Capítulo 13: Chapter 12 Something beyond
A herd of mammoths grazed peacefully alongside bewildered joggers. On Broadway, neon signs advertising shows flickered between 1950s musicals and operas from a future where humans and machines had merged. Yet inside the Sanctum, a different kind of chaos reigned - the chaos of inaction.
Lucifer Morningstar, stood by a towering window, his silhouette framed by the kaleidoscopic cityscape beyond. His eyes, which had witnessed the birth of galaxies and the death of gods, scanned the horizon with a patient malevolence. Beside him, a holographic display conjured by Tony Stark's tech flickered, mapping the growing anomalies with cold, digital precision.
"Another one," Tony muttered, his fingers dancing over the interface. A red dot bloomed over what should have been the East River. "Looks like the Brooklyn Bridge just got a medieval makeover. We're talking full-on stone arches and... are those gargoyles?"
Steve Rogers, his shield propped against the wall, leaned in to study the map. His face, usually a bastion of unwavering determination, was creased with lines of worry. "How much longer can the city take this?" he asked, his voice low. "People are panicking. The National Guard's already mobilizing, but what can they do against... this?"
"Precious little," Lucifer drawled, his tone one of bored amusement. "Your mortal militaries are quaint, Captain, but they're flinging pebbles at a tsunami. This isn't a battle they can win with guns and gumption."
"Then why aren't we out there?" Clint Barton demanded. The archer was perched on a bookshelf, an arrow nocked and ready, as if the tomes themselves might spring into malevolent life at any moment. "We've got a literal Devil on our side, a handful of the world's mightiest heroes, and we're what? Bird-watching the apocalypse?"
Natasha Romanoff, who had been silently observing the growing tension, stepped forward. "Clint," she said, her voice a calming balm, "you're one of the best strategists I know. You don't take the shot the moment you see movement. You wait, you observe, you find the perfect moment."
"But people are getting hurt!" Clint protested, his grip on the bow tightening. "Every second we spend in here 'observing,' someone out there is facing something they can't possibly understand."
"And if we charge out there half-cocked," Bruce Banner interjected, his voice strained with the effort of keeping the Hulk at bay, "we could make things infinitely worse. This isn't just about saving lives today. It's about saving all lives, in all realities, for all time."
The room fell silent, save for the distant sounds of a city grappling with the impossible. It was Lucifer who broke the silence, his voice carrying the weight of eons. "Your compassion does you credit, archer," he said, and for once, there was no mockery in his tone. "But compassion without wisdom is the road to damnation paved with the noblest intentions. Believe me, I've walked that path."
He turned from the window, fixing each Avenger with a gaze that seemed to peer into the very essence of their being. "You think I don't feel the chaos out there? That I don't hear the whispers of fear, the prayers to absent gods? I do. More keenly than any of you. Each soul in turmoil calls to me, a siren song of delicious anguish. It would be so easy, so tempting, to answer that call."
"But you're not," Steve said, understanding dawning in his eyes. "Because that's exactly what Mephisto wants. He's not just causing chaos; he's baiting us."
"Bravo, Captain," Lucifer smirked, but there was a hint of genuine approval in his voice. "The Lord of All Hells is playing a game as old as sin itself. Chaos breeds desperation. Desperation leads to reckless action. And reckless action, well, that's when the true masters make their move."
"It's a trap," Natasha breathed, her spy's mind putting the pieces together. "These anomalies, they're not just random. They're placed to draw us out, to make us react without thinking."
"Exactly," Lucifer nodded. "Mephisto knows us, knows our... heroic proclivities. He's counting on the Avengers to come swooping in, guns blazing, magic flaring. And in doing so, you'd be dancing to his infernal tune."
"But we can't just do nothing," Bruce said, his voice a mixture of frustration and intellectual curiosity. "These energy readings, they're off the charts. If we don't stabilize these incursions, the very fabric of space-time could unravel."
"And that, my jolly green friend," Lucifer said, "is the truly diabolical part of Mephisto's scheme. He's put us in a position where action and inaction are equally catastrophic. A classic Morton's Fork, with the tines dipped in existential poison."
Tony swore under his breath, his eyes scanning the data with growing alarm. "He's right. These anomalies are spreading exponentially. It's like a cancer in reality. We don't stop it soon, there won't be a multiverse left to save."
"Then we make our move," Steve decided, his voice ringing with the authority that had led armies. "But we do it smart. Doctor Strange, you and Lucifer understand this cosmic chessboard better than anyone. What's our play?"
Before Strange could answer, a tremor ran through the Sanctum, more violent than any before. The floor buckled, ancient tomes tumbled from their shelves, and outside, the sky seemed to fracture, shards of other realities visible through the cracks like a shattered stained-glass window.
"It's accelerating," Strange gasped, his face ashen. He floated up, cloak billowing, and began to chant in a language that predated human civilization. Golden sigils appeared, desperately trying to patch the rents in reality.
"We're out of time," Tony said, his armor assembling around him with a series of metallic clangs. "Cap, we've gotta move, now!"
Steve hesitated for a split second, then nodded. "Avengers, we're going in. Tony, take the skies, coordinate with local authorities. Nat, Clint, ground level, civilian evac. Bruce... we might need the big guy."
Banner nodded grimly, his skin already taking on a greenish hue. "He's been waiting for a reason to come out and play."
As the Avengers prepared to charge into the maelstrom, Lucifer held up a hand. "A moment," he said, his voice carrying an edge of command that even Steve couldn't ignore. "Before you go gallivanting off to play hero, there's something you should know. Something that changes everything."
The team paused, the weight of Lucifer's words holding them in place despite the chaos erupting outside. Even the Hulk, half-emerged, seemed to sense the gravity of the moment.
"Well?" Natasha prompted, her patience wearing thin. "What cosmic bombshell are you dropping on us now?"
Lucifer's eyes glimmered, not with hellfire, but with a cold, ancient knowledge. "Mephisto isn't working alone," he said, and his words seemed to suck the air from the room. "These incursions, they bear the taint of infernal magic, yes. But there's something else, a power that even demons fear to invoke."
"What are you saying?" Steve demanded, his shield ready.
"I'm saying," Lucifer continued, his voice dropping to a whisper that still managed to fill the room, "that our dear friend Mephisto has made a pact with a being older than sin, more insidious than any devil. He's in pact with the Beyonder."
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