Downtown Salem – Night
The air still burned from the fight. Smoke drifted over cracked pavement, and the last embers of Hellfire faded into the dark.
Gravemind dissolved from Dante's hand in a swirl of crimson fire, fading into the air like all his Devil Arms.
A beam of light shot up from the heart of town, slicing through the clouds like a spear. The night twisted around it, tearing open a small, bleeding wound above the old church. Crimson light poured down like rain.
Dante groaned. "So much for dinner."
His flip phone buzzed in his coat pocket, the vibration sharp against the sudden silence. He flipped it open with a metallic click.
"Devil May Cry. Dante speaking."
Elsa's voice cut through the static—irritated, all business.
"Change of plans, Dante. Head to the church in the middle of town. There's an underground facility beneath it—something's waking up down there."
"Figures." Dante glanced at the sky, the red light reflecting off his coat. "Can't even get five minutes to breathe."
He snapped the phone shut and turned to Illyana, who was still watching the wound in the clouds.
"So, before the world goes to hell again—what's your name and number? You know, for professional reasons."
Illyana blinked, caught off guard. "It's—"
A heavy metallic thud cut her off.
Colossus stepped up behind her, folding his arms, silver eyes narrowing down at Dante.
"You will not be calling my sister," he said flatly.
Dante blinked, then smirked. "Not even for business?"
"No," Colossus said without hesitation.
Dante shrugged, flipping Rebellion over his shoulder as the ground began to shake again. "Eh. Worth a shot."
The street cracked, the air burning red as new demons clawed their way up from the tear above the church.
They landed in droves—bone, smoke, and molten light hissing against the rain-soaked asphalt.
Scott's visor flared. "Storm—take care of the airborne units."
Lightning cracked overhead, thunder rolling through the streets as she answered with a nod.
Dante sighed, drawing Gravemind. "Guess the after-party's here."
The weapon pulsed, alive and eager.
Logan's claws slid free with a metallic snikt. "You take left, I'll take right."
Dante grinned, twirling Gravemind once. "Sure thing, old man. Try to keep up."
Logan snorted. "Just don't get in my way, hotshot."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Dante said, already moving.
Before he could advance, one of the airborne demons fired a volley of energy projectiles straight at him.
A hulking giant—the same one who had shot him down earlier for asking his sister's number—stepped in front of him and tanked the hits.
"Stay behind me!" Colossus barked, bracing as another demon slammed into his chest. The impact rang like a gong.
"Sure thing, metal man," Dante quipped, giving him a half-hearted salute.
Colossus gave him a side glare before charging another cluster of demons, tanking more projectiles without flinching.
Dante spun the scythe once and swung. A wave of dark fire ripped through the first line of demons, scattering them like ash in a storm.
Jean raised a hand, her telekinetic barrier catching debris before it could hit the team.
Illyana teleported past another demon, her Soulsword cutting clean through its torso before she blinked behind the next one. The golden light of her blade carved a trail through the smoke.
Dante whistled between shots. "You teleport around swinging a magic sword—guess that makes you, what, a magical girl?"
Illyana shot him a glare mid-swing. "Excuse me?"
Dante thought about it for a second, firing Gravemind's rifle mode into another demon's head. "Nah, too anime. Don't want you paying royalties."
He spun the weapon back into scythe form, grinning. "How about just Magik?"
She blinked, almost smirking despite herself. "Magik?"
"Yeah," he said, cutting another demon in half. "Simple. Fits."
Shaw Industries Underground Observation Lab – Beneath Salem
Elsa slipped her StarkPhone back into her coat pocket, the call with Dante barely over when the lab shuddered again.
The red light spilling from the cracked ceiling flickered against shattered glass and half-dead monitors. She steadied herself against a console, watching the crimson glow pulse like a heartbeat through the steel walls.
Her eyes tracked the tremors across the ceiling—the old church foundation above groaning under the weight of the beam still tearing skyward.
The observation window vibrated, hairline fractures crawling across its surface.
She sighed. "What the fuck did you send us, Agent Coulson?"
A faint metallic clink echoed behind her.
Elsa drew her pistol without hesitation and turned.
A figure in a tattered black robe stood at the edge of the room. The dagger in his hands glowed faintly red, runes pulsing along the blade.
"Use my body as a vessel, oh great Mephisto," the cultist whispered.
Before Elsa could react, the man raised the blade toward his chest—but a black heel slammed into his jaw, sending him sprawling across the floor.
Black Cat stepped into the room like she owned it, her black suit gleaming in the red light. Her goggles caught the glow as she flicked imaginary dust off her shoulder.
"Hey there, babe," she said with a grin. "Miss me?"
Elsa exhaled, lowering her gun slightly, irritation flickering across her face.
"Oh. It's you."
Black Cat smirked beneath her goggles. "You say that like you're not thrilled to see me."
Elsa arched a brow. "Thrilled isn't the word I'd use."
Black Cat shrugged and tossed a small USB drive at her. Elsa caught it effortlessly.
"What's this about?"
Felicia smiled and nodded toward the main computer in the observation room.
"Guess who's been experimenting on people—combining demon DNA with human?"
Elsa's expression hardened. "You'd better be joking."
Felicia's grin faded. "I wish I was."
Elsa didn't hesitate. She slid the USB drive into the port beside the cracked console. The screen flickered to life, static rolling across old Shaw Industries security overlays.
The logo glowed faintly through the interference — SHAW INDUSTRIES – BIOENERGY DIVISION.
Lines of corrupted text scrolled upward, but a few files opened cleanly: video thumbnails, research logs, shipment records.
Felicia leaned over her shoulder, her smirk gone.
"Looks like Shaw's been busy."
The first file played automatically — grainy black-and-white footage from a containment chamber.
Human test subjects strapped to operating tables, their veins pulsing with red light.
Technicians in hazmat suits injected them with glowing fluid — the same crimson hue as the beam tearing through the sky above.
Elsa's jaw tightened. "Demon DNA infusion trials… this isn't experimentation. It's mutilation."
Felicia crossed her arms. "And those poor bastards aren't the first. Scroll down."
Elsa did — and another file opened. A logistics manifest:
TRANSPORT LOG – CLASSIFIED
ORIGIN: Red Hook Terminal, Brooklyn
DESTINATION: Facility S-13, Salem Underground
STATUS: Cleared for offload – 27 subjects
Elsa froze, eyes narrowing. "Red Hook Terminal…"
The usual flirty Felicia was long gone. "Yep. That same one."
The next image appeared — security footage from the terminal itself.
Men in masks loading containers into unmarked trucks.
Inside one frame, the Shaw Industries insignia was visible — faint but unmistakable — stamped across a crate.
Elsa muttered under her breath. "So Shaw's been using Fisk's network to feed his experiments."
She exhaled slowly, her anger measured, controlled. "And Coulson conveniently forgot to mention this part."
Felicia smirked bitterly. "Government types always leave out the fun details."
Elsa zoomed in on one of the open files, decrypting the next segment. The screen glitched before stabilizing on a series of scanned documents — Shaw Industries internal memos stamped with EXECUTIVE PRIORITY.
The heading read:
PROJECT: GOLIATH INITIATIVE
OBJECTIVE: Sustainable energy through controlled Hellfire conversion
AUTHOR: Sebastian Shaw – CEO, Shaw Industries
Elsa frowned. "Energy project? Seriously? He's opening a Hell portal for profit?"
She scrolled further. Felicia stayed silent — she'd already read these files while downloading them.
Another memo appeared — handwritten notes from Shaw himself, his penmanship sharp and deliberate.
"Our competitors chase fusion. We'll harness something older.
Hellfire isn't a myth — it's raw, self-sustaining plasma.
Infinite energy. Infinite power.
Mephisto's domain is the source, and I intend to build the conduit."
Elsa massaged her forehead. "Oh, that's not going to backfire at all."
She froze as she scrolled further.
"Mephisto informed me that Dante Sparda's interference is inevitable, but the plan continues. The portal must open, even if it fails. He has already provided a countermeasure."
She scrolled again — another file name appeared at the bottom of the list.
PROJECT NAME: Sentinel Inferna Mk-I Program
PROJECT STATUS: Redacted. Insufficient clearance. Access restricted to 'Need-to-Know' personnel.
Elsa frowned. "What is this?"
She turned to Felicia, who shook her head. "I'm as in the dark as you, babe. The only thing I know is whatever it is—it's at the bottom of this facility."
New York City – The Following Minute
The city was never quiet, not even at midnight — until the sky tore open.
Cameras caught it first. A blinding crimson beam punched through the clouds over Salem, spiraling upward like lightning frozen in reverse.
Traffic stopped. Cell phones rose. Within seconds, every news feed in New York lit up with the same headline:
BREAKING NEWS – MYSTERIOUS ENERGY BEAM ERUPTS OVER MASSACHUSETTS
"Experts report an unexplained atmospheric rupture spreading from the Salem region. Military response underway."
Helicopters circled the skyline. The light stretched so high it reflected off the glass towers of Manhattan like a second dawn — blood-red and pulsing.
At a small S.H.I.E.L.D. safehouse in Hell's Kitchen, Agent Phil Coulson stood on the balcony, coffee mug in hand, watching the spectacle with weary eyes.
He muttered under his breath, "Goddammit, Dante. I thought you'd do this quieter."
The agent beside him glanced up nervously. "Should we alert the Director?"
Coulson took a long sip of coffee, eyes never leaving the sky. "He's already watching."
He set the mug down and turned toward the command terminal. "Patch me into the Massachusetts feed. And for God's sake, tell the press it's not aliens this time."
Queens – A Rooftop Somewhere
Spider-Man perched on a water tower, mask half-pulled up as he ate a cold slice of pizza.
The sudden red glow painted the city around him, washing the skyline in eerie color.
He froze, staring toward the distant beam piercing the night sky.
"Okay…" he muttered, swallowing the bite. "That's definitely not the sunrise."
The wind carried a faint rumble from miles away — like thunder with a heartbeat. Peter's eyes narrowed behind the mask.
He sighed. "Never a dull moment on your end, huh, Dante?"
Sliding his mask fully down, he web-zipped off the tower and disappeared into the city glow.