When Agent Clint Barton brought Peter Parker to the S.H.I.E.L.D. base, Agent Phil Coulson was in the middle of receiving medical treatment.
"Coulson, what happened here?" Barton asked urgently.
Coulson, noticing their arrival, waved him off weakly. "Give me a moment."
"Ah!" Coulson winced as the medic accidentally pressed too hard on his wound. After the treatment was complete, he looked up and said, "The Tesseract has been stolen. But I managed to plant a tracker on the case they used to take it."
"What's the Tesseract?" Peter asked, his face a picture of curiosity.
"It's a massive energy source," Coulson replied.
"Then what are we waiting for?" Peter, eager to prove himself, jumped up and moved toward the door. Realizing the others weren't moving, he awkwardly sat back down.
"This is urgent," Coulson continued. "The attackers were disturbingly familiar with our base layout. I suspect a mole within S.H.I.E.L.D. Director Fury has ordered a low-profile operation for now, so it's just the two of you."
The setting shifted to a desolate desert town near Las Vegas in the American West. It was a forgotten place, visited by few over the years. Today, however, two strangers had arrived: Mephisto and Carrigan.
Mephisto had chosen the location deliberately—it was isolated, ideal for avoiding unwanted attention.
As they entered the town's only diner, the owner greeted them warmly. "What can I get for you folks?"
"Beer," Carrigan grunted impatiently.
"Something to fill the stomach," Mephisto said disinterestedly. His current human host needed sustenance, though he despised the frailty of human bodies. The only thing that brought him any joy was the promise of delicious souls soon to be claimed.
Carrigan took a swig of beer but immediately spat it out, grimacing. "This stuff's awful."
"This town seems quiet. How many people live here?" Mephisto asked, ignoring Carrigan's complaint.
The owner launched into a lengthy explanation about the town's dwindling population, but Mephisto only cared about one detail: there were roughly three hundred residents.
After their meal—paid for with nothing but a trail of destruction—they left the diner in silence.
Night fell over the small town. Most of its aging residents retired early, oblivious to the darkness creeping into their midst.
Possessing the Tesseract alone wasn't enough for Mephisto's plan. To tear open a rift between Earth and the depths of Hell, he needed to construct a massive demonic ritual circle. The ritual required souls both to anchor the portal and to mask the demonic energy from the prying eyes of Earth's defenders.
Mephisto moved silently through the town, killing several people and using their blood to sketch a sprawling demonic sigil encircling the area.
Carrigan observed with a mix of awe and impatience. Though he couldn't grasp the full complexity of the ritual, he longed for the day Mephisto would grant him eternal life, naively trusting the demon's promises.
When the sigil was complete, crimson runes flared across the ground. A blazing orange barrier enveloped the town, and the slumbering townsfolk began to burn where they lay. Screams of terror briefly echoed before their bodies crumbled to ash.
From the ashes, translucent souls drifted into the air, drawn irresistibly toward the sigil's center.
Exhausted from his efforts, Mephisto instructed Carrigan: "I need a full day to commune with Hell. Keep watch at the town's perimeter. If anything disrupts the ritual, you will not enjoy the consequences."
"Yes, my lord!" Carrigan replied eagerly, his fear of Mephisto eclipsed by his excitement.
Mephisto opened the container housing the Tesseract. As he chanted an incantation, the cube floated into the air, glowing with an ethereal blue light that mingled with the sigil's fiery red glow.
Meanwhile, Parker and Barton had tracked the Tesseract using its sporadic signal. After hours of pursuit through the desert, they finally arrived near the town.
"Mr. Barton, can't we rest for a bit? It's late!" Peter complained, shining his flashlight through the dusty terrain.
"You don't understand how serious this is," Barton snapped. Frustrated by Parker's casual attitude, he muttered under his breath, questioning Fury's decision to recruit a high schooler, even one enhanced by his newfound powers.
"Damn it! The signal's gone again!" Barton smacked the tracker in frustration.
"Mr. Barton, look!" Peter exclaimed, pointing. In the distance, an orange glow illuminated the dark horizon.
"That's where the signal cut out," Barton said grimly. "Let's move."
At the town's center, the ritual reached its climax. Mephisto's incantations summoned a towering, translucent demonic figure. Its body glowed with hellish red light, massive horns jutted from its head, and leathery wings unfurled menacingly from its back.
"What... what is that? A demon?" Parker stammered, terrified but unwilling to abandon Barton.
Carrigan, patrolling the outskirts, spotted the intruders. He smirked, delighted by the prospect of causing them pain. "What are you doing here?" he demanded.
Recognizing Carrigan as Mephisto's lackey, Barton drew his bow and fired a volley of arrows. Parker, relying on his enhanced reflexes and Spider-Sense, dodged a plume of gray mist Carrigan hurled in retaliation. With a few quick moves, Parker ensnared Carrigan in webbing.
But the ritual wasn't finished. The souls of the townsfolk, still hovering near the sigil, began to shift toward Barton and Parker under Mephisto's command.
"We need to retreat!" Parker shouted, unnerved by the ghostly apparitions. His attacks passed harmlessly through them.
Realizing they couldn't disrupt the ritual alone, Barton nodded. "Let's regroup and inform Fury."
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