A full year had passed since the apocalyptic incident involving the demon Meliodas.
The city he had once reduced to scorched earth had slowly begun to be restored to its former state, driven by massive federal funding and Stark Industries technology. Aside from those who had lost loved ones in that horrific war, the rest of the world was desperately trying to step out of the shadows.
"Tony." Bruce Banner adjusted his glasses, looking at the holographic displays. "Still researching your artificial intelligence project?"
"You mean the Ultron Protocol?" Tony asked, swiping a floating schematic. "Yes."
Tony paused, his expression darkening slightly. "In the last war, we were still vastly short-handed. If we had a global artificial intelligence—something even stronger and more autonomous than J.A.R.V.I.S.—plus a literal Iron Legion of automated armor... even if we couldn't win a direct fight against a god, we could have rescued those civilians much more promptly."
In the previous war against the Demon, the casualties had been catastrophic.
According to post-war statistics, at least six million people had perished. Among them, nearly four million were citizens of New York and the surrounding tri-state area. Of the remaining two million across the Eastern Seaboard, the highest-ranking casualty was the President of the United States, vaporized in the D.C. blast.
Because they had held the line and ultimately facilitated the end of the threat, the Avengers successfully became the most famous, heavily funded superhero organization in the United States.
Regardless of the politics, the members of the Avengers had bled on the front lines of the battlefield. And the one who had finally stopped Meliodas—Princess Elizabeth—was also a magical helper brought in by the Avengers.
At the same time, the name Meliodas became an absolute taboo, a nightmare for the entire United States. Even though the boy was already dead, his hearts destroyed to break the World Item's spell, the American public did not ever want to hear that cursed name again.
"Need some help with the code?" Bruce asked gently. "I happen to be free right now."
"I heard that Thunderbolt Ross has been giving you trouble lately?"
The completely rebuilt Stark Tower had now officially become the primary base of operations for the Avengers.
Tony Stark poured himself a glass of whiskey, shaking his head. Rather than Banner's help with the Ultron code, Tony was more concerned about Banner's personal situation. The Military was never an easy bunch to deal with. Not to mention, the man aggressively targeting Banner was General Thaddeus "Thunderbolt" Ross.
"Uh," Bruce rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "There shouldn't be any major issues with General Ross. It's just... lately, Betty and I have been getting a bit close again, and he's somewhat, violently opposed to it."
Tony held his wine glass and looked at Banner, somewhat speechless. He hadn't expected the usually mild-mannered, honest-looking Dr. Banner to be a bit of a daring ladies' man. Tony shrugged helplessly; he absolutely didn't want to get involved in domestic military disputes.
After Steve Rogers's heroic sacrifice, Tony Stark had successfully and unanimously taken over his position as the leader of the Avengers. Regarding this, Natasha and Clint expressed no objections. Banner went without saying. Both he and Tony Stark were high-intelligence talents and had always shared common ground.
Tony finished his drink and was just about to continue his research when the living room doors hissed open. Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton entered one after another.
"Tony, Bruce. There's something important," Natasha said.
Both Natasha and Hawkeye had entered directly wearing their tactical combat suits, and their expressions were incredibly serious. Seeing this situation, both Tony and Bruce immediately stopped what they were doing.
"Look at this," Natasha said, bypassing the pleasantries. She tapped her wrist console, projecting an encrypted data file into the center of the room.
A shaky, surveillance-style video began playing before their eyes.
[Video Playback: An Abandoned Crossroad, Outskirts of Los Angeles. Nighttime.]
A desolate, dirt crossroad intersected under a pale moon. Two highly eccentric figures appeared before Tony Stark's eyes on the projection.
"John Constantine?" Tony gasped, nearly dropping his glass. "And... Wade Wilson? What the fuck?"
"Shh! Keep watching," Clint muttered.
As soon as the video started playing, Tony Stark cursed out loud with a deeply agitated expression. It had been a long time since he had seen or heard from John Constantine. The silence had honestly made Tony assume the arrogant occultist had died in the Battle of New York. Seeing John's trench-coated figure immediately brought back a flood of highly unpleasant memories.
Natasha glared, interrupting his cursing. Tony poured himself another glass of wine with a look of profound dissatisfaction, leaning against the table as the footage continued to play.
On the screen, John Constantine was burying a small wooden box in the exact center of the dirt crossroads, muttering an incantation.
Then, the ambient lights flickered. A woman in a sharp business suit, with eyes glowing a brilliant, blood-red, abruptly materialized out of thin air.
"Tony Stark?" the demon asked, looking directly at Constantine, her tone laced with dark amusement. "I didn't expect my very first customer to be you."
In the Avengers Tower, Tony Stark violently choked on his whiskey.
"What the fuck?!" Tony yelled, pointing at the projection. "He gave her my name! That bastard used my name for a summoning ritual!"
"I didn't expect it either, Crossroads Demon," Constantine replied smoothly on the video, completely unbothered as he lit a Silk Cut cigarette. "To think it would be my old acquaintance. However, your eyes seem to have changed. Is wearing red colored contacts becoming a new fashion trend in Hell too?"
At the desolate crossroads, the two old acquaintances began to reminisce. There was no sign at all that the two had been mortal enemies just a few years prior.
The demon, Meg Masters, curled her lips into a smirk. She had no intention of seeking revenge on Constantine right now. Although this occultist's previous exorcisms had caused her immense suffering in Hell... they had also ironically allowed her to successfully connect with a much more powerful figure in the hierarchy.
"You mean my eyes?" Meg chuckled, her red irises glowing in the dark as she mockingly addressed him by his alias. "This is all thanks to your holy water... Tony Stark. The torture allowed me to burn away the weakness, going from an ordinary black-eyed demon to a red-eyed one. Rest assured, I have no intention of seeking revenge on you."
Meg looked over at Deadpool, who was currently striking an absurd, dramatic defensive pose with his katanas drawn. She rolled her eyes and explained softly to the two of them.
She truly wasn't lying. Because of Constantine's botched exorcism operations, she had inadvertently been spared hundreds of years of effort. Not only did she get her wish and get promoted to a red-eyed Crossroads Demon, but she also secured a highly lucrative soul-collection quota. Most of the current Kings of Hell had once held this exact job.
"Red-eyed?" Constantine raised an eyebrow, keeping his hands in his pockets. "Your version of Hell seems a bit different from what I've heard in the mainstream texts."
"There has never been just one Hell. Didn't you know?"
Constantine remained calm, using the banter to quietly fish for information. When they had met before, he knew Meg didn't belong to the demonic factions under the Marvel lord, Mephisto. However, he still knew very little about the specific intelligence regarding her branch of the underworld.
He took advantage of the fact that Meg seemed to be in a chatty, good mood to learn more. Only then could he make specific, tactical preparations to screw them over in the future.
"Consider this free intel a reward," Meg said, raising her hand and placing a lady's cigarette between her lips. She snapped her fingers, summoning a spark of hellfire to light it. "Even though it wasn't intentional on your part... I did indeed gain many opportunities because of you."
She exhaled a plume of sulfurous smoke.
"Hell has many fragments and dimensions. The larger pieces among them all have their own sovereign Masters. There is Mephisto. There is Zarathos. And then there is my Master... Lucifer."
At this point, Meg gave John Constantine a deep, meaningful look. Although she didn't fully know what kind of cosmic value this chain-smoking human had... to be specifically targeted by her Master, Lucifer himself... for the sake of her own future, Meg didn't mind getting acquainted with him first on relatively peaceful terms.
"Oh, right," Meg added casually, blowing a puff of smoke toward Constantine. "Recently, some bizarre, sword-wielding warriors calling themselves 'Shinigami'—Gods of Death—have abruptly appeared in the deeper levels of Hell. They've aggressively occupied an entire territory for themselves down there. Be careful if you dabble with souls; those guys aren't nearly as reasonable and business-minded as I am."
After dropping that terrifying lore bomb, Meg smiled warmly, getting down to business.
"But reminiscing with you almost made me forget my actual job. Want to make a deal, Tony?" Meg's red eyes flared. "Within ten years, I can help you achieve absolutely whatever you want. Money, power, reviving the dead... anything. The price... is that you must surrender your soul."
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