Fury caught the strange silence on the channel and immediately asked, "Stark, what's the situation? The nuke?"
"Turned into a pigeon."
"A pigeon?" Fury thought he'd misheard.
"That's right. White. The kind that coos." Tony emphasized.
Fury assumed Tony was joking and started to say something, then stopped.
He'd already guessed.
Besides Hermione, who else could pull something like that?
What kind of magic was this?
An advanced form of turning stone into gold?
Turning nukes into pigeons?
Hermione tucked away her nuclear peace dove and looked at Natasha. "Close it."
Natasha snapped back to herself and moved quickly to comply.
The Scepter of the Mind touched the Cosmic Cube. The blue light faded slowly, and the portal sealed shut.
"One last thing." Hermione murmured to herself, and then she was gone.
The next second, she appeared in the control hall of the Helicarrier.
"Fury." Her voice was completely calm.
Fury's stomach dropped.
He'd actually have preferred her angry. Anger meant the situation wasn't that bad. But she couldn't even be bothered to get angry, and that could only mean one thing.
You don't get angry at dead people.
The moment those idiots on the World Security Council decided to drop a nuke on Manhattan, he'd known this was going to go badly. He'd tried everything to stop them. It hadn't been enough.
Fury didn't think a nuclear bomb could touch Hermione. But he knew her personality better than that. This woman settled every score, every slight, without exception.
"Miss Witch, let me explain—" Fury tried.
He knew the Council's stupidity had set her off, but he still wanted to keep this from escalating. Those people represented ordinary human power. If Hermione actually killed them, it could spark a war between wizards and non-magical people. That was the last thing he wanted.
"Explain?" Hermione's smile was cold. "They tried to nuke me. Am I supposed to thank them?"
"I—" Fury had nothing.
She wasn't wrong. Nobody targeted by a nuclear bomb could just let it go.
"Tell me who gave the order." She took a step forward.
Fury hesitated.
Hermione watched him stay silent and decided she was done wasting time.
"Legilimens!"
Straight to force.
Fury felt a powerful mental presence slam into his mind. He had no way to resist. Countless memories surged into Hermione's head like a breaking wave.
"Good." She nodded.
Fury's face went white. He knew she'd seen everything she needed.
"Miss Witch, please , calm down—" He made one last attempt.
Hermione didn't even look at him. She Apparated away.
---
At the World Security Council, several members sat stiffly in their chairs, waiting for word.
Hermione materialized in the center of the conference room without warning.
The councilors froze, staring at the person who had appeared from nowhere.
"You , how are you here?"
One of them recognized her face and asked in naked terror.
They'd watched the whole thing on the main screen. Hermione on the New York battlefield. The lightning. The ice. The fire. That eerie green light. And the man-eating turnips.
This was no little witch. This was a demoness straight out of hell.
And they had just tried to blow that demoness into the sky with a nuclear bomb.
If it had worked, fine. It hadn't worked. And now she was here.
One bald councilor, apparently his brain hadn't caught up yet, actually had the nerve to put on his official face. He slammed the table and jabbed a finger at her.
"Who are you! How dare you barge in, "
"Sectumsempra."
Hermione didn't even lift an eyelid. A lazy flick of her wand.
Invisible blades spun like a meat grinder. The bald councilor didn't get to finish his sentence. His body came apart in forty or fifty pieces and collapsed into a wet, mangled heap.
Dumpling filling.
Blood sprayed across the faces and clothes of every councilor nearby. The smell hit the room all at once, thick and copper-sharp.
"Ugh, "
A few of them vomited where they sat.
The rest weren't much better. Every face had gone the color of chalk. Every body was shaking. More than a few trousers showed faint signs of dampness.
Hermione looked around the room. Her gaze was flat and cold, the look of someone surveying livestock.
"Who gave the order to drop the nuke?"
The councilors glanced at each other, then, almost in unison, every head turned toward one person.
Several of them were cursing that person internally.
None of them had agreed to launch. Only the pile of mush on the floor and Gideon Malick had pushed for it. Under council procedure, two votes was all it took.
Gideon Malick, freshly sold out by his colleagues, went the color of paper.
Hermione's gaze settled on him.
His lips trembled. He tried anyway.
"I , I am a councilor of the World Security Council! You , you can't, "
He blustered, all bark and no substance.
"By doing this , are you trying to start a war? A war between wizards and ordinary people?"
Hermione said nothing. She just watched him.
CRACK. CRACK.
Sharp bone-splitting sounds rang out from nowhere.
Malick didn't see it happen. One moment he was upright; the next, all four of his limbs were wrenched into impossible angles, twisted like rope.
The pain hit him all at once.
"AHHH!!"
The scream tore out of him. He tried to move, to struggle, and couldn't. Something invisible had locked him completely in place.
The room went silent. Every remaining councilor held their breath, heads down, not one of them willing to meet Hermione's eyes.
"Miss Witch, please , we have no wish to be your enemy." A female councilor forced the words out. "Today was a misunderstanding. Please, calm yourself."
Hermione ignored her. She grabbed Malick.
"Apparition!"
Both of them vanished, leaving nothing behind but the blood on the floor.
The councilors let out a collective breath. Their backs were soaked through with cold sweat.
"Damn it all."
It took a while before the anger came. They weren't used to being treated like this, not one of them. But when they thought about what she'd done in that room, what she was capable of, the anger had nowhere to go. They could only curse the two idiots who'd brought this down on everyone.
---
Hermione reappeared above the city.
Gideon Malick hung suspended in the air beside her, held by nothing visible, all four limbs bent at wrong angles, a picture of complete wretchedness.
"Talk," Hermione said, her voice perfectly level. She casually cast a Sonorus Charm on him. "Why did you order a nuke dropped on Manhattan?"
Gideon Malick said nothing.
➤ Next: The End of the Invasion
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