"Who do we help?"
Steve's eyes locked on Gabriel, distrust evident. Despite his noble character, he wouldn't easily trust a stranger, even an angel.
His words were more a futile protest. Steve's group was the weakest here, uneasy facing these unfamiliar foes.
"Help? You want to jump into this fight?" Constantine gaped at Steve's notion.
The burning shroud left only ashes and blisters. No mortal could shrug off such holy flames. Vampires, Witch Heart Demon, Hellboy—all were terrifyingly powerful against humans.
"We have to do something," Melinda said, aiming her pistol at Ghost Rider. Coulson quickly pushed her arm down, wary of drawing the Rider's attention.
"Hellboy, clear a path! We won't be your burden," Coulson shouted. Hellboy growled, charging Ghost Rider's frame. The humans' presence hindered him, but with Gabriel's protection, their escape wasn't impossible. They'd avoid the Rider's spreading hellfire.
"I'll escort you out. This party's hardly righteous," Gabriel said, tossing its hair. A golden glow rose from its feet.
Hellboy recoiled at the light, but it freed Witch Heart Demon. The front-line vampire soldiers, unprotected, crumbled into smoke under Gabriel's pure power.
"Constantine!" Witch Heart Demon, skin bubbling, charged at him. Though slightly weaker than Gabriel, the gap wasn't vast. Unlike Mephisto's hapless son Mammon, Witch Heart Demon's strength was undeniable, even if he wasn't adept at energy manipulation. Holy light barely fazed him.
"Gabriel, handle it!" Constantine, heedless of appearances, dragged a dazed John Wick, trailing Hellboy.
Steve blocked Witch Heart Demon's charge with the car door, costing Coulson another piece of his beloved "Laura."
Gabriel caught the flung-back Steve, leading the group's retreat.
Ghost Rider's flaming skull met Hellboy's charge head-on, their size difference stark. The Rider's head smashed into Hellboy's chest, cracking ribs. Hellboy's stone arm swung like a steel pipe, striking the Rider's waist. The flames flickered.
As Ghost Rider crashed into the wall, Steve's team seized the chance to flee.
"I've never hated running this much!" Matt Murdock, at the base's entrance, drew his weapons. Despite the long sprint, his face burned with rage. Chasing demons fueled his barbarian fury.
About to follow the demonic scent inside, he met Constantine.
"John, long time," Matt growled.
John Wick froze. Constantine waved, then bolted past.
"Murdock, the lawyer?" Coulson's eyes lit up, knowing Matt's combat prowess.
"Coulson? So S.H.I.E.L.D.'s sniffing around," Matt sneered, unimpressed by their sacrifices for "stability."
"Time to go in. I'm sick of these demons' stench!" Matt hefted his nail hammer, ready to crush Hell's scum.
As Steve's group passed, Matt stormed inside.
"Who's that?" Hawkeye asked, curious but tactful, avoiding Matt's closed eyes.
Gabriel, suppressing its aura, felt its wounded wings ache at Matt's presence, recalling Bulkatho's towering figure.
"Coulson, who is he?" Hawkeye pressed.
"A barbarian, like Rumlow," Coulson muttered bitterly, haunted by S.H.I.E.L.D.'s past fiascoes as one of Fury's trusted.
Constantine slumped, clutching Mephisto's contract, pondering if its powerless husk could fool Witch Heart Demon. Gabriel's track record didn't inspire trust, and the battlefield felt unbalanced.
"You don't trust me," Gabriel said, relieved as Matt vanished.
"Can you just leave?" Constantine asked.
"Shia!" Matt's roar echoed, interrupting. The fight raged on, and lingering felt wrong.
"Call for backup. Werewolf and Mummy are confirmed dead," Steve ordered, voice heavy with loss.
Melinda handed Coulson her phone.
"Why give me this?" Coulson asked, puzzled.
"I hate that jerk!" Melinda snapped, realizing Coulson had his own phone.
"Fine." Coulson returned hers, dialing quickly.
Hawkeye eyed Constantine, words unspoken, as clanging and Matt's curses at the Rider echoed from the passage.
Ghost Rider wasn't here to judge sin—he sought the Saint Van Helsing Contract, its scent still clinging to Constantine.
(Chapter End)
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