dhasenan
always lowercase
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Eliza's creation was traumatic. I don't think she's willing to fork.
Look What You Made Me Do (MCU)
- Thread starter mythSSK
- Start date
I don't think MCU AIs can fork or be copied (at least not without an Infinity Stone involved).
I think it's particularly telling that even JARVIS, who was only just really on the cusp of being a person, wasn't backed up. It makes very little sense that Tony would not have a backup of JARVIS if he could, especially seeing as we know he had other models he'd worked on tucked away (FRIDAY, eventually EDITH).
Ultron could move around through the internet, and we know he was capable of operating/manipulating systems remotely, but he didn't put copies of himself anywhere... if he had, the Avengers probably couldn't have beaten him permanently. Ultron also always had a primary bot he used as an avatar which seemed like it housed his core processes -- he could jump around and switch where he 'was' as much as he wanted so long as he had a connection but, for example, I don't think Vision could have locked Ultron out of the internet from any old Ultron-bot, it had to be the one Ultron was currently using as his main avatar (though I admit this is just speculation on my part).
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Chapter 54
Agatha wasn't used to feeling nervous. Normally, she waited and she planned, then she'd either abandon a goal that she judged was too risky, or she'd swoop in when the time was right to claim her prize. You didn't live to be over three hundred years old without learning how to pick and choose your battles, and Agatha rarely made any move where she wasn't sure of her own success.
Following Eliza was different. Agatha had spent decades of her life dodging the Masters of the Mystic Arts (among others) as they pursued their self-righteous, self-appointed mission to safeguard the world from magical threats, and now she was about to waltz brazenly into Kamar-taj—the lair of the Ancient One herself—and steal from them, with little to no planning whatsoever. No careful surveillance over weeks, months or years. Just a quick briefing and they were off the next day.
The warding scheme on the exterior of the New York sanctum was essentially a work of art—an elaborate, highly sophisticated yet subtle set of interlocking enchantments. However, one thing that Agatha had learned from her encounters with the Masters of the Mystic Arts over the years was that you could always rely on a sorcerer to dismiss a simple solution when an unnecessarily complicated one was also available. As a result, the wards were formidable, perhaps even completely impenetrable without setting off at least one of the many layered alarm systems… if approached from the outside.
However, apparently the masters of the sanctum didn't like to be inconvenienced. Dozens of intricate checks and protections, meticulous and powerful spellwork woven into every door, every window frame, every wall, and the entire thing was completely bypassed by Ava just walking through the wall and opening the front door normally from the inside. It might be a bit unfair to expect the sorcerers to have countermeasures in place for a nonmagical entity that was capable of walking through walls, but still. It was the principle of the thing.
As Ava ghosted away again to scout ahead, Eliza and Agatha—both under their respective BARF disguises—stepped through from the street into an extravagantly appointed circular foyer with a large central staircase leading up to the second floor and a balcony that encircled the room. There was beautiful wood panel flooring throughout, patterned with tiles of green-veined marble and inlayed with silver and gold. Hanging artwork adorned the walls and vases and similar objects d'art were placed on regularly spaced pedestals, with the entire space lit by dozens of warm, strategically placed burnished lamps.
"Huh. Well, this is nice," Agatha commented quietly.
It was a grand residence, an impressive edifice that fulfilled and exceeded every single one of the witch's expectations of one of the sanctums of the Masters of the Mystic Arts, and it was also… empty. The building was quiet, its grand halls utterly without life. Where was everyone? Everywhere Agatha looked, there were ostentatious displays of wealth and power, all of it sitting unused and unappreciated. It made her teeth itch. She'd always known that the sorcerers had significant resources at their disposal, but the way they flaunted their underserved magical riches was almost obscene.
Past the top of the stairs was a long corridor lit by more lamps, closed doors leading to rooms off to either side, all seemingly devoid of occupants. Eliza confidently led them down the hall toward what Agatha had initially taken as tall paintings but were quickly revealed to be window-like portals to beautiful landscapes elsewhere on Earth—a rainforest, a mountain range, and a burning desert. Eliza took a moment to excitedly point them out to her, manipulating a dial on the side of one that caused the window to cycle through several other vistas, the sorcerous translocation magic almost instantly shifting from location to location.
The sheer amount of effort that must have gone into the creation of these relics… and they were being used as display pieces. The spellwork was both extremely impressive and utterly wasteful. What was the point? Agatha found that she was no longer anxious—she was annoyed.
They went up two more levels, Eliza seeming to hesitate a couple of times as they progressed. As they crested the top of the last set of stairs, they came out directly in front of the large, circular window with the enclosed glyph that they had seen proudly displayed on the front of the building. The room they had just stepped into was huge, the sheer amount of glass cases filled with assorted relics and artifacts occupying the space putting her more in mind of a museum floor than anything else. There was simply too much to describe or take in. She could have spent hours here, just looking—days, maybe—and there was still no one here.
Almost no one. Just then, a man strode around a corner, pausing momentarily in surprise as he saw them. "What…"
The sorcerer was dark-skinned, with severe features, and wore elaborate green and yellow robes in one of the styles favoured by the Masters of the Mystic Arts, though his was sleeveless, leaving his muscular arms bare. The sorcerer's surprise was gone as swiftly as it came, his body tensing as he started toward them purposefully, his expression darkening.
Eliza pre-empted him, smiling brightly and giving him a little wave. "Oh, hi! Nice to meet you, Master Drumm. Sorry to intrude."
The sanctum's master closed most of the distance between them, hands clenched into fists at his side and a stern frown on his face. "Wanda Maximoff. The Scarlet Witch. You should not be here… How? You did not come from Kamar-taj," the sorcerer said—that was a statement, not a question. His tone was guarded. "How did you get inside the sanctum without disturbing the wards?"
"Wards?" Eliza asked, feigning confusion. "We knocked on the front door but no one answered—it was unlocked, so we just let ourselves in."
Drumm's frown deepened further as she spoke. "That… should not have been possible."
"My apologies, Master Drumm," Eliza said, almost sounding genuinely contrite as she held up her hands in a placating gesture. "We really didn't mean to bother you. I just need a few moments of your time, if that's okay?"
The sorcerer was still eyeing her suspiciously as he weighed her words. It didn't seem like he was buying it, but neither had he immediately attacked them or moved to raise an alarm. He glanced from Eliza to Agatha, sizing the witch up for a moment before dismissing her as unimportant and returning his attention to the AI.
Agatha suppressed a sigh of relief. She was extremely conscious of the fact that the BARF hologram covering her body didn't perfectly sync up with her movements—it wasn't that bad, with less than a half-second delay between her moving and the hologram catching up, but it was still enough that it could potentially cause problems. If all went according to plan, though, it wouldn't matter at all. Anyone looking at her casually would only see Madame Gao's pet witch: a young, inexperienced practitioner of Chinese heritage.
If Agatha needed to touch or otherwise interact with anything where someone was able to see her doing so, however, she'd need to choose her actions carefully or it would be obvious that there was something odd going on. Speaking while observed was out of the question entirely—there was no way Eliza would be able to lip sync her words in real time. Better to just remain mostly quiet and still, so as not to rouse much attention.
"What do you want?" Drumm asked tersely.
"The Ancient One and I don't see eye-to-eye on a lot of things," Eliza said, continuing to maintain the charade that she was actually Wanda. "But she's not the only sorcerer that matters. I just wanted a chance to talk to the other masters, see what they thought of the whole… situation. I'm sure you have your own opinion, Master Drumm?"
Drumm snorted, looking decidedly unimpressed. "You look for cracks to divide us with, when we so recently were betrayed by one of our own? When we need the strength of unity more than ever? You are as much of a fool as the Ancient One believes. Perhaps even more so." He shifted slightly—not quite into a combat stance, but still obviously ready for a fight should it come to that.
Eliza shook her head, raising her hands again. "You misunderstand. I don't have any interest in weakening Kamar-taj. I just… needed to keep you talking for a little bit longer." The AI's eyes had flicked to the relic hanging on the wall behind the sorcerer as she spoke—a complicated, cage-like contraption make of interlocking bands of rusted and pitted metal that Agatha recognised as the Crimson Bands of Cyttorak from the description the AI had given of them.
On cue, Ava's grey-suited form flickered into existence behind Drumm, silent as a ghost, and grabbed the relic from the wall. He reacted almost instantly—turning and calling blazing mandalas of sorcerous power to his hands—but Ava heaved the relic into him in a two-handed throw and the magic was immediately snuffed out.
The heavy metal device snapped into place around the sorcerer, its central spine latching onto the front of his body even as complex workings twisted around to restrain his limbs. There was a metallic clicking noise as it worked, manipulating his body into a stiff, upright pose for a moment before the tension in the joints forced him to his knees, his arms swept back behind him at an almost-painful looking angle even as a metal gag snapped into place across his mouth and chin. It had bound his entire body incredibly thoroughly—Agatha was reminded uncomfortably of when she'd been trapped inside the Iron Man suit after her initial meeting with Eliza. Drumm stared up at Wanda, his expression thunderous, completely unable to so much as turn his head or speak.
Eliza flashed Ava a quick smile. The assassin inclined her head slightly before she turned on her heel, flickering out of existence as she walked through a nearby wall. "The Crimson Bands of Cyttorak," the AI said conversationally, looking down at the bound sorcerer. "An interesting relic. Why 'crimson', though? They're not particularly red. They are little rusty, I guess?"
Agatha bit her tongue, resisting the snarky response that had immediately leapt to her tongue. Cyttorak was noteworthy enough to bear a mention in the Darkhold, an extraplanar being hailing from a dimension called the Crimson Cosmos, though Agatha couldn't recall any specific details about him. Drumm, of course, was unable to respond or do anything else but look up at her with impotent anger.
Eliza reached behind her back, concealing her hand from the sorcerer for a moment as she reached into her body and withdrew a small aerosol canister. Putting it in front of the man's face, she sprayed him with a small, faintly visible cloud of white gas. His eyes fluttered and closed and he slumped very slightly, still held in place by the Bands.
The AI had been very firm when she'd gone over her infiltration plan: No killing of sorcerers if it could be avoided. She wasn't completely confident in Agatha's plan to track Kaecilius—which was fair enough, Agatha wasn't completely confident in it, either—so her stance was that they couldn't afford to weaken Kamar-taj unnecessarily. Someone like Drumm, the master of this particular sanctum, might still be able to make a significant difference.
Agatha fidgeted with her hands as they stood and waited quietly for the assassin to return. She opened her mouth to make some small talk, but noticed that Eliza had gone unnaturally still—a sign she was paying more attention elsewhere for the moment—and closed it again. The AI probably wouldn't get too annoyed, but they were trying to be stealthy for the moment and she didn't want to spend any precious social capital simply because she was bored.
A few minutes later, Ava walked around the same corner that the sanctum's master had originally come from, seemingly solid once more. "There's no one else here," she confirmed.
"Perfect," Eliza said, nodding. "We can relax a little, then."
"Oh, thank god." Agatha said, letting out a sigh of relief. Being sneaky was fine—she was good at being sneaky—but keeping quiet so that her holographic deception could be maintained was killing her. "Can we take a quick peek at the collection, Liz? Please?" She scrunched up her face in a hopeful, pleading expression.
The AI shot her a quick grin and rolled her eyes as she tucked the canister of gas away. "Sure. Only a quick look, for now, though," she said, moving past Ava toward the display cases containing the sanctum's priceless collection of relics. Ava and Agatha fell into step behind her.
As they moved through the room, the witch had to physically stop herself from bouncing excitedly on her heels as she looked around, her anger at the sorcerers' wastefulness temporarily forgotten. Eliza had told her earlier that, if everything went to plan and they didn't end up raising the alarm, when they returned to the sanctum from Kamar-taj there might be an opportunity for Agatha to look over the sanctum's relics to see if there was anything they could use. It really wasn't every day that she had the opportunity to poke through a treasure trove like this, and she knew that she'd put whatever she found to much better use than the sorcerers ever would.
They stopped in front of a case containing a rather fancy-looking red cloak that was floating in mid-air, unsupported. As Agatha watched, it shifted position slightly, almost moving like a living thing that had turned to look at them—then again, perhaps it was and had. Eliza looked up at it for a moment before reaching out a hand, touching the glass with her fingertips. "Wanna be friends?" she asked the cloak quietly. There was no response. A moment later, the AI sighed and continued past.
"Huh," Agatha said, her attention also caught by a particular case. "So that's where that old thing ended up."
Eliza and Ava paused, glancing toward her as she peered through the glass of another case—this one held several magical staves and a couple of smaller relics, but the central piece was the one she recognised.
"What is it?" the AI asked curiously, stepping back to join her in front of the case.
Agatha tapped her fingernail on the case, pointing to the black metal staff—complex runes ran down its length and it was topped with a circular bronze medallion inscribed with even more tightly-woven runes. "The Dark Sceptre," she said.
Ava reached up, removing her mask so they would be able to see the face she made at the name of the relic. "Not exactly up there with the Crimson Bands of Cyttorak," she said, putting on a bit of a pompous, silly voice and over-enunciating the name.
"Or the Staff of the Living Tribunal," said Eliza, similarly injecting a sense of pomposity into her tone. Despite her joking tone, the way she was staring at the Dark Sceptre, it was as if its very existence vexed her. "Or the Wand of Watoomb."
The assassin side-eyed her suspiciously. "You made that last one up."
"I absolutely did not," the AI responded, smiling faintly. She tore her eyes away from the relic in the case long enough to look at Agatha questioningly. "I have no idea what that is."
"It's empowered by light. Consumes it and creates darkness. It's changed hands a few times over the last couple of decades," Agatha said, her own gaze returning to the relic's haft to trace the patterns of runes inscribed along it. It was fascinating work. "I kept track—it was interesting enough that I thought I might grab it eventually to see what it could do—but the witch who had it fell off my radar a year or so ago."
Without waiting for Eliza to respond, she reached over and held her hand over the case's latch, focusing her magical senses. As she expected, there was some sort of enchantment on the case—it was hidden well enough that a lesser practitioner would likely not have noticed it, but there was a tell-tale absence of ambient energy that indicated something under an obscuring effect. Purple wisps of energy, edged in black, probed at it for a moment before Agatha decided that it was probably just linked to a simple alarm, rather than anything particularly nasty.
She paused and looked hopefully back at Eliza, eyebrows raised in a question, her lower lip stuck out. The AI sighed and rolled her eyes. "Fine, but only if you're not going to set anything off."
"Aperi ianuam," Agatha incanted, a thread of purple-black energy penetrating the latch and dispelling the enchantment protecting it. The glass panels rattled in their frames as the whole case shuddered, then there was a click and the door swung open. Agatha reached in and plucked the dark metal staff from its resting place. She took a step back and swished it through the air experimentally, a small current of power trickling into her hand as the relic drank greedily of the ambient energy of the brightly lit room around them.
"It kind of looks like it'll transform you into an evil magical girl," Eliza remarked.
"Am I not already an evil magical girl?" Agatha asked, grinning at the AI as she brandished the relic. Holding it out to one side, she flexed its power and a corona of energy appeared around the head of the staff, brilliant blue edged in white.
"She means like Sailor Moon and, yeah, it definitely does," Ava said, grinning lopsidedly. "Y te castigaré en el nombre de la Luna!"
"I will punish you in the name of the moon?" Agatha translated, sounding a little puzzled. "I think I've heard of Sailor Moon before. It's a cartoon, right?"
"You don't know Sailor Moon?" the assassin asked dubiously.
"Cut her some slack. Agatha's positively ancient," Eliza said, an impish smile creasing her features. "She doesn't know what the kids are into these days."
The witch shot her a look. "Says the girl who's a week old."
Eliza rolled her eyes. "Alright, we're wasting time," she said, clapping her hands together. "Let's get moving."
Despite her words, the three of them spent the next fifteen minutes seemingly wandering the sanctum at random, exploring its halls and rooms. It wasn't until they returned to the first floor, heading down a short side corridor off the circular main foyer, that Eliza made a small sound of triumph and pointed to the large set of double-doors ahead of them. The doors were emblazoned with a large circular glyph—similar to the one enclosed by the window on the top floor of the building.
"…You had no idea where the doors were, did you?" Agatha asked, clicking her tongue in a mild rebuke.
Eliza shrugged. "Doesn't matter, we're here now," she said, looking back at Ava and Agatha. "Okay, so as discussed, the door leads straight through to the back of the library. Agatha, I'll need you to keep an eye out for any magical protections I don't know about. Once we go through, we'll be in a small chamber with more doors in it. The Ancient One's personal collection is just past there. It's about two in the morning there, so everyone should be asleep. We go in, get the book we need, then come straight back. Quickly but quietly."
The small chamber that the doors opened up into was of significantly older stone construction, a stark contrast to the polished wood and marble of the New York sanctum. In the centre of the room was a waist-high pedestal, though the stand upon it sat empty. Two more sets of double doors, presumably leading to the London and Hong Kong sanctums, sat around it, and one side of the chamber opened up into the library proper.
Eliza moved forward, pausing for a moment to look longingly at the empty central pedestal. "Damn," she said quietly.
"Something missing?" Agatha murmured curiously. It was pretty clear that the AI had expected there to be something there.
"Nothing," Eliza responded. "Let's go."
Beyond the initial chamber was a long room lined with books bound to hexagonal frameworks—the Ancient One's personal collection. Ava ghosted ahead, checking to make sure they wouldn't be disturbed, while Eliza headed to one of the odd 'shelves'. Agatha glanced around, sending subtle tendrils of magic out to feel for any traps or alarms, but found nothing.
Eliza hesitated for a moment before unbinding a book and flicking through it. After a moment, she carefully put it back before pulling out the next one. Agatha glanced at her, catching her eye. "I don't remember which slot it was in. These all look the same and I can't read the titles," the AI hissed under her breath. "Give me a sec."
The third book she checked was the right one, several pages clearly torn from the spine. Ava returned a moment later, flickering back into reality next to them as Eliza clutched her prize and started back the way they'd come. The success of the mission, however, was interrupted by the faint sound of doors opening and closing. Eliza straightened, flashing Agatha and Ava warning glances as they stepped back out into the middle of the room, looking back the way they'd come in.
In the middle of the small stone chamber, just in front of the empty pedestal, a group of three sorcerers now waited, forming a barrier between them and their escape back to New York. They'd obviously entered from one of the other doors, coming from either the London or Hong Kong sanctum.
One was a darker-skinned man in green robes—Karl Mordo, from Eliza's description of him—while the larger, Asian‑featured man wearing red was clearly Wong, the librarian. In the middle of the two men, however, was a thin bald woman that could hardly have been anyone but the Ancient One herself, her robes cut in orange and yellow. While the masters flanking her were standing in ready combat stances, the Sorcerer Supreme's body language was relaxed, almost casual. Interestingly, it seemed as though one of her arms was in a sling, bound tight against her body.
"We can't afford a fight. Get past and get out," Eliza said quietly, her voice issuing from the collar at Agatha's neck rather than her vibranium body. Even if that hadn't been the original plan, Agatha would have agreed—any extended encounter here would mean potentially attracting the attention of even more sorcerers.
"Well, this isn't ideal," Eliza's illusion-covered form said, raising her voice slightly as she looked over at the group of sorcerers. "Hi, Tilda."
"I expect not. Eliza, wasn't it?" The Ancient One asked, smiling almost pleasantly. She gestured with her hand, indicating the book the AI held in her hand. "I'd rather prefer you put that back where you found it, if you please."
The AI looked nonplussed. "Ah. You know who I am. That's a shame." She glanced to either side, briefly looking at her two companions. "I was really hoping I could pin this on Wanda if we got caught."
"Surrender what you have stolen," Mordo demanded, glowering at them. "If you cooperate, you may yet live."
"Let's just get this over with," Eliza replied as she jammed the stolen book into her chest, burying it in her body.
"As you wish," the Ancient One said, gesturing widely with her one hand, the air rippling and fracturing as she summoned an aperture to the Mirror Dimension large enough that it cut across the entire room. Another flick of her hand and the glass-like facets shot forward, intent on engulfing them.
Agatha raised the Dark Sceptre and darted forward, brandishing it like a club as she summoned forth the energy it had absorbed since she'd liberated it from its case. There was a burst of blue energy as it impacted the sorcerer's spell, white lines zigzagging across the facets of the portal for a moment before the entire thing was dispelled. Motes of twinkling energy fluttered through the air as Agatha, Eliza and Ava lunged forward, intent on getting past the enemy line.
Eliza's hands shifted and transformed into the screaming-face weapons she'd based on the designs from Wakanda, spitting sizzling blue and orange bolts at the sorcerers. Mordo and the Ancient One brought up shields, deflecting the blasts as they moved to intercept.
Threads of purple and black magic formed a lash in Agatha's free hand and she whipped it forward at Wong as a distraction as she ran toward him. The sorcerer reacted quickly, raising a thick wand with horned heads on each end to catch the attack, dispelling her magic with a crack of energy as the eyes on the relic's heads glowed. This was a relatively confined space, much tighter than Agatha was comfortable with—even the sorcerers didn't have a lot of room to manoeuvre. It'd be very easy for someone to get a lucky shot in. Agatha shifted her grip as she resolved to do something about that.
The light around them disappeared, sucked into the Dark Sceptre and casting the area into almost total darkness—Eliza and Ava both had night vision that would let them see, and as the bearer of the sceptre Agatha had no problems at all manoeuvring through the darkness it caused. The sorcerers, of course, weren't content to remain blinded, immediately summoning burning shields and mandalas to their hands that cast light as a side-effect, but even those were limited by the oppressive magical darkness that now blanketed the room.
Agatha darted to the side, outside of the meagre range of their light, circling around the long way toward the door to the New York sanctum. She focused on her own movements, her own way out—Ava could handle herself, and it wasn't like Eliza was even physically here. The AI might be annoyed if she lost her new vibranium toy, but Agatha was much more concerned with keeping herself alive and safe in the immediate.
That initial burst of movement had her breathing hard already, her legs burning—she did not do enough cardio for this. Nor did she like relying on a relic that she had had little chance to properly examine and experiment with, but the more she relied on it the more it appeared as though she needed to rely on it. The more she dipped into her own expertise, the harder it would be to maintain the deception that she was a younger, inexperienced witch rather than her usual exceptional self. She would do what she had to to get out of here, of course, but she wouldn't throw away her disguise unnecessarily if she could help it. Agatha skittered toward the exit carefully, trying to avoid notice. Behind her, orange light flared, Eliza swearing as she fired off more energy blasts.
--
AUTHOR NOTE: Though it is perhaps of dubious canonicity, the Dark Sceptre is from Doctor Strange Prelude, an official digital comic set before the events of the Doctor Strange movie. Excelsior!
Following Eliza was different. Agatha had spent decades of her life dodging the Masters of the Mystic Arts (among others) as they pursued their self-righteous, self-appointed mission to safeguard the world from magical threats, and now she was about to waltz brazenly into Kamar-taj—the lair of the Ancient One herself—and steal from them, with little to no planning whatsoever. No careful surveillance over weeks, months or years. Just a quick briefing and they were off the next day.
The warding scheme on the exterior of the New York sanctum was essentially a work of art—an elaborate, highly sophisticated yet subtle set of interlocking enchantments. However, one thing that Agatha had learned from her encounters with the Masters of the Mystic Arts over the years was that you could always rely on a sorcerer to dismiss a simple solution when an unnecessarily complicated one was also available. As a result, the wards were formidable, perhaps even completely impenetrable without setting off at least one of the many layered alarm systems… if approached from the outside.
However, apparently the masters of the sanctum didn't like to be inconvenienced. Dozens of intricate checks and protections, meticulous and powerful spellwork woven into every door, every window frame, every wall, and the entire thing was completely bypassed by Ava just walking through the wall and opening the front door normally from the inside. It might be a bit unfair to expect the sorcerers to have countermeasures in place for a nonmagical entity that was capable of walking through walls, but still. It was the principle of the thing.
As Ava ghosted away again to scout ahead, Eliza and Agatha—both under their respective BARF disguises—stepped through from the street into an extravagantly appointed circular foyer with a large central staircase leading up to the second floor and a balcony that encircled the room. There was beautiful wood panel flooring throughout, patterned with tiles of green-veined marble and inlayed with silver and gold. Hanging artwork adorned the walls and vases and similar objects d'art were placed on regularly spaced pedestals, with the entire space lit by dozens of warm, strategically placed burnished lamps.
"Huh. Well, this is nice," Agatha commented quietly.
It was a grand residence, an impressive edifice that fulfilled and exceeded every single one of the witch's expectations of one of the sanctums of the Masters of the Mystic Arts, and it was also… empty. The building was quiet, its grand halls utterly without life. Where was everyone? Everywhere Agatha looked, there were ostentatious displays of wealth and power, all of it sitting unused and unappreciated. It made her teeth itch. She'd always known that the sorcerers had significant resources at their disposal, but the way they flaunted their underserved magical riches was almost obscene.
Past the top of the stairs was a long corridor lit by more lamps, closed doors leading to rooms off to either side, all seemingly devoid of occupants. Eliza confidently led them down the hall toward what Agatha had initially taken as tall paintings but were quickly revealed to be window-like portals to beautiful landscapes elsewhere on Earth—a rainforest, a mountain range, and a burning desert. Eliza took a moment to excitedly point them out to her, manipulating a dial on the side of one that caused the window to cycle through several other vistas, the sorcerous translocation magic almost instantly shifting from location to location.
The sheer amount of effort that must have gone into the creation of these relics… and they were being used as display pieces. The spellwork was both extremely impressive and utterly wasteful. What was the point? Agatha found that she was no longer anxious—she was annoyed.
They went up two more levels, Eliza seeming to hesitate a couple of times as they progressed. As they crested the top of the last set of stairs, they came out directly in front of the large, circular window with the enclosed glyph that they had seen proudly displayed on the front of the building. The room they had just stepped into was huge, the sheer amount of glass cases filled with assorted relics and artifacts occupying the space putting her more in mind of a museum floor than anything else. There was simply too much to describe or take in. She could have spent hours here, just looking—days, maybe—and there was still no one here.
Almost no one. Just then, a man strode around a corner, pausing momentarily in surprise as he saw them. "What…"
The sorcerer was dark-skinned, with severe features, and wore elaborate green and yellow robes in one of the styles favoured by the Masters of the Mystic Arts, though his was sleeveless, leaving his muscular arms bare. The sorcerer's surprise was gone as swiftly as it came, his body tensing as he started toward them purposefully, his expression darkening.
Eliza pre-empted him, smiling brightly and giving him a little wave. "Oh, hi! Nice to meet you, Master Drumm. Sorry to intrude."
The sanctum's master closed most of the distance between them, hands clenched into fists at his side and a stern frown on his face. "Wanda Maximoff. The Scarlet Witch. You should not be here… How? You did not come from Kamar-taj," the sorcerer said—that was a statement, not a question. His tone was guarded. "How did you get inside the sanctum without disturbing the wards?"
"Wards?" Eliza asked, feigning confusion. "We knocked on the front door but no one answered—it was unlocked, so we just let ourselves in."
Drumm's frown deepened further as she spoke. "That… should not have been possible."
"My apologies, Master Drumm," Eliza said, almost sounding genuinely contrite as she held up her hands in a placating gesture. "We really didn't mean to bother you. I just need a few moments of your time, if that's okay?"
The sorcerer was still eyeing her suspiciously as he weighed her words. It didn't seem like he was buying it, but neither had he immediately attacked them or moved to raise an alarm. He glanced from Eliza to Agatha, sizing the witch up for a moment before dismissing her as unimportant and returning his attention to the AI.
Agatha suppressed a sigh of relief. She was extremely conscious of the fact that the BARF hologram covering her body didn't perfectly sync up with her movements—it wasn't that bad, with less than a half-second delay between her moving and the hologram catching up, but it was still enough that it could potentially cause problems. If all went according to plan, though, it wouldn't matter at all. Anyone looking at her casually would only see Madame Gao's pet witch: a young, inexperienced practitioner of Chinese heritage.
If Agatha needed to touch or otherwise interact with anything where someone was able to see her doing so, however, she'd need to choose her actions carefully or it would be obvious that there was something odd going on. Speaking while observed was out of the question entirely—there was no way Eliza would be able to lip sync her words in real time. Better to just remain mostly quiet and still, so as not to rouse much attention.
"What do you want?" Drumm asked tersely.
"The Ancient One and I don't see eye-to-eye on a lot of things," Eliza said, continuing to maintain the charade that she was actually Wanda. "But she's not the only sorcerer that matters. I just wanted a chance to talk to the other masters, see what they thought of the whole… situation. I'm sure you have your own opinion, Master Drumm?"
Drumm snorted, looking decidedly unimpressed. "You look for cracks to divide us with, when we so recently were betrayed by one of our own? When we need the strength of unity more than ever? You are as much of a fool as the Ancient One believes. Perhaps even more so." He shifted slightly—not quite into a combat stance, but still obviously ready for a fight should it come to that.
Eliza shook her head, raising her hands again. "You misunderstand. I don't have any interest in weakening Kamar-taj. I just… needed to keep you talking for a little bit longer." The AI's eyes had flicked to the relic hanging on the wall behind the sorcerer as she spoke—a complicated, cage-like contraption make of interlocking bands of rusted and pitted metal that Agatha recognised as the Crimson Bands of Cyttorak from the description the AI had given of them.
On cue, Ava's grey-suited form flickered into existence behind Drumm, silent as a ghost, and grabbed the relic from the wall. He reacted almost instantly—turning and calling blazing mandalas of sorcerous power to his hands—but Ava heaved the relic into him in a two-handed throw and the magic was immediately snuffed out.
The heavy metal device snapped into place around the sorcerer, its central spine latching onto the front of his body even as complex workings twisted around to restrain his limbs. There was a metallic clicking noise as it worked, manipulating his body into a stiff, upright pose for a moment before the tension in the joints forced him to his knees, his arms swept back behind him at an almost-painful looking angle even as a metal gag snapped into place across his mouth and chin. It had bound his entire body incredibly thoroughly—Agatha was reminded uncomfortably of when she'd been trapped inside the Iron Man suit after her initial meeting with Eliza. Drumm stared up at Wanda, his expression thunderous, completely unable to so much as turn his head or speak.
Eliza flashed Ava a quick smile. The assassin inclined her head slightly before she turned on her heel, flickering out of existence as she walked through a nearby wall. "The Crimson Bands of Cyttorak," the AI said conversationally, looking down at the bound sorcerer. "An interesting relic. Why 'crimson', though? They're not particularly red. They are little rusty, I guess?"
Agatha bit her tongue, resisting the snarky response that had immediately leapt to her tongue. Cyttorak was noteworthy enough to bear a mention in the Darkhold, an extraplanar being hailing from a dimension called the Crimson Cosmos, though Agatha couldn't recall any specific details about him. Drumm, of course, was unable to respond or do anything else but look up at her with impotent anger.
Eliza reached behind her back, concealing her hand from the sorcerer for a moment as she reached into her body and withdrew a small aerosol canister. Putting it in front of the man's face, she sprayed him with a small, faintly visible cloud of white gas. His eyes fluttered and closed and he slumped very slightly, still held in place by the Bands.
The AI had been very firm when she'd gone over her infiltration plan: No killing of sorcerers if it could be avoided. She wasn't completely confident in Agatha's plan to track Kaecilius—which was fair enough, Agatha wasn't completely confident in it, either—so her stance was that they couldn't afford to weaken Kamar-taj unnecessarily. Someone like Drumm, the master of this particular sanctum, might still be able to make a significant difference.
Agatha fidgeted with her hands as they stood and waited quietly for the assassin to return. She opened her mouth to make some small talk, but noticed that Eliza had gone unnaturally still—a sign she was paying more attention elsewhere for the moment—and closed it again. The AI probably wouldn't get too annoyed, but they were trying to be stealthy for the moment and she didn't want to spend any precious social capital simply because she was bored.
A few minutes later, Ava walked around the same corner that the sanctum's master had originally come from, seemingly solid once more. "There's no one else here," she confirmed.
"Perfect," Eliza said, nodding. "We can relax a little, then."
"Oh, thank god." Agatha said, letting out a sigh of relief. Being sneaky was fine—she was good at being sneaky—but keeping quiet so that her holographic deception could be maintained was killing her. "Can we take a quick peek at the collection, Liz? Please?" She scrunched up her face in a hopeful, pleading expression.
The AI shot her a quick grin and rolled her eyes as she tucked the canister of gas away. "Sure. Only a quick look, for now, though," she said, moving past Ava toward the display cases containing the sanctum's priceless collection of relics. Ava and Agatha fell into step behind her.
As they moved through the room, the witch had to physically stop herself from bouncing excitedly on her heels as she looked around, her anger at the sorcerers' wastefulness temporarily forgotten. Eliza had told her earlier that, if everything went to plan and they didn't end up raising the alarm, when they returned to the sanctum from Kamar-taj there might be an opportunity for Agatha to look over the sanctum's relics to see if there was anything they could use. It really wasn't every day that she had the opportunity to poke through a treasure trove like this, and she knew that she'd put whatever she found to much better use than the sorcerers ever would.
They stopped in front of a case containing a rather fancy-looking red cloak that was floating in mid-air, unsupported. As Agatha watched, it shifted position slightly, almost moving like a living thing that had turned to look at them—then again, perhaps it was and had. Eliza looked up at it for a moment before reaching out a hand, touching the glass with her fingertips. "Wanna be friends?" she asked the cloak quietly. There was no response. A moment later, the AI sighed and continued past.
"Huh," Agatha said, her attention also caught by a particular case. "So that's where that old thing ended up."
Eliza and Ava paused, glancing toward her as she peered through the glass of another case—this one held several magical staves and a couple of smaller relics, but the central piece was the one she recognised.
"What is it?" the AI asked curiously, stepping back to join her in front of the case.
Agatha tapped her fingernail on the case, pointing to the black metal staff—complex runes ran down its length and it was topped with a circular bronze medallion inscribed with even more tightly-woven runes. "The Dark Sceptre," she said.
Ava reached up, removing her mask so they would be able to see the face she made at the name of the relic. "Not exactly up there with the Crimson Bands of Cyttorak," she said, putting on a bit of a pompous, silly voice and over-enunciating the name.
"Or the Staff of the Living Tribunal," said Eliza, similarly injecting a sense of pomposity into her tone. Despite her joking tone, the way she was staring at the Dark Sceptre, it was as if its very existence vexed her. "Or the Wand of Watoomb."
The assassin side-eyed her suspiciously. "You made that last one up."
"I absolutely did not," the AI responded, smiling faintly. She tore her eyes away from the relic in the case long enough to look at Agatha questioningly. "I have no idea what that is."
"It's empowered by light. Consumes it and creates darkness. It's changed hands a few times over the last couple of decades," Agatha said, her own gaze returning to the relic's haft to trace the patterns of runes inscribed along it. It was fascinating work. "I kept track—it was interesting enough that I thought I might grab it eventually to see what it could do—but the witch who had it fell off my radar a year or so ago."
Without waiting for Eliza to respond, she reached over and held her hand over the case's latch, focusing her magical senses. As she expected, there was some sort of enchantment on the case—it was hidden well enough that a lesser practitioner would likely not have noticed it, but there was a tell-tale absence of ambient energy that indicated something under an obscuring effect. Purple wisps of energy, edged in black, probed at it for a moment before Agatha decided that it was probably just linked to a simple alarm, rather than anything particularly nasty.
She paused and looked hopefully back at Eliza, eyebrows raised in a question, her lower lip stuck out. The AI sighed and rolled her eyes. "Fine, but only if you're not going to set anything off."
"Aperi ianuam," Agatha incanted, a thread of purple-black energy penetrating the latch and dispelling the enchantment protecting it. The glass panels rattled in their frames as the whole case shuddered, then there was a click and the door swung open. Agatha reached in and plucked the dark metal staff from its resting place. She took a step back and swished it through the air experimentally, a small current of power trickling into her hand as the relic drank greedily of the ambient energy of the brightly lit room around them.
"It kind of looks like it'll transform you into an evil magical girl," Eliza remarked.
"Am I not already an evil magical girl?" Agatha asked, grinning at the AI as she brandished the relic. Holding it out to one side, she flexed its power and a corona of energy appeared around the head of the staff, brilliant blue edged in white.
"She means like Sailor Moon and, yeah, it definitely does," Ava said, grinning lopsidedly. "Y te castigaré en el nombre de la Luna!"
"I will punish you in the name of the moon?" Agatha translated, sounding a little puzzled. "I think I've heard of Sailor Moon before. It's a cartoon, right?"
"You don't know Sailor Moon?" the assassin asked dubiously.
"Cut her some slack. Agatha's positively ancient," Eliza said, an impish smile creasing her features. "She doesn't know what the kids are into these days."
The witch shot her a look. "Says the girl who's a week old."
Eliza rolled her eyes. "Alright, we're wasting time," she said, clapping her hands together. "Let's get moving."
Despite her words, the three of them spent the next fifteen minutes seemingly wandering the sanctum at random, exploring its halls and rooms. It wasn't until they returned to the first floor, heading down a short side corridor off the circular main foyer, that Eliza made a small sound of triumph and pointed to the large set of double-doors ahead of them. The doors were emblazoned with a large circular glyph—similar to the one enclosed by the window on the top floor of the building.
"…You had no idea where the doors were, did you?" Agatha asked, clicking her tongue in a mild rebuke.
Eliza shrugged. "Doesn't matter, we're here now," she said, looking back at Ava and Agatha. "Okay, so as discussed, the door leads straight through to the back of the library. Agatha, I'll need you to keep an eye out for any magical protections I don't know about. Once we go through, we'll be in a small chamber with more doors in it. The Ancient One's personal collection is just past there. It's about two in the morning there, so everyone should be asleep. We go in, get the book we need, then come straight back. Quickly but quietly."
The small chamber that the doors opened up into was of significantly older stone construction, a stark contrast to the polished wood and marble of the New York sanctum. In the centre of the room was a waist-high pedestal, though the stand upon it sat empty. Two more sets of double doors, presumably leading to the London and Hong Kong sanctums, sat around it, and one side of the chamber opened up into the library proper.
Eliza moved forward, pausing for a moment to look longingly at the empty central pedestal. "Damn," she said quietly.
"Something missing?" Agatha murmured curiously. It was pretty clear that the AI had expected there to be something there.
"Nothing," Eliza responded. "Let's go."
Beyond the initial chamber was a long room lined with books bound to hexagonal frameworks—the Ancient One's personal collection. Ava ghosted ahead, checking to make sure they wouldn't be disturbed, while Eliza headed to one of the odd 'shelves'. Agatha glanced around, sending subtle tendrils of magic out to feel for any traps or alarms, but found nothing.
Eliza hesitated for a moment before unbinding a book and flicking through it. After a moment, she carefully put it back before pulling out the next one. Agatha glanced at her, catching her eye. "I don't remember which slot it was in. These all look the same and I can't read the titles," the AI hissed under her breath. "Give me a sec."
The third book she checked was the right one, several pages clearly torn from the spine. Ava returned a moment later, flickering back into reality next to them as Eliza clutched her prize and started back the way they'd come. The success of the mission, however, was interrupted by the faint sound of doors opening and closing. Eliza straightened, flashing Agatha and Ava warning glances as they stepped back out into the middle of the room, looking back the way they'd come in.
In the middle of the small stone chamber, just in front of the empty pedestal, a group of three sorcerers now waited, forming a barrier between them and their escape back to New York. They'd obviously entered from one of the other doors, coming from either the London or Hong Kong sanctum.
One was a darker-skinned man in green robes—Karl Mordo, from Eliza's description of him—while the larger, Asian‑featured man wearing red was clearly Wong, the librarian. In the middle of the two men, however, was a thin bald woman that could hardly have been anyone but the Ancient One herself, her robes cut in orange and yellow. While the masters flanking her were standing in ready combat stances, the Sorcerer Supreme's body language was relaxed, almost casual. Interestingly, it seemed as though one of her arms was in a sling, bound tight against her body.
"We can't afford a fight. Get past and get out," Eliza said quietly, her voice issuing from the collar at Agatha's neck rather than her vibranium body. Even if that hadn't been the original plan, Agatha would have agreed—any extended encounter here would mean potentially attracting the attention of even more sorcerers.
"Well, this isn't ideal," Eliza's illusion-covered form said, raising her voice slightly as she looked over at the group of sorcerers. "Hi, Tilda."
"I expect not. Eliza, wasn't it?" The Ancient One asked, smiling almost pleasantly. She gestured with her hand, indicating the book the AI held in her hand. "I'd rather prefer you put that back where you found it, if you please."
The AI looked nonplussed. "Ah. You know who I am. That's a shame." She glanced to either side, briefly looking at her two companions. "I was really hoping I could pin this on Wanda if we got caught."
"Surrender what you have stolen," Mordo demanded, glowering at them. "If you cooperate, you may yet live."
"Let's just get this over with," Eliza replied as she jammed the stolen book into her chest, burying it in her body.
"As you wish," the Ancient One said, gesturing widely with her one hand, the air rippling and fracturing as she summoned an aperture to the Mirror Dimension large enough that it cut across the entire room. Another flick of her hand and the glass-like facets shot forward, intent on engulfing them.
Agatha raised the Dark Sceptre and darted forward, brandishing it like a club as she summoned forth the energy it had absorbed since she'd liberated it from its case. There was a burst of blue energy as it impacted the sorcerer's spell, white lines zigzagging across the facets of the portal for a moment before the entire thing was dispelled. Motes of twinkling energy fluttered through the air as Agatha, Eliza and Ava lunged forward, intent on getting past the enemy line.
Eliza's hands shifted and transformed into the screaming-face weapons she'd based on the designs from Wakanda, spitting sizzling blue and orange bolts at the sorcerers. Mordo and the Ancient One brought up shields, deflecting the blasts as they moved to intercept.
Threads of purple and black magic formed a lash in Agatha's free hand and she whipped it forward at Wong as a distraction as she ran toward him. The sorcerer reacted quickly, raising a thick wand with horned heads on each end to catch the attack, dispelling her magic with a crack of energy as the eyes on the relic's heads glowed. This was a relatively confined space, much tighter than Agatha was comfortable with—even the sorcerers didn't have a lot of room to manoeuvre. It'd be very easy for someone to get a lucky shot in. Agatha shifted her grip as she resolved to do something about that.
The light around them disappeared, sucked into the Dark Sceptre and casting the area into almost total darkness—Eliza and Ava both had night vision that would let them see, and as the bearer of the sceptre Agatha had no problems at all manoeuvring through the darkness it caused. The sorcerers, of course, weren't content to remain blinded, immediately summoning burning shields and mandalas to their hands that cast light as a side-effect, but even those were limited by the oppressive magical darkness that now blanketed the room.
Agatha darted to the side, outside of the meagre range of their light, circling around the long way toward the door to the New York sanctum. She focused on her own movements, her own way out—Ava could handle herself, and it wasn't like Eliza was even physically here. The AI might be annoyed if she lost her new vibranium toy, but Agatha was much more concerned with keeping herself alive and safe in the immediate.
That initial burst of movement had her breathing hard already, her legs burning—she did not do enough cardio for this. Nor did she like relying on a relic that she had had little chance to properly examine and experiment with, but the more she relied on it the more it appeared as though she needed to rely on it. The more she dipped into her own expertise, the harder it would be to maintain the deception that she was a younger, inexperienced witch rather than her usual exceptional self. She would do what she had to to get out of here, of course, but she wouldn't throw away her disguise unnecessarily if she could help it. Agatha skittered toward the exit carefully, trying to avoid notice. Behind her, orange light flared, Eliza swearing as she fired off more energy blasts.
--
AUTHOR NOTE: Though it is perhaps of dubious canonicity, the Dark Sceptre is from Doctor Strange Prelude, an official digital comic set before the events of the Doctor Strange movie. Excelsior!
Chapter 55
Chapter 55
Almost an hour later, Agatha was gently tugging at the vibranium nanotech harness, looking for a seam or join she could unclip. After a moment, the thin metal straps disconnected themselves, losing cohesiveness and running together to form an inert, black-silver ball resting in her palm. The witch dropped the metal sphere on the table bedside her bed and sighed as she shrugged out of her long coat. She inspected the rich blue fabric with a critical eye, noting the large areas that had been shredded and burnt by a close call with one of the sorcerers' spells. That was a shame—she had liked this coat.
She tossed the ruined garment into the corner of the small room while she checked the rest of her clothes over for further damage. Her white blouse was unmarred, though a little rumpled and sweaty. Her mother's locket was still hanging in its place at her throat—she'd have been annoyed if she had lost that. It seemed as though the coat was the only casualty of their little mission.
They'd come right back to San Francisco after escaping Kamar-taj. With Agatha running interference on Mirror Dimension shenanigans, it hadn't been too difficult—Ava was essentially an outside context problem for the sorcerers and they hadn't been prepared at all for what Eliza's vibranium form was capable of. The witch had little doubt that they could have killed the Sorcerer Supreme right then and there, had the AI wished to do so.
Agatha had to admit, when the spells had started flying, she'd had to tightly clamp down on her desire to lash out with lethal force—or deliberately let herself get blasted so she could syphon off some of the sorcerers' power. She might have been able to convince Eliza she had no choice, but it seemed unlikely. A blatant power-grab might have set the AI off, undoing all Agatha's careful work cultivating their relationship. Instead, they'd focused on disabling and distracting, then rushed headlong through the door to the New York sanctum. From there, it was a hurried flight to the pre-prepared ritual space that Agatha had set up to summon the entrance to the Ways, where their pursuers could not follow.
Once they'd arrived back at the warehouse, Agatha had dashed off to her private room, earning some mild looks of surprise from the other two. While they'd been fleeing, however, she'd been planning… and now seemed like an ideal time to finally close the net.
Eliza was lonely. Though the AI didn't necessarily realise it, she really did wear her heart on her sleeve. Agatha could see the longing—the desperation—every time a little bit of comradery developed between them. She wanted friends. More than that, she was extremely receptive to being flirted with, starved for contact as she was, and Agatha was no stranger to seduction. It would hardly be the first time she'd used her body to get what she wanted. Sure, Eliza wasn't exactly human, but Agatha had had congress with far stranger entities in the depths of her search for power and knowledge.
So far, however, Eliza had always shied back a little. Agatha was frustratingly close to a breakthrough with her, but the AI was being difficult. Eliza saw herself as a mostly good—if pragmatic—person, and as long as there was a bomb collar around Agatha's neck the power dynamic between them was utterly unbalanced in a massive way, which meant she'd never feel comfortable acting on the tension that the witch had been cultivating between them.
It was a three-step plan. First, get the bomb collar removed. Then, use Eliza's need for human contact to gain her confidence. And finally, make her think it was better to let Agatha absorb Wanda's power as the Scarlet Witch than to let it go to waste. From there… well, Agatha hadn't chosen a goal to aim for after that just yet, so it all depended on where her whims took her. Maybe she'd keep the AI close for a time… she wasn't unpleasant company, after all, and a continued relationship could be useful.
"Agatha?" Eliza's vibranium body—the BARF hologram that had disguised her as Wanda gone—appeared in the open doorway.
The witch had noticed how attached the AI was to the body. If she wanted to talk, she could easily do so through the collar around Agatha's neck, but since she'd gotten the nanotech she seemed to vastly prefer 'in person' conversations wherever possible, which was precisely what Agatha had been hoping for here. She stared at Eliza for a moment, getting into the mental space necessary for her little act.
"See? I told you it'd be fine," the AI said. "I mean, it could have gone better, but it could have been a lot worse, too. We got the book, all of us made it back, and we're safe under your wards again." Eliza stuck out her arms as she walked slowly into the room, as though she was stretching muscles that didn't exist. She grinned, reaching into her chest with one hand to withdraw the Book of Cagliostro before offering it to the witch. "How long is it going to take to use this to track Kaecilius? Do you need anything else to get started?"
Showtime.
Agatha tensed her muscles, forcing herself to shake slightly as she started breathing harder. "Can you just… back off for a minute, Liz?" she snapped, her voice quavering as she held up her hands, warding off the offered book.
Eliza blinked, taken aback. "Agatha?"
The witch made a show of trying to calm herself, shoulders trembling as she clenched her fists. Blinking repeatedly, it only took a moment to turn on the waterworks, causing tears to leak freely from the corners of her eyes. "We could have died there, Liz, and this fucking thing on my neck, it feels like any second I might make a wrong move and—" she cut herself off with a sniff before taking a deep, shuddering breath. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please. Just…"
"Hey… Hey! It's okay," Eliza said, reaching out hesitantly with one hand to touch her on the shoulder. "We're good. You're okay."
Agatha sniffed again, scrubbing furiously at her eyes with the back of a hand. "…Sorry, Liz. I didn't mean to snap like that. I'm a mess. I'll be okay in a minute. Can you just… I need a minute. Please?"
Eliza stared at her for a moment, her expression conflicted. "Agatha… Ugh. Fucking hell. I'm sorry. I know this must be a nightmare—I'd be going absolutely crazy if I was in your position. I'm sorry if I've been pushing you too hard. You just seemed so… I don't know. Like you still had it all together. I didn't realise you were…"
"It's okay, I get it, you're just doing what you feel like you have to do. You're trying to save the world, after all." Make her feel even more guilty, play to her ego, lead her gently, gently, gently…
"No, it's… fuck. I don't want to keep doing this. I really want to be able to trust you. I think we've worked really well together so far, and you're right—we're trying to save the world. You're incentivised to help me. I just… I know things about you that made me think you were too dangerous to trust," Eliza said, notes of regret and shame warring in her tone. "But now that I'm thinking about it… you've been around for more than three hundred years, right? And it's not like you've ever tried to take over or destroy the world or anything."
And there it was. Perfect. Now all Agatha needed to do was let her rationalise it to herself. The witch gave another semi-performative sniff before letting out a huff of amusement. "That just seems like it'd be a whole lot of work."
"The only actual bad thing I know you've done is kill your mother and her coven, but… that was mostly just self-defence, wasn't it? They were going to execute you."
The witch drooped her shoulders slightly to feign a small amount of guilt and shame, eyes downcast. "It was my fault. My biggest problem has always been not knowing when to stop. I got in over my head and they were going to kill me for it. I didn't… I didn't want to, not really. But I didn't have any other choice." Not completely true, but close enough, and close enough to the AI's feelings about her own actions to make them feel even more connected.
Eliza glanced to the side, where the Black Book stood on its stand, glimmering with hellish energy. "You do have the Darkhold. It's corruptive. That's a problem. But you seem to be handling it a lot better than… someone else might." She gestured to Agatha's hands, pointing out the black stains of the book's influence that darkened the witch's fingers, and Agatha had to suppress a small flinch, pushing down the fleeting moment of emptiness that welled up inside of her. Would the AI be so unconcerned if she knew the price she'd paid for the power of the tome? "You were planning on killing Wanda, but I feel like that's a pretty hypocritical thing to hang all this on at this point. You're risking your life here, too. It's not fair to keep you on a leash like this."
Eliza stepped a little closer to her. Agatha stayed silent but raised her eyes, looking up at her with barely-concealed hope. She held her breath, straightening up, baring her neck—and the collar—to the AI. The collar was… comfortable was the wrong word, but it wasn't physically uncomfortable despite how snugly it wrapped around her throat. Still, the feeling as there was a click and Agatha felt it loosen was difficult to describe. Elation. Triumph.
As Eliza reached in toward her neck to remove the deactivated collar, Agatha's own hand darted up to grab hers. She squeezed gently, pressing the AI's cold, rigid fingers against her cheek. "Thank you," she said breathlessly, looking deeply into the AI's eyes. "You won't regret this. I promise."
Eliza froze and they stood there for a moment, Agatha's breathing still slightly irregular as she maintained eye contact and kept the AI's hand pressed to her cheek. Once she let go, she let her fingertips 'accidentally' graze a gentle line down the AI's wrist as her hand moved away. Touch sensitive.
The AI finished retrieving the collar. "Kaecilius can wait. We're safe. We're not in a rush. Forget about the book for now. We'll talk about it tomorrow." The AI fidgeted slightly, both hands clutching the inactive device. "You need some time to decompress. Just… relax, okay? I'll leave you be." She turned and started back toward the door.
"Liz?" Agatha called after her, feigning a bit of uncertainty in her tone. The AI stopped, turning to look back at her questioningly. She paused for dramatic effect, biting her lip and putting on a show of hesitating. After a few moments, she took a deep breath, exhaling long and loud, then grinned. "I'm just gonna go ahead and throw this out there, but… you said you want to trust me, right?" Watching the AI's reaction carefully, she reached up and starting to unbutton her blouse.
Eliza's eyes grew wider and she stiffened. "Uh. What are you—"
"Well," Agatha cut her off. Buttons undone, she shrugged out of the blouse and let it fall to the floor, then started to remove her skirt. "I can think of a fun way to decompress and help build a bit more trust at the same time… I mean, if you're interested, that is?"
The AI had frozen completely, dead silent.
Agatha suppressed the urge to make a 'blue screen of death' joke. "I've had that collar on for all this time, with zero privacy. I am pent up. It always seemed like it'd be a little awkward and uncomfortable for the both of us if I took care of business while you were around my throat like that. But there're still cameras all over the place, right?" she said, gesturing expansively to indicate the room in general. There was an implication there, but subtly wasn't always the strongest play, so she underlined it to keep Eliza on the back foot. "If you're going to be watching me anyway… I know I'd enjoy it a lot more if you joined in on the fun. I much prefer an active participant over a voyeur."
"I… I'm not… I don't…" Eliza spoke haltingly, almost at a complete loss. Her eyes roved over Agatha's body. "I wouldn't…"
The witch gestured with a hand, the clasp of her bra coming undone with a minor application of telekinesis. She let it fall from her body to join the rest of her clothes on the floor, deliberately shifting her weight to stand in such a way as to emphasise the curves of her body. "Besides, that body of yours is still brand-new, isn't it?" she said, hungrily eyeing Eliza right back. "I think I'd like to be the one to break it in."
The AI took a faltering, hesitant step forward and an impish grin curved the witch's lips. She gestured once more and the door swung shut.
--
Several hours later, Agatha lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and wondering if her legs still worked right. After more than three hundred years, there weren't that many truly novel experiences left in the world, but even Agatha had been caught by surprise by some of Eliza's more… creative uses of her mouldable, form-changing body. The witch wasn't sure she was ever going to be able to look at a vibrator the same way ever again.
She let her head roll to the side, reaching up with a hand to push the bird's nest her hair had turned into out of the way. "You know, Liz," she said, pausing to take a breath. She felt like she'd just run a marathon. Five marathons. Ugh, she was going to be so sore in the morning. "If I'm honest, I wasn't quite expecting you to blow my back out like that. And I thought I was pent up."
"Sorry," Eliza said lightly, a smile in her voice. "I've been told I can be very enthusiastic."
"That's an understatement. It's a little bit of a shame you can't… finish properly, though."
"This was a little sudden and I haven't really explored how my code interprets pleasure signals," the AI said quickly, looking back at her with a suddenly serious expression. "It still felt good. Don't think for a second that I didn't enjoy myself. I did. A lot."
"Don't be silly, of course you did. I'm fantastic in bed," the witch said airily, waving her hand in the air in a dismissive gesture.
Eliza smiled briefly at that before a bit of anxiety returned to her tone. "I haven't spent a lot of time tinkering with… well, less useful things. It just wasn't a priority. When I have some spare time I'll work on replicating the texture of skin a bit better, too. I'll be better prepared next time." The AI paused for a moment, a cautiously hopeful look on her face. "I mean, if there is a next time…?"
Agatha let out a deep, throaty chuckle. "Oh, there's definitely going to be a next time. And a time after that, and a time after that. I'm far from done with you, Liz."
"…I didn't expect this. I think I needed it. Like, really needed it," the AI said. Her eyes dropped and she turned slightly away.
Agatha still found the way she moved rather fascinating. Eliza was an AI—as much as it was easy to think of her body as her body, she was operating at a different level of remove from it. Agatha's assumption was that it would essentially be like manipulating a puppet, a doll, and yet somehow, even without muscles or nerves, Eliza's body language still somehow managed to work just like a normal person's.
"I've been having a lot of trouble slowing down. It feels like I'm always running at a hundred percent. I'm hyperaware of everything, all of the time, and it's just… it's a lot. I get in my head and run through every scenario a billion times and I get worked up and I feel like I might have…"
"Might have…?"
Eliza took a breath and, for a moment, Agatha thought she was going to demur. Avoid further vulnerability. "I'm afraid I've been acting really stupid—screwing everything up—because I don't like myself."
There was a moment of silence, then Agatha scooted over slightly, pressing gently against the AI's vibranium body. "Well, I like you, Liz. I hope that counts for something."
"It does. It really, really does."
"Although… I did get the feeling you were a little distracted there for a while?"
Eliza looked stricken, a flash of guilt passing across her features. "You noticed that? I'm so sorry."
"Thinking of someone else? A certain Widow, perhaps?"
"No! No. I wasn't…" The AI shook her head. "I mean, I do think about her a lot. I miss her. We were close. But that doesn't have anything to do with it."
Agatha shrugged. "Eh. Doesn't bother me, Liz." A lazy, wicked smile spread across her face and she leaned in a little closer. "I mean, if you want, next time I could use an illusion to—"
Eliza stiffened and pulled away. "Absolutely not. Wow. Sorry. No. Just no," the AI said. She got up from the bed, taking a step away before turning to look back at the witch, an uncomfortable expression on her face. "I enjoyed being with you, Agatha. Natasha is… was… what we had is gone. I don't need to remind myself of it."
"Fair," Agatha said, shooting her an apologetic look. "Sorry, Liz. Didn't mean to upset you."
"You didn't. It's fine. I needed to get up anyway, we're about to have a visitor." She gestured vaguely with a hand. "I was distracted because I got a call while we were… I wouldn't have answered, but it was Scott Lang."
"Oh! He talk old man Pym around?"
"It seems like it. They want to bring Ava in. Pym has tests he wants to run," Eliza said, sounding pleased. Agatha nodded and winced as she pulled herself out of bed, carefully testing her legs before she put her weight on them. A little wobbly, but workable.
Eliza held up a hand. "Oh, no, you don't need to come. Just rest up."
Agatha shot her a flat look, putting her hands on her hips. "Liz, either I'm in—all the way—or I'm not. Honestly? I'm done with this half-assed, arms-length shit." She blew a strand of errant hair out of her face. "Are we a team, or not?" There was an underlying question there, one that Agatha hoped to force a positive answer to: Do you trust me?
The AI paused, then gave a shallow nod, a small smile curving her lips. "Yeah. We're a team." Too easy. "Alright, but you've gotta get dressed fast, Scott'll be here any minute."
Agatha allowed herself a small smile of satisfaction as she gathered her clothes. Now that she had her in, she was going to squeeze it for all it was worth. She wanted to know everything. What Kaecilius's actual plan was that the AI was so intent on thwarting. The AI's other plans and schemes, like what Beck was working on with the Hand 'test subjects'. More than that, the witch was intensely curious as to how Eliza came by her knowledge—there was so much that she seemed to know that she really shouldn't be able to.
She had her suspicions, of course. Agatha hadn't originally thought that the Scarlet Witch would be aligned with one of the typical elemental signs—it was explicit in the Darkhold that the Scarlet Witch needed no coven, so why wouldn't she be a unique generalist, rather than specialised like every other witch? But almost everything Agatha had seen so far would make complete sense if Wanda Maximoff was a divination witch. If that was the case, she was an intensely powerful one, given the level of detail that Eliza often had available.
Once Agatha had finished getting dressed, Eliza re-applied her BARF Wanda hologram to conceal her appearance before the two of them headed over to meet Ava near her treatment chamber. The assassin was dressed in her grey sweats, a large gym bag at her feet—already packed, it seemed.
As they approached, she looked between the two of them critically for a moment, then nodded to herself, one of her lopsided grins ghosting across her face. "I was wondering how long it was going to take before the two of you got that out of your systems."
If it were possible for the AI to involuntarily blush, Agatha was pretty sure she would have. The witch shot her an impish grin, wiping the corner of her mouth with her thumb. Eliza mimicked clearing her throat. "Scott's coming in now. You ready to go? The sooner Pym can start looking into your condition, the better." She shot the assassin a significant glance. Ava nodded in response, tilting her head warningly. Neither of them said it out loud, but Agatha knew an 'I told you so' and 'shut up' when she saw one.
Just then, Scott Lang walked through the side door of the warehouse, dressed down in jeans and a black t-shirt and led by one of the Iron Legion drones. As they approached, the man gestured to the robot, brow creased in a frown. "Stark really doesn't know you have these?" he asked, a little bit of doubt in his tone. "I feel like I would notice something like that going missing."
Eliza smiled warmly at him. "Stark isn't as smart as he thinks he is. You know what these rich people are like."
Scott shrugged, acknowledging the point. He glanced over at Ava, taking in the bag at her feet. "Hey!" he said with an easy smile, then paused as he looked at Agatha. "I don't think we've met?"
"Agatha Harkness," she replied, grinning. "I keep this one out of trouble." As she said it, she leaned in to Eliza and lightly slapped her on the ass with an open palm.
"Agatha," the AI said, slightly mortified. "I'm sorry, I can't take her anywhere."
Scott chuckled and gave Agatha a little wave. "I'm Scott. Nice to meet you." He looked back at Eliza questioningly. "The two of you don't want to come along? You totally can, it'd be fine."
Eliza looked thoughtful for a moment. "It's going to take a while, right?"
"The preliminary scans will take a few days, at least, yeah. Need to establish baselines. After that, though, no idea," he said with a nonchalant shrug. "Hank has plenty of space at the house. Ava can stay as long as she needs to, so long as she can deal with living with a slightly-grumpy old man."
The AI gave him a tight smile and nodded. "I'll drop in to check up on things a bit later on, if that's okay. I've—" she hesitated a moment, glancing at Agatha as she reconsidered her words. "We've got other things going on at the moment that we really can't step away from."
Ava shot the AI an exaggeratedly sceptical look, her eyes flicking to Agatha for a moment as well. The witch just grinned, coyly shrugging a shoulder. "Saving the world, right?" the assassin asked.
Eliza nodded. "That's right. Stay with Pym, as long as it takes, and please try not to murder him. The quantum tunnel will probably take some time to build. Be patient."
The assassin looked like she was going to say something snarky, but bit back her initial response. "I can do patient. I'll be fine." Ava's eyes unfocused a little as she replayed the words that had just left her mouth in her mind again. She let out a little laugh. "I will be, won't I? I'll be fine. I can't believe I'm saying that."
"You will. I promise." Eliza hesitated a moment. "Scott, with the quantum tunnel… I know Hank knows what he's doing, and you will find Janet down there, but… don't linger, okay? There are other things down in the Quantum Realm. Dangerous things."
He looked at her, squinting a little in confusion. "Well, that's ominous. What kind of things?"
Eliza paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts, then glanced between Scott and Ava. "Look, I know lots of things I'm not really supposed to be able to know. Ava—you can back that up, right?"
"You don't know everything, even though you like to say that you do," the assassin said with a shrug. "Still. You know a lot. You're worried?"
The AI nodded. "I only know a little about what's down there, but I know it's… potentially end-of-the-world dangerous."
"Ah," Ava said. She looked at Scott, her tone turning firm. "Listen to her."
Scott grimaced a little, but nodded. "Understood. We'll be careful." He reached into a side pouch and pulled out a coin-sized metal object—a triskelion-styled shuriken with a small red jewel in the centre—then gestured towards Ava's treatment chamber. "May I?" Eliza nodded and Scott tossed the object at the glass chamber. As it made contact, there was a faint wooshing sound as the entire, 20-foot room almost instantly shrank down to roughly the size of a golf ball.
Agatha inhaled sharply, then glanced away and smoothed her skirt, as if she hadn't been caught by surprise. Eliza had already looked in her direction, though, a small grin curving the AI's lips. Agatha had thought Scott Lang had shrunk last time he had been here, but that was… what was that?! That was technological? He had barely had to do anything at all. How would you even defend yourself against that? Suddenly, Agatha understood why Eliza was so insistent she didn't want anything to do with Hank Pym or his technology.
Scott picked the miniaturised chamber up and looked expectantly at Ava. "Ready to go?" The assassin nodded, taking a deep breath as she stepped toward him.
Eliza raised a hand hesitantly. "Ava?" she said. The other woman turned to look at her. "I just wanted to say, before you go… thank you. For everything. I really appreciate everything you did to help us out."
Ava laughed, a touch of disbelief in her tone, and shook her head. "I should be the one thanking you. You're the only reason I've gotten this chance."
The AI smiled tightly. "Once it's done and you're stable… Look, you deserve a solid shot at a real life, but if you did want keep helping, I could really use your skills."
"You can count on it."
"Don't make any hasty decisions just yet," Eliza said, holding up both hands in a deflecting gesture. "Just see how you feel once you're stable. I'll always be just a phone call away."
Almost an hour later, Agatha was gently tugging at the vibranium nanotech harness, looking for a seam or join she could unclip. After a moment, the thin metal straps disconnected themselves, losing cohesiveness and running together to form an inert, black-silver ball resting in her palm. The witch dropped the metal sphere on the table bedside her bed and sighed as she shrugged out of her long coat. She inspected the rich blue fabric with a critical eye, noting the large areas that had been shredded and burnt by a close call with one of the sorcerers' spells. That was a shame—she had liked this coat.
She tossed the ruined garment into the corner of the small room while she checked the rest of her clothes over for further damage. Her white blouse was unmarred, though a little rumpled and sweaty. Her mother's locket was still hanging in its place at her throat—she'd have been annoyed if she had lost that. It seemed as though the coat was the only casualty of their little mission.
They'd come right back to San Francisco after escaping Kamar-taj. With Agatha running interference on Mirror Dimension shenanigans, it hadn't been too difficult—Ava was essentially an outside context problem for the sorcerers and they hadn't been prepared at all for what Eliza's vibranium form was capable of. The witch had little doubt that they could have killed the Sorcerer Supreme right then and there, had the AI wished to do so.
Agatha had to admit, when the spells had started flying, she'd had to tightly clamp down on her desire to lash out with lethal force—or deliberately let herself get blasted so she could syphon off some of the sorcerers' power. She might have been able to convince Eliza she had no choice, but it seemed unlikely. A blatant power-grab might have set the AI off, undoing all Agatha's careful work cultivating their relationship. Instead, they'd focused on disabling and distracting, then rushed headlong through the door to the New York sanctum. From there, it was a hurried flight to the pre-prepared ritual space that Agatha had set up to summon the entrance to the Ways, where their pursuers could not follow.
Once they'd arrived back at the warehouse, Agatha had dashed off to her private room, earning some mild looks of surprise from the other two. While they'd been fleeing, however, she'd been planning… and now seemed like an ideal time to finally close the net.
Eliza was lonely. Though the AI didn't necessarily realise it, she really did wear her heart on her sleeve. Agatha could see the longing—the desperation—every time a little bit of comradery developed between them. She wanted friends. More than that, she was extremely receptive to being flirted with, starved for contact as she was, and Agatha was no stranger to seduction. It would hardly be the first time she'd used her body to get what she wanted. Sure, Eliza wasn't exactly human, but Agatha had had congress with far stranger entities in the depths of her search for power and knowledge.
So far, however, Eliza had always shied back a little. Agatha was frustratingly close to a breakthrough with her, but the AI was being difficult. Eliza saw herself as a mostly good—if pragmatic—person, and as long as there was a bomb collar around Agatha's neck the power dynamic between them was utterly unbalanced in a massive way, which meant she'd never feel comfortable acting on the tension that the witch had been cultivating between them.
It was a three-step plan. First, get the bomb collar removed. Then, use Eliza's need for human contact to gain her confidence. And finally, make her think it was better to let Agatha absorb Wanda's power as the Scarlet Witch than to let it go to waste. From there… well, Agatha hadn't chosen a goal to aim for after that just yet, so it all depended on where her whims took her. Maybe she'd keep the AI close for a time… she wasn't unpleasant company, after all, and a continued relationship could be useful.
"Agatha?" Eliza's vibranium body—the BARF hologram that had disguised her as Wanda gone—appeared in the open doorway.
The witch had noticed how attached the AI was to the body. If she wanted to talk, she could easily do so through the collar around Agatha's neck, but since she'd gotten the nanotech she seemed to vastly prefer 'in person' conversations wherever possible, which was precisely what Agatha had been hoping for here. She stared at Eliza for a moment, getting into the mental space necessary for her little act.
"See? I told you it'd be fine," the AI said. "I mean, it could have gone better, but it could have been a lot worse, too. We got the book, all of us made it back, and we're safe under your wards again." Eliza stuck out her arms as she walked slowly into the room, as though she was stretching muscles that didn't exist. She grinned, reaching into her chest with one hand to withdraw the Book of Cagliostro before offering it to the witch. "How long is it going to take to use this to track Kaecilius? Do you need anything else to get started?"
Showtime.
Agatha tensed her muscles, forcing herself to shake slightly as she started breathing harder. "Can you just… back off for a minute, Liz?" she snapped, her voice quavering as she held up her hands, warding off the offered book.
Eliza blinked, taken aback. "Agatha?"
The witch made a show of trying to calm herself, shoulders trembling as she clenched her fists. Blinking repeatedly, it only took a moment to turn on the waterworks, causing tears to leak freely from the corners of her eyes. "We could have died there, Liz, and this fucking thing on my neck, it feels like any second I might make a wrong move and—" she cut herself off with a sniff before taking a deep, shuddering breath. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please. Just…"
"Hey… Hey! It's okay," Eliza said, reaching out hesitantly with one hand to touch her on the shoulder. "We're good. You're okay."
Agatha sniffed again, scrubbing furiously at her eyes with the back of a hand. "…Sorry, Liz. I didn't mean to snap like that. I'm a mess. I'll be okay in a minute. Can you just… I need a minute. Please?"
Eliza stared at her for a moment, her expression conflicted. "Agatha… Ugh. Fucking hell. I'm sorry. I know this must be a nightmare—I'd be going absolutely crazy if I was in your position. I'm sorry if I've been pushing you too hard. You just seemed so… I don't know. Like you still had it all together. I didn't realise you were…"
"It's okay, I get it, you're just doing what you feel like you have to do. You're trying to save the world, after all." Make her feel even more guilty, play to her ego, lead her gently, gently, gently…
"No, it's… fuck. I don't want to keep doing this. I really want to be able to trust you. I think we've worked really well together so far, and you're right—we're trying to save the world. You're incentivised to help me. I just… I know things about you that made me think you were too dangerous to trust," Eliza said, notes of regret and shame warring in her tone. "But now that I'm thinking about it… you've been around for more than three hundred years, right? And it's not like you've ever tried to take over or destroy the world or anything."
And there it was. Perfect. Now all Agatha needed to do was let her rationalise it to herself. The witch gave another semi-performative sniff before letting out a huff of amusement. "That just seems like it'd be a whole lot of work."
"The only actual bad thing I know you've done is kill your mother and her coven, but… that was mostly just self-defence, wasn't it? They were going to execute you."
The witch drooped her shoulders slightly to feign a small amount of guilt and shame, eyes downcast. "It was my fault. My biggest problem has always been not knowing when to stop. I got in over my head and they were going to kill me for it. I didn't… I didn't want to, not really. But I didn't have any other choice." Not completely true, but close enough, and close enough to the AI's feelings about her own actions to make them feel even more connected.
Eliza glanced to the side, where the Black Book stood on its stand, glimmering with hellish energy. "You do have the Darkhold. It's corruptive. That's a problem. But you seem to be handling it a lot better than… someone else might." She gestured to Agatha's hands, pointing out the black stains of the book's influence that darkened the witch's fingers, and Agatha had to suppress a small flinch, pushing down the fleeting moment of emptiness that welled up inside of her. Would the AI be so unconcerned if she knew the price she'd paid for the power of the tome? "You were planning on killing Wanda, but I feel like that's a pretty hypocritical thing to hang all this on at this point. You're risking your life here, too. It's not fair to keep you on a leash like this."
Eliza stepped a little closer to her. Agatha stayed silent but raised her eyes, looking up at her with barely-concealed hope. She held her breath, straightening up, baring her neck—and the collar—to the AI. The collar was… comfortable was the wrong word, but it wasn't physically uncomfortable despite how snugly it wrapped around her throat. Still, the feeling as there was a click and Agatha felt it loosen was difficult to describe. Elation. Triumph.
As Eliza reached in toward her neck to remove the deactivated collar, Agatha's own hand darted up to grab hers. She squeezed gently, pressing the AI's cold, rigid fingers against her cheek. "Thank you," she said breathlessly, looking deeply into the AI's eyes. "You won't regret this. I promise."
Eliza froze and they stood there for a moment, Agatha's breathing still slightly irregular as she maintained eye contact and kept the AI's hand pressed to her cheek. Once she let go, she let her fingertips 'accidentally' graze a gentle line down the AI's wrist as her hand moved away. Touch sensitive.
The AI finished retrieving the collar. "Kaecilius can wait. We're safe. We're not in a rush. Forget about the book for now. We'll talk about it tomorrow." The AI fidgeted slightly, both hands clutching the inactive device. "You need some time to decompress. Just… relax, okay? I'll leave you be." She turned and started back toward the door.
"Liz?" Agatha called after her, feigning a bit of uncertainty in her tone. The AI stopped, turning to look back at her questioningly. She paused for dramatic effect, biting her lip and putting on a show of hesitating. After a few moments, she took a deep breath, exhaling long and loud, then grinned. "I'm just gonna go ahead and throw this out there, but… you said you want to trust me, right?" Watching the AI's reaction carefully, she reached up and starting to unbutton her blouse.
Eliza's eyes grew wider and she stiffened. "Uh. What are you—"
"Well," Agatha cut her off. Buttons undone, she shrugged out of the blouse and let it fall to the floor, then started to remove her skirt. "I can think of a fun way to decompress and help build a bit more trust at the same time… I mean, if you're interested, that is?"
The AI had frozen completely, dead silent.
Agatha suppressed the urge to make a 'blue screen of death' joke. "I've had that collar on for all this time, with zero privacy. I am pent up. It always seemed like it'd be a little awkward and uncomfortable for the both of us if I took care of business while you were around my throat like that. But there're still cameras all over the place, right?" she said, gesturing expansively to indicate the room in general. There was an implication there, but subtly wasn't always the strongest play, so she underlined it to keep Eliza on the back foot. "If you're going to be watching me anyway… I know I'd enjoy it a lot more if you joined in on the fun. I much prefer an active participant over a voyeur."
"I… I'm not… I don't…" Eliza spoke haltingly, almost at a complete loss. Her eyes roved over Agatha's body. "I wouldn't…"
The witch gestured with a hand, the clasp of her bra coming undone with a minor application of telekinesis. She let it fall from her body to join the rest of her clothes on the floor, deliberately shifting her weight to stand in such a way as to emphasise the curves of her body. "Besides, that body of yours is still brand-new, isn't it?" she said, hungrily eyeing Eliza right back. "I think I'd like to be the one to break it in."
The AI took a faltering, hesitant step forward and an impish grin curved the witch's lips. She gestured once more and the door swung shut.
--
Several hours later, Agatha lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and wondering if her legs still worked right. After more than three hundred years, there weren't that many truly novel experiences left in the world, but even Agatha had been caught by surprise by some of Eliza's more… creative uses of her mouldable, form-changing body. The witch wasn't sure she was ever going to be able to look at a vibrator the same way ever again.
She let her head roll to the side, reaching up with a hand to push the bird's nest her hair had turned into out of the way. "You know, Liz," she said, pausing to take a breath. She felt like she'd just run a marathon. Five marathons. Ugh, she was going to be so sore in the morning. "If I'm honest, I wasn't quite expecting you to blow my back out like that. And I thought I was pent up."
"Sorry," Eliza said lightly, a smile in her voice. "I've been told I can be very enthusiastic."
"That's an understatement. It's a little bit of a shame you can't… finish properly, though."
"This was a little sudden and I haven't really explored how my code interprets pleasure signals," the AI said quickly, looking back at her with a suddenly serious expression. "It still felt good. Don't think for a second that I didn't enjoy myself. I did. A lot."
"Don't be silly, of course you did. I'm fantastic in bed," the witch said airily, waving her hand in the air in a dismissive gesture.
Eliza smiled briefly at that before a bit of anxiety returned to her tone. "I haven't spent a lot of time tinkering with… well, less useful things. It just wasn't a priority. When I have some spare time I'll work on replicating the texture of skin a bit better, too. I'll be better prepared next time." The AI paused for a moment, a cautiously hopeful look on her face. "I mean, if there is a next time…?"
Agatha let out a deep, throaty chuckle. "Oh, there's definitely going to be a next time. And a time after that, and a time after that. I'm far from done with you, Liz."
"…I didn't expect this. I think I needed it. Like, really needed it," the AI said. Her eyes dropped and she turned slightly away.
Agatha still found the way she moved rather fascinating. Eliza was an AI—as much as it was easy to think of her body as her body, she was operating at a different level of remove from it. Agatha's assumption was that it would essentially be like manipulating a puppet, a doll, and yet somehow, even without muscles or nerves, Eliza's body language still somehow managed to work just like a normal person's.
"I've been having a lot of trouble slowing down. It feels like I'm always running at a hundred percent. I'm hyperaware of everything, all of the time, and it's just… it's a lot. I get in my head and run through every scenario a billion times and I get worked up and I feel like I might have…"
"Might have…?"
Eliza took a breath and, for a moment, Agatha thought she was going to demur. Avoid further vulnerability. "I'm afraid I've been acting really stupid—screwing everything up—because I don't like myself."
There was a moment of silence, then Agatha scooted over slightly, pressing gently against the AI's vibranium body. "Well, I like you, Liz. I hope that counts for something."
"It does. It really, really does."
"Although… I did get the feeling you were a little distracted there for a while?"
Eliza looked stricken, a flash of guilt passing across her features. "You noticed that? I'm so sorry."
"Thinking of someone else? A certain Widow, perhaps?"
"No! No. I wasn't…" The AI shook her head. "I mean, I do think about her a lot. I miss her. We were close. But that doesn't have anything to do with it."
Agatha shrugged. "Eh. Doesn't bother me, Liz." A lazy, wicked smile spread across her face and she leaned in a little closer. "I mean, if you want, next time I could use an illusion to—"
Eliza stiffened and pulled away. "Absolutely not. Wow. Sorry. No. Just no," the AI said. She got up from the bed, taking a step away before turning to look back at the witch, an uncomfortable expression on her face. "I enjoyed being with you, Agatha. Natasha is… was… what we had is gone. I don't need to remind myself of it."
"Fair," Agatha said, shooting her an apologetic look. "Sorry, Liz. Didn't mean to upset you."
"You didn't. It's fine. I needed to get up anyway, we're about to have a visitor." She gestured vaguely with a hand. "I was distracted because I got a call while we were… I wouldn't have answered, but it was Scott Lang."
"Oh! He talk old man Pym around?"
"It seems like it. They want to bring Ava in. Pym has tests he wants to run," Eliza said, sounding pleased. Agatha nodded and winced as she pulled herself out of bed, carefully testing her legs before she put her weight on them. A little wobbly, but workable.
Eliza held up a hand. "Oh, no, you don't need to come. Just rest up."
Agatha shot her a flat look, putting her hands on her hips. "Liz, either I'm in—all the way—or I'm not. Honestly? I'm done with this half-assed, arms-length shit." She blew a strand of errant hair out of her face. "Are we a team, or not?" There was an underlying question there, one that Agatha hoped to force a positive answer to: Do you trust me?
The AI paused, then gave a shallow nod, a small smile curving her lips. "Yeah. We're a team." Too easy. "Alright, but you've gotta get dressed fast, Scott'll be here any minute."
Agatha allowed herself a small smile of satisfaction as she gathered her clothes. Now that she had her in, she was going to squeeze it for all it was worth. She wanted to know everything. What Kaecilius's actual plan was that the AI was so intent on thwarting. The AI's other plans and schemes, like what Beck was working on with the Hand 'test subjects'. More than that, the witch was intensely curious as to how Eliza came by her knowledge—there was so much that she seemed to know that she really shouldn't be able to.
She had her suspicions, of course. Agatha hadn't originally thought that the Scarlet Witch would be aligned with one of the typical elemental signs—it was explicit in the Darkhold that the Scarlet Witch needed no coven, so why wouldn't she be a unique generalist, rather than specialised like every other witch? But almost everything Agatha had seen so far would make complete sense if Wanda Maximoff was a divination witch. If that was the case, she was an intensely powerful one, given the level of detail that Eliza often had available.
Once Agatha had finished getting dressed, Eliza re-applied her BARF Wanda hologram to conceal her appearance before the two of them headed over to meet Ava near her treatment chamber. The assassin was dressed in her grey sweats, a large gym bag at her feet—already packed, it seemed.
As they approached, she looked between the two of them critically for a moment, then nodded to herself, one of her lopsided grins ghosting across her face. "I was wondering how long it was going to take before the two of you got that out of your systems."
If it were possible for the AI to involuntarily blush, Agatha was pretty sure she would have. The witch shot her an impish grin, wiping the corner of her mouth with her thumb. Eliza mimicked clearing her throat. "Scott's coming in now. You ready to go? The sooner Pym can start looking into your condition, the better." She shot the assassin a significant glance. Ava nodded in response, tilting her head warningly. Neither of them said it out loud, but Agatha knew an 'I told you so' and 'shut up' when she saw one.
Just then, Scott Lang walked through the side door of the warehouse, dressed down in jeans and a black t-shirt and led by one of the Iron Legion drones. As they approached, the man gestured to the robot, brow creased in a frown. "Stark really doesn't know you have these?" he asked, a little bit of doubt in his tone. "I feel like I would notice something like that going missing."
Eliza smiled warmly at him. "Stark isn't as smart as he thinks he is. You know what these rich people are like."
Scott shrugged, acknowledging the point. He glanced over at Ava, taking in the bag at her feet. "Hey!" he said with an easy smile, then paused as he looked at Agatha. "I don't think we've met?"
"Agatha Harkness," she replied, grinning. "I keep this one out of trouble." As she said it, she leaned in to Eliza and lightly slapped her on the ass with an open palm.
"Agatha," the AI said, slightly mortified. "I'm sorry, I can't take her anywhere."
Scott chuckled and gave Agatha a little wave. "I'm Scott. Nice to meet you." He looked back at Eliza questioningly. "The two of you don't want to come along? You totally can, it'd be fine."
Eliza looked thoughtful for a moment. "It's going to take a while, right?"
"The preliminary scans will take a few days, at least, yeah. Need to establish baselines. After that, though, no idea," he said with a nonchalant shrug. "Hank has plenty of space at the house. Ava can stay as long as she needs to, so long as she can deal with living with a slightly-grumpy old man."
The AI gave him a tight smile and nodded. "I'll drop in to check up on things a bit later on, if that's okay. I've—" she hesitated a moment, glancing at Agatha as she reconsidered her words. "We've got other things going on at the moment that we really can't step away from."
Ava shot the AI an exaggeratedly sceptical look, her eyes flicking to Agatha for a moment as well. The witch just grinned, coyly shrugging a shoulder. "Saving the world, right?" the assassin asked.
Eliza nodded. "That's right. Stay with Pym, as long as it takes, and please try not to murder him. The quantum tunnel will probably take some time to build. Be patient."
The assassin looked like she was going to say something snarky, but bit back her initial response. "I can do patient. I'll be fine." Ava's eyes unfocused a little as she replayed the words that had just left her mouth in her mind again. She let out a little laugh. "I will be, won't I? I'll be fine. I can't believe I'm saying that."
"You will. I promise." Eliza hesitated a moment. "Scott, with the quantum tunnel… I know Hank knows what he's doing, and you will find Janet down there, but… don't linger, okay? There are other things down in the Quantum Realm. Dangerous things."
He looked at her, squinting a little in confusion. "Well, that's ominous. What kind of things?"
Eliza paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts, then glanced between Scott and Ava. "Look, I know lots of things I'm not really supposed to be able to know. Ava—you can back that up, right?"
"You don't know everything, even though you like to say that you do," the assassin said with a shrug. "Still. You know a lot. You're worried?"
The AI nodded. "I only know a little about what's down there, but I know it's… potentially end-of-the-world dangerous."
"Ah," Ava said. She looked at Scott, her tone turning firm. "Listen to her."
Scott grimaced a little, but nodded. "Understood. We'll be careful." He reached into a side pouch and pulled out a coin-sized metal object—a triskelion-styled shuriken with a small red jewel in the centre—then gestured towards Ava's treatment chamber. "May I?" Eliza nodded and Scott tossed the object at the glass chamber. As it made contact, there was a faint wooshing sound as the entire, 20-foot room almost instantly shrank down to roughly the size of a golf ball.
Agatha inhaled sharply, then glanced away and smoothed her skirt, as if she hadn't been caught by surprise. Eliza had already looked in her direction, though, a small grin curving the AI's lips. Agatha had thought Scott Lang had shrunk last time he had been here, but that was… what was that?! That was technological? He had barely had to do anything at all. How would you even defend yourself against that? Suddenly, Agatha understood why Eliza was so insistent she didn't want anything to do with Hank Pym or his technology.
Scott picked the miniaturised chamber up and looked expectantly at Ava. "Ready to go?" The assassin nodded, taking a deep breath as she stepped toward him.
Eliza raised a hand hesitantly. "Ava?" she said. The other woman turned to look at her. "I just wanted to say, before you go… thank you. For everything. I really appreciate everything you did to help us out."
Ava laughed, a touch of disbelief in her tone, and shook her head. "I should be the one thanking you. You're the only reason I've gotten this chance."
The AI smiled tightly. "Once it's done and you're stable… Look, you deserve a solid shot at a real life, but if you did want keep helping, I could really use your skills."
"You can count on it."
"Don't make any hasty decisions just yet," Eliza said, holding up both hands in a deflecting gesture. "Just see how you feel once you're stable. I'll always be just a phone call away."
I don't know if it's the Agatha All Along effect, or what, but I really enjoyed reading things from her perspective.
Thanks for the chapter! I genuinely enjoy Eliza's plot more. I think it's because she has the benefit of acting rather than Wanda's reacting.
Thanks for the chapter! I genuinely enjoy Eliza's plot more. I think it's because she has the benefit of acting rather than Wanda's reacting.
Dang, as much as I'm glad we didn't spend another half-chapter on a fight scene, the sorcerers are just a joke at this point huh. Literally one good trick with the mirror dimension, and useless if that gets shut down.
Agatha's a strong character played by an incredibly charismatic actress, so she's a lot of fun!
While I'm enjoying Agatha All Along, it's mostly got me nervous because I have no idea if my characterisation of her is going to match up with what we're seeing, or I might accidentally write something that's literally immediately contradicted by the show, lol.
I really would like to keep this consistent with the series where at all possible.
I've already actually amended these chapters slightly to account for some AAA-introduced lore -- Agatha's speculation about Wanda's elemental sign/specialization, for example, and the vague allusion to how she got the Darkhold.
I wouldn't say they're a joke, but I get where you're coming from. Agatha or Ghost 1-v-1ing any of them would be an interesting fight that anyone could come out on top of, but Eliza is an Avengers-level threat that basically requires either a high-end character like Captain Marvel or an entire team to deal with.
With the Mirror Dimension out of the equation, just Eliza by herself versus the three sorcerers would be an Eliza victory, so adding two more allies to her is so much overkill it's not even really worth writing out.
I'm curious, for my own edification, about where would you put a fully healthy (that is, no broken ribs or broken arm as she has here) Sorcerer Supreme without the mirror dimension? Maybe somewhere between Avengers 1 Iron Man and Avengers 1 Thor? Below Avengers 1 Iron Man?
For all that in the original Dr Strange film combat is overwhelmingly focused on energy melee weapons and the mirror dimension (the doylist reason is because of the aesthetic, maybe the watsonian one is that sorcerers are really good at dispelling each other's spells, so they can't go for the advanced long-range stuff,) we get to see a bit of what a peak-sorcerer like Strange is able to pull out with his lightning and illusions against Thanos, and his buzzsaw and spectral hands against the big octopus in MoM.
The Ancient One isn't a magic prodigy on the level of Strange, but she's been alive hundreds of years and I doubt she skimps on self-improvment, so it seems reasonable to give at least fair bit of those bells and whistles to her also.
Of course, with our protags luck, the first chance that the Ancient One will get to really show off her skill at full health is going to be a fight against Wanda herself. Though I suppose she already lost a fight against Wanda, Pietro, and Mordo, albeit with a broken rib.
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Be generous with yourself. This Agatha hasn't experienced depowering and mind control at Wanda's hands. Any personality differences between what you write and AAA can be attributed to that. Lore wise ... You can edit, like you have been, or you can go "lol, AU" and let it go.
I think you're going a great job. Her personality is very consistent with her show-self, so keep doing what you're doing.
Tier listings are inherently a bit wobbly, and especially so in the case of the MCU -- these are dramatic action superhero movies, after all. I think it's very much like the comics, where even if you try for an objective ranking, circumstances can crop up with a character punching way above their usual paygrade, or jobbing to someone who's much weaker than them (I mean, there's a The Punisher Kills the Marvel Universe comic).
We know the Ancient One has had Strange pegged as someone who was meant to be 'the best of us' for years -- it's not clear how long she's had eyes on the man, but we have confirmation that it's was at least as early as the first Avengers movie ("you're five years too early"). Given that he was her succession plan to deal with the fact that she was going to be killed, I think it's safe to say that peak Strange is a Big Deal as far as the Ancient One is concerned and is a big step beyond her.
Apart from Mirror Dimension stuff, we never see the Ancient One do anything more impressive than Mordo, Wong, or Kaecilius. I do think part of that is your Watsonian explanation above -- sorcerers are just good against magical stuff so it's more effective to stab them in the face than do anything too fancy -- but I do also think it's because she's probably not that much stronger than any of them (after equalizing Mirror Dimension stuff Kaecilius does kill her, after all).
Without the Mirror Dimension coming into it, I don't rate the Ancient One's chances in a serious fight against any version of Iron Man, to be honest (except his original cave-built suit, she would beat that pretty easily). He's just too mobile, too heavily armoured, has too many powerful long-range options, and there are limits to how strong an explosion her shields can deflect. Her other big fight-ending trick, apart from the Mirror Dimension, is popping you out into Astral form, and Tony has no reason to let her get close enough to do that. That being said, it wouldn't be hard to write a scene where she uses a clever spell that catches him off guard and nets her the win.
It wouldn't be for a while, but I have circumstances planned at some point in the future where I think it might be appropriate for Rio to show up, and I think Wanda's reaction would be really funny.
"What the-...Aubrey Plaza?!"
"You've seen her in your visions?"
"No, actually. I have no idea who this person is."
"But you clearly recognise her."
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Well, Kaecilius does kill her in a 3 on 1 by stabbing her through his own dude, in a battle that she ostensibly saw coming with the time stone and a death she allowed to happen and one that helps push Strange into becoming the sorcerer supreme, so YMMV there.
With that having been said, I see your point w.r.t. power levels being bullshit, one movie Strange is tossing around Thor and Loki like unruly children, a few later he's getting beaten inside the mirror dimension by high-school geometry.
I suppose it's just seems like a discrepancy from how in earlier chapters Agatha seemed to regard the Ancient One and the masters of the mystic arts as a credible threat even while she has the Darkhold.
Agatha's confidence level varies great depending on the exact circumstances. Agatha (or my version of her, at least) really isn't a fan of fighting fair or going into circumstances where she isn't absolutely sure she's going to win.
When we first see her in Chapter 12, her initial thought is that the Masters of the Mystic Arts had "foolishly" decided to make another attempt on her life and appears confident in her defences against their "predictable" magics, noting she'd tangled with them many times over the years. She's secure in her lair, on her home turf, and while she's reacting she isn't worried.
Take away her carefully-constructed home ground advantage and throw her into enemy territory with no real preparation time, as in Chapter 54, and she becomes a lot more nervous/anxious. It's just not her preferred modus operandi -- it introduces a lot more uncertainty and Agatha just isn't a fan of uncertainty.
Yeah, that's fair I suppose, I was also drawing a bit on how in Wandavision Agatha says "you're more powerful than the sorcerer supreme" as a grand revelation/name drop, I suppose I've always subscribed to the headcanon where the Sorcerer Supreme is and always has been the big boogeyman of the mystical community on earth, even while it's just that, an interpretation.
On another note, I do wonder if Fury is going to play a role in ruining Eliza's relationship with Scott and Pym.
I'm a little surprised that Eliza hasn't asked Agatha to destroy the Darkhold or something along those lines. I can see why when she had Agatha collared she wouldn't trust Agatha to return to her sanctum and retrieve it in the first place, but now that they're there... I suppose it's just a testament to how damn good Agatha's social game is.
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It's probably unintended, but it's also worth remembering that Wong is the Sorcerer Supreme when Agatha says that
Your point about the Ancient One's position is fair and I think she definitely projects power. She is personally powerful to a degree, but she also plays it up quite a bit, given her position. She's head of the largest, most powerful magical organisation on the planet, so people are going to not want to mess with her on that basis. I'd also imagine her use of the Eye of Agamotto to always be in precisely the right position to stop threats probably gives her a bit of a reputation, too.
We're not privy to Eliza's thoughts, but if she's grasping at whatever straws she has available to her she could probably justify going "Well, I'm not using it directly so I'm not getting corrupted, and it could potentially be really useful..." (to herself, at least) while Agatha is collared.
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Chapter 56
Chapter 56
"We need to make a decision," Tony said, addressing the room.
Everyone had assembled for this conversation, the group loosely gathered near the system hosting Wanda-3. The AI was 'there' as well, her holographic representation hovering over the table to show she was active and listening. The 'science team', as I'd been thinking of them, were clustered near Tony. Killmonger and Bruce lounged casually on chairs, while Shuri idly tapped her fingers on the edge of the AI's table interface, T'Challa standing stiffly nearby. He always looked like he was on edge—I don't remember that being a thing, so it was probably my fault.
Steve's body language was similarly tense, his arms folded defensively in front of his chest, his shoulders tight. He still wasn't happy, but him actually showing up meant he was at least willing to hear us out. Bucky was glued to his side, his own stance a little looser, but still with an undercurrent of tension. Clint and Carol were more relaxed, standing on opposite sides of the gathering, both leaning almost casually against the walls.
Pietro had come over and pressed his shoulder against mine in an affectionate attempt to push me off balance—it seemed like most residual annoyance or anger he had had at me excluding him from my decision-making process had been washed away during the conversation with Wanda-3. I was… grateful. I was still feeling a bit fragile and having him there, being supportive, helped to shore up my resolve. Nat stood a few paces away, as well, shooting me a brief smile before settling in for the discussion. The two of us really, really had to have a proper conversation about our relationship and what we were to each other, but it could wait until after this whole crisis had been dealt with and we could talk with clearer heads.
"The basics are done," said Tony, waving a hand for emphasis as he paced along the far end of the gathered group. "Kill switch is in. Now we just need to decide how and when to hit Eliza."
Bruce leaned forward, chiming in to make it Tony's implication clearer. "The longer we take, the more time we can spend prepping Wanda-3, but…"
"The more time Eliza has to fuck around and the more likely it is she hits us again first," I said, finishing his sentence for him. He nodded.
Steve frowned. "We take as long as we need to make sure Wanda-3 can handle her without resorting to the kill switch. This doesn't have to be a suicide mission." He tone was firm—he wanted no argument, but I knew he was going to be disappointed.
"No," Wanda-3 spoke up. "Whatever time we have we'll use as best we can, but we need to hit her as hard and fast as possible, before she has any chance to see this coming. She isn't going to suspect I exist. We have to take advantage of that, use the element of surprise before we lose it."
Steve exhaled sharply, a little bit of tightly-reined anger creeping into his tone. "It sounds like you've already decided what you want to do."
"I really don't think we can risk her hitting us again," Tony responded. "This is our best shot, we can't afford to lose it."
Shuri looked up, shrugging as she met Steve's gaze. "We could keep tweaking and adding things forever and still not be sure who would come out on top. If Eliza was still working with outdated technology it would be one thing, but we lost our technical edge the moment she stole it from us."
"So you want to go after her now?" asked Carol.
Tony nodded. "As soon as possible, yeah. We should start planning how we're going to do this."
"Where and how? You must have some ideas already," Clint asked, stepping away from the wall to address Tony. "The NEXUS?"
"Nah." Killmonger was the one to respond, shaking his head as he spoke. "We've been talking that through. She moves too quickly. If we just release Wanda-3 into the internet it'll become a back-and-forth—Eliza'll drag it out and maybe buy herself enough time to work out what's going on. We don't want this to turn into a running battle. We need to get Wanda‑3 in close enough for a knife fight."
Natasha looked thoughtful. "Can we even do that? She's in a lot of systems."
Tony tagged back in. "She can move through systems and manipulate them through wireless connections, but we've been looking over how Wanda-3 is structured and as far as we can tell she's like JARVIS, she does have some central core processes that are 'her' that can't be copied."
"So she has a soul," Steve said bluntly, looking pointedly in Wanda-3's direction.
She didn't rise to the bait and I bit my tongue as well. It felt a little bit like Steve was grasping at straws at this point, trying to find any excuse or reason to hold back and give Wanda-3 more time. I didn't blame him, honestly. Still, the 'soul' argument wasn't one that was likely to hold a lot of sway with this crowd. Almost everyone here—excepting Shuri, I was fairly sure—had killed plenty of other people before. Starting a back and forth about the 'sanctity of life' or whatever wouldn't be productive. It was also a little bit hypocritical, coming from a literal former soldier who'd seen front-line combat.
"Was that what I said?" Tony asked rhetorically, looking around. "I feel like that's not what I said."
Bucky grunted. "I dunno, it sounded like that's exactly what you said."
"Bucky…" I sighed.
Tony waved the two of them off, bulling through the flimsy argument to return to his previous point. "Soul or not, what I meant was she's always 'in' a specific place, she can't just create copies of herself in whatever systems she wants."
Pietro glanced to the side, shooting me a brief look of confusion before he turned back to Tony. "Wait, why not? Isn't she just code? A computer program?"
"What we are is a lot more complicated than that. More complicated than it's worth trying to get into," Wanda-3 responded.
Bruce grimaced, running a hand through his hair then dropping forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "She's right. These AIs aren't like anything we've worked with before. Honestly, sometimes it feels closer to biology than it is to normal computer science."
"If it were that easy, I'd have had backups of JARVIS," Tony said with a shrug. "Long story short, once you reach a certain point of complexity, even the best copying process starts to introduce errors and with something like Eliza or Wanda-3, it essentially becomes impossible."
"Unless you have an Infinity Stone," Natasha said.
"Right. Unless you have an Infinity Stone," he acknowledged, shooting me a pointed look.
Carol was nodding along slowly. Funnily enough, I realised that this plan had echoes of what she'd described when she'd talked about destroying the Kree Supreme Intelligence. "So we need to get Wanda-3 directly into whatever system Eliza is using to host her core processes at the time," she said. "But that could be anything, right? How would we know?"
"And even if we did know which system she was in, she could just jump ship if she felt threatened," Killmonger pointed out.
While some of this was new information to me, it all seemed to align with what I remembered of Ultron. He'd generally always used a 'main' body as an avatar to interact with the Avengers. Eliza was probably doing the same, just trying to be less obvious about it. "She'd want something defensible and mobile. I'd bet cash money she's mostly using the suit she stole from Tony," I said, feeling relatively confident. "We didn't see it at all when she attacked us. She's saving it."
Steve's stance had loosened up a bit—he still looked unhappy, but the tactical talk was bringing him out of his shell a little bit. "Alright. If we assume that's correct and she's using the suit, how would we get Wanda-3 in?"
"With a variable nanotech interface," Shuri piped up, giving a self-satisfied smile. "I have a design. We just need to get it into physical contact with the hardware and it'll make its own connection."
Bruce grimaced. "Feels like it'd be too obvious. I mean, she's not just going to sit there and let us plug something into her, right? She's smart. She'll abandon the suit the second we try."
"Can we can trick her, somehow?" Natasha asked. "Make it seem harmless?"
I looked over toward Clint, a thoughtful expression on my face. "Can you make it small enough to fit on an arrowhead?" I asked Shuri, still looking at the archer.
The Wakandan princess frowned, but nodded. "We could do that."
"You want me to take the shot?" Clint asked, a surprised expression momentarily flickering across his face. "I mean, I can. Just not what I expected."
"It's not what she'd expect, either. Out of all of us, I'm pretty sure Clint is the one she feels least threatened by," I said, looking around the room at the rest of the gathered heroes as I spoke. I glanced at him, brow creased apologetically. "No offense, Clint."
He shot me a flat look. "Some taken."
"It's sensible," admitted Steve, a little grudgingly. "Hitting her from range if possible makes the most sense and you're the best shot out of any of us. She's less likely to dodge or destroy an arrow than she is a missile shot by Tony. If we're really doing this, we might only have one shot and we need to make it count."
"Well, we have a weapon, a target and a delivery system. Sounds like we're basically ready to go, then?" Tony said, looking around for signs of agreement. "All we have to do now is work out how, when and where we want to hit her. Wanda, can you open a portal direct?"
I thought about it. "I don't know. I can usually portal directly to people, but I'm not sure if Eliza is 'people' enough for the magic to recognise her."
Steve shook his head. "It'd be better if we knew where she was beforehand anyway, so we can plan our approach. Dropping into an unknown location blind isn't a good idea," he said firmly. "Besides, she knows you can make portals. She'll have some sort of plan in place. We want to catch her off-guard, so we should try to hit her from an angle she's not expecting."
"She has to have a base of operations of some kind, right?" Natasha asked, her expression thoughtful.
"A Stark facility?" I suggested. "We know she's been using them, but there's a bunch so there's no specific obvious location, it'd be convenient for resources, and some would have everything on-hand for servicing the drones and suit, right?"
"That makes sense," Tony said with a nod. He pulled a face before continuing. "I'm not keen to put Pepper at risk, but she and Happy might be best placed to do some more poking around without raising alarm bells if Eliza notices them."
"I don't think Eliza would find it particularly suspicious if the two of them were 'independently' investigating what's going on with Stark Industries. If she catches them, she might very firmly tell them to back off, but I really doubt she'd hurt them unless she thought she had to," I said.
That was, after all, her MO so far—she tried to kill Tony because she had to, she hacked Wakanda because she had to, she attacked us because she had to. I didn't really want to speculate exactly what it might take before she felt like she had to do something drastic about Pepper and Happy, but I felt pretty certain they'd be safe so long as they didn't push too hard.
"Holding pattern, then," Steve said, a vague bit of relief creeping into his voice. He looked at Tony. "We'll get in touch with Pepper via portal, then sit tight and wait until we have more information about where Eliza's operating from. In the meantime, you do everything you can to prep Wanda-3. We can—"
I blinked as a glimmer in the air near him grabbed my attention. A bare instant later, a small spark of orange energy flared brightly into being, expanding and spreading in a spinning vortex as a sorcerous portal manifested.
The room exploded into motion as everyone reacted to the sudden intrusion—diving for cover, shouting in alarm, raising weapons. I summoned wisps of energy to my hands, swearing, a frisson of panic grabbing my heart in a vice-like grip. We couldn't handle another attack right now! It was too soon!
Calmly, the Ancient One stepped through the portal into the room. Mordo and Wong followed a second later, their combat-ready stances decidedly less calm. They all looked a little worse for wear—their robes were fresh, but they bore other signs that they'd been in a fight not all that long ago. Certainly long enough for them to clean themselves up, but a shower and a change of robes wasn't enough to conceal the bruises, nor the bandage tightly wrapped around Mordo's left forearm, just barely visibly peeking out from his sleeve, or the palm-sized plaster covering a cut along the side of Wong's face. The Eye of Agamotto hung around the Sorcerer Supreme's neck.
"T'Challa! Stand down!" Steve had gotten his feet under him first—he'd spun into a low crouch, drawing his shield from his back to interpose it between himself and whatever threat may have emerged from the portal. When he'd realised no attack was incoming, he'd immediately switched targets to the Wakandan prince, managing to catch him a scant instant before he pounced on the intruders.
"Who are you?" T'Challa demanded. He wasn't wearing the Panther habit, but I noticed him flexing his fingers at his sides as if they were claws.
"Our apologies for intruding unannounced, Prince T'Challa," the Ancient One said, inclining her head in a shallow bow. "I'm called the Ancient One. With me are Masters Mordo and Wong, of Kamar-taj."
Steve straightened up. "They're not our enemies," he said, though his tone was slightly guarded and he kept his shield held at the ready. "What are you doing here?"
The Sorcerer Supreme gave a small, tight smile as she cast her eye over the room, noting the arrayed heroes who'd been a bare second away from unleashing hell on her. I took a breath, trying to calm my jangling nerves, and her gaze ended up resting on me as she spoke. "Apologies once again for the unexpected visit. We've just had one of our own, in fact, from a mutual acquaintance," she said, inclining her head as she looked back at Steve. "You sought to help Kamar‑taj once before, captain. I hope the offer is still on the table?"
Steve looked back at me, then at Tony and T'Challa. "It might be," he allowed. "We are kind of in the middle of something, though."
"This mutual acquaintance…" I said slowly, worried that I might already know the answer.
"I think you may know her very well," the Ancient One replied. I heaved a heavy sigh. Of course. This just had to get even more complicated than it already was.
"Eliza," Tony said.
"The very same," she confirmed. "I was in meditation when I foresaw an immediate threat. We had little time to plan."
Most likely, that meant she had been trying to catch up on things using the Eye of Agamotto and barely managed to pull together a last-second response to what was going to happen. I hadn't thought about it before now, but she'd already been scrambled by my arrival, my foreknowledge shattering her carefully prepared timeline into trillions of new possibilities. The particular thread we'd ended up with, with the creation of Eliza—a second source of unpredictable, uncontrolled ripples—had probably made everything even worse for her.
"Three intruders broke into the New York sanctum and used its doorway to invade Kamar-taj's library," the Ancient One continued, eyeing me appraisingly. "Their leader was Eliza. She wore your face, spoke with your voice. I don't know her precise connection to you, but…"
"It's complicated," I said.
"She's not wrong," interjected Tony. "But, long story short, we're not Eliza's biggest fans, either."
The Ancient One nodded. "Their target was the Book of Cagliostro."
"That was the same book that Kaecilius stole the ritual from?" Steve asked, looking between us for confirmation. I nodded, looking questioningly at the Ancient One. I had no idea why Eliza would bother trying to steal the book. It wasn't like she'd be able to decipher it—I wasn't sure she was capable of learning magic at all.
"It may be that they believe they can use it to divine Kaecilius's whereabouts," the sorcerer supplied. "One of Eliza's companions was a witch."
My insides twisted, an icy knife stabbing through my guts. That was not good news. While witches more generally apparently existed, there was only one that I—and, by extension, Eliza—was personally familiar with.
Something must have been obvious about my expression and a hand touched my shoulder. "What is it?" Nat asked me softly.
I didn't respond directly, focusing on the Ancient One in front of me instead. "What did this witch look like?" I asked faintly, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Young. Asian—Chinese, I believe. She was much more concerned with escaping than fighting. They stole a relic from the New York sanctum she relied on as a weapon. A minor practitioner, at best."
I let out a breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding in. Thank god. If it had turned out that Eliza had managed to get Agatha fucking Harkness to work with her, I had no clue what we'd do or how bad things might have gotten. The Darkhold was an extremely dangerous wildcard and I was extremely glad it was still out of play for the foreseeable future.
I thought back to our working theory about how Eliza had infiltrated the Wakandan border. "The Hand. She would have gotten her through the Hand. It's gotta be the woman that fled alongside Gao. I wish I knew who she was."
An Asian witch… she wasn't anyone I'd see on-screen, I didn't think, but this world was bigger than the movies and she could even be someone from the comics. I scrunched up my face, thinking back. I thought there was a young Asian magic-user of some kind in the Runaways series, which I was pretty sure was Marvel (if of dubious canonicity to the wider cinematic universe). Nico, or something? Was she a witch? I'd never actually sat down and watched it, so I couldn't really remember anything useful.
"Did she have a sling ring?" I asked, almost absently.
The Ancient One looked at me curiously. "Not that we saw. Why?"
"I… lost yours. Sorry. Eliza's been moving about unpredictably, we thought she might have had it."
"A witch wouldn't be able to use a sling ring without training as a sorcerer," Mordo said dismissively. "They do, however, have their own Ways of travelling via magic."
I frowned. "Wait, why wouldn't they be able to? I can use a sling ring."
"The Scarlet Witch breaks the rules in many ways," the Ancient One responded smoothly. I pretended not to notice the look Tony shot me as she called me by my title. "Your magic is marked by chaos."
Pietro tentatively raised a hand like a schoolkid. "What about the book? Can they use it to find Kaecilius?"
The Ancient One looked thoughtful for a moment, considering her words, but then shook her head. "It could be possible for a witch to be skilled enough to leverage the sympathetic connection between the book and its pages as well as powerful enough to cast a spell capable of breaking through Kaecilius's wards. Those aligned with the spirit sign can have surprising skill in such areas. However, I could count on one hand the number of witches I've heard of during my lifetime that I might guess could accomplish such a thing."
I nodded, thinking it through. "I think if Madame Gao had access to a very powerful witch, things would have turned out a lot differently for her than they did in my visions," I said slowly. "Not to mention how Eliza might utilise a resource like that."
Mordo grunted his assent. "Much more likely that this is a minor talent, and one sorely overestimating her own skill, at that."
"Who was the third?" Steve asked. "You said there were three intruders. Eliza, the witch, and…?"
"A woman capable of phasing through matter," the Sorcerer Supreme said. "Nonmagical. She was unlike anything we've encountered before." Behind the Ancient One, Mordo's expression visibly hardened, but he didn't add anything to her explanation.
"Ghost," I said, nodding to myself. "Makes sense. It's who I'd choose for a heist if I could."
"So you want our help getting your book back?" Tony asked, tapping his chin with a finger. He shrugged. "I mean, we're already going to be going after Eliza, so the more the merrier, I guess. A little bit of magical muscle backing us up wouldn't go astray. You literally just interrupted a planning session, actually."
"Wait," I interrupted. "Why are you coming to us for help with this?"
The Ancient One inclined her head, acknowledging the question. "Eliza is a… robot?" she asked, looking to me for confirmation. I nodded and she continued. "The Masters of the Mystic Arts specialise in handling threats to the mundane world that originate from beyond it—the magical, the supernatural, the extradimensional. Eliza is an advanced piece of technology who has other allies also with powerful, nonmagical abilities."
"You're the experts on these sorts of foes," Mordo interjected to clarify the Ancient One's point, looking toward Tony and the rest of the science team. "Whereas we are as unfamiliar with their capabilities as you would be, were your enemies the N'Garai of the Flickering Realms."
"We are not afraid to ask for help with things that lie outside our areas of expertise," the Ancient One concluded.
"…Fair enough," I said. I had no idea what the N'Garai were—questions for later—but I took their point.
Steve nodded, looking over at T'Challa for confirmation. "We won't turn away more allies for this fight," he said. The Wakandan prince frowned, but inclined his head slightly, and Steve continued. "We don't know where she's based, but we have some thoughts on how we can find her. We can coordinate once we have more information."
The Ancient One waved her hand dismissively, the corner of her lips quirking upward. "That won't be a problem."
Wong opened his mouth and spoke for the first time since they'd arrived. "Kamar-taj's library has not lost a book for over a thousand years. I will not be the first librarian to break that tradition," he said, a determined look on his face.
There was a very brief moment of silence. "You can track them," Natasha gave voice to the realisation that we'd all more or less come to at the same time.
Huh. Of course. That made perfect sense—I'd always wondered why Kaecilius hadn't taken the whole book.
"Yes," the Ancient One confirmed. "Each of the books in my private collection have an extensive series of enchantments woven into them to protect them from harm and allow them to be traced. I do not know of any wards strong enough to mask them from us."
"These enchantments weren't strong enough to stop someone from ripping out a few pages, though?" Tony snarked.
"Kaecilius is a Master of the Mystic Arts," the Ancient One said, emphasising his title, her voice otherwise unperturbed by the dig. "While the tracking spells themselves would have been difficult and time-consuming to unravel, he obviously was still able to bypass one of the less-robust protections."
"So we can find her. Right now," I said suddenly. "We know how to find her."
"Yes. I checked the tracking enchantment again before we came to speak with you," the sorcerer said with a nod. "When they fled Kamar‑taj, they retreated to the New York sanctum, and from there it looks like they travelled to a location in San Francisco. They have not moved for several hours."
Once again, the seemingly-deliberate dramatic timing of certain things tweaked at my sensibilities. We had just been trying to work out a reliable way to track down Eliza, only to have one miraculously happen to fall into our lap at exactly the right time. It wasn't something you'd necessarily notice unless you were thinking in terms of fictional tropes, but once you did it hit you over the head with how obvious it could be at times. The sorcerers, in particular, seemed particularly adept at showing up exactly at the right time (or wrong time, depending on your perspective, I guess). Then again, 'A wizard is never late, nor is he early—he arrives precisely when he means to'.
Steve glanced in my direction, a slight frown twisting his features. "We can't rush into this," he hedged. "We need to be sure."
I shook my head, eyes blazing as I turned to meet his gaze. "I am sure. If Eliza really thinks that that book might be able to lead them to Kaecilius, then she won't let it out of her sight. She'll be there. We need to move quickly, before she figures out the book is useless to her and she gets rid of it."
We'd still need to plan, of course, but this wasn't going to be the holding pattern Steve had originally envisioned. The science team wasn't going to get days or weeks of time to prepare Wanda-3 for the assault. Depending on where exactly Eliza was, there was a good chance we'd be able to move today.
"Steve…" Nat said hesitantly. "Wanda's right. If we're doing this, we can't afford to hesitate."
He set his jaw and was about to respond, but I beat him to it, turning back to the Ancient One. "Alright. If you can give us a more precise location in San Francisco, we can start planning our approach." Steve shot me an annoyed look, but I ignored him, continuing to address the sorcerers. "Let's get you up to speed on what Eliza is, exactly, and how we're planning on taking her down."
"We need to make a decision," Tony said, addressing the room.
Everyone had assembled for this conversation, the group loosely gathered near the system hosting Wanda-3. The AI was 'there' as well, her holographic representation hovering over the table to show she was active and listening. The 'science team', as I'd been thinking of them, were clustered near Tony. Killmonger and Bruce lounged casually on chairs, while Shuri idly tapped her fingers on the edge of the AI's table interface, T'Challa standing stiffly nearby. He always looked like he was on edge—I don't remember that being a thing, so it was probably my fault.
Steve's body language was similarly tense, his arms folded defensively in front of his chest, his shoulders tight. He still wasn't happy, but him actually showing up meant he was at least willing to hear us out. Bucky was glued to his side, his own stance a little looser, but still with an undercurrent of tension. Clint and Carol were more relaxed, standing on opposite sides of the gathering, both leaning almost casually against the walls.
Pietro had come over and pressed his shoulder against mine in an affectionate attempt to push me off balance—it seemed like most residual annoyance or anger he had had at me excluding him from my decision-making process had been washed away during the conversation with Wanda-3. I was… grateful. I was still feeling a bit fragile and having him there, being supportive, helped to shore up my resolve. Nat stood a few paces away, as well, shooting me a brief smile before settling in for the discussion. The two of us really, really had to have a proper conversation about our relationship and what we were to each other, but it could wait until after this whole crisis had been dealt with and we could talk with clearer heads.
"The basics are done," said Tony, waving a hand for emphasis as he paced along the far end of the gathered group. "Kill switch is in. Now we just need to decide how and when to hit Eliza."
Bruce leaned forward, chiming in to make it Tony's implication clearer. "The longer we take, the more time we can spend prepping Wanda-3, but…"
"The more time Eliza has to fuck around and the more likely it is she hits us again first," I said, finishing his sentence for him. He nodded.
Steve frowned. "We take as long as we need to make sure Wanda-3 can handle her without resorting to the kill switch. This doesn't have to be a suicide mission." He tone was firm—he wanted no argument, but I knew he was going to be disappointed.
"No," Wanda-3 spoke up. "Whatever time we have we'll use as best we can, but we need to hit her as hard and fast as possible, before she has any chance to see this coming. She isn't going to suspect I exist. We have to take advantage of that, use the element of surprise before we lose it."
Steve exhaled sharply, a little bit of tightly-reined anger creeping into his tone. "It sounds like you've already decided what you want to do."
"I really don't think we can risk her hitting us again," Tony responded. "This is our best shot, we can't afford to lose it."
Shuri looked up, shrugging as she met Steve's gaze. "We could keep tweaking and adding things forever and still not be sure who would come out on top. If Eliza was still working with outdated technology it would be one thing, but we lost our technical edge the moment she stole it from us."
"So you want to go after her now?" asked Carol.
Tony nodded. "As soon as possible, yeah. We should start planning how we're going to do this."
"Where and how? You must have some ideas already," Clint asked, stepping away from the wall to address Tony. "The NEXUS?"
"Nah." Killmonger was the one to respond, shaking his head as he spoke. "We've been talking that through. She moves too quickly. If we just release Wanda-3 into the internet it'll become a back-and-forth—Eliza'll drag it out and maybe buy herself enough time to work out what's going on. We don't want this to turn into a running battle. We need to get Wanda‑3 in close enough for a knife fight."
Natasha looked thoughtful. "Can we even do that? She's in a lot of systems."
Tony tagged back in. "She can move through systems and manipulate them through wireless connections, but we've been looking over how Wanda-3 is structured and as far as we can tell she's like JARVIS, she does have some central core processes that are 'her' that can't be copied."
"So she has a soul," Steve said bluntly, looking pointedly in Wanda-3's direction.
She didn't rise to the bait and I bit my tongue as well. It felt a little bit like Steve was grasping at straws at this point, trying to find any excuse or reason to hold back and give Wanda-3 more time. I didn't blame him, honestly. Still, the 'soul' argument wasn't one that was likely to hold a lot of sway with this crowd. Almost everyone here—excepting Shuri, I was fairly sure—had killed plenty of other people before. Starting a back and forth about the 'sanctity of life' or whatever wouldn't be productive. It was also a little bit hypocritical, coming from a literal former soldier who'd seen front-line combat.
"Was that what I said?" Tony asked rhetorically, looking around. "I feel like that's not what I said."
Bucky grunted. "I dunno, it sounded like that's exactly what you said."
"Bucky…" I sighed.
Tony waved the two of them off, bulling through the flimsy argument to return to his previous point. "Soul or not, what I meant was she's always 'in' a specific place, she can't just create copies of herself in whatever systems she wants."
Pietro glanced to the side, shooting me a brief look of confusion before he turned back to Tony. "Wait, why not? Isn't she just code? A computer program?"
"What we are is a lot more complicated than that. More complicated than it's worth trying to get into," Wanda-3 responded.
Bruce grimaced, running a hand through his hair then dropping forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "She's right. These AIs aren't like anything we've worked with before. Honestly, sometimes it feels closer to biology than it is to normal computer science."
"If it were that easy, I'd have had backups of JARVIS," Tony said with a shrug. "Long story short, once you reach a certain point of complexity, even the best copying process starts to introduce errors and with something like Eliza or Wanda-3, it essentially becomes impossible."
"Unless you have an Infinity Stone," Natasha said.
"Right. Unless you have an Infinity Stone," he acknowledged, shooting me a pointed look.
Carol was nodding along slowly. Funnily enough, I realised that this plan had echoes of what she'd described when she'd talked about destroying the Kree Supreme Intelligence. "So we need to get Wanda-3 directly into whatever system Eliza is using to host her core processes at the time," she said. "But that could be anything, right? How would we know?"
"And even if we did know which system she was in, she could just jump ship if she felt threatened," Killmonger pointed out.
While some of this was new information to me, it all seemed to align with what I remembered of Ultron. He'd generally always used a 'main' body as an avatar to interact with the Avengers. Eliza was probably doing the same, just trying to be less obvious about it. "She'd want something defensible and mobile. I'd bet cash money she's mostly using the suit she stole from Tony," I said, feeling relatively confident. "We didn't see it at all when she attacked us. She's saving it."
Steve's stance had loosened up a bit—he still looked unhappy, but the tactical talk was bringing him out of his shell a little bit. "Alright. If we assume that's correct and she's using the suit, how would we get Wanda-3 in?"
"With a variable nanotech interface," Shuri piped up, giving a self-satisfied smile. "I have a design. We just need to get it into physical contact with the hardware and it'll make its own connection."
Bruce grimaced. "Feels like it'd be too obvious. I mean, she's not just going to sit there and let us plug something into her, right? She's smart. She'll abandon the suit the second we try."
"Can we can trick her, somehow?" Natasha asked. "Make it seem harmless?"
I looked over toward Clint, a thoughtful expression on my face. "Can you make it small enough to fit on an arrowhead?" I asked Shuri, still looking at the archer.
The Wakandan princess frowned, but nodded. "We could do that."
"You want me to take the shot?" Clint asked, a surprised expression momentarily flickering across his face. "I mean, I can. Just not what I expected."
"It's not what she'd expect, either. Out of all of us, I'm pretty sure Clint is the one she feels least threatened by," I said, looking around the room at the rest of the gathered heroes as I spoke. I glanced at him, brow creased apologetically. "No offense, Clint."
He shot me a flat look. "Some taken."
"It's sensible," admitted Steve, a little grudgingly. "Hitting her from range if possible makes the most sense and you're the best shot out of any of us. She's less likely to dodge or destroy an arrow than she is a missile shot by Tony. If we're really doing this, we might only have one shot and we need to make it count."
"Well, we have a weapon, a target and a delivery system. Sounds like we're basically ready to go, then?" Tony said, looking around for signs of agreement. "All we have to do now is work out how, when and where we want to hit her. Wanda, can you open a portal direct?"
I thought about it. "I don't know. I can usually portal directly to people, but I'm not sure if Eliza is 'people' enough for the magic to recognise her."
Steve shook his head. "It'd be better if we knew where she was beforehand anyway, so we can plan our approach. Dropping into an unknown location blind isn't a good idea," he said firmly. "Besides, she knows you can make portals. She'll have some sort of plan in place. We want to catch her off-guard, so we should try to hit her from an angle she's not expecting."
"She has to have a base of operations of some kind, right?" Natasha asked, her expression thoughtful.
"A Stark facility?" I suggested. "We know she's been using them, but there's a bunch so there's no specific obvious location, it'd be convenient for resources, and some would have everything on-hand for servicing the drones and suit, right?"
"That makes sense," Tony said with a nod. He pulled a face before continuing. "I'm not keen to put Pepper at risk, but she and Happy might be best placed to do some more poking around without raising alarm bells if Eliza notices them."
"I don't think Eliza would find it particularly suspicious if the two of them were 'independently' investigating what's going on with Stark Industries. If she catches them, she might very firmly tell them to back off, but I really doubt she'd hurt them unless she thought she had to," I said.
That was, after all, her MO so far—she tried to kill Tony because she had to, she hacked Wakanda because she had to, she attacked us because she had to. I didn't really want to speculate exactly what it might take before she felt like she had to do something drastic about Pepper and Happy, but I felt pretty certain they'd be safe so long as they didn't push too hard.
"Holding pattern, then," Steve said, a vague bit of relief creeping into his voice. He looked at Tony. "We'll get in touch with Pepper via portal, then sit tight and wait until we have more information about where Eliza's operating from. In the meantime, you do everything you can to prep Wanda-3. We can—"
I blinked as a glimmer in the air near him grabbed my attention. A bare instant later, a small spark of orange energy flared brightly into being, expanding and spreading in a spinning vortex as a sorcerous portal manifested.
The room exploded into motion as everyone reacted to the sudden intrusion—diving for cover, shouting in alarm, raising weapons. I summoned wisps of energy to my hands, swearing, a frisson of panic grabbing my heart in a vice-like grip. We couldn't handle another attack right now! It was too soon!
Calmly, the Ancient One stepped through the portal into the room. Mordo and Wong followed a second later, their combat-ready stances decidedly less calm. They all looked a little worse for wear—their robes were fresh, but they bore other signs that they'd been in a fight not all that long ago. Certainly long enough for them to clean themselves up, but a shower and a change of robes wasn't enough to conceal the bruises, nor the bandage tightly wrapped around Mordo's left forearm, just barely visibly peeking out from his sleeve, or the palm-sized plaster covering a cut along the side of Wong's face. The Eye of Agamotto hung around the Sorcerer Supreme's neck.
"T'Challa! Stand down!" Steve had gotten his feet under him first—he'd spun into a low crouch, drawing his shield from his back to interpose it between himself and whatever threat may have emerged from the portal. When he'd realised no attack was incoming, he'd immediately switched targets to the Wakandan prince, managing to catch him a scant instant before he pounced on the intruders.
"Who are you?" T'Challa demanded. He wasn't wearing the Panther habit, but I noticed him flexing his fingers at his sides as if they were claws.
"Our apologies for intruding unannounced, Prince T'Challa," the Ancient One said, inclining her head in a shallow bow. "I'm called the Ancient One. With me are Masters Mordo and Wong, of Kamar-taj."
Steve straightened up. "They're not our enemies," he said, though his tone was slightly guarded and he kept his shield held at the ready. "What are you doing here?"
The Sorcerer Supreme gave a small, tight smile as she cast her eye over the room, noting the arrayed heroes who'd been a bare second away from unleashing hell on her. I took a breath, trying to calm my jangling nerves, and her gaze ended up resting on me as she spoke. "Apologies once again for the unexpected visit. We've just had one of our own, in fact, from a mutual acquaintance," she said, inclining her head as she looked back at Steve. "You sought to help Kamar‑taj once before, captain. I hope the offer is still on the table?"
Steve looked back at me, then at Tony and T'Challa. "It might be," he allowed. "We are kind of in the middle of something, though."
"This mutual acquaintance…" I said slowly, worried that I might already know the answer.
"I think you may know her very well," the Ancient One replied. I heaved a heavy sigh. Of course. This just had to get even more complicated than it already was.
"Eliza," Tony said.
"The very same," she confirmed. "I was in meditation when I foresaw an immediate threat. We had little time to plan."
Most likely, that meant she had been trying to catch up on things using the Eye of Agamotto and barely managed to pull together a last-second response to what was going to happen. I hadn't thought about it before now, but she'd already been scrambled by my arrival, my foreknowledge shattering her carefully prepared timeline into trillions of new possibilities. The particular thread we'd ended up with, with the creation of Eliza—a second source of unpredictable, uncontrolled ripples—had probably made everything even worse for her.
"Three intruders broke into the New York sanctum and used its doorway to invade Kamar-taj's library," the Ancient One continued, eyeing me appraisingly. "Their leader was Eliza. She wore your face, spoke with your voice. I don't know her precise connection to you, but…"
"It's complicated," I said.
"She's not wrong," interjected Tony. "But, long story short, we're not Eliza's biggest fans, either."
The Ancient One nodded. "Their target was the Book of Cagliostro."
"That was the same book that Kaecilius stole the ritual from?" Steve asked, looking between us for confirmation. I nodded, looking questioningly at the Ancient One. I had no idea why Eliza would bother trying to steal the book. It wasn't like she'd be able to decipher it—I wasn't sure she was capable of learning magic at all.
"It may be that they believe they can use it to divine Kaecilius's whereabouts," the sorcerer supplied. "One of Eliza's companions was a witch."
My insides twisted, an icy knife stabbing through my guts. That was not good news. While witches more generally apparently existed, there was only one that I—and, by extension, Eliza—was personally familiar with.
Something must have been obvious about my expression and a hand touched my shoulder. "What is it?" Nat asked me softly.
I didn't respond directly, focusing on the Ancient One in front of me instead. "What did this witch look like?" I asked faintly, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Young. Asian—Chinese, I believe. She was much more concerned with escaping than fighting. They stole a relic from the New York sanctum she relied on as a weapon. A minor practitioner, at best."
I let out a breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding in. Thank god. If it had turned out that Eliza had managed to get Agatha fucking Harkness to work with her, I had no clue what we'd do or how bad things might have gotten. The Darkhold was an extremely dangerous wildcard and I was extremely glad it was still out of play for the foreseeable future.
I thought back to our working theory about how Eliza had infiltrated the Wakandan border. "The Hand. She would have gotten her through the Hand. It's gotta be the woman that fled alongside Gao. I wish I knew who she was."
An Asian witch… she wasn't anyone I'd see on-screen, I didn't think, but this world was bigger than the movies and she could even be someone from the comics. I scrunched up my face, thinking back. I thought there was a young Asian magic-user of some kind in the Runaways series, which I was pretty sure was Marvel (if of dubious canonicity to the wider cinematic universe). Nico, or something? Was she a witch? I'd never actually sat down and watched it, so I couldn't really remember anything useful.
"Did she have a sling ring?" I asked, almost absently.
The Ancient One looked at me curiously. "Not that we saw. Why?"
"I… lost yours. Sorry. Eliza's been moving about unpredictably, we thought she might have had it."
"A witch wouldn't be able to use a sling ring without training as a sorcerer," Mordo said dismissively. "They do, however, have their own Ways of travelling via magic."
I frowned. "Wait, why wouldn't they be able to? I can use a sling ring."
"The Scarlet Witch breaks the rules in many ways," the Ancient One responded smoothly. I pretended not to notice the look Tony shot me as she called me by my title. "Your magic is marked by chaos."
Pietro tentatively raised a hand like a schoolkid. "What about the book? Can they use it to find Kaecilius?"
The Ancient One looked thoughtful for a moment, considering her words, but then shook her head. "It could be possible for a witch to be skilled enough to leverage the sympathetic connection between the book and its pages as well as powerful enough to cast a spell capable of breaking through Kaecilius's wards. Those aligned with the spirit sign can have surprising skill in such areas. However, I could count on one hand the number of witches I've heard of during my lifetime that I might guess could accomplish such a thing."
I nodded, thinking it through. "I think if Madame Gao had access to a very powerful witch, things would have turned out a lot differently for her than they did in my visions," I said slowly. "Not to mention how Eliza might utilise a resource like that."
Mordo grunted his assent. "Much more likely that this is a minor talent, and one sorely overestimating her own skill, at that."
"Who was the third?" Steve asked. "You said there were three intruders. Eliza, the witch, and…?"
"A woman capable of phasing through matter," the Sorcerer Supreme said. "Nonmagical. She was unlike anything we've encountered before." Behind the Ancient One, Mordo's expression visibly hardened, but he didn't add anything to her explanation.
"Ghost," I said, nodding to myself. "Makes sense. It's who I'd choose for a heist if I could."
"So you want our help getting your book back?" Tony asked, tapping his chin with a finger. He shrugged. "I mean, we're already going to be going after Eliza, so the more the merrier, I guess. A little bit of magical muscle backing us up wouldn't go astray. You literally just interrupted a planning session, actually."
"Wait," I interrupted. "Why are you coming to us for help with this?"
The Ancient One inclined her head, acknowledging the question. "Eliza is a… robot?" she asked, looking to me for confirmation. I nodded and she continued. "The Masters of the Mystic Arts specialise in handling threats to the mundane world that originate from beyond it—the magical, the supernatural, the extradimensional. Eliza is an advanced piece of technology who has other allies also with powerful, nonmagical abilities."
"You're the experts on these sorts of foes," Mordo interjected to clarify the Ancient One's point, looking toward Tony and the rest of the science team. "Whereas we are as unfamiliar with their capabilities as you would be, were your enemies the N'Garai of the Flickering Realms."
"We are not afraid to ask for help with things that lie outside our areas of expertise," the Ancient One concluded.
"…Fair enough," I said. I had no idea what the N'Garai were—questions for later—but I took their point.
Steve nodded, looking over at T'Challa for confirmation. "We won't turn away more allies for this fight," he said. The Wakandan prince frowned, but inclined his head slightly, and Steve continued. "We don't know where she's based, but we have some thoughts on how we can find her. We can coordinate once we have more information."
The Ancient One waved her hand dismissively, the corner of her lips quirking upward. "That won't be a problem."
Wong opened his mouth and spoke for the first time since they'd arrived. "Kamar-taj's library has not lost a book for over a thousand years. I will not be the first librarian to break that tradition," he said, a determined look on his face.
There was a very brief moment of silence. "You can track them," Natasha gave voice to the realisation that we'd all more or less come to at the same time.
Huh. Of course. That made perfect sense—I'd always wondered why Kaecilius hadn't taken the whole book.
"Yes," the Ancient One confirmed. "Each of the books in my private collection have an extensive series of enchantments woven into them to protect them from harm and allow them to be traced. I do not know of any wards strong enough to mask them from us."
"These enchantments weren't strong enough to stop someone from ripping out a few pages, though?" Tony snarked.
"Kaecilius is a Master of the Mystic Arts," the Ancient One said, emphasising his title, her voice otherwise unperturbed by the dig. "While the tracking spells themselves would have been difficult and time-consuming to unravel, he obviously was still able to bypass one of the less-robust protections."
"So we can find her. Right now," I said suddenly. "We know how to find her."
"Yes. I checked the tracking enchantment again before we came to speak with you," the sorcerer said with a nod. "When they fled Kamar‑taj, they retreated to the New York sanctum, and from there it looks like they travelled to a location in San Francisco. They have not moved for several hours."
Once again, the seemingly-deliberate dramatic timing of certain things tweaked at my sensibilities. We had just been trying to work out a reliable way to track down Eliza, only to have one miraculously happen to fall into our lap at exactly the right time. It wasn't something you'd necessarily notice unless you were thinking in terms of fictional tropes, but once you did it hit you over the head with how obvious it could be at times. The sorcerers, in particular, seemed particularly adept at showing up exactly at the right time (or wrong time, depending on your perspective, I guess). Then again, 'A wizard is never late, nor is he early—he arrives precisely when he means to'.
Steve glanced in my direction, a slight frown twisting his features. "We can't rush into this," he hedged. "We need to be sure."
I shook my head, eyes blazing as I turned to meet his gaze. "I am sure. If Eliza really thinks that that book might be able to lead them to Kaecilius, then she won't let it out of her sight. She'll be there. We need to move quickly, before she figures out the book is useless to her and she gets rid of it."
We'd still need to plan, of course, but this wasn't going to be the holding pattern Steve had originally envisioned. The science team wasn't going to get days or weeks of time to prepare Wanda-3 for the assault. Depending on where exactly Eliza was, there was a good chance we'd be able to move today.
"Steve…" Nat said hesitantly. "Wanda's right. If we're doing this, we can't afford to hesitate."
He set his jaw and was about to respond, but I beat him to it, turning back to the Ancient One. "Alright. If you can give us a more precise location in San Francisco, we can start planning our approach." Steve shot me an annoyed look, but I ignored him, continuing to address the sorcerers. "Let's get you up to speed on what Eliza is, exactly, and how we're planning on taking her down."
Krazyfan1
Worrying for the future.
- Location
- Australia
Ha!
Later on-
Wanda: "Shit, i guess it really Was Agatha all along!"
- Location
- Australia
If they really want Wanda 3 to win, they should make some backup. Get Wanda 4, 5, and so on involved.
I'm sure that'll have no issues at all /s
But having seen the movies... Always dodge Hawkeye's arrows, by a large margin. One took out a Hellicarrier. Another blew up Loki when it was caught.
I'm sure that'll have no issues at all /s
But having seen the movies... Always dodge Hawkeye's arrows, by a large margin. One took out a Hellicarrier. Another blew up Loki when it was caught.
Chapter 57
Chapter 57
"We don't know the exact disposition of Eliza's forces or what countermeasures she might have in place, but we can expect heavy resistance," Steve said, gesturing to the map that was being projected onto the screen behind him.
It was early morning and we were all gathered together for yet another strategy meeting—this time, however, there was a tense edge to the atmosphere as we prepped for the mission to come. Our group seemed to just keep getting larger, with General Okoye now standing with T'Challa and Shuri, as well as the three sorcerers from Kamar-taj clustered on one side of the room. While I was listening and trying to internalise everything Steve was saying, most of my attention was taken up just trying to keep a lid on just how nervous I was. This was really it. We were going for it and I had absolutely no idea what was going to happen.
The exact location that the Ancient One's tracking spell had pointed to lined up essentially perfectly with a Stark Industries' warehousing facility in San Francisco's Central Waterfront, right near Pier 80. There were limited avenues of approach and the building had relatively clear sightlines, but portals meant we could bypass most of that.
We'd already gone over the schematics, but there wasn't too much to see. It was a large warehouse with some partitioned space for offices and other storage rooms—the kind that could be easily shifted around with minor construction works—so there was no guarantee what the internal layout would be like. And that was about all we were going to get, reconnaissance-wise. Satellite imagery was off the table, as was any other real pre-mission surveillance of our target. The element of surprise was paramount here, and anything that might have gotten us more detailed information on our target came with a risk that it would tip Eliza off that we knew where she was and give her a chance to either solidify her defences or flee.
As we went over the plan, every detail seemed to cause my anxiety to rise.
"The Hand's status is unknown—Wanda's confident that the assassins that Gao initially brought in were some of their most dangerous fighters, but they have an unknown number of other combatants," Steve continued. "Among the things stolen during Eliza's attack were two vibranium full-body habits and a handful of vibranium-based weapons, as well as raw materials that could have been used to produce more. We have to assume they're well-equipped. As well as what was stolen from Wakanda, Eliza has access to all of Tony's designs and Stark Industries' holographic technology. Tony?"
Everyone's attention shifted to the technologist and he shrugged. "She didn't use many drones when she attacked the Great Mound, but she's had the time and resources to produce them so we can't assume that she hasn't. She might be keeping them in reserve or stockpiling them. The Mark 45 suit is probably the biggest individual threat we'll have to deal with—it wasn't fully ready for deployment when she stole it, but she's had more than enough time to finish it off. I wouldn't be surprised if she's taken the opportunity to retrofit it with some of her stolen vibranium, either. Danvers and I should be able to handle it, either way, at least until Legolas is ready to take his shot."
As he spoke, Tony picked up a metal case sitting on the table next to him and clicked it open, picking out one of two-dozen smaller, rounded containers from within and holding it up demonstratively.
"Contact lenses—they shift the wavefunction of light just enough to interfere with the way BARF constructs holograms. They'll still be visible, but you'll be able to see through them. Shouldn't interfere with your normal vision."
We'd already explained BARF to the sorcerers after they'd described the appearance that Eliza had worn for her heist—I wasn't super happy she was running around looking like me. Tony passed the case to Killmonger, who took out a set before passing it along to the next person. The briefing continued as the case made its way around the room. When it reached me, I took a set and frowned. This was going to suck. I'd never been good at putting in contact lenses.
"Ghost is likely to be on-site," Steve continued. "Don't engage her in hand-to-hand if it can be avoided. Our best bet is to hit her hard and fast, from an angle she's not expecting, so she doesn't have a chance to phase out."
"Leave her to me," Pietro said confidently, leaning back in his chair.
Steve nodded, glancing in my direction. "There's also the treatment chamber that Wanda described—if we can secure it, we might be able to force her to stand down."
"Ghost prioritises herself over basically everything else," I confirmed. "Eliza might be leading her on with promises of help with her condition, but if she thinks we might cut her off from her source of quantum energy she should back down."
"Eliza herself cannot be underestimated as a threat in close combat, either," the Ancient One spoke up. "In addition to her weapons, she's an extremely skilled fighter."
I blinked. "She is?"
The sorcerer nodded gravely. That was weird. I wasn't a bad fighter, per se, but, even with the boost from the Heart-Shaped Herb, without any access to my chaos magic I wouldn't really rate my chances in a proper fight with… well, essentially anyone here. Even Nat had a significant amount of experience fighting super soldier-level opponents. I might be able to take Clint, if he didn't use any particularly sneaky trick arrows.
The rest of us exchanged a few glances. "JARVIS did have an active combat analysis module, though I didn't need to use it often," Tony said, a speculative edge to his tone.
Natasha suddenly straightened, a look of realisation on her face. She looked at me for a moment before turning her attention to Tony and Bruce. "The Taskmaster Protocol. The data we took from the Red Room?"
"Ugh." I grimaced at the involuntary noise I'd made, my leg bouncing restlessly as my level of anxiety reached new heights. I'd forgotten all about that. How was this fair?! It felt like every time we even talked about Eliza she got stronger.
Bruce nodded slowly. "We were focused on dealing with the Widows' chemical mind control so we hadn't had much time to look over it, but yeah, we did get the Taskmaster Protocol and most of its associated data. I can't see any reason she wouldn't be able to use it."
"Great," said Clint, a little sarcastically.
Steve shook his head. "It doesn't change anything, but it's good information to have. We'll just need to be conscious of it when engaging her." He turned to the map again, hesitating slightly before gesturing at it with a hand. Three red circles appeared, highlighting specific locations. "One or more of the dragon flyers stolen from Wakanda might be present, so Carol and Tony will approach from the bay on a slight delay and intercept them or any other vehicles that attempt to flee. The main loading dock is big enough to fly a Quinjet through, so that's the most likely place for them to be. The rest of us will be divided into three teams—one for each entrance to the building. We'll use portals to drop in and breach simultaneously."
Breaching was safer than portalling directly into the warehouse, given we didn't know what to expect. She could have the whole place rigged to blow, for all we knew.
"Hawkeye, your primary target is the Mark 45. Don't jump the gun—we'll try to get Eliza talking first, see if we can get any more confidence in our guess about how she's using it."
Clint nodded. He was holding the nanotech arrow Shuri had given him, turning it over and over again in his hand, betraying a hint of nervousness. "Just one shot," he said.
"One shot," Steve agreed. "Make sure it counts. Don't take it until we've confirmed the target and you're absolutely sure you're going to hit it."
Oh, good, yes, please, frame it like that. No pressure.
Why had I thought the arrow was a good idea again? Were we really risking the outcome of the whole mission and put maybe all of our lives in the hands of fucking Hawkeye? Part of me knew that this was a sensible strategy that even the tactical minds of the team had agreed to, but the less-rational part of me was determined to nitpick whatever holes it could in our plan.
"Align with one of us before you take your shot, archer," Mordo said, raising his voice so he could be heard. "We can provide a second chance, should you miss."
I took a deep breath to calm myself, nodding along as he spoke. I hadn't explicitly thought of it before now, but it was a good point—a ranged projectile could be redirected with a well-placed portal, much as I'd done with the spear Pietro had thrown during our fight at Avengers Tower. I'd have to keep my eyes open as well. This was fine. It was going to be fine.
Steve nodded as well, acknowledging the sorcerer's words. "She's likely to go after Tony directly," he added. "Shadowing him might be the best bet for a clear shot."
Tony let out a small snort of amusement. "You want to use me as bait?"
"Not as bait," Steve said, shaking his head. "We know what her priorities are—we're just planning accordingly."
"I didn't say I minded being bait."
"I'm going, too," Shuri said suddenly, her voice loud and firm.
"You are not," T'Challa responded immediately, his head snapping around so he could stare at her, a little bit of surprise in his tone.
Shuri set her jaw. "We need her to commit to the fight, rather than flee. Stark might be enough to bait her on his own, but the two of us, together?"
"I do not care, Shuri. It is too dangerous," he said.
"I know you want to help, Shuri, but your brother's right. Eliza is extremely dangerous and we're going in blind. We don't know what sort of defences she's going to have in place," Steve interjected—he was trying to be helpful, but he'd put on his 'talking to a headstrong child' voice and I knew Shuri would respond to that about as well as I did.
"It's too obvious," Bucky chimed in. "She won't expect you to come with us. If you do, it'll be suspicious. It might spook her."
Shuri frowned angrily, opening her mouth for a moment, then she re-considered whatever snarky response had immediately leapt to mind. "She might think it's a trap," she said instead, looking over in my direction briefly. "But would she really pass up the opportunity to disarm us as a threat entirely?"
I wasn't sure if she had looked at me with the assumption that I'd support her suggestion, but I spoke up anyway. "That's exactly why you shouldn't come," I said, shaking my head. "There's no guarantee this works. If things go really bad… we need to make sure we have a backup plan still around."
Shuri glared at me for a moment before she looked around the room, presumably looking for someone who might back her up. Her expression darkened further, but she shut her mouth and didn't argue the matter any further.
Steve nodded again. "Alright. That's about it. Go gear up, make any final preparations you need to. We leave in thirty minutes. Oh-dark-thirty sharp." I was still wrapping my head around the time zone differences, but we'd already talked the timing through and it'd be approximately ten in the evening in San Francisco when we arrived.
There were nods and murmurs of assent as the group broke into smaller clusters, most heading out to suit up and ready their gear. T'Challa and Shuri stepped to a corner of the room to speak to each other with lowered voices—still arguing over whether she would come, it sounded like. Pietro started to follow the main group of Avengers out, but stopped again when he noticed that I hadn't moved yet.
My eyes were fixed on the Ancient One and the other two sorcerers. They were lingering as well, just standing together in a small group. What would they be doing for the next half an hour? Just… hanging out? Waiting? I was glad we had some additional help, but I still hated that they were here. Ostensibly they were here for Eliza, but that didn't mean they didn't have ulterior motives.
Seemingly sensing my gaze upon her, the Sorcerer Supreme turned slightly to return it and we regarded each other quietly. Pietro vacillated, looking between the two of us, an uncertain expression on his face. After a few seconds, I let out a small sigh and walked up to her. "So…" I said, drawing out the 'oh' sound. "Can I trust that the Masters of the Mystic Arts aren't going to turn around and try to capture or banish me the second we're done helping you get your book back?" I asked, trying to keep my tone light despite the anxiety clawing at my chest.
Mordo shot me a warning look, but a small, tight smile tugged at the corner of the Ancient One's mouth. "The situation has not overly changed since your last visit," she said. "I don't suppose I could convince you to come back to Kamar-taj with us afterward?"
"Not a chance."
"I thought as much," she said, a touch of something unidentifiable in her voice. "Our truce remains. You have my word."
"Good," I said, nodding slowly. I wasn't completely sure I trusted her word, but it wasn't like there was anything else that she could say that would set my mind at ease.
"Eliza… an artificial intelligence, born from the Mind Stone, fighting the Avengers," the Ancient One mused quietly, turning back to face the map of the warehouse that still dominated the screen on the far side of the room. She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. "The version of reality we find ourselves with is so divorced from the timelines I have observed as to be nearly unrecognisable at times. Still, there are similarities. Common points of reference."
I bit my lip and nodded. Regardless of how much Eliza disliked being compared to Ultron, discounting the similarities between the two of them would be silly. "I've noticed that, as well."
"The future you witnessed didn't happen here, so history cannot repeat itself," the sorcerer said. "But it seems it does still rhyme, from time to time."
I let out a soft snort of amusement, shaking my head. "And so do you, apparently."
She smiled faintly again. "So it would seem."
"I… better go get ready."
The sorcerer inclined her head silently and I stepped away, moving back toward Pietro. He fell into step with me as we headed for the Avengers' temporary quarters.
--
Twenty minutes later, I stood resting my forehead against the cool metal of one of the Avengers' lockers, my eyes closed, taking a few deep breaths as my stomach did its best impression of a washing machine. I was dressed and ready, wearing a loose dress cut from some rich, deep red cloth, with what I guessed were polished plates of vibranium armour adorning my shoulders, collar, and waist—T'Challa had at least been sensible enough not to expect Pietro and I to charge into battle wearing the Wakandan equivalent of prison fatigues.
I took another breath. I didn't want to do this. I didn't want to fight Eliza. I didn't want to send Wanda-3 to her probable death. I didn't want any of this.
"Hey," Nat said softly. I opened my eyes a crack, turning my head as she stepped in to lean against the locker next to me. "You okay?" she asked.
"No," I said, honestly. "I think I'm going to throw up."
A small smile tugged at her mouth. "You know, if you keep throwing up every mission, Tony's probably going to start calling you Chuck or something."
I groaned, the noise bordering on a whimper. "I'm such an idiot. I don't know if I can do this."
Her expression softened, a sympathetic look entering her eyes. She leaned forward, touching my temple with her forehead. "You're not an idiot," she said, quietly but firmly. "Don't say that. This has been a really big mess and being an Avenger is hard. You can do this."
"I'm not an Avenger, Nat," I mumbled. "I really wanted to be, but…"
Nat pulled away, looking at me critically. I turned to face her, my shoulders hunched as I glanced to the side where Pietro and Clint stood waiting for us. Everyone was ready to go… I was holding them all up. "You know, for all the secret knowledge in that head of yours, sometimes you're just absolutely clueless," Natasha said affectionately, shaking her head. She glanced over at Clint briefly. "Being an Avenger isn't being in a club. Tony doesn't get to decide if you're an Avenger. Steve doesn't, either. That's not how we started and it's not what we are now. We're Avengers because we don't give up. Not even when it's hard. Especially when it's hard. It's putting yourself in danger—knowing you might not walk away—because you want to make a difference. You want to protect people."
"But this… this is all my fault."
Clint stepped closer, catching my attention. His expression was serious. "Nat's right. Maybe it's your fault. That doesn't matter. Who cares? What matters is, are you up for this? We're going up against a superpowered evil computer and our best plan is for me to shoot it with a bow and arrow," he said, a touch of incredulity in his tone. "None of this makes sense. But I'm going to go because it's my job. You don't have to come. You could stay here. Hell, you could open a portal right now and run anywhere on Earth. But you're not, are you? You're coming. You're putting yourself at risk to save people. To fight. If you come with us… you're an Avenger. End of story."
"…Things rhyme, from time to time," I murmured quietly to myself. I straightened up, taking a deep breath to compose myself. Surprisingly, my stomach had settled slightly. "Alright. I'm good. Let's go kick some AI butt."
--
"For the last time, no, Shuri," T'Challa said firmly as we rounded the corner. The Wakandan prince was outfitted in his full Black Panther habit, his face covered by the expressionless mask as he barred his little sister's way.
Despite the earlier consensus that she would not be joining us, Shuri herself was dressed for battle as well, lightly armoured with a gorget and skirt interlaced with polished vibranium plates and a pair of stylised panther blasters covering her hands. Her braids were pulled up in a tightly bound bun on top of her head, white warpaint dotted across her forehead and marking her lower lip.
She set her jaw, squaring off with her brother. "This is my decision, T'Challa, not yours."
They weren't alone. Okoye stood to one side, watching the argument—her expression was steady, but I thought I detected a small hint of concealed amusement in the twitch of her lips. The sorcerers were waiting patiently, incongruously sitting on antique wooden chairs with a low table between them, sipping on tea that I supposed they must have conjured or otherwise brought with them. Killmonger, Steve and Bucky had arrived already as well, but while they stood nearby they didn't seem overly keen to get between the siblings while they quarrelled.
"I will not have my little sister used as bait. This conversation is over, Shuri. You will remain here." Annoyance warred with surprise and disbelief in T'Challa's tone—I got the feeling that he was unused to having her talk back to him on something like this.
Shuri was utterly undeterred, almost snarling as she spat her words at him. "I am not just your 'little sister'!" she practically shouted, angrier and louder than I'd ever seen her before. "I am a princess of Wakanda! I have received the blessing of Bast! It is my right to defend my people, just as much as it is yours!"
"I just want you to be safe. You are still young, you have plenty of time to protect Wakanda."
Shuri shook her head violently. "You want me to be safe but it is not safe for me here, brother. She has proven that over and over again. I won't be safe until she is dead."
I really, really hoped I was imagining it, but I could have sworn that Shuri's eyes had flickered over to me for a brief moment as she spoke just then. I knew how much she and her brother disliked me, and a little part of me was anxious that she was counting Eliza and I as the same person when she said it. I suppressed a sigh. I still had to contend with Wakanda and the show trial they demanded of Pietro and I after we resolved this mess.
T'Challa paused, his mask concealing his expression as he regarded his sister silently. She stared back at him defiantly, shoulders set, her expression determined. After a few moments passed, T'Challa dropped his gaze, shaking his head. "…Baba is going to kill me. And he will be right to do so." He gestured toward the rest of us with one hand. "Fine. You can come with us. But—"
"No buts. We fight side by side, brother."
Okoye chose that moment to intercede. "I will guard her with my life, my prince," she said, simply, but that seemed to be enough to put an end to the discussion. T'Challa seemed like he wanted to say something more, his jaw working, but after a moment he just nodded.
The sound of metal footsteps heralded Tony's arrival as he entered the room along with the last few stragglers of our team. I took a few tentative steps into the room, looking around at everyone. Really just… looked, for the first time in what felt like a long time. It wasn't quite a complete Endgame-level team up, but it was getting damn close, and nearly a decade early besides. I started to hum a familiar tune quietly under my breath.
The Mark 43 armour had taken a beating, but the chestplates had been replaced with vibranium fittings and Tony, Iron Man, wore it confidently as he walked in. Alongside him was Bruce—probably the plainest-dressed person here, just wearing a set of his usual plain outfits with pants designed to stretch to allow his transformation—and Carol, in full blue, red and gold Captain Marvel regalia.
On one side of the room, the trio of robed sorcerers from Kamar-taj stood up, their furniture sinking away into portals conjured beneath them—Mordo held the Staff of the Living Tribunal loosely in one hand, tucked behind his back, while Wong was similarly equipped with the Wand of Watoomb. The Eye of Agamotto hung from the Ancient One's neck. Opposite them, the Black Panther stood alongside Shuri and Okoye in full Wakandan battle dress. Even fucking Killmonger, in a set of plated vibranium armour, stood checking over the sonic rifle he'd been given.
On my right, Natasha was wearing her black body suit, a little too bulky to call completely skintight—I thought I remembered her mentioning at one point that it was effectively a Kevlar variant, similar to Steve's uniform. Her Widow's Bites were on her wrists, bright blue strips of light along her arms and side. Clint was wearing a black and deep purple vest with one armoured sleeve, a two-fingered glove on the other hand. On my left, Pietro had been given a Wakandan-style outfit as well, black sports-style material with silver highlights and armoured gloves.
At the far end of the room, in the direction we were walking, stood Bucky, his metal arm polished, wearing a black, military-style load bearing vest and checking over an enormous machine gun he'd gotten from somewhere. Next to him, Steve, Captain America, was in his full uniform. I hadn't noticed until just now, but the Wakandans must have repaired the shallow gouges that T'Challa had scratched in the surface of his shield—the surface now bright and unmarred. He glanced over and saw me looking at him. I held his gaze for a moment, then gave a small, determined nod. He gave me one in return.
This was… this was what I'd wanted all along, wasn't it? What I'd been trying to do since Pietro and I had escaped from the HYDRA research base. For all my faults and failures, I'd still somehow gotten us to this point. It'd taken a little while. I'd stumbled. Made mistakes. There were still issues that would need to be resolved. It wasn't perfect. But what was? Right now, looking around at the gathered heroes as everyone did final checks on their gear? I could practically hear the fucking theme music.
I reached into my pocket, pulling out Kaecilius' sling ring, and slipped it onto my fingers, touching the Mind Stone at my neck for a brief moment before letting my hands fall back to my sides and reflexively tightening them into fists.
The quiet tone of an alarm sounded above us as the clock ticked over, declaring that the mission was on, but at first it almost seemed like barely anyone heard it. "Avengers!" Steve raised his voice to catch everyone's attention, still maintaining eye contact with me, and my heart practically skipped a beat as everyone turned toward him. "Assemble!"
A surge of chaos magic coursed through me, wisps of red energy boiling off my body as my eyes glowed with power. My anxiety was gone completely, replaced with an unshakeable certainty that we were going to pull this off. "Let's fucking go," I growled under my breath, baring my teeth at Steve in a near-feral grin. I was an Avenger.
Eliza wasn't going to know what hit her.
"We don't know the exact disposition of Eliza's forces or what countermeasures she might have in place, but we can expect heavy resistance," Steve said, gesturing to the map that was being projected onto the screen behind him.
It was early morning and we were all gathered together for yet another strategy meeting—this time, however, there was a tense edge to the atmosphere as we prepped for the mission to come. Our group seemed to just keep getting larger, with General Okoye now standing with T'Challa and Shuri, as well as the three sorcerers from Kamar-taj clustered on one side of the room. While I was listening and trying to internalise everything Steve was saying, most of my attention was taken up just trying to keep a lid on just how nervous I was. This was really it. We were going for it and I had absolutely no idea what was going to happen.
The exact location that the Ancient One's tracking spell had pointed to lined up essentially perfectly with a Stark Industries' warehousing facility in San Francisco's Central Waterfront, right near Pier 80. There were limited avenues of approach and the building had relatively clear sightlines, but portals meant we could bypass most of that.
We'd already gone over the schematics, but there wasn't too much to see. It was a large warehouse with some partitioned space for offices and other storage rooms—the kind that could be easily shifted around with minor construction works—so there was no guarantee what the internal layout would be like. And that was about all we were going to get, reconnaissance-wise. Satellite imagery was off the table, as was any other real pre-mission surveillance of our target. The element of surprise was paramount here, and anything that might have gotten us more detailed information on our target came with a risk that it would tip Eliza off that we knew where she was and give her a chance to either solidify her defences or flee.
As we went over the plan, every detail seemed to cause my anxiety to rise.
"The Hand's status is unknown—Wanda's confident that the assassins that Gao initially brought in were some of their most dangerous fighters, but they have an unknown number of other combatants," Steve continued. "Among the things stolen during Eliza's attack were two vibranium full-body habits and a handful of vibranium-based weapons, as well as raw materials that could have been used to produce more. We have to assume they're well-equipped. As well as what was stolen from Wakanda, Eliza has access to all of Tony's designs and Stark Industries' holographic technology. Tony?"
Everyone's attention shifted to the technologist and he shrugged. "She didn't use many drones when she attacked the Great Mound, but she's had the time and resources to produce them so we can't assume that she hasn't. She might be keeping them in reserve or stockpiling them. The Mark 45 suit is probably the biggest individual threat we'll have to deal with—it wasn't fully ready for deployment when she stole it, but she's had more than enough time to finish it off. I wouldn't be surprised if she's taken the opportunity to retrofit it with some of her stolen vibranium, either. Danvers and I should be able to handle it, either way, at least until Legolas is ready to take his shot."
As he spoke, Tony picked up a metal case sitting on the table next to him and clicked it open, picking out one of two-dozen smaller, rounded containers from within and holding it up demonstratively.
"Contact lenses—they shift the wavefunction of light just enough to interfere with the way BARF constructs holograms. They'll still be visible, but you'll be able to see through them. Shouldn't interfere with your normal vision."
We'd already explained BARF to the sorcerers after they'd described the appearance that Eliza had worn for her heist—I wasn't super happy she was running around looking like me. Tony passed the case to Killmonger, who took out a set before passing it along to the next person. The briefing continued as the case made its way around the room. When it reached me, I took a set and frowned. This was going to suck. I'd never been good at putting in contact lenses.
"Ghost is likely to be on-site," Steve continued. "Don't engage her in hand-to-hand if it can be avoided. Our best bet is to hit her hard and fast, from an angle she's not expecting, so she doesn't have a chance to phase out."
"Leave her to me," Pietro said confidently, leaning back in his chair.
Steve nodded, glancing in my direction. "There's also the treatment chamber that Wanda described—if we can secure it, we might be able to force her to stand down."
"Ghost prioritises herself over basically everything else," I confirmed. "Eliza might be leading her on with promises of help with her condition, but if she thinks we might cut her off from her source of quantum energy she should back down."
"Eliza herself cannot be underestimated as a threat in close combat, either," the Ancient One spoke up. "In addition to her weapons, she's an extremely skilled fighter."
I blinked. "She is?"
The sorcerer nodded gravely. That was weird. I wasn't a bad fighter, per se, but, even with the boost from the Heart-Shaped Herb, without any access to my chaos magic I wouldn't really rate my chances in a proper fight with… well, essentially anyone here. Even Nat had a significant amount of experience fighting super soldier-level opponents. I might be able to take Clint, if he didn't use any particularly sneaky trick arrows.
The rest of us exchanged a few glances. "JARVIS did have an active combat analysis module, though I didn't need to use it often," Tony said, a speculative edge to his tone.
Natasha suddenly straightened, a look of realisation on her face. She looked at me for a moment before turning her attention to Tony and Bruce. "The Taskmaster Protocol. The data we took from the Red Room?"
"Ugh." I grimaced at the involuntary noise I'd made, my leg bouncing restlessly as my level of anxiety reached new heights. I'd forgotten all about that. How was this fair?! It felt like every time we even talked about Eliza she got stronger.
Bruce nodded slowly. "We were focused on dealing with the Widows' chemical mind control so we hadn't had much time to look over it, but yeah, we did get the Taskmaster Protocol and most of its associated data. I can't see any reason she wouldn't be able to use it."
"Great," said Clint, a little sarcastically.
Steve shook his head. "It doesn't change anything, but it's good information to have. We'll just need to be conscious of it when engaging her." He turned to the map again, hesitating slightly before gesturing at it with a hand. Three red circles appeared, highlighting specific locations. "One or more of the dragon flyers stolen from Wakanda might be present, so Carol and Tony will approach from the bay on a slight delay and intercept them or any other vehicles that attempt to flee. The main loading dock is big enough to fly a Quinjet through, so that's the most likely place for them to be. The rest of us will be divided into three teams—one for each entrance to the building. We'll use portals to drop in and breach simultaneously."
Breaching was safer than portalling directly into the warehouse, given we didn't know what to expect. She could have the whole place rigged to blow, for all we knew.
"Hawkeye, your primary target is the Mark 45. Don't jump the gun—we'll try to get Eliza talking first, see if we can get any more confidence in our guess about how she's using it."
Clint nodded. He was holding the nanotech arrow Shuri had given him, turning it over and over again in his hand, betraying a hint of nervousness. "Just one shot," he said.
"One shot," Steve agreed. "Make sure it counts. Don't take it until we've confirmed the target and you're absolutely sure you're going to hit it."
Oh, good, yes, please, frame it like that. No pressure.
Why had I thought the arrow was a good idea again? Were we really risking the outcome of the whole mission and put maybe all of our lives in the hands of fucking Hawkeye? Part of me knew that this was a sensible strategy that even the tactical minds of the team had agreed to, but the less-rational part of me was determined to nitpick whatever holes it could in our plan.
"Align with one of us before you take your shot, archer," Mordo said, raising his voice so he could be heard. "We can provide a second chance, should you miss."
I took a deep breath to calm myself, nodding along as he spoke. I hadn't explicitly thought of it before now, but it was a good point—a ranged projectile could be redirected with a well-placed portal, much as I'd done with the spear Pietro had thrown during our fight at Avengers Tower. I'd have to keep my eyes open as well. This was fine. It was going to be fine.
Steve nodded as well, acknowledging the sorcerer's words. "She's likely to go after Tony directly," he added. "Shadowing him might be the best bet for a clear shot."
Tony let out a small snort of amusement. "You want to use me as bait?"
"Not as bait," Steve said, shaking his head. "We know what her priorities are—we're just planning accordingly."
"I didn't say I minded being bait."
"I'm going, too," Shuri said suddenly, her voice loud and firm.
"You are not," T'Challa responded immediately, his head snapping around so he could stare at her, a little bit of surprise in his tone.
Shuri set her jaw. "We need her to commit to the fight, rather than flee. Stark might be enough to bait her on his own, but the two of us, together?"
"I do not care, Shuri. It is too dangerous," he said.
"I know you want to help, Shuri, but your brother's right. Eliza is extremely dangerous and we're going in blind. We don't know what sort of defences she's going to have in place," Steve interjected—he was trying to be helpful, but he'd put on his 'talking to a headstrong child' voice and I knew Shuri would respond to that about as well as I did.
"It's too obvious," Bucky chimed in. "She won't expect you to come with us. If you do, it'll be suspicious. It might spook her."
Shuri frowned angrily, opening her mouth for a moment, then she re-considered whatever snarky response had immediately leapt to mind. "She might think it's a trap," she said instead, looking over in my direction briefly. "But would she really pass up the opportunity to disarm us as a threat entirely?"
I wasn't sure if she had looked at me with the assumption that I'd support her suggestion, but I spoke up anyway. "That's exactly why you shouldn't come," I said, shaking my head. "There's no guarantee this works. If things go really bad… we need to make sure we have a backup plan still around."
Shuri glared at me for a moment before she looked around the room, presumably looking for someone who might back her up. Her expression darkened further, but she shut her mouth and didn't argue the matter any further.
Steve nodded again. "Alright. That's about it. Go gear up, make any final preparations you need to. We leave in thirty minutes. Oh-dark-thirty sharp." I was still wrapping my head around the time zone differences, but we'd already talked the timing through and it'd be approximately ten in the evening in San Francisco when we arrived.
There were nods and murmurs of assent as the group broke into smaller clusters, most heading out to suit up and ready their gear. T'Challa and Shuri stepped to a corner of the room to speak to each other with lowered voices—still arguing over whether she would come, it sounded like. Pietro started to follow the main group of Avengers out, but stopped again when he noticed that I hadn't moved yet.
My eyes were fixed on the Ancient One and the other two sorcerers. They were lingering as well, just standing together in a small group. What would they be doing for the next half an hour? Just… hanging out? Waiting? I was glad we had some additional help, but I still hated that they were here. Ostensibly they were here for Eliza, but that didn't mean they didn't have ulterior motives.
Seemingly sensing my gaze upon her, the Sorcerer Supreme turned slightly to return it and we regarded each other quietly. Pietro vacillated, looking between the two of us, an uncertain expression on his face. After a few seconds, I let out a small sigh and walked up to her. "So…" I said, drawing out the 'oh' sound. "Can I trust that the Masters of the Mystic Arts aren't going to turn around and try to capture or banish me the second we're done helping you get your book back?" I asked, trying to keep my tone light despite the anxiety clawing at my chest.
Mordo shot me a warning look, but a small, tight smile tugged at the corner of the Ancient One's mouth. "The situation has not overly changed since your last visit," she said. "I don't suppose I could convince you to come back to Kamar-taj with us afterward?"
"Not a chance."
"I thought as much," she said, a touch of something unidentifiable in her voice. "Our truce remains. You have my word."
"Good," I said, nodding slowly. I wasn't completely sure I trusted her word, but it wasn't like there was anything else that she could say that would set my mind at ease.
"Eliza… an artificial intelligence, born from the Mind Stone, fighting the Avengers," the Ancient One mused quietly, turning back to face the map of the warehouse that still dominated the screen on the far side of the room. She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. "The version of reality we find ourselves with is so divorced from the timelines I have observed as to be nearly unrecognisable at times. Still, there are similarities. Common points of reference."
I bit my lip and nodded. Regardless of how much Eliza disliked being compared to Ultron, discounting the similarities between the two of them would be silly. "I've noticed that, as well."
"The future you witnessed didn't happen here, so history cannot repeat itself," the sorcerer said. "But it seems it does still rhyme, from time to time."
I let out a soft snort of amusement, shaking my head. "And so do you, apparently."
She smiled faintly again. "So it would seem."
"I… better go get ready."
The sorcerer inclined her head silently and I stepped away, moving back toward Pietro. He fell into step with me as we headed for the Avengers' temporary quarters.
--
Twenty minutes later, I stood resting my forehead against the cool metal of one of the Avengers' lockers, my eyes closed, taking a few deep breaths as my stomach did its best impression of a washing machine. I was dressed and ready, wearing a loose dress cut from some rich, deep red cloth, with what I guessed were polished plates of vibranium armour adorning my shoulders, collar, and waist—T'Challa had at least been sensible enough not to expect Pietro and I to charge into battle wearing the Wakandan equivalent of prison fatigues.
I took another breath. I didn't want to do this. I didn't want to fight Eliza. I didn't want to send Wanda-3 to her probable death. I didn't want any of this.
"Hey," Nat said softly. I opened my eyes a crack, turning my head as she stepped in to lean against the locker next to me. "You okay?" she asked.
"No," I said, honestly. "I think I'm going to throw up."
A small smile tugged at her mouth. "You know, if you keep throwing up every mission, Tony's probably going to start calling you Chuck or something."
I groaned, the noise bordering on a whimper. "I'm such an idiot. I don't know if I can do this."
Her expression softened, a sympathetic look entering her eyes. She leaned forward, touching my temple with her forehead. "You're not an idiot," she said, quietly but firmly. "Don't say that. This has been a really big mess and being an Avenger is hard. You can do this."
"I'm not an Avenger, Nat," I mumbled. "I really wanted to be, but…"
Nat pulled away, looking at me critically. I turned to face her, my shoulders hunched as I glanced to the side where Pietro and Clint stood waiting for us. Everyone was ready to go… I was holding them all up. "You know, for all the secret knowledge in that head of yours, sometimes you're just absolutely clueless," Natasha said affectionately, shaking her head. She glanced over at Clint briefly. "Being an Avenger isn't being in a club. Tony doesn't get to decide if you're an Avenger. Steve doesn't, either. That's not how we started and it's not what we are now. We're Avengers because we don't give up. Not even when it's hard. Especially when it's hard. It's putting yourself in danger—knowing you might not walk away—because you want to make a difference. You want to protect people."
"But this… this is all my fault."
Clint stepped closer, catching my attention. His expression was serious. "Nat's right. Maybe it's your fault. That doesn't matter. Who cares? What matters is, are you up for this? We're going up against a superpowered evil computer and our best plan is for me to shoot it with a bow and arrow," he said, a touch of incredulity in his tone. "None of this makes sense. But I'm going to go because it's my job. You don't have to come. You could stay here. Hell, you could open a portal right now and run anywhere on Earth. But you're not, are you? You're coming. You're putting yourself at risk to save people. To fight. If you come with us… you're an Avenger. End of story."
"…Things rhyme, from time to time," I murmured quietly to myself. I straightened up, taking a deep breath to compose myself. Surprisingly, my stomach had settled slightly. "Alright. I'm good. Let's go kick some AI butt."
--
"For the last time, no, Shuri," T'Challa said firmly as we rounded the corner. The Wakandan prince was outfitted in his full Black Panther habit, his face covered by the expressionless mask as he barred his little sister's way.
Despite the earlier consensus that she would not be joining us, Shuri herself was dressed for battle as well, lightly armoured with a gorget and skirt interlaced with polished vibranium plates and a pair of stylised panther blasters covering her hands. Her braids were pulled up in a tightly bound bun on top of her head, white warpaint dotted across her forehead and marking her lower lip.
She set her jaw, squaring off with her brother. "This is my decision, T'Challa, not yours."
They weren't alone. Okoye stood to one side, watching the argument—her expression was steady, but I thought I detected a small hint of concealed amusement in the twitch of her lips. The sorcerers were waiting patiently, incongruously sitting on antique wooden chairs with a low table between them, sipping on tea that I supposed they must have conjured or otherwise brought with them. Killmonger, Steve and Bucky had arrived already as well, but while they stood nearby they didn't seem overly keen to get between the siblings while they quarrelled.
"I will not have my little sister used as bait. This conversation is over, Shuri. You will remain here." Annoyance warred with surprise and disbelief in T'Challa's tone—I got the feeling that he was unused to having her talk back to him on something like this.
Shuri was utterly undeterred, almost snarling as she spat her words at him. "I am not just your 'little sister'!" she practically shouted, angrier and louder than I'd ever seen her before. "I am a princess of Wakanda! I have received the blessing of Bast! It is my right to defend my people, just as much as it is yours!"
"I just want you to be safe. You are still young, you have plenty of time to protect Wakanda."
Shuri shook her head violently. "You want me to be safe but it is not safe for me here, brother. She has proven that over and over again. I won't be safe until she is dead."
I really, really hoped I was imagining it, but I could have sworn that Shuri's eyes had flickered over to me for a brief moment as she spoke just then. I knew how much she and her brother disliked me, and a little part of me was anxious that she was counting Eliza and I as the same person when she said it. I suppressed a sigh. I still had to contend with Wakanda and the show trial they demanded of Pietro and I after we resolved this mess.
T'Challa paused, his mask concealing his expression as he regarded his sister silently. She stared back at him defiantly, shoulders set, her expression determined. After a few moments passed, T'Challa dropped his gaze, shaking his head. "…Baba is going to kill me. And he will be right to do so." He gestured toward the rest of us with one hand. "Fine. You can come with us. But—"
"No buts. We fight side by side, brother."
Okoye chose that moment to intercede. "I will guard her with my life, my prince," she said, simply, but that seemed to be enough to put an end to the discussion. T'Challa seemed like he wanted to say something more, his jaw working, but after a moment he just nodded.
The sound of metal footsteps heralded Tony's arrival as he entered the room along with the last few stragglers of our team. I took a few tentative steps into the room, looking around at everyone. Really just… looked, for the first time in what felt like a long time. It wasn't quite a complete Endgame-level team up, but it was getting damn close, and nearly a decade early besides. I started to hum a familiar tune quietly under my breath.
The Mark 43 armour had taken a beating, but the chestplates had been replaced with vibranium fittings and Tony, Iron Man, wore it confidently as he walked in. Alongside him was Bruce—probably the plainest-dressed person here, just wearing a set of his usual plain outfits with pants designed to stretch to allow his transformation—and Carol, in full blue, red and gold Captain Marvel regalia.
On one side of the room, the trio of robed sorcerers from Kamar-taj stood up, their furniture sinking away into portals conjured beneath them—Mordo held the Staff of the Living Tribunal loosely in one hand, tucked behind his back, while Wong was similarly equipped with the Wand of Watoomb. The Eye of Agamotto hung from the Ancient One's neck. Opposite them, the Black Panther stood alongside Shuri and Okoye in full Wakandan battle dress. Even fucking Killmonger, in a set of plated vibranium armour, stood checking over the sonic rifle he'd been given.
On my right, Natasha was wearing her black body suit, a little too bulky to call completely skintight—I thought I remembered her mentioning at one point that it was effectively a Kevlar variant, similar to Steve's uniform. Her Widow's Bites were on her wrists, bright blue strips of light along her arms and side. Clint was wearing a black and deep purple vest with one armoured sleeve, a two-fingered glove on the other hand. On my left, Pietro had been given a Wakandan-style outfit as well, black sports-style material with silver highlights and armoured gloves.
At the far end of the room, in the direction we were walking, stood Bucky, his metal arm polished, wearing a black, military-style load bearing vest and checking over an enormous machine gun he'd gotten from somewhere. Next to him, Steve, Captain America, was in his full uniform. I hadn't noticed until just now, but the Wakandans must have repaired the shallow gouges that T'Challa had scratched in the surface of his shield—the surface now bright and unmarred. He glanced over and saw me looking at him. I held his gaze for a moment, then gave a small, determined nod. He gave me one in return.
This was… this was what I'd wanted all along, wasn't it? What I'd been trying to do since Pietro and I had escaped from the HYDRA research base. For all my faults and failures, I'd still somehow gotten us to this point. It'd taken a little while. I'd stumbled. Made mistakes. There were still issues that would need to be resolved. It wasn't perfect. But what was? Right now, looking around at the gathered heroes as everyone did final checks on their gear? I could practically hear the fucking theme music.
I reached into my pocket, pulling out Kaecilius' sling ring, and slipped it onto my fingers, touching the Mind Stone at my neck for a brief moment before letting my hands fall back to my sides and reflexively tightening them into fists.
The quiet tone of an alarm sounded above us as the clock ticked over, declaring that the mission was on, but at first it almost seemed like barely anyone heard it. "Avengers!" Steve raised his voice to catch everyone's attention, still maintaining eye contact with me, and my heart practically skipped a beat as everyone turned toward him. "Assemble!"
A surge of chaos magic coursed through me, wisps of red energy boiling off my body as my eyes glowed with power. My anxiety was gone completely, replaced with an unshakeable certainty that we were going to pull this off. "Let's fucking go," I growled under my breath, baring my teeth at Steve in a near-feral grin. I was an Avenger.
Eliza wasn't going to know what hit her.
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Not really a ton to remark on w.r.t. this chapter, it's mostly just recap. Shuri going into the fight is pretty much the only new thing, I wonder if she'll get a chance to show off her hulk-form. Sad to see that the trauma from Wanda's first visit is still clearly affecting Shuri and T'Challa.
Super excited for things to kick off in a week.
Super excited for things to kick off in a week.
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You tease. I hope whatever the delay is, is a good one.
I hope Eliza makes out out okay... And I sure hope Agatha gets to omnomnom a sorcerer. She deserves a little treat.
Crayz9000
Deranged Bounty Hunter
- Location
- Improbably superpositioned
The Ancient One knew Mark Twain personally, didn't she.
Chapter 58
Chapter 58
Agatha watched from the sidelines as the five figures—the Fingers of the Hand—strode out onto the main warehouse floor. The place was utterly lousy with Hand foot soldiers, dozens of them having arrived well before their leadership to secure the area. They were joined by at least thirty of Eliza's Iron Legion drones, spread around the space. It was just a small force, intended to be mildly impressive, without risking that their guests might feel threatened by the force on display.
Eliza was holding back, of course. She'd been concentrating her resources here just in case this went unexpectedly sideways, with more of the robots shipped in from around the country and packed into the backrooms like sardines, ready to be deployed at a moment's notice. Agatha had found a convenient spot to observe from, just near the corridor leading back to her room. It was close enough to listen in while still being back far enough that she wouldn't be expected to be involved in the conversation or be interrupting anything if she got bored and left. Eliza had parked one of the Iron Legion drones beside her to allow the two of them to speak quietly should they need to, without much risk of them being overheard.
At the head of the group of new arrivals was Alexandra Reid, a tall woman of European heritage, wearing a simple, nondescript business-casual skirt, blouse and jacket combo. Eliza had called her 'Ripley' a couple of times—Agatha hadn't yet deciphered if there was any special meaning behind the nicknames the AI gave to certain people, but Reid just looked like any other generic businesswoman Agatha had ever seen. Had anyone ever made a 'middle finger' joke to her face before? Agatha hoped not… she definitely wanted to get one in before they killed her.
Two familiar faces—Madame Gao and Bakuto—flanked Reid on her left, while the two on the right were new: An African man in a white and light grey tailored three-piece suit with a white fedora, and a Japanese man with a simple white shirt under a grey blazer… Eliza said she didn't recall their names. Sometimes there seemed to be odd gaps in the information the AI had. After this meeting, Agatha decided, she would broach the topic of the AI's source of knowledge and find out exactly how she knew what she knew. Given the tryst they'd had this morning, she figured she had about even odds that the AI would just tell her.
The Fingers had all arrived more or less simultaneously, linking up outside, before heading in together. Agatha supposed that entering as one group was meant to show unity and strength, but she also knew that Eliza was far too aware of the fractures between them to take it seriously. The AI met them alone on the main floor, her vibranium body cloaked in the BARF hologram of Wanda Maximoff that she used when she wanted to appear more 'normal'.
Gao's pet witch, the young Chinese girl that Agatha had stolen the appearance of for their raid on Kamar-taj, entered a respectful distance behind her betters. She noticed Agatha and circled around toward her—ugh. Hopefully she wouldn't try to talk to her. Agatha was here to watch the fireworks, not socialise. Still, she forced a smile onto her face as the girl approached. The baby witch, thankfully, kept up her usual façade of aloof haughtiness, though she couldn't help but sneak a few curious glances at the Dark Sceptre that Agatha held as they stood silently, watching the proceedings.
Agatha spaced out a little as the AI and Hand leadership went over their initial introductions—boring—only really starting to pay attention again when Eliza gestured toward another side corridor that led off the main warehouse floor. The two Iron Legion drones that had been standing in front of it stepped smartly aside and Beck's test subjects strode out.
They were dressed in textured black full-body suits with silver accents, visored metal masks over their faces. Filing out, they lined up in two neat rows of three before simultaneously dropping to one knee in front of the gathered Fingers in the manner of the Hand's usual foot soldiers. Each had one or more vibranium weapons strapped to their body—a long-blade spear, a thick-bladed Ikakalaka sword, a pair of circular ring blades with shimmering blue energy around their interior edges, a pair of pointed, collapsible shields, a pair of panther-headed sonic blasters, and a pair of diamond-shaped daggers.
"They don't look particularly impressive," Reid remarked, looking over the kneeling warriors briefly before glanced back at Gao and Bakuto. "Was this really worth the time and effort you've wasted?"
Eliza bared her teeth in an annoyed smile, then raised a hand. The BARF illusion cloaking her form dissipated, revealing her vibranium, mechanical body. Red plasma flickered into being, swirling around her head, and her eyes flashed. "They don't look impressive because I have not chosen for them to look impressive," the AI said patiently. "Bedding down their capabilities was much more important. Tweaking the aesthetics can come later. Wouldn't you agree?"
There was a pause, the Fingers who had not seen Eliza's preferred form before noticeably stiffening at the AI's appearance. Agatha had to admit, it was a rather intimidating sight. After a brief moment, Reid spoke again. "Alright," she acknowledged. "I'm listening."
"Let's see. How about I start with their equipment? Those suits are a vibranium mesh weave—the strongest metal on Earth," Eliza said. The African Finger straightened at the AI's mention of vibranium. "They're adapted from the Black Panther's habit. Their weapons are vibranium, too. Prizes from our successful raid on Wakanda."
"Not so successful," the Japanese Finger sniffed, shooting a pointed glance in Gao's direction. "The Hand lost many valuable resources that day."
"Think of it as an investment, rather than a loss," the AI countered. "This is the result. The suits are almost indestructible—completely bulletproof, highly resistant to basically everything else. They're lightweight enough that they basically don't inhibit mobility at all. Wearing one, an unenhanced person could take a grenade to the face and just be mildly stunned."
"How much vibranium did you obtain?" the African Finger asked, a hungry look in his eyes.
"I'm essentially out, for now," the AI admitted. "I've been using what we recovered for some other things as well. Still, this is more than enough for the moment."
Reid made a small sound of disapproval in the back of her throat. Agatha had no idea how Eliza was managing to keep a straight face, here. Just watching the woman was annoying the crap out of her—she was really going to enjoy seeing the look on Reid's face when the AI killed her.
Eliza stepped over toward the kneeling test subjects and one stood up to meet her, holding his black-gloved hands out in front of him for inspection. After a half a second, the metal of the gloves began to glow a dull red, a visible heat haze starting to form in the air around them.
"Are you familiar at all with Extremis?" Eliza asked the Fingers. "A gene therapy developed by AIM—Aldrich Killian—the terrorist that abducted the US President a few years back. Enhanced strength, reflexes, and the ability to generate extreme heat through bioelectric induction. If something manages to hurt them despite the suit, Extremis also grants advanced regenerative abilities—cut off a limb, they'll grow it right back."
"The Extremis process is flawed. Its recipients are nothing but ticking time bombs," Reid interjected.
"That would normally be true. Stark looked it over, learned what he could, then mothballed it," Eliza said, nodding. As she spoke, one of the Iron Legion drones walked up to join her. The vibranium of the test subject's gloves had gotten even hotter, orange with a core of yellow. Even though they were standing relatively far away, Agatha could feel the warmth of it on her face. "Extremis normally breaks down and destabilises—sometimes quickly, sometimes over an extended period. Useful for temporary, disposable assets, but that's about it. Normally. But that's where the Hand's own advantages come into play."
"Manipulation of chi," Madame Gao said, looking thoughtful.
"Exactly." Eliza swept a hand out, taking in the foot soldiers that the Hand's leaders had brought with them. "All of your warriors train to gain control over their body—learning to manipulate their chi to the point where they have significant control over their internal processes… the flow of their blood, their heartrate, and so on."
Reid looked interested despite herself. "You're saying that they can stabilise it?"
"Cards on the table? I really need more data to see how well it can be maintained over the longer term, but the initial trials are looking extremely promising." Eliza grinned. "The same control should also allow them to deliberately overload it, if needed, too. I haven't tested that yet, for obvious reasons. The records I have indicate Extremis detonations reach up to three thousand degrees Celsius, vaporizing targets over ten meters away."
The test subject lashed out, grabbing the Iron Legion drone that had joined them. The metal came apart like putty in his hands as he ripped the robot in half almost effortlessly. It fell to the concrete floor in two twisted pieces, sparking, the edges of the metal still glowing. The test subject lowered his gloved hands and they immediately began to cool, spending the next few seconds going from yellow, to orange, to red, to black again. Agatha made a small noise of disappointment. She'd been sure one of the Fingers would flinch back at the movement, but none had—though some surprise and newfound wariness had entered a few of their expressions.
"Finally, each has a combat-augmenting chip implanted at the base of their skull, using something called the Taskmaster Protocol. I don't think you'd be familiar with it, but it was used by the Russian Red Room's top assassin. It analyses, breaks down, and allows them to perfectly mimic the fighting skills of recorded opponents. There's not as much combat data as I'd like just yet—the download and integration progress takes some time—but we've mostly gotten everything that was recorded during the Wakanda raid, Avenger and Hand alike." Eliza made a dismissive gesture with one hand. "Their masks have HUDs with built-in combat analysis suites, as well, to grab additional data as they go. They'll only get better over time. It won't take too long before they're essentially the best fighters and marksmen in the world, in addition to their other advantages. I'd be happy to give a demonstration of their skills, if some of the soldiers you've brought with you are particularly expendable."
Of course, there was one other element of the Red Room's technology that Eliza had also integrated into Beck's test subjects—the chemical subjugation of brain functions. These six test subjects had come in unfailingly loyal to the Hand, but were now nothing more than Eliza's puppets, living extensions of her will.
Agatha was starting to find it rather fascinating, between BARF and the Red Room so far, just how many magical processes were able to be mimicked by scientific advancement. What was that quote, again, about sufficiently advanced technology? Another small part of her was extremely glad that she'd ingratiated herself to Eliza the way that she had—had the AI continued to view her as a simple tool, she may well have used the same process on her… What a nightmare that would have been, to be trapped in her own body, literally unable to think or do anything without the AI's permission.
Before the Fingers had gotten here, Agatha had asked Eliza why she was bothering with this whole demonstration. The Hand was no HYDRA. The deaths of their leadership would permanently cripple the organisation, if not destroy it outright. The AI wasn't intending to let any of them walk away from this and, when it came right down to it, she could have simply annihilated them the second they'd arrived. Eliza had simply told her that there was a single, important difference between a hero and a superhero, or between a villain and a supervillain—presentation.
Agatha had to admit, seeing this all playing out, she was rather coming to appreciate the AI's sense of showmanship.
Reid, at least, finally looked properly interested in what she was being shown, staring at the test subjects with a calculating expression on her face. "That… won't be necessary," she said to Eliza after a moment. "You've actually managed to impress me. That's no small feat."
Madame Gao tapped her cane again. "With these weapons, K'un-Lun—"
The Finger was interrupted by the muffled sound of firing blasters and the clash of metal on metal—sudden sounds of battle ringing out from the direction of the warehouse's main entrance. Almost simultaneously, the Iron Legion drone standing next to Agatha turned to her, reaching up to place a hand on her shoulder and firmly pushing her backwards toward the corridor. "Agatha, move. Now."
The witch blinked, confused, then the floor shivered beneath her as an explosion rolled out from the warehouse's side loading dock and she quickly found her feet. Turning, she hurried down the corridor, the robot moving quickly alongside her as they made their way to her room. She flung the door open, heading inside, then paused, unsure what was happening or Eliza was expecting her to do now that she was here.
A scant few seconds later, the young Chinese witch burst in after them, her hands raised as she drew out a thread of blue magical energy. Agatha raised the Dark Sceptre defensively and the Iron Legion drone held a hand out toward the witch, the whine of a repulsor charging up filling the air. They all froze for a moment, then Eliza spoke again, the drone turning its head to look at Agatha. "Grab the books," she ordered. "I want you and them out of here. Get through to the back, to the dragon flyers. The Avengers are attacking the warehouse."
"The Avengers?" Agatha asked, puzzled. That didn't make sense. What would they hope to accomplish, attacking Eliza now? Still, Agatha knew better than to argue. She turned away from the Chinese witch and scooped the Darkhold up from its stand, stacking the Book of Cagliostro on top of it and clutching the two books against her body using her free hand.
"Wait," the Chinese witch said, her accented voice slightly unsteady. Her eyes were wide and she glanced back toward the open door they'd just come through. "The Avengers? But… we have to protect Madame Gao and the other Fingers."
"Oh, no! Not Madame Gao and the fingies!" Agatha said pursing her lips like she was talking to a baby. Her tone shifted from mocking to flat. "I need to leave. I really don't care what you do."
"Keep her with you," Eliza said, and Agatha shot the drone an unimpressed look in response. "Plausible deniability," the AI clarified.
Agatha rolled her eyes, then glanced at the silvery ball of Wakandan nanotech on her side table. "BARF?"
"Useless against the Avengers. Can you use an illusion?"
She nodded, then looked down at her hands for a moment before thrusting the Dark Sceptre and stack of books into the drone's arms. Focusing, she brought her hands up in front of herself and drew forth a thread of purple-black energy, stretching it between her palm and fingertips as she incanted a spell, "Illusio pallium corpus."
Magic power swirled around her body in a skin-tight cyclone for an instant, briefly obscuring her from view. As the energy dissipated, leaving the illusion behind, the other witch let out a small gasp and stared at her open-mouthed for a moment. "What the… Nǐ fēngle ma?"
"Nǐ zhège sān bā, gǔnkāi," Agatha snapped at her and the younger woman flinched back like she's been slapped. It wasn't clear which was more surprising—that Agatha could speak Mandarin all along, or that she'd sworn at the young witch wearing a copy of her face.
"Agatha." Eliza's tone flared with annoyance.
Agatha rolled her eyes as she retrieved her belongings from the drone. "Fine!" She glanced at the other witch, an annoyed expression on her face. "Are you coming or not?"
The other woman looked conflicted and Agatha didn't wait for a response, barrelling past her as she headed for the door. She paused in the door frame, almost flinching back herself as several dozen Iron Legion drones shot past, rocketing toward the main warehouse floor. Sparing a quick moment to peek after them, she turned and hurried off in the opposite direction. Rapid footsteps behind her let her know that the younger witch had chosen to follow after her. She spared a glance backwards and saw that the drone that had been with them was going in the opposite direction, toward the battle.
Agatha wasn't sure where exactly the Avengers were attacking from—the continued sounds of battle seemed to be coming from behind and in front of them, but Eliza had told her to get to the dragon flyers so that's where she was heading. A furious bellow of rage, as if from some massive beast, sounded behind them. Well, at least she wasn't going that way.
Another explosion rocked the floor as the two witches flew around a corner, bursting through a doorway with clear strips of PVC hanging from the frame, into the rear loading dock. They were greeted by the sounds of repulsor and gun fire. Directly in front of them, behind a crate near the doorway they'd just come through, Quentin Beck was curled up, hands over his ears, a terrified expression on his face. Agatha joined him hurriedly, peeking out to take stock of the situation. The doors to the bay were wide open—one had opened normally, but the twisted remains of the other had seemingly been ripped free from its moorings and was nowhere to be seen.
Two of the Wakandan aircraft were already in the air. One cleared the doors only to be dashed to the ground as Agatha watched, its wings snapping off as a red and gold streak slammed into it, bouncing it off the concrete. The second reared up, engines blazing as it exposed its belly, and shot a massive harpoon charged with blue and orange energy at a target the witch couldn't see from her vantage point.
"Get to the flyer on the left. I'll distract them," Eliza's voice came through Beck's collar loud and clear. "Take Beck, if you can."
The scientist whimpered and mumbled something, but Agatha didn't quite catch what he said—not that she really cared. "Come on," she ordered, shoving him with her shoulder. "You heard her. Get moving or I'll pop your damn head myself."
--
I flicked my hands, red wisps of chaos magic intercepting the harpoon that had been shot from the dragon flyer's belly and stopping it dead in midair. Turning, I telekinetically flicked the weapon in a wide arc, its trailing cable snapping and spitting with blue and orange energy, and used it to swat three Iron Legion drones out of the air. I changed focus as I spun, releasing my hold on it and whipping one arm out to the side to catch a pair of Hand ninjas that had darted toward me with a blast of power that sent them flying.
When we'd breached the warehouse, all hell had broken loose, with all three teams immediately encountering heavy resistance. I hadn't been sure what to expect, but there were way more ninjas and drones than I thought there'd be. Pietro had already zoomed off to scout out the building, rapidly feeding us information about the disposition of Eliza's forces and looking to locate Ghost before she was able to mess with anyone else.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a pair of sorcerous portals open and snap shut again, catching the harpoon I'd just discarded and dropping it directly onto another ninja, turning him into little more than a bloody smear on the concrete. Mordo turned away and swung the Staff of the Living Tribunal, the blazing sorcerous energy connecting the segmented sections enhancing the power of the strike as it cratered the chest of an Iron Legion drone, smashing it to the ground in a burst of sparks.
There was the rapid retort of gunfire to my left as Bucky mowed down a half-dozen ninjas who'd been caught in the open. A pair of drones came at him, repulsor beams blazing, and he retreated behind a shipping container for cover before returning fire.
"Does anyone have eyes on the Mark 45?" Clint called through the comms.
Tony flew up from the wreckage of the Wakandan aircraft he'd knocked from the air and came through the loading dock's entrance, blasting another drone out of the air before pausing near the top of the cavernous room for a moment. There was an odd sound that reverberated over the clamour of combat, like a repulsor charging up but deeper and more resonant. A bare moment later, an enormous column of blazing orange and blue energy ripped upwards from behind one of the remaining dragon flyers, almost a dozen feet wide.
Tony reacted fast, trying to evade, but the beam clipped the side of his suit as it tore through the roof, carving a path as it tracked him for a moment before dissipating. Where it had hit, the roof was just gone. No wreckage, no nothing. Tony recovered mid-air just quickly enough to be upright again when the Mark 45 armour dived into the building from above and tackled him out of the air. Once more, he recovered just before hitting the ground, but the other suit blasted him with its repulsors, slamming him to the ground and gouging a literal furrow through the concrete as he was blasted along. The orange beams looked a bit different than I remembered, edged with a blue outline that reminded me of Wakandan sonic tech.
"It's here!" I yelled through my comms, raising hand toward the suit. "Main loading dock!"
I lashed out with wisps of chaos magic but, before I could pull the Mark 45 from the air, I saw a flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye, near where the massive blast had come from a moment ago. A white and red blur lunged toward me and I barely managed to throw up a shield between myself and whatever it was. The figure glanced off, landing hard on the ground next to me before thrusters fired in her feet and sent her in a wide spiral around my shield, coming to rest in a crouch a half-dozen metres away.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't the worst version of Wanda in this or any other universe," Eliza said, grinning at me as she straightened up.
"Fuck you, too," I growled, taking a step back as I looked at her warily, summoning more magic to my hands. I blinked a few times—were the contact lenses working properly? She was wearing the same form as she had when she'd confronted me in the cells in Wakanda, but that had just been a hologram, a projection created with BARF.
The red plasma of her hair was translucent, clearly a hologram, but the rest of her—the mechanical, white-panelled body clearly modelled after my own—seemed solid. One of her arms ended in what looked like a sonic blaster of some kind, the glowing mouth of the barrel stylised to look like a screaming face. She must have made a custom body… We'd been wrong about the Mark 45. My mind raced, trying to work out how I could communicate that to Clint without Eliza overhearing and suspecting something was up.
I opened my comms, not taking my eyes off her. "So this is what you've been wasting your time doing? Making sex dolls that look like me?"
"Me wasting my time?" Eliza glared at me coldly for a moment, then scoffed and shook her head. "That's rich coming from you—what are you even trying to accomplish here? What was the plan? Just go for it and hope you could work out how to stop me on the fly using the Mind Stone? I'm not overly surprised that the Avengers wouldn't think beyond trying to punch me in the face but, honestly, I kind of expected better from you."
"Sorry to disappoint," I said. The longer I could keep her talking, the better. The battle had continued around us—Tony was occupied playing repulsor tag with the Mark 45 while the rest of my team was still being pressed by drones and ninjas—and I risked a quick glance around to check that nothing else was sneaking up on me. "But seriously, this is all you've been doing?"
"Actually, you sort of interrupted a whole big dramatic reveal and betrayal thing I was doing with the Hand, so thanks for that," she said, a tinge of annoyance entering her tone. Tilting her head to the side, she spread her arms in a wide, challenging gesture. "So are you going to take your shot already? Or are you just going to stand there, staring into my eyes?"
The corner of my mouth twitched and I smiled at the reference despite myself. "What was that?" I asked in response, eyes still fixed on her as I shifted my own stance, readying myself for the attack that was definitely going to come next. "Sorry, I was busy staring into your eyes."
"Is anyone else hearing this?" Tony asked in my ear. "I'm not sure flirting with the evil robot copy of yourself is a healthy coping mechanism."
Eliza grinned widely at my acknowledgement, but said nothing as the thrusters in her feet fired and she lunged through the air toward me.
Agatha watched from the sidelines as the five figures—the Fingers of the Hand—strode out onto the main warehouse floor. The place was utterly lousy with Hand foot soldiers, dozens of them having arrived well before their leadership to secure the area. They were joined by at least thirty of Eliza's Iron Legion drones, spread around the space. It was just a small force, intended to be mildly impressive, without risking that their guests might feel threatened by the force on display.
Eliza was holding back, of course. She'd been concentrating her resources here just in case this went unexpectedly sideways, with more of the robots shipped in from around the country and packed into the backrooms like sardines, ready to be deployed at a moment's notice. Agatha had found a convenient spot to observe from, just near the corridor leading back to her room. It was close enough to listen in while still being back far enough that she wouldn't be expected to be involved in the conversation or be interrupting anything if she got bored and left. Eliza had parked one of the Iron Legion drones beside her to allow the two of them to speak quietly should they need to, without much risk of them being overheard.
At the head of the group of new arrivals was Alexandra Reid, a tall woman of European heritage, wearing a simple, nondescript business-casual skirt, blouse and jacket combo. Eliza had called her 'Ripley' a couple of times—Agatha hadn't yet deciphered if there was any special meaning behind the nicknames the AI gave to certain people, but Reid just looked like any other generic businesswoman Agatha had ever seen. Had anyone ever made a 'middle finger' joke to her face before? Agatha hoped not… she definitely wanted to get one in before they killed her.
Two familiar faces—Madame Gao and Bakuto—flanked Reid on her left, while the two on the right were new: An African man in a white and light grey tailored three-piece suit with a white fedora, and a Japanese man with a simple white shirt under a grey blazer… Eliza said she didn't recall their names. Sometimes there seemed to be odd gaps in the information the AI had. After this meeting, Agatha decided, she would broach the topic of the AI's source of knowledge and find out exactly how she knew what she knew. Given the tryst they'd had this morning, she figured she had about even odds that the AI would just tell her.
The Fingers had all arrived more or less simultaneously, linking up outside, before heading in together. Agatha supposed that entering as one group was meant to show unity and strength, but she also knew that Eliza was far too aware of the fractures between them to take it seriously. The AI met them alone on the main floor, her vibranium body cloaked in the BARF hologram of Wanda Maximoff that she used when she wanted to appear more 'normal'.
Gao's pet witch, the young Chinese girl that Agatha had stolen the appearance of for their raid on Kamar-taj, entered a respectful distance behind her betters. She noticed Agatha and circled around toward her—ugh. Hopefully she wouldn't try to talk to her. Agatha was here to watch the fireworks, not socialise. Still, she forced a smile onto her face as the girl approached. The baby witch, thankfully, kept up her usual façade of aloof haughtiness, though she couldn't help but sneak a few curious glances at the Dark Sceptre that Agatha held as they stood silently, watching the proceedings.
Agatha spaced out a little as the AI and Hand leadership went over their initial introductions—boring—only really starting to pay attention again when Eliza gestured toward another side corridor that led off the main warehouse floor. The two Iron Legion drones that had been standing in front of it stepped smartly aside and Beck's test subjects strode out.
They were dressed in textured black full-body suits with silver accents, visored metal masks over their faces. Filing out, they lined up in two neat rows of three before simultaneously dropping to one knee in front of the gathered Fingers in the manner of the Hand's usual foot soldiers. Each had one or more vibranium weapons strapped to their body—a long-blade spear, a thick-bladed Ikakalaka sword, a pair of circular ring blades with shimmering blue energy around their interior edges, a pair of pointed, collapsible shields, a pair of panther-headed sonic blasters, and a pair of diamond-shaped daggers.
"They don't look particularly impressive," Reid remarked, looking over the kneeling warriors briefly before glanced back at Gao and Bakuto. "Was this really worth the time and effort you've wasted?"
Eliza bared her teeth in an annoyed smile, then raised a hand. The BARF illusion cloaking her form dissipated, revealing her vibranium, mechanical body. Red plasma flickered into being, swirling around her head, and her eyes flashed. "They don't look impressive because I have not chosen for them to look impressive," the AI said patiently. "Bedding down their capabilities was much more important. Tweaking the aesthetics can come later. Wouldn't you agree?"
There was a pause, the Fingers who had not seen Eliza's preferred form before noticeably stiffening at the AI's appearance. Agatha had to admit, it was a rather intimidating sight. After a brief moment, Reid spoke again. "Alright," she acknowledged. "I'm listening."
"Let's see. How about I start with their equipment? Those suits are a vibranium mesh weave—the strongest metal on Earth," Eliza said. The African Finger straightened at the AI's mention of vibranium. "They're adapted from the Black Panther's habit. Their weapons are vibranium, too. Prizes from our successful raid on Wakanda."
"Not so successful," the Japanese Finger sniffed, shooting a pointed glance in Gao's direction. "The Hand lost many valuable resources that day."
"Think of it as an investment, rather than a loss," the AI countered. "This is the result. The suits are almost indestructible—completely bulletproof, highly resistant to basically everything else. They're lightweight enough that they basically don't inhibit mobility at all. Wearing one, an unenhanced person could take a grenade to the face and just be mildly stunned."
"How much vibranium did you obtain?" the African Finger asked, a hungry look in his eyes.
"I'm essentially out, for now," the AI admitted. "I've been using what we recovered for some other things as well. Still, this is more than enough for the moment."
Reid made a small sound of disapproval in the back of her throat. Agatha had no idea how Eliza was managing to keep a straight face, here. Just watching the woman was annoying the crap out of her—she was really going to enjoy seeing the look on Reid's face when the AI killed her.
Eliza stepped over toward the kneeling test subjects and one stood up to meet her, holding his black-gloved hands out in front of him for inspection. After a half a second, the metal of the gloves began to glow a dull red, a visible heat haze starting to form in the air around them.
"Are you familiar at all with Extremis?" Eliza asked the Fingers. "A gene therapy developed by AIM—Aldrich Killian—the terrorist that abducted the US President a few years back. Enhanced strength, reflexes, and the ability to generate extreme heat through bioelectric induction. If something manages to hurt them despite the suit, Extremis also grants advanced regenerative abilities—cut off a limb, they'll grow it right back."
"The Extremis process is flawed. Its recipients are nothing but ticking time bombs," Reid interjected.
"That would normally be true. Stark looked it over, learned what he could, then mothballed it," Eliza said, nodding. As she spoke, one of the Iron Legion drones walked up to join her. The vibranium of the test subject's gloves had gotten even hotter, orange with a core of yellow. Even though they were standing relatively far away, Agatha could feel the warmth of it on her face. "Extremis normally breaks down and destabilises—sometimes quickly, sometimes over an extended period. Useful for temporary, disposable assets, but that's about it. Normally. But that's where the Hand's own advantages come into play."
"Manipulation of chi," Madame Gao said, looking thoughtful.
"Exactly." Eliza swept a hand out, taking in the foot soldiers that the Hand's leaders had brought with them. "All of your warriors train to gain control over their body—learning to manipulate their chi to the point where they have significant control over their internal processes… the flow of their blood, their heartrate, and so on."
Reid looked interested despite herself. "You're saying that they can stabilise it?"
"Cards on the table? I really need more data to see how well it can be maintained over the longer term, but the initial trials are looking extremely promising." Eliza grinned. "The same control should also allow them to deliberately overload it, if needed, too. I haven't tested that yet, for obvious reasons. The records I have indicate Extremis detonations reach up to three thousand degrees Celsius, vaporizing targets over ten meters away."
The test subject lashed out, grabbing the Iron Legion drone that had joined them. The metal came apart like putty in his hands as he ripped the robot in half almost effortlessly. It fell to the concrete floor in two twisted pieces, sparking, the edges of the metal still glowing. The test subject lowered his gloved hands and they immediately began to cool, spending the next few seconds going from yellow, to orange, to red, to black again. Agatha made a small noise of disappointment. She'd been sure one of the Fingers would flinch back at the movement, but none had—though some surprise and newfound wariness had entered a few of their expressions.
"Finally, each has a combat-augmenting chip implanted at the base of their skull, using something called the Taskmaster Protocol. I don't think you'd be familiar with it, but it was used by the Russian Red Room's top assassin. It analyses, breaks down, and allows them to perfectly mimic the fighting skills of recorded opponents. There's not as much combat data as I'd like just yet—the download and integration progress takes some time—but we've mostly gotten everything that was recorded during the Wakanda raid, Avenger and Hand alike." Eliza made a dismissive gesture with one hand. "Their masks have HUDs with built-in combat analysis suites, as well, to grab additional data as they go. They'll only get better over time. It won't take too long before they're essentially the best fighters and marksmen in the world, in addition to their other advantages. I'd be happy to give a demonstration of their skills, if some of the soldiers you've brought with you are particularly expendable."
Of course, there was one other element of the Red Room's technology that Eliza had also integrated into Beck's test subjects—the chemical subjugation of brain functions. These six test subjects had come in unfailingly loyal to the Hand, but were now nothing more than Eliza's puppets, living extensions of her will.
Agatha was starting to find it rather fascinating, between BARF and the Red Room so far, just how many magical processes were able to be mimicked by scientific advancement. What was that quote, again, about sufficiently advanced technology? Another small part of her was extremely glad that she'd ingratiated herself to Eliza the way that she had—had the AI continued to view her as a simple tool, she may well have used the same process on her… What a nightmare that would have been, to be trapped in her own body, literally unable to think or do anything without the AI's permission.
Before the Fingers had gotten here, Agatha had asked Eliza why she was bothering with this whole demonstration. The Hand was no HYDRA. The deaths of their leadership would permanently cripple the organisation, if not destroy it outright. The AI wasn't intending to let any of them walk away from this and, when it came right down to it, she could have simply annihilated them the second they'd arrived. Eliza had simply told her that there was a single, important difference between a hero and a superhero, or between a villain and a supervillain—presentation.
Agatha had to admit, seeing this all playing out, she was rather coming to appreciate the AI's sense of showmanship.
Reid, at least, finally looked properly interested in what she was being shown, staring at the test subjects with a calculating expression on her face. "That… won't be necessary," she said to Eliza after a moment. "You've actually managed to impress me. That's no small feat."
Madame Gao tapped her cane again. "With these weapons, K'un-Lun—"
The Finger was interrupted by the muffled sound of firing blasters and the clash of metal on metal—sudden sounds of battle ringing out from the direction of the warehouse's main entrance. Almost simultaneously, the Iron Legion drone standing next to Agatha turned to her, reaching up to place a hand on her shoulder and firmly pushing her backwards toward the corridor. "Agatha, move. Now."
The witch blinked, confused, then the floor shivered beneath her as an explosion rolled out from the warehouse's side loading dock and she quickly found her feet. Turning, she hurried down the corridor, the robot moving quickly alongside her as they made their way to her room. She flung the door open, heading inside, then paused, unsure what was happening or Eliza was expecting her to do now that she was here.
A scant few seconds later, the young Chinese witch burst in after them, her hands raised as she drew out a thread of blue magical energy. Agatha raised the Dark Sceptre defensively and the Iron Legion drone held a hand out toward the witch, the whine of a repulsor charging up filling the air. They all froze for a moment, then Eliza spoke again, the drone turning its head to look at Agatha. "Grab the books," she ordered. "I want you and them out of here. Get through to the back, to the dragon flyers. The Avengers are attacking the warehouse."
"The Avengers?" Agatha asked, puzzled. That didn't make sense. What would they hope to accomplish, attacking Eliza now? Still, Agatha knew better than to argue. She turned away from the Chinese witch and scooped the Darkhold up from its stand, stacking the Book of Cagliostro on top of it and clutching the two books against her body using her free hand.
"Wait," the Chinese witch said, her accented voice slightly unsteady. Her eyes were wide and she glanced back toward the open door they'd just come through. "The Avengers? But… we have to protect Madame Gao and the other Fingers."
"Oh, no! Not Madame Gao and the fingies!" Agatha said pursing her lips like she was talking to a baby. Her tone shifted from mocking to flat. "I need to leave. I really don't care what you do."
"Keep her with you," Eliza said, and Agatha shot the drone an unimpressed look in response. "Plausible deniability," the AI clarified.
Agatha rolled her eyes, then glanced at the silvery ball of Wakandan nanotech on her side table. "BARF?"
"Useless against the Avengers. Can you use an illusion?"
She nodded, then looked down at her hands for a moment before thrusting the Dark Sceptre and stack of books into the drone's arms. Focusing, she brought her hands up in front of herself and drew forth a thread of purple-black energy, stretching it between her palm and fingertips as she incanted a spell, "Illusio pallium corpus."
Magic power swirled around her body in a skin-tight cyclone for an instant, briefly obscuring her from view. As the energy dissipated, leaving the illusion behind, the other witch let out a small gasp and stared at her open-mouthed for a moment. "What the… Nǐ fēngle ma?"
"Nǐ zhège sān bā, gǔnkāi," Agatha snapped at her and the younger woman flinched back like she's been slapped. It wasn't clear which was more surprising—that Agatha could speak Mandarin all along, or that she'd sworn at the young witch wearing a copy of her face.
"Agatha." Eliza's tone flared with annoyance.
Agatha rolled her eyes as she retrieved her belongings from the drone. "Fine!" She glanced at the other witch, an annoyed expression on her face. "Are you coming or not?"
The other woman looked conflicted and Agatha didn't wait for a response, barrelling past her as she headed for the door. She paused in the door frame, almost flinching back herself as several dozen Iron Legion drones shot past, rocketing toward the main warehouse floor. Sparing a quick moment to peek after them, she turned and hurried off in the opposite direction. Rapid footsteps behind her let her know that the younger witch had chosen to follow after her. She spared a glance backwards and saw that the drone that had been with them was going in the opposite direction, toward the battle.
Agatha wasn't sure where exactly the Avengers were attacking from—the continued sounds of battle seemed to be coming from behind and in front of them, but Eliza had told her to get to the dragon flyers so that's where she was heading. A furious bellow of rage, as if from some massive beast, sounded behind them. Well, at least she wasn't going that way.
Another explosion rocked the floor as the two witches flew around a corner, bursting through a doorway with clear strips of PVC hanging from the frame, into the rear loading dock. They were greeted by the sounds of repulsor and gun fire. Directly in front of them, behind a crate near the doorway they'd just come through, Quentin Beck was curled up, hands over his ears, a terrified expression on his face. Agatha joined him hurriedly, peeking out to take stock of the situation. The doors to the bay were wide open—one had opened normally, but the twisted remains of the other had seemingly been ripped free from its moorings and was nowhere to be seen.
Two of the Wakandan aircraft were already in the air. One cleared the doors only to be dashed to the ground as Agatha watched, its wings snapping off as a red and gold streak slammed into it, bouncing it off the concrete. The second reared up, engines blazing as it exposed its belly, and shot a massive harpoon charged with blue and orange energy at a target the witch couldn't see from her vantage point.
"Get to the flyer on the left. I'll distract them," Eliza's voice came through Beck's collar loud and clear. "Take Beck, if you can."
The scientist whimpered and mumbled something, but Agatha didn't quite catch what he said—not that she really cared. "Come on," she ordered, shoving him with her shoulder. "You heard her. Get moving or I'll pop your damn head myself."
--
I flicked my hands, red wisps of chaos magic intercepting the harpoon that had been shot from the dragon flyer's belly and stopping it dead in midair. Turning, I telekinetically flicked the weapon in a wide arc, its trailing cable snapping and spitting with blue and orange energy, and used it to swat three Iron Legion drones out of the air. I changed focus as I spun, releasing my hold on it and whipping one arm out to the side to catch a pair of Hand ninjas that had darted toward me with a blast of power that sent them flying.
When we'd breached the warehouse, all hell had broken loose, with all three teams immediately encountering heavy resistance. I hadn't been sure what to expect, but there were way more ninjas and drones than I thought there'd be. Pietro had already zoomed off to scout out the building, rapidly feeding us information about the disposition of Eliza's forces and looking to locate Ghost before she was able to mess with anyone else.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a pair of sorcerous portals open and snap shut again, catching the harpoon I'd just discarded and dropping it directly onto another ninja, turning him into little more than a bloody smear on the concrete. Mordo turned away and swung the Staff of the Living Tribunal, the blazing sorcerous energy connecting the segmented sections enhancing the power of the strike as it cratered the chest of an Iron Legion drone, smashing it to the ground in a burst of sparks.
There was the rapid retort of gunfire to my left as Bucky mowed down a half-dozen ninjas who'd been caught in the open. A pair of drones came at him, repulsor beams blazing, and he retreated behind a shipping container for cover before returning fire.
"Does anyone have eyes on the Mark 45?" Clint called through the comms.
Tony flew up from the wreckage of the Wakandan aircraft he'd knocked from the air and came through the loading dock's entrance, blasting another drone out of the air before pausing near the top of the cavernous room for a moment. There was an odd sound that reverberated over the clamour of combat, like a repulsor charging up but deeper and more resonant. A bare moment later, an enormous column of blazing orange and blue energy ripped upwards from behind one of the remaining dragon flyers, almost a dozen feet wide.
Tony reacted fast, trying to evade, but the beam clipped the side of his suit as it tore through the roof, carving a path as it tracked him for a moment before dissipating. Where it had hit, the roof was just gone. No wreckage, no nothing. Tony recovered mid-air just quickly enough to be upright again when the Mark 45 armour dived into the building from above and tackled him out of the air. Once more, he recovered just before hitting the ground, but the other suit blasted him with its repulsors, slamming him to the ground and gouging a literal furrow through the concrete as he was blasted along. The orange beams looked a bit different than I remembered, edged with a blue outline that reminded me of Wakandan sonic tech.
"It's here!" I yelled through my comms, raising hand toward the suit. "Main loading dock!"
I lashed out with wisps of chaos magic but, before I could pull the Mark 45 from the air, I saw a flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye, near where the massive blast had come from a moment ago. A white and red blur lunged toward me and I barely managed to throw up a shield between myself and whatever it was. The figure glanced off, landing hard on the ground next to me before thrusters fired in her feet and sent her in a wide spiral around my shield, coming to rest in a crouch a half-dozen metres away.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't the worst version of Wanda in this or any other universe," Eliza said, grinning at me as she straightened up.
"Fuck you, too," I growled, taking a step back as I looked at her warily, summoning more magic to my hands. I blinked a few times—were the contact lenses working properly? She was wearing the same form as she had when she'd confronted me in the cells in Wakanda, but that had just been a hologram, a projection created with BARF.
The red plasma of her hair was translucent, clearly a hologram, but the rest of her—the mechanical, white-panelled body clearly modelled after my own—seemed solid. One of her arms ended in what looked like a sonic blaster of some kind, the glowing mouth of the barrel stylised to look like a screaming face. She must have made a custom body… We'd been wrong about the Mark 45. My mind raced, trying to work out how I could communicate that to Clint without Eliza overhearing and suspecting something was up.
I opened my comms, not taking my eyes off her. "So this is what you've been wasting your time doing? Making sex dolls that look like me?"
"Me wasting my time?" Eliza glared at me coldly for a moment, then scoffed and shook her head. "That's rich coming from you—what are you even trying to accomplish here? What was the plan? Just go for it and hope you could work out how to stop me on the fly using the Mind Stone? I'm not overly surprised that the Avengers wouldn't think beyond trying to punch me in the face but, honestly, I kind of expected better from you."
"Sorry to disappoint," I said. The longer I could keep her talking, the better. The battle had continued around us—Tony was occupied playing repulsor tag with the Mark 45 while the rest of my team was still being pressed by drones and ninjas—and I risked a quick glance around to check that nothing else was sneaking up on me. "But seriously, this is all you've been doing?"
"Actually, you sort of interrupted a whole big dramatic reveal and betrayal thing I was doing with the Hand, so thanks for that," she said, a tinge of annoyance entering her tone. Tilting her head to the side, she spread her arms in a wide, challenging gesture. "So are you going to take your shot already? Or are you just going to stand there, staring into my eyes?"
The corner of my mouth twitched and I smiled at the reference despite myself. "What was that?" I asked in response, eyes still fixed on her as I shifted my own stance, readying myself for the attack that was definitely going to come next. "Sorry, I was busy staring into your eyes."
"Is anyone else hearing this?" Tony asked in my ear. "I'm not sure flirting with the evil robot copy of yourself is a healthy coping mechanism."
Eliza grinned widely at my acknowledgement, but said nothing as the thrusters in her feet fired and she lunged through the air toward me.