee pulled back the Drone she’d sent to Jean’s location when the feed had dropped, sending it off toward Adam. Magic always had a way of interfering with tech and she’d lost the feed except for the occasional scream and sound of splatter for long enough she’d been worried. She should have realised that Jean was well capable of looking after herself.

It took a moment for Jean to realize Jubilee was speaking to her. After Amanda left she had searched the rest of the Sanctum but found her gone. It also caused her to come to a grim realization

“It was too easy. She didn’t even fight back. Just kept up a damn bubble. It was a distraction,” she said, still angry but this time at herself. She could feel the tension in her body, muscles wound up like a tightly coiled spring.

“Hmm. That doesn’t sound like Witchy Poo. Normally she’s all ripping skins off, wham, bam thank you Maam.”

Jubilee swung to another screen and typed out fast commands, bringing up several other feeds that had died off into static as soon as her team entered Strange’s place. She fucking hated being so far from the action but her physical limitations made her way too much of a risk.

“They knew I would focus on her. They counted on it. And they used it for their plan.”

‘Damn, let me check with the others, see if they met with anything similar. Can you do some on the ground surveillance? See if you can find out why they needed you distracted? I’m getting so much interference I’m having to do manual adjustments to talk to people.’

Jubilee didn’t wait for her answer, trusting her to do her own thing. She instead turned her eyes to the video feed coming from Wanda, making adjustments as she had with Jean’s feed. It seemed that something was actively trying to block her, but whether it was a deliberate attempt to make her blind, or just Strange’s weird brand of security system, who knew?

‘‘Wanda, please give me an indication of your current location”

A loud crackle came over the comms in response, with barely heard garbled words. A pause and then Wanda’s voice came through with a string of curses. It was better than before but not the clarity they had been hoping for.

“Nearly there, I hope. I am having to pass through Strange’s security - it’s reacting to everything as a threat. I’m trying to go above it. Literally. Seems to be working but it is slowing me down.”

“Go quickly, I’m getting some absolutely bizarre readings from what I can reach of his technical security, he may be in trouble.”

Doctor Strange is in trouble, facing the Hellfire Club’s ally from the London location, Topaz.

"Doctor."

The young woman who slid into Strange's view could almost pass for an uninterested bystander. She looked bored, more interested in making sure her hair was neatly tucked back behind her shoulders than what she had been tasked with. "I'd ask if we could just have a peaceful trip - I've only been here a couple days and jet lag is hell - but you're not the type to make anything easy, are you."

It wasn't really a question - Topaz' alert eyes were fixed on Strange, flipping through the emotions in his head and the accompanying thoughts. "Do you really want to fight?"

Stephen Strange had had a very bad day. How the Hellfire Club had managed to breach his defenses, he didn't know, but they had and his sanctuary was safe no more. He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and straightened as well as he could after the beating he'd suffered. "I apologise in advance for the trouble, young lady, but you have a name. That will be all you get from me."

"Do I look like a heavy hitter?" Bad day, huh. That was frustrating. Frustrated people made mistakes. She dug into that little bit of emotion, pressing on it, feeding it. It was a gamble, but sometimes gambles paid off. "The air could torture you more effectively than I'd ever manage."

Strange felt an uncharacteristic surge of impatience. "Then why are you here, child?" he snapped, before reeling himself back in. Control of his emotions was important for his magic. "If you expect me to merely give myself and go with you, I'm afraid you'll have to be disappointed and whoever it is giving you your orders in the Hellfire Club will have to send someone with a little more 'oomph'."

She grabbed the frustration even as he tried to pull himself back, feeding some despair into it as well. Angry and defeated. Never a good mix of feelings. "Not everything is about who can hit the hardest, Doctor. I've been told I can be very persuasive."

He sighed. What was the point of all this? All he'd wanted was to keep to himself and his studies, not find himself on the front lines of a magical war. "Why can't you people just leave me alone?" he demanded. "I'm of no use to you."

"Oh, that's not true." The words almost could've been a coo, like a loving mother talking to a distressed child. "You've already helped us so much, haven't you? If you just cooperate with us, we'll leave you to your studies. Doesn't that sound easier than fighting?"

"Yes, it does." He was hardly aware that he had spoken out loud or that he had taken a half step towards the young woman. "So much easier..."

Before Strange could finish that step forward, the air around the two of them seemed to become heavier. Crackles of energy were felt more than heard, though something was audible enough from above to catch their attention. The ceiling above them rippled and then cracked, shattering outward like glass or ice.

It exploded, sending minute fragments and dust everywhere, covering both Topaz and Strange as a figure dropped neatly between them.

"I think that's enough of that," Wanda said, rising from her crouch and facing Topaz. She smiled, all teeth and a red gleam to her eyes. "I don’t believe we’ve met but that’s not important. Step off."

The voice in her head chuckled and slithered through her brain. I don't recognize her from when you let me have control those years back. Can we kill this one?

Oh shut it, Wanda scolded Chthon, I never let you have control and you know it.

Topaz had covered herself with a hasty shield to avoid the bits of debris. She couldn't help the momentary shock that flitted across her expression as she looked at the woman. Her mind was chaotic, a jumble of odd emotions and thoughts, possibly not all her own. Something Topaz could probably unravel if she found the right loose string.

Which left her with two choices - double down on Strange and try to get him to attack this madwoman, or fight the woman herself. She scoffed, backing up a step, the energy from the shield coalescing into a neat ball of energy in her hand. "Should've known that was going to be too easy."

"Sorry, I've never really been that much of a giver," Wanda said, stretching her fingers out in front of her as red, sparking light started to crackle to life. "And I would much rather my friend behind me remain in one piece."

As she snapped her powers on, Chthon chuckled. You taste like anger

Shaking his head as if waking from sleep, Strange looked from Topaz to Wanda in confused relief. "I have no idea what was going on just then, but Wanda, dear lady, your timing is as impeccable as always," he said, straightening his posture.

Topaz made an annoyed noise, stepping back. Take the doctor, they said. Make him want to come with us. That wasn't happening with this madwoman. "Shame," she said, raising a hand. "This really could have been simple."

Magic sparked, setting off a strobe light effect; she back took her exit in the moment of distraction. Someone else would have to deal with this.

Strange watched the young woman slip away and let the shield drop. "A very odd young woman," he remarked. "Some kind of psi, I believe or at least equipped with some sort of spell that manipulates people. I do think I might have gone with her if you hadn't arrived."

Turning, Wanda crossed her arms over her chest and just gave him a look. "How often have I told you not to go running off with strange, creepy women? It never ends well for you and I always have to come and save the day. At the very least, you owe me a very large, very nice dinner after this one."

Ask him about the Eye! Chthon hissed and it was tempting but, no, that was what the dark inky madness in her brain wanted. Wanda just wanted dinner.

"Two dinners," she said, rubbing her head in exhaustion.

...fine...for now

“Wanda, we have a situation. Say goodbye to the good Doctor and follow Keanu.”

One of Jubilee’s sleek Dones appeared around the corner, having finally locked onto Wanda’s signal. It flashed its lights at her in a friendly ‘hurry up’ gesture.

"For this, I owe you one of those 50-course Chinese banquets," Strange replied. "I'll see you later. Go and be a hero."

Elsewhere, X-Force’s Natasha Romanoff is facing off against the Black Court’s Bishop, Nick Scratch. With a little help.

Yet another of Jubilee’s Drones buzzed down the underground tunnel, keeping up with Natasha without a lot of difficulties. It was a smaller model for use indoors but she still had a few surprises installed, the ability to store her powers within its weapons for one. Sure, it needed to be within a mile of her or they tended to explode but for short-range missions like this one, it was perfect.

She’d finally gotten tired of fighting a lack of up-to-date intelligence and decided to send her Drones to each of her team one at a time. She’d always had a faster connection with the built-in signal boosters they carried for just such eventualities like this.

"Nat, Buzz says he can see the Black Bishop approaching from the west. Like, do be a lamb and greet him properly for me, yeah?"

Jubilee's voice came in loud and clear over the earpiece. "Roger that," Natasha said with a bit of relish. Sometimes what a girl needed was an out and out brawl and that's exactly what this was turning into. The Black Bishop deserved that much respect. It's why despite being dressed in her tactical suit they'd made no attempts at being discreet. In her hands were her favorite handguns and other nasty little surprises were tucked into her numerous pouches and pockets.

The man who approached seemed almost innocuous, save for a ring with a large red stone on his left hand. The woman before him seemed nearly powerless, compared to some of the others that had come along for this fight. He smiled serenely, cupping his right hand over the ring; red energy crackled around his fingers. "Don't worry. We can make this quick."

He swept his hand out - the electricity ran through the air and along the ground, aiming for the redhead.

Natasha rolled her eyes. This was what she got for working in the shadows. Always underestimated because her reputation didn't precede her like it used to. "Looks can be deceiving, asshole." She watched the crackle of energy and wondered if her tac suit had been reinforced for electricity yet.

She raised one gun and immediately unleashed a barrage of gunfire while thumbing a release on the other. It loaded the poison darts into the barrel, which she then aimed for center mass. His movements were easy for now and his casual arrogance would play right into her hands.

“Divide and conquer”

Jubilee’s voice came as a semi-whisper in her ear, a problem the other woman had had since the attack on the mansion. The Doctors had said something about inhaling too much smoke but she’d managed to survive and for that Jubilee was grateful, if for nothing else.

She moved Buzz into position on the other side of the Black Bishop and peppered the ground behind him with a series of small fireworks. Not the strongest her drones could emit, but enough to get his attention.

A shield bubbled out from the ring, catching most of the attacks, although not before a couple of bullets slipped through, momentarily throwing Nick off balance. His smirk turned into a scowl, one handheld up to Natasha to keep the shield up while he dropped the other side and threw a ball of crackling energy at the annoying drone.

Buzz ducked out of the way with a quick flick of the wrist from Jubilee in her Van.

“You dudes and your bubbles. Like, seriously, you all need to learn some new spells.”

She pushed a button and set Buzz to defensive mode, he’d use suppressing fire to harry Nick and let Natasha get into a better position.

Sometimes Natasha wished she had an ability that related to angles and ricochets. It would make her life so much easier. She felt the calm washing over her as the adrenaline pumped and she moved closer still keeping up a barrage of fire into the energy shield. Nothing was penetrating but that wasn't the point.

The Bishop could only focus on so much at once. Natasha ran closer cursing the lack of cover and the way the gunshots were bouncing off the walls into a deafening roar. She narrowed her gaze toward the top of the tunnel where the shield didn't seem to fully extend. She shifted her grip on one gun, thumbing the safety, before launching a few Widow's Bites over the shield at Bishop. The crackle of electricity was easily visible.

The defensive position was dropped as Nick backed up, pulling more energy off the ring. The wave of magic met the Bites before they could hit, causing a small explosion; he redirected the wave with a grunt, slamming his palm flat against the ground. Red lines crisscrossed across the floor, large, sharp spikes jutting out at random intervals.

Natasha danced between the spikes as best she could and kept on her feet but it was far from elegant. Tunnel structural integrity was now a concern. However, they were gaining ground as she advanced closer like a drunk weaving through the spikes. She continued to throw off quick bursts of gunfire in between reloading and also firing off poison darts. Between her and Jubilee, they should be able to one-two punch Bishop with electricity or poison darts.

Several ports opened under Buzz’s compact body to reveal small darts packed full of Natasha’s special blend of nastiness.

Buzz had maneuvered through the spikes much as Jubilee herself would have at one time. Lots of flips and mid-air flashiness and a few fireworks to dazzle the eyes enough that you weren’t quite sure which way was up when it all went quiet again.

“One, two punch on your go, Nat.”

Jubilee’s voice was once again a whisper in Natasha’s ear, indicating her readiness to take out this annoyance once and for all. They may have had a form of Cold War with the Hellfire Club to this point but they were now well and truly in scorched Earth territory and Jubilee for one was all for it.

They’d pay, ever single last fucking one of them.

Natasha fished out more Widow's Bites from her belt pouches along with a special surprise. It looked just like a smoke grenade but in addition to the smoke, there were capsules of her venom formulated to aerosolize when the pressure was released. She was handily immune. Everyone else? Not so much.

"Now!" she said into the comms. She bit back a smirk as she tossed the grenade, watching it roll several feet before unleashing its payload at Bishop's feet. The smoke enveloped him as she tossed more Widow's Bites directly at center mass followed up with a few darts.

If they needed him alive, well, she had antidote vials on her and if they didn't, did it matter? The unspoken truce had been broken and the all-out war was the only option left. Wars were not known for sparing combatants.

The Black Queen was not going to be happy, Nick thought as he tried to shield himself from the multiple attacks, but he already knew it was no good. Time to cut his losses and live to fight another day.

The smoke cleared, and the Black Bishop was gone, teleported away by stolen magic.

Natasha cursed low and viciously once the smoke cleared because where there should be a body crumpled on the ground there was nothing. She hated magic on a good day and this was not a good day. She hissed out a breath as she stomped closer to inspect where the Black Bishop had been. “Looks like we’re out of luck. He used some kind of teleport.”

There wasn’t any corpse to bring home, but they’d struck blood and shown they weren’t to be trifled with. Overall, Bishop would be fine but he’d be very uncomfortable for a period of time while her poison wore off.

“Tasha’, I need you to head for Adam, this whole place is a technology cluster fuck so I may not get to talk to you again, but find him and get back here double time. This whole thing smells rotten, they had to know we were coming.”

Jubilee switched comms, hunting for a signal from North and Felicia. She’d sent another of her Drones but hadn’t found them yet. Now that she’d managed to get most of the others on voice, or via Drone, their lack of contact was beginning to be concerning.

She grumbled softly to herself and reached down to pull out several hard drives. Jubilee was used to making shit up on the fly, it was what had kept her alive when so many others of her age group had died. She glanced over for a moment at Remy’s penetrating gaze before she reached for a tool kit and started making a better mousetrap, or in this case, surveillance system on the fly.

She didn’t have many servers in the van, the heat they put out needed specialist air conditioning, and frankly, a van set up could only guarantee a certain level of power no matter how tricked out it was. But what she did have was unique and state of the art. She’d managed to convince them all of the need for that, even if it was a bitch to keep ahead of the curve. What she wouldn’t have given to have someone like Forge right now.

But he’d died, just like the fucking rest of them. Just like Kyle. But she wasn’t thinking of that right now. She needed to focus. Parasiting systems to make up for the shortfalls over mobile equipment took a lot of it.

Just her luck that Strange’s place was more magic than technology. Still, she had a few tricks up her sleeve yet, and creating solutions by the seat of her pants had always been her very specific brand of crazy.

North and Felicia deal with the cannon fodder and banter as only they can.

Dozens of images flashed across milky white irises as North swept the tracks with his perturbing gaze, looking far too relaxed as he proceeded farther into the Sanctum and away from the fight at a pace more suited for a Sunday amble through the park.

"Hey, sweetheart?" North spoke into his comm, combing his fingers through his beard as he watched those potential futures play out and change by the nanoseconds. "Did we ever order that electric knife you wanted for cutting bread?"

Behind him, there was the unmistakable - admittedly within a very small group - sound of an approximately 180-pound body being lifted via a pulley system and finding a pair of metal knuckles at the end. “Mhm, I put in the order yesterday morning at that place on 31st, as well as the Le Creuset you kept eying for the beach house,” Felicia finally said, the only indication of her movement to her next watching post the whisper bouncing of her words on the curved walls. “They mentioned I should teach you how to use a proper knife by the way, I think I may be giving my stabbing inclinations away."

"I do not think that's quite what Suzy the sales associate had in mind," North laughed, unholstering his sidearm and flicking the safety off. He paused behind a bend, casually screwing on a silencer, voice dropping to lie just above a whisper. "But I assure you there is no shame in using an electric knife. Or in getting stabbing lessons from you."

He counted one... two... three sets of footsteps coming towards them at a dead sprint and fired off one... two... three shots in quick succession into the shadows.

The wet impact sound of two headshots fell hollow in the station, especially under the tinny ricochet noise of the third bullet. All three bodies crumpled, the last missing his eye from the exit wound. “Point goes to me for the luck assist,” Felicia said, having dropped behind him, her grin bright in the murky lighting behind perfectly applied red lipstick.

“You’re supposed to be sighting out the flunkies, then I incapacitate them. Show off.”

"I left one for you," North pointed out, completely unrepentant as he leaned backward to plant a kiss on her cheek, colour filling his eyes until they were a familiar sharp blue. "And more to come, I believe. I quite like the decor of this place," he added benignly, gesturing at the stained glass with his firearm.

"No. David, I swear to god, if I come home to our ceiling gone again because of, and I quote, ambiance, I will find very interesting ways to punish you," Felicia said, laughing. "Let the team know, idiot."

"We have some time," he replied, though already switching channels on his comms. "Good day, folks. We have additional company incoming from the south side. They seem to be in high spirits.."

As the German rattled off the details to their team, he pointed at a stained glass panel and waggled a brow suggestively at Felicia, taking the resulting smack it earned him with a grin.

“Great, just fucking great.”

Jubilee pulled back from the systems she’d managed to cobble together and rubbed a hand across her face. They did not need this bullshit, and half their team was either engaged elsewhere or up to the eyeballs in trouble.

She reached over and flicked on the feeds, sighing softly when they started booting up properly and giving her a better indication of her people.

At least something was going right finally.

“Remy, you heard North. Feel up to playing the crimson death on their little party?”

Adam Destine comes to his teacher’s aid as the Black Court’s Clea makes her appearance.

With Adam's help, Strange climbed to his feet. "I was rather hoping you and your friends would have reached me sooner," he said with a brief grin. "They've rather made a mess of the place."

"Sorry, mate. They kind of got on top of us this time." Adam said, reaching up with a complicated hand gesture. His arm glowed as a sigil arced around it, and a shield blossomed to cover them. "This should help."

"Will it?" A female's voice behind them asked as a magical blast of purple hit their shields with enough force that it blew nearby objects away. When the dust settled, Clea stood 10 feet away, her eyes glowed with a small tint of purple magic. "You are in my way." She looked at Adam, "And I don't like objects in my way."

"They sent Magic Barbie after you, Strange. Guess you really pissed off the club this time." Adam said as he pulled Strange to his feet. His shield was holding, but only just. "So, whatever backup spell you've been reserving for such an occasion would be nice right about now."

"I already used it to get this far." Strange replied with a wry smirk. "And the backups to those. I was hoping there'd be a bit more cavalry."

"Now it's looking like you got it, but we're the bloody Light Brigade."

"Into the valley of Death rode the six hundred indeed."

"Playing hard to get, how rude." Clea unleashed another purple blast onto the shield with a little more force and this time she wasn't letting up as she concentrated on the one spot on the shields as cracks started to appear.

Adam's hands moved in a blur as he reinforced his spell, but the effort was obvious on his face.

"Thirty seconds... maybe a minute." He hissed out between his gritted teeth. "Could use a rabbit, mate."

"Very well. I might have something..." Strange set his teeth and began weaving his hands in a complicated pattern. A red light began to appear, a net of magical energy that he was summoning from who-knew-where, and sweat stood out on his brow. "When I say "now!" drop the shield," he grated out to Adam as the net got larger and more intricate. "And... NOW!"

The shield dropped and Strange flung the strands of red energy at Clea: "By the Crimson Bands of Cyttorak!" he cried out, then collapsed to his knees, panting with exertion.

The red bands wrapped around Clea but instead of panic, there was just amusement written on her face. "As expected of the Sorcerer Supreme of this dimension, having power that is unique. I like it. Now, I'll show you mine." The red bands started to crack around her, "You under-estimated this magic barbie." With a huge force of energy, the red bands shattered, "I should properly introduce myself. My name is Clea, daughter of Prince Orini and Umar, and the next Sorcerer Supreme of the Dark Dimension." The purple energy that came off Clea almost looked like flames, similar to that of a certain faltine. Her hands began to wave, similar to what she saw Strange do and a similar red light began to appear, "By the Crimson Bands of Cyttorak." Clea repeated and the strands of red energy burst forth from Clea towards Adam.

"Well fuck-" Adam started, his counterspell already in motion, but not quick enough to stop her spell. His motions shattered as the red strands punched through his protections, flinging the man back and then cocooning him to the pavement under a pulsating ruddy area.

"The Dark Dimension..." Strange struggled to get back up again and failed, remaining on his knees and cursing his weakness. Still, he wasn't entirely defenseless, not yet. Behind Clea a shape rose from the remnants of a shattered cabinet, flapping slightly before wrapping itself tightly around Clea's head and upper body, trapping her hands.

Clea barely had time to react as her arms went up to protect her face before darkness surrounded her. Cloth? Living cloth? She would have been impressed if it wasn't for the fact that this thing was making it difficult for her to breathe. Thinking quick, her hands covered, started to glow purple once more and smoke started to rise from the cloak, trying to burn it away. She was almost free when she felt a sharp pain on her shoulder as something hit her hard, sending her to the ground. "Fucking bastards..."

The disturbance broke her spell, and Adam came to his feet with his hands already moving. Before Clea could react, the ground beneath her was gone and she was plunged into a fast-moving stream of filth. Adam didn't have a lot of power to move her far, instead of sending her into the sewer system lines below their feet. The chaotic plunge was enough to keep her from concentrating a teleport spell out as she was swept along.

"Sewer?"

"Sewer. All I could muster. Did she say the Dark Dimension because... fucking hell, mate, that is a lot more power working for Selene than we thought." A drone buzzed him and he waved it away. "Lay off, Lee. We appreciate the assist but an exit route would be better."

“Adam, my dude, my pal. Hate to say it, but you’re needed elsewhere. We’re about to have a shit tonne of company. Just follow the bouncing Betty. I’ll send someone else to get Strange out..”

Betty, in this case, was one of Jubilee’s drones and it was indeed bouncing just off to Adam’s side, looking nothing like an eager puppy wanting to be followed but somehow giving that indication anyway.

Pointedly ignoring the drone, Strange waved Adam away, still panting from his last spell.
"Go on, I'll be fine. Wanda's about somewhere. She'll keep me from harm."

Adam scowled but nodded his head. "Right. I'm going to clear us a route and come back. You both be ready!" He said, before following the drone away from their position.

Adam and the others instructed, Jubilee pulled herself back to her view outside the van. She’d always known the Hellfire Club had more resources to pull from than they did, but this was getting fucking ridiculous.

She hadn’t seen Remy really in the field since before the whole mansion debacle, that he had to go out there now made her back itch in the worst way. She knew Kevin was on sniper duty but a missed shot would be all that was needed for this to all go to shit.

She had always thought of herself as expendable. Fuck, she’d been a complete basket case after Kyle died. She’d wanted to curl up on his charred corpse and let the worms eat her. Remy had pulled her out, gotten her squared away in New Orleans. She didn’t like seeing him in the line of fire, despite how damn fucking deadly she knew he was in a fight.

“Kevin, give me a sitrep, please.”

Reinforcements for the Hellfire Club are on the way in the shape of Gabriel Cohuelo and his Maggia thugs. Remy and Kevin are on the case.

"Cars are incoming. I've got three, maybe four vehicles on the move. Three-four minutes out." Kevin said, peering through the scope on his rifle. From his perch, he had clear lines of sight across all the major approaches, and it wasn't hard to pick out the bulked out SUVs that the Hellfire Club liked to transport their guards in, or their criminal support. Everyone had laughed when they moved on the Maggia originally, expecting months of a bloody gang war. Instead, the Black Court crushed the Dons in a matter of days, and their men had quickly signed up.

"Dat's a problem." Remy had taken position in the street. Inside Strange's Sanctorium, he was a liability. But topside, he could move nimbly enough on the cane to be effective. "Which way?"

"Southbound on Centre. Lead car is a black BMW. Who the fuck buys a BMW SUV?"

"Remy take de lead car. You be ready when I move."

"You got it." It occasionally rankled him to take orders from the younger man, but for all his training, he knew he lacked the viciousness of the man who led X-Force.

***
Gabriel had not expected how easily the Maggia were controlled, relatively speaking. He knew the foot soldiers and the underbosses respected hierarchy, but everything he'd heard had led him to believe there'd have been more of a struggle.

So it still surprised him that the members of a legendary crime syndicate, one that had been around for longer than he'd been alive, were so easily brought to heel — and by him, no less.

Then again, if Gabriel had learned anything in his life, it was that some men yearned to be dominated. He just never anticipated he'd be the one in charge.

An idle hand straying across his thigh — then lingering a bit long — brought Gabriel out of his thoughts. He pushed the arm away, unable to help being more than a little flattered at the miffed look of the slim twink it belonged to.

"Really?" Gabriel cocked an eyebrow, not bothering to keep his voice to a murmur to spare the boy embarrassment from the others in the car yearning to share his bed. "You thought riding in the back of an SUV on a mission was the time?" This underling was becoming too attached, or he was trying to curry favor. Either way, he'd have to be dealt with. For a second, Gabriel regretted not putting him in the lead car, where the problem would have likely taken care of itself.

He scratched his fulsome beard, then brought his hand to his earpiece, adjusting it. "We're close," he said, more for the benefit of the line of luxury SUVs that he'd positioned in front of him. "Look alive, boys. We've got to cut these guys off at the pass, and they've got all kinds of tricks."

***

Remy stepped out from behind the wall of the alley, washed over by the lights of the lead car. In his hand, he held a card; a queen of hearts, already glowing iridescent purple from the charge of his energy. His injuries at Selene's hands had slowed him, but he was still able to move viper-quick, flinging the card in a direct line, trailed by the corona of energy. It cut through the windscreen so sharply that the glass around the puncture site didn't even crack. It hit the driver between the eyes, bisecting the front half of his head before exploding. The body jerked, wrenching the car to the right just as a second card hit the bottom of the front wheel. The car flipped once, twice, and a third time before smashing into several parked cars. Remy disappeared back into the darkness as the other cars were forced to brake to avoid a similar fate.

"Then out spake brave Horatius, the Captain of the Gate," Kevin muttered to himself. Poetry helped him time the rhythms of his body to his shot, although he was able to suppress those rhythms, lessons learned in war 70 years ago were not easily forgotten. His first bullet; a 50 caliber round - cut through the armor plating on the engine block of the tail car like butter, destroying the front and turning the car instantly into a roadblock trapping the other cars in. Between the wreck at the front and the downed car at the back, there was no easy way in or out of the street.

"To every man upon this earth, Death cometh soon or late." He whispered as he exhaled. Both men in the front seats of the tail car died as bullets ripped through them. A third made it onto the street before being cut down.

***

"Well, shit," Gabriel muttered. The silver lining to the fusillade, if there could be one, was that Gabriel had more or less predicted some kind of counter-attack. He had not thought it would be this effective.

But orders were orders, and Gabriel wouldn't be the one to defy them. "You know what to do," he said over comms. "Divide and conquer. No way they can take out all of us."

And they certainly wouldn't take him, whoever they were. Though Gabriel was willing to work for the Hellfire Club, he certainly wasn't going to die on their watch. His life was already going to be short enough - already, in 25 years, he'd lived 33 — and if he was going to die in a blaze, it would be one of glory and one on his own terms.

He kept that in mind as, in a rapid, warp-speed motion, he checked the clip in the handgun he'd brought with him and jumped out of the car. "Spread out, but update me on your 20. I can get some of you closer, in groups," Gabriel said, fully aware that many of these men would either flee or die.

Even so, a handful of criminals and thugs from his car — a few of them from his inner cohort, a few from more distant parts of the Maggia — drew closer to him. And so Gabriel cracked his knuckles for show, then concentrated on expanding the time bubble around him. "Stay close," he said. "You get too far from me, you'll die."

***

"Looks like Cohuelo is with the troops, boss," Kevin said over the comms, shifting his attack. His next shot spun a man to the ground screaming, but the main group was moving at high speed, blurring as they closed. "The little bastard isn't giving me a shot. Time for Plan B."

"Remy hate Plan B. It mean dat shitty Plan C to Z is coming up."

"Pretty fucking fast from my view up here."

"Plan B it is." Another card launched out in a thin streak of purple light, barely tracking Remy even for Gabriel's enhanced speed. It hit the side of a fire hydrant flush and exploded, sending a mix of water and flash steam into the air, cutting off the rush of the Hellfire Club's forces. X-Force anticipated the Club to buy off the Mayor's office and the police, but had they been smart enough to do the same to Con-Ed and the FDNY? "Dat's my last trick."

"Get out of there. I'll buy you a bit more time." One of the men strayed just enough away from Gabriel's bubble to decelerate to normal speed. "And how can man die better than facing fearful odds," Kevin exhaled and the man died instantly from a bullet through the head.

***

"God damn it, what did I say?" Gabriel hadn't even winced. He wasn't sure exactly when he stopped wincing when men collapsed at his feet. A stray thought he'd consider another day, he figured. And better them than him, anyway.

"Keep moving," he said. As if there were any other choice. He'd get his group where it needed to go, and then he'd worry about the rest of them. Some of them, hopefully, would be smart enough to execute their own backup plans — ones that couldn't be drowned out by a flooding street. But Gabriel hadn't thought to prepare them for every eventuality, because ultimately, he hadn't cared to.

***

They were moving fast; too fast, blurring as Kevin swung the rifle back and forth. He'd been able to pick off a number of stragglers. but the main group was going to reinforce the assault on Strange's sanctum before the others could get clear. He could see other vehicles, likely additional HFC troops, starting to pull on to the street. This position was collapsing as fast as Cohuelo's men were advancing. Fortunately, seven decades of shadow wars and asymmetrical conflicts had taught Kevin a few tricks. They were closing on the entrance when he shifted his aim to a case sitting in the back of a parked truck. Anticipating the route, he'd tossed it there before climbing to his perch.

Kevin sighting on the case and breathed out slowly. "For the ashes of his fathers," The bullet struck the case, activating the IED inside. A massive fireball erupted from the truck, consuming it and climbing three stores in a fiery blossom. The advancing HFC forces were forced to scatter in the face of the tremendous heat as tendrils of flames lashed towards them. Kevin smiled grimly as he pulled up his rifle and started across the rooftops, his pre-arranged escape path now clear of enemies. He muttered to himself as he left. "And the temples of his Gods."

***

The bilingual stream of curses that Gabriel let out as he dodged the explosion surprised even him. His merry band of thugs had scattered to all parts; it was a free-for-all, and precisely the kind of undisciplined mess he'd hoped to avoid. And Gabriel hated that he didn't see this coming, and he knew it would just lend credence to the whispers in some circles of the Hellfire Club that he had been in over his head, and they had been wrong to trust him. That they should have kept him siloed to theft and secrets.

His brain whirred as he tried to assess the situation. He was already drenched in sweat, and the flames felt like they were smothering him. Nearby, some men dead, men injured. Others were still advancing, which was a good sign. "You know the target," Gabriel said over his comms. "If you can advance, keep advancing."

More men would die, he knew. But he would not be among them. No, this was not his day — not for this. Gabriel would blame this on the Maggia, he decided; he'd say that some of the made men had betrayed them in a kind of allegiance to omertà, some sort of foolhardy allegiance.

That was the tricky thing about loyalty, Gabriel considered as he tried to path his exit route. (Yards away, the slender young man he'd embarrassed earlier, limping away from the flames, looking at him, the entreaties implicit on the pained expression in his face.) It had its limits.

Crisis averted for this particular stretch of moments, if not forever, Jubilee switched from her view outside to the comms she’d pulled up on Artie. It was just his luck that the whole damn thing was a series of still pictures followed by a whole bunch of snow.

She just hoped he wouldn’t need any back up before she could get things working again.

“Artie, if you hear me, pull the fuck back. This whole place is a giant cluster fuck of epic proportions.”

Topaz, in the meantime, runs across the X-Men’s Artie Maddicks, on loan to X-Force while an injury heals.

Artie flattened himself against the wall and tapped his synthesizer. "I know you're in there. You really should come out now."

"Not exactly hiding." That wasn't exactly true. She was slinking around with a weak spell meant to divert the eye from her and the area around her. Any decent magic user would be able to break through it. She wasn't a fighter. Her focus was getting out of here alive.

Artie took a step and then another. There was something in the air. A shimmer, maybe? A second, illusionary copy of himself appeared a few meters away, swinging a baton in a lazy circle. Artie touched a throwing knife in his sleeve before deciding against it. The illusionary figure threw a knife at the shimmer. A big knife. It glinted in the light. He was quite proud of it. As it hit, he followed up with a rock.

Topaz' eyes flickered to the image, watching it impassively. She didn't bother trying to dodge or deflect as it threw its weapons. Illusions. Interesting. Her gaze stayed on it as her mind scanned the room, trying to pick out where the actual emotions were coming from. Ah. "This doesn't have to turn into a fight," she said pleasantly, a spark of fire burning in her hand.

Artie dropped the illusions now he'd pinpointed where she was. "You're right," he called cheerfully. "Give up and come with me and there's no need to fight." He'd prefer to avoid it if he could, with his leg.

"Hmmm." Topaz hummed. "I don't think I can do that. The people I answer to might not be too pleased."

She reared her hand back, throwing the ball of flames on the floor between them, lighting up the room.

Artie unholstered the batons strapped to his thighs and ran forward. "You can still give up," he called through his synthesizer. "It's not too late." His leg ached and he limped as he moved, hopefully not too noticeably.

A quick shield popped up in front of her as she took a few steps back, mind moving fast. He was hard to easily read with the synthesizer, but that's what empathy was for, wasn't it? She left the shield up as she started digging into his mind.

Artie circled toward her and ran at the shield, bouncing off and sliding along the side of it, over and across and one hand reached the outer limit of the shield, snapping the baton across in a quick arc. It was a showy move while his other hand stabbed into the shield, baton tip letting loose an electric charge. His emotions were a mix of adrenaline and excitement from the fight. He was injured, he couldn't do much but damn, damn, it was good to be back.

Topaz' eyes flicked as she watched him move. He was enjoying this. That was something she had never understood. Why would anyone fight when it wasn't necessary? But now was hardly the time to get into philosophical beliefs - he wasn't going to let her leave and she wasn't going to be able to fight her way through.

A ball of energy formed in her free hand while her other braced against the shield. She just needed one opening, one moment to trip him up... She reached out mentally, grabbing the excitement in his mind and tweaking it just slightly, enough to put him on edge as she dropped the shield and threw the energy ball at his bad leg.

Artie fell, hard, leg collapsing underneath him. It was only years of training that turned it into a roll and he came back up into a crouch, weight all on his good leg. Fuck. That hurt. A lot. He took a deep breath and shifted one baton to his other hand, leaning on it for a moment like a cane while he breathed deeply. The only offensive trick his powers were inclined to was blinding people and he didn't like to use it. It felt like fighting dirty most of the time. Right now, however, he didn't care. The excitement of the first action he'd seen in months was gone and he just wanted this done before the woman in front of him did more damage.

He started a set of strobe lights going.

Bloody hell. Topaz covered her eyes, grimacing, and stepping back. She was sick of this lot, she thought fiercely as she threw a wave of magic to break the ground between them - just enough to impede the man before he recovered. Another wave of her hand produced a shade of black that allowed her to see as she backed away, getting to the first exit she could find.

What a waste of time.

Artie watched her leave, more relieved than anything. Fights were exciting but at the end of the day, he was always glad to avoid going too hard since, well, he didn't like killing people. The X-Men didn't but there was always a risk of it.

“Artie, finally. Get your butt to the south, we’ve got a mess of reinforcements coming in and they’re gonna need you. Adam and the rest are already on their way. Wanda has Strange.”

Jubilee had finally managed to boost her signal enough to get past the static that had been making it impossible to contact him. She just had to hope that Wanda would be enough to protect Strange in the meantime. She’d run out of drones to send as help but comms were all she needed in this case.

Artie tapped his synthesizer, replying "Got it, Sparkles." He took a cautious step, testing how his knee and leg worked. It held his weight. It hurt. He took a second step and yeah, it really hurt. "I'm on my way." His leathers had support built-in and he activated that now.

Jubilee sighed and took a moment to lean back in her chair. She’d managed to get all their parts moving, if not entirely in the same direction, at least in enough of a pattern that they should all survive this.

She needed a God damn holiday. She hadn’t taken one since Remy had pulled them all to New York and while Red Bull and enough speed to kill an elephant kept her mostly on an even keel, it wasn’t the same thing as an actual day off.

They should have seen this. Somehow, despite her knowing they couldn’t have, she felt like they should have.

The HFC closes in on their prey, but Strange still has a few surprises - and allies - up his sleeve. Then it all falls apart.

TW: blood

With Adam gone, Strange turned to the new threat approaching and sighed. He was already weary and the Black Knight was not the first opponent he would have chosen.

"Amanda."

"Doctor." Her voice was laced with contempt. "Time's up, I'm afraid. Your white hats are having their arses kicked."

"They're not the only ones. Your Black Bishop isn't faring well. And you look like it hasn’t been easy for you, either.” He gestured at the blood staining the white shirt under her black leather jacket, the healing wounds on her face.

Amanda shrugged. "Not a problem. My mistress wants what you know, so that makes you my problem. You coming along nicely, or do we have to get messy?" She sounded like she hoped it would be the latter.
"We? Have you finally snapped enough you're referring to yourself in plurals, Amanda?"

"Not at all." She shifted aside to reveal the young woman who had interceded with Adam. “You’ve already met my new duckling. Got something to say to the nice doctor, Clea?”

The other-dimensional witch came into view with an innocent smile on her lips, "Hello doctor, how are you?" Her fingertip on her lips as she took in the whole of him, "Can I play with him some more?"

There was a brief crackle over a discreet earpiece tucked into Amanda's hair. "A reminder, I have a contract." came a lightly accented voice. "I know you are inclined to spoil your new duck, dearest, but please keep in mind that I have obligations."

"Only for you, luv," Amanda replied with a shrug. “We’ll have to postpone playtime, Clea. I'll find something else for you, maybe one of the white hats. They're always good for a bit of fun." She turned her attention back to the man before them. "You're in luck, Doc. No torture, at least not yet." And without another word she used a sharp fingernail to scratch the inside of her wrist. "When blood is shed, let the Staff of One emerge," she intoned, pulling at the handle of the staff that appeared to be coming out of her chest. "Still, no taking chances with you. You've got too many tricks up your sleeve."

"Those who rely on stolen magic find out eventually things have a way of returning to where they belong," Strange warned. He clenched his fists, arcane symbols appearing in the air around his hands. "Well then, let's see what you have."

Amanda didn't bother responding, and instead fired a bolt of black energy from the staff straight at the magician. He countered with a shielding spell, the energy pulsing over the surface of the glowing golden globe and dissipating.

Clea frowned a bit but she knew that she would have fun later. More than anything Clea was only interested in one thing: the Eye of Agamotto. Her hands gestured as red energy began to form, "By the Crimson Bands of Cryttorak." Her goal was to bind the Doctor from doing anything else, "It isn't stolen when you learn it yourself."

"You've already played that card, Clea. It won't work a second time." Strange's shield turned reflective, became a mirroring spell, sending the red energy back at Clea even as he avoided another of Amanda's blasts. "Why are you here? Not just to do your master's bidding?" He needed to buy time, and goading the pair seemed the best option. Amanda's lack of emotional control was something he already knew. "She can't teach you anything, Clea. Everything Amanda knows she took from someone else. Usually by killing them."

"Shut up, Strange," Amanda growled, darkness emanating around her as she prepared another spell.

"Did I hit a nerve, Amanda? Does the truth hurt? I notice you don't deny it."

Clea avoided the red energy with a deflective spell of her own. Looking over at Amanda, a tiny smile formed on her lips, "Amanda was the first person to offer friendship to me when I entered this world. She saved my life and in return, I will defend her." Clea's purple energy surrounded her and Amanda,"But all I want from you is the Eye."

"Then I shall certainly disappoint you. I don't have it." Strange smirked ever-so-slightly. "Do you think I would be in this state, with my sanctum destroyed, if I had the Eye of Agamotto?"

The blonde took a sharp inhale and then with a look at Strange, exhaled out, "Fuck..." Her whole reason for being in this world was for that Eye. "I would have expected more from the Sorcerer Supreme. With...or without the Eye. Since you serve me no purpose, I won't feel bad about what happens next." Clea looked over at Amanda before she prepared a spell of her own to compliment Amanda's casting.

"I always did say that you should simply just get used to disappointment, Clea." An older woman appeared from another room and gave the two women a smile that was all teeth. "Seems like yet another lesson you refused to learn before I left your company. A shame, that." She shot Strange a softer look. "This makes twice now, old friend, that I'm interrupting things on your behalf. I'd say you owe me but who's counting at this point?"

I am, Chthon grumbled, and I would also like to know where he's hiding that deliciously fun Eye of Agamotto.

"Shite," Amanda muttered. First Jean Grey and now Wanda Maximoff. It was a night for old faces, and dangerous ones at that. "Be careful," she told Clea quietly."She's got help from Chthon, remember. We need to take her down hard and fast." And with that, Amanda lashed out with the Staff of One, tendrils of black energy flung out towards Wanda, seeking to steal the woman's living energy.

Clea gave a little devious smirk at the appearance of Wanda. It wasn't that Clea hated the woman, they were just on opposite sides of this little feud. "I know I know." Clea's purple energy grew around her before her and Amanda's position seemingly disappeared and about a dozen of their copies appeared in various locations, each one mirroring what the original was doing.

"Sorry to disappoint, Wanda." The dozen Clea's said in sync with the same little smirk on their lips.

Wanda's eyes brightened with chaotic energy, glowing red from within. The power in her head coupled with the voice of Chthon threatened to drown out everything around her but she'd been dealing with this for some time now. To Chthon's great disappointment, as always, though the Elder God would help where needed. She concentrated, simply telling Strange to 'Go', as she strode forward into the copies. It was making it difficult to find the actual Clea and Amanda - but not impossible. Not when the strings whispered to her in Chthon's voice, telling her what she could do to them if she really wanted. And oh she wanted...but they were both dangerous and giving into Chthon's influence was a potentially messy end to this. Instead, she grabbed at the throat of the nearest Amanda and gripped, feeling the illusion twist and bubble under her hand. Entropic powers flowed out of Wanda, appearing like red veins on the illusion's face and exposed skin before flowing over to the next few next to it like a disease, causing them to explode or dissolve.

Obeying her command, Strange withdrew behind the broken furniture, watching the battle with fear - both for Wanda and of her. The specter of Chthon was ever-present, always seeking control and Strange had done what he could early on after Wanda's defection from the Hellfire Club to help keep it contained. But contained wasn't controlled, and there was always the chance that one day Wanda would slip... and be lost.

The illusion next to the real Amanda exploded, splattering her with goo and she flinched. First blood and now whatever the hell Clea's illusions were made of - her dry cleaning was going to be a bitch. Drawing on the city to boost her own waning energies, she gestured with her hands in a scooping gesture and the ground around Wanda shuddered and burst upward in shattered floorboards and smashed concrete below, pelting her with the debris with as much force as she could muster.

Wanda flung up an arm to protect her face, blinded and stumbling. Something slammed into her, one of the illusions, and she snarled as the others swarmed, forcing her to her knees. Having fun, are we? Chthon asked before everything blossomed as a surge of his power ran through her. She saw it, that piece that connected Clea to her creations and she reached for it, grabbed it with unseen red, oily talons, and crushed it with a bolt of pure chaos.

Clea's eyes watered as she felt the chaos puncture through her magic, but she was also resisting from it reaching her. The illusions dropped but not without causing explosions of their own to add more to the mayhem around the battle of the three witches. Flames in her eyes once more as Clea raised one of her hands to the sky as she summoned energy spears and lowered her arm down to Wanda as they were sent flying.

"What a bright and colorful distraction." The voice in the earpiece in Amanda's hair echoed slightly, as a grey-clad woman slipped out of a doorway on silent feet. "I will have to remember to thank you enthusiastically later." She tapped her own earpiece and then moved into the light. "Ah, Mister Strange. I would let you know who contracted for your death, but."

Tarot shrugged, and her hood slid back just a little. "It is so, so, many people, and I just do not have the time." She flicked her wrist, and a long, thin knife appeared out of nowhere. Next to Strange, a pair of metallic skinned snakes pulled themselves out of the pattern on the ruined furniture.

Both wrapped themselves around the sorcerer before he could move, binding his arms against his torso.

"Who..." The binding was so tight he could barely breathe, let alone cast. His eyes narrowed as he took in the woman in front of him. "Assassin's Guild? I hardly thought I was so important. I thought Selene wanted me alive." As he spoke, his fingers were twitching, weaving minute patterns in the air. Under the rubble, there was a stirring as the Cloak of Levitation struggled to get out from under a broken table. Several more yanks and it drifted free, heading towards the assassin.

"Your value has changed," Marie-Ange said, stepping in towards the trapped sorcerer. "Yesterday you were worth more alive. Today, you are not." She glanced off towards the fight between Amanda, her student, and the older woman absolutely hemorrhaging some sort of red energy. It made her skin prickle with goosebumps, and she couldn't tell if it was fear or longing for that sort of raw power.

"Rather luckily for you, I am not required to bring back your head. I am told magic can do many things, if you somehow return to life, the contact is still fulfilled." She stepped in, the knife at his throat, and then was slammed to the floor, wrapped in the folds of the cloak.

With the assassin’s attention disrupted, the bonds around Strange loosened slightly and he was able to wrench one hand free. His magical energy was critically low, but facing his death gave him strength. The Black Court wanted to capture him, the Assassin’s Guild wanted him dead. That proved a far stronger motivation. “Avert!” He shouted, gesturing at the woman struggling with the cloak, intending to hurl her away and to the far side of the cavernous room.

The air went solid, and the bundle of cloak and woman went sliding along the floor. For all of perhaps two feet, before Marie-Ange's wrists grew clawed gauntlets, and she dug the fingers of one hand into the floor itself. "I think not." The other hand pulled at the cloak, tangling it up in the sharp claws of the imaged gloves. She did not have to fight against the sorcerous push for long before it weakened, becoming more like the shove of an exhausted tourist than a hurricane force. "Ah. There we are. Magical exhaustion." She tilted her head, stomped one booted foot on the cloak, and then pinned it to the ground, leaving it pinned by all ten fingers of the gauntlets. "Last words? You are making me quite a bit of money, I can make a recording."

Strange shook his head, panting from the effort that the last spell had cost him. “I won’t… give you… the satisfaction,” he managed. The cloak was struggling to free itself but all it was doing was tearing itself to shreds under the gauntlet. He looked over at Wanda - she was hard-pressed by Amanda and her Dark Dimension apprentice. No help there. “Perhaps it’s better this way,” he said, looking back at the assassin, his face strangely calm. “No more looking over my shoulder for Selene’s minions. And she’ll never have what she wants from me.” He met her eyes. “Fulfill your contract.”

Marie-Ange flipped her bangs out of her face, and let one of the clawed gauntlets dissolve. The knife she pulled from her jacket was very real, all ivory ceramic blade and smooth jet black handle. She slipped her hand from the other gauntlet, leaving it still pinning the cloak. She kicked at it, untangling her ankles, and then stood, slowly, watching the fight as much as she watched her target. Her arm flicked out, slicing through the exhausted magician's throat cleanly.

Strange gasped, hand going immediately, instinctively for his throat as blood spilled out between his fingers. Soundlessly, he dropped to his knees, then rolled to his side, clutching the wound as if that would help in the slightest. His lips formed a name:

~Wanda.~
The battle for Stephen's life had gone unnoticed so far by Wanda, too tied up with keeping Amanda and Clea at bay, thinking they were the only current threat at the moment. Ducking a magical blast of energy, she rolled to her feet, hands moving in front of her to cast more hex bolts when she staggered, the power flickering off as her breath caught in her throat.

The connection she'd had to Stephen - soft, warm, comfortable - formed not only through their past relationship but when he helped her regain herself, pulled taut...and it snapped.

She staggered forward, missing an attack from Amanda out of sheer luck, before spinning around to see what she'd been distracted from. A form fading away and Stephen on the ground and...blood, so much blood already.
Wanda Chthon whispered, a mimicry of Stephen's attempt to say her name. But then the Elder God was yelling, shouting, screaming in her head...until Wanda realized the sounds were coming from her throat as she raged and opened the doors she kept closed to the presence in her mind. Without hesitation, Chthon filled her mind and opened her eyes.

Infinite strings and possibilities flooded the area before her. Every single possibility there ever was or could be was laid bare before her as the strength of the God of Chaos flowed through her. But she didn't care for most of them - the most vulnerable ones sang to her as chaos literally bled off of her, decaying the floor where she stood. Wanda reached out and gathered all of those dark red, brittle strings to her and held up a hand before her, cradling those strings in her palm.

And when she clenched her fist, the world broke and came apart at its very core. Inert stone turned to dust, the glass exploded outward, the floor crumpled like paper...and the magic turned on their users.

In the seconds before Wanda's power exploded, Amanda felt the fluctuations in energy and realised the danger. She teleported instantly to Marie-Ange's side, wrapping her lover in a tight embrace before teleporting away again. Clea she knew could take care of herself, but Marie-Ange was vulnerable. Even as they reappeared on the pavement outside, clouds of dust poured from the old subway exits. "Abort!" Amanda barked into her mic, unsure and not really caring who would be able to respond. At least she and Marie-Ange were safe.
Clea gritted her teeth at the sheer amount of power. It scared her as it reminded her of only one other who could put fear into her. Clea heard Amanda in her ear piece and teleported away as well.