Pietro cycled through several news channels to the same word and video.

Infernal Knight

Infernal Knight

Infernal knight.

He finally settled on one channel hosted by a young J. Jonas Jameson— future spidey's biggest detractor.

"This so-called Infernal Knight is unlike anything we've ever seen," he said steadily.

A video started to play. It was of me wielding short swords as I ripped through the supersoldiers, threatening a woman. I remembered it clearly. It happened just before I hurried over to Tony Stark. The video slowed down, yet it looked like I was skipping through frames. The video froze after I burned one of the infected soldiers, turning them to ash.

"He's a true monster, and unlike anything we've seen so far. He can control literal hellfire, and he seems to be on speaking terms with the some of the mutant freaks who tried leveling the city."

Another still popped up. It was of me trading words with Bastille and Thabo before the fight started.

"This is like what happened 20 years ago, but worse. The mutants are attacking again, but this time they have an army and a potential inside man on their side. Don't let 'heroics' fool you. He ripped through his kind and burned human beings like they were things and not people. Those are the actions of a psychopath masquerading as one of the good guys. And if you can't see that, I fear for all of us.

Fucking Jameson with his conspiracy theory bullshit. I swallowed a gulp of whisky and waved at Pietro, who sat beside me. "Turn that shit down. I've heard enough."

"Well, I haven't," he complained, but he did as I asked. "Where's my close up in the lime light. I did help save New York and the campus!"

"If it will get the news reporter off my ass, I'd gladly swap places with you." I said as I picked up the whiskey bottle on the table of the abandoned bar and poured myself another half-glass.

Jean, who'd been lingering in the corner, spoke. "Don't let it get to you."

"Well, that's a little hard not to be a bit upset when you spent the better part of your day killing demons and negotiating with a deranged Cambion," I said. "It's one thing if the world doesn't know about you, it's another if they blame you."

"Come on, no one in their right mind will blame you. You're a fucking hero, boss!" Rin hollered. He'd been sitting in the corner, making googly eyes at Wanda. They'd been sharing a telepathic conversation that Pietro had been quietly monitoring with one eye.

"Some won't see it that way," Magneto said from the bar's edge. He'd been repeatedly stretching and folding his hand after I gave him the potion. "He might've saved New York from certain destruction, but all they will focus on is hellfire breathing monster. People fear what they don't understand, and soon, they will hate you just as much as they hate me."

There was a stretch of silence before I spoke.

"I doubt that. Trying to take over the white house should rank higher on the totem pole than Fire breathing vigilante."

"I suppose we will see, won't we?" Magneto said as he got up and walked through the shattered wall of the bar. I let out a groan and shook my head.

"Why are you bothered by this?" Wanda asked. "After the speech you gave to the demon, I just assumed you didn't care what people thought?"

"I don't," I said, "not really, but I have a hunch about how all this plays out, and I don't like it one bit."

If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

"See the future?" Pietro asked.

"More like lived through enough shit to see the dagger coming for my back," I swallowed another gulp and poured myself another glassful. I could've handled the bombing better, but I have flipped it over and over again and couldn't arrive at a better choice given our time. The mind control should've been undetectable given how skilled Jean had gotten with it, and Domina's domain was Density, not fucking mental magic!

The entire thing was fucked. It should've worked, yet the bitch had somehow been ahead of us this whole fucking time.

I emptied the glass with a single gulp.

This was my screw-up, and either way Fury chooses to play this, there will be hell to pay.

"I can't tell you how much of a bummer being unable to stay buzzed is."

My active regeneration got rid of it before I got the chance I could feel the full effect.

"You telling me!" Pietro chuckled. "Try having the metabolism of a speedster."

I raised my glass to him. "To drinking alcohol for the taste."

Pietro laughed. "Said nobody ever."

---

Tony Stark

I reached Fury's office just as he finished his meeting and caught the tail-end of their screaming match. It was about the New York attack and the bombing at Culver University. I could barely make out the muffling, but I picked up enough.

"You need to get out in front of this…"

"The smart ones have already put it together. They know the things that attacked New York are probably not mutants…"

"I'd be putting him in the line of fire," Fury argued.

"He'd be in no actual physical danger," one voice argued. "After his display in New York, there's only a handful of people on file that could possibly oppose him?"

"Still, he's not going to like this," Fury said.

"He doesn't have to like his orders to follow them," someone said, "Or are you maybe admitting to have finally lost control of your demon?"

"He's been cooperative from the start," Fury said. "Don't start a fight we cannot finish right now."

"You have your orders, Fury," someone said. "Get to it so that we can put this mess behind us.

They talked for several more minutes before Fury emerged from his office with an exasperated look.

"How much of that did you hear?"

"A little too much," I said. "What do they want you to do to the kid?"

"Something we might live to regret," he said enigmatically.

"No secrets, Fury. Remember that was our deal."

Fury did not answer for a long moment.

"They want me to blame him for the bombings."

"What!" I blurted out. "The white-haired Goth chick set off those bombs."

"After Dante and his girlfriend provoked her by installing a killswitch in the mind of her lieutenants."

I scoffed. "You saw the specs on that psychopath. What he could do to people? Trading him in intact was the wrong call."

Fury didn't disagree. "It doesn't change the fact that he made the call."

"And you rubber stamped it," I said, "and now you're leaving him out to dry?"

"Left up to me I'd give him a medal for what he managed to pull off. And if he was anybody else, I would've to bat for him, but the kid is playing his own angle, and I have to play mine."

I didn't like how he was playing this, but at least he was somewhat upfront with me.

"He's going to get crucified by the media," Fury said, "but he's the hero that saved New York and help stop a catastrophic attack on the Culver Campus. With enough PR management, he'll bounce back just fine."

PR help that Fury will be providing moments after raking him over the coals.

"You said the kid had an angle, What's yours Fury?"

"It's about time I showed you why I brought you here."

We stopped in front of a wall panel with a classical painting of the Greek God Prometheus, except instead of being bound, he shattered his chains and sent the vulture and snakes to feast on him running.

"Prometheus Free," Fury said. "An old classic I found from an obscure painter."

I raised a brow. "You could've taken me to a museum if you wanted to show me weird art, Fury. What's behind the wall?"

"How we win," Fury said and took a step forward. A tiny panel beside the painting opened, and a light flashed, scanning Fury's eye. With a loud hiss, the wall holding the painting slipped into the wall, revealing an elevator. We climbed onto it together, and the Elevator took us down a few dozen floors to an open construction area with hundreds of people milling about. Machine whirred, light flickered, and at the room's center was a metal giant twice as tall as most men. It was missing its head, yet I still recognized it.

"Is that one of Trask's designs?" I asked with a squint and some jealousy. My humanoid robotic projects had fallen to the wayside in favor of military contracts.

"I've read your patents," Fury said. "And while I know that Trask might look like he's ahead now, his works has nothing on your concepts and prototypes. I'd like you to start your program again with full military funding, learning what you can from Trask's work. Dante is great, but we can't always rely on him."

I almost tuned Fury out as I drank in the sights. My mind whirred at the possibilities, and I thanked my lucky stars for working out something concrete. Still, I was convinced I'd come out with the shorter end of the deal.

"I'll be bringing in my own team, and I want full control," I said.

"But you'll do it?"

"I will," I grinned.