Rex Viper quickly deciphered the horn's function through the system, and the answer made his pulse spike.
Teleportation.
Based on his deductions, although the Beast had originally entered Earth through the Hand's summoning ritual, it hadn't relied on that alone. It had secretly constructed this teleportation key as a backup plan. The horn wasn't just a relic—it was a pathway, a tool designed for interdimensional movement.
However, things weren't that simple.
Earth was protected by a powerful magical barrier, which meant the horn couldn't directly connect the Beast Dimension to this world. Instead, it required an intermediary—Hell. That dimension was far more closely linked to Earth, and through certain specialized methods, it could bypass the oversight of sanctuaries that guarded against direct incursions.
The system effortlessly cracked the usage method of the Beast Horn, laying it out in Rex's mind with brutal clarity.
At the same time, Rex had just acquired the Demonized Body from the Demon God. That meant something critical—he could now use demonic energy as a power source. In other words, he had everything necessary to activate the horn.
He could go to Hell.
Or even the Beast Dimension.
Of course, stepping into the Beast Dimension would probably get him torn apart instantly by the Beast's true form. That wasn't even a question. But just because he couldn't go himself didn't mean he couldn't send something else.
A grin slowly crept onto his face as a dangerous idea took shape.
"If that works…" he muttered under his breath, his thoughts racing.
Somewhere out there, a certain girl who specialized in extremely explosive "deliveries" suddenly became very relevant.
"Hey, little nuke seller," Rex murmured to himself, almost amused. "Business is about to boom."
Before he could dwell on it further, a sudden burst of fire ignited in front of him. The flames twisted and spun, forming a circular portal that stabilized into a glowing ring. From within it, a bald woman in flowing yellow robes stepped out calmly.
Rex's expression shifted immediately.
Without drawing attention, he tightened his grip on the Beast Horn behind his back. With a single thought, black scales spread across his hand, muscles swelling as his fingers elongated into clawed, demonic appendages. The horn itself emitted a faint glow, reacting to the energy.
Outwardly, though, he remained composed.
"Master Ancient One," he said evenly, his tone carrying a faint edge. "You're a little late. Didn't expect you to slack off on your duties."
Ancient One studied him for a moment, her gaze calm and unreadable. Then she gave a slight shake of her head.
"There's no need to be so tense," she said. "I'm not here to harm you."
Rex let out a soft scoff, spreading his hands slightly as if the accusation amused him. "Tense? I just saved New York. I should be the one getting thanked."
She sighed quietly, as if recalling something far removed from the present chaos. "A few months ago, certain… creditors came to collect debts from me. Their terms were rather unreasonable, so I paid them a visit instead."
Her tone remained mild, but the implication behind those words was anything but.
"I didn't expect it to take so long," she continued. "In my absence, some matters here were neglected."
Rex's eyelid twitched.
The way she described it sounded almost casual, but the reality behind those words was obvious. Someone had tried to collect a debt they shouldn't have, and she had responded in kind—by paying them a visit they wouldn't forget.
He didn't bother voicing that thought.
Ancient One glanced around at the battlefield, her gaze sweeping over the destruction, the lingering energy, and the aftermath of the Beast's presence.
"You handled the situation well," she said simply.
She raised her hand and made a subtle pulling motion. Wisps of black mist scattered through the air converged toward her palm—residual fragments of the Beast's power. With a single squeeze, the energy dissipated completely, erased as if it had never existed.
In the distance, the chaotic howling and madness that had gripped the city began to fade.
Then her eyes returned to Rex.
"Don't worry," she added. "Your fate is already tied to this world. I won't interfere with you."
Rex's brow furrowed slightly. "Even if I'm not from here?"
"Fate follows its own path," she replied. "Those who try to forcefully change it rarely end well. When your perspective extends beyond time, space, and even the universe itself, you'll understand that life and death, good and evil, existence and disappearance… they are all part of a larger balance."
She paused briefly before continuing.
"I don't need more hands to maintain that balance. And I cannot have them."
Rex tilted his head slightly, unconvinced. "Then why bother protecting this world at all?"
A faint smile appeared on her lips.
"Habit," she said. "And responsibility. I intend to pass that responsibility on someday, but it requires the right successor."
Rex's eyes lit up immediately, enthusiasm flashing across his face.
"Me. Pick me," he said without hesitation. "I'm clearly a once-in-a-generation genius. Supreme Sorcerer has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"
Ancient One chuckled softly and shook her head.
"I've already told you. Fate cannot be forced."
Rex let out an exaggerated sigh, clearly disappointed, before quickly recovering. His eyes shifted slightly as a new thought formed.
"Well, if that's the case," he said, tone turning casual, "I just helped you solve a pretty big problem. How about a small reward?"
She raised an eyebrow. "What do you want?"
Rex pretended to think for a moment. "A few scrolls from the Sanctum's restricted collection?"
"No."
"A copy of the Book of Vishanti?"
"No."
He clicked his tongue softly, as if he had expected nothing less. Those weren't his real targets anyway.
"Alright, then how about this," he said, leaning forward slightly. "Teach me that trick of yours… the one where you 'borrow' from your creditors."
Ancient One went silent for a moment.
Then, unexpectedly, she nodded.
"That can be arranged," she said. "But you're far too weak right now. If you attempt it as you are, the consequences would be fatal."
Her gaze sharpened slightly.
"When you're strong enough, come find me. I'll teach you… how to borrow."
With that, she turned and stepped back into the portal. The ring of fire collapsed inward and vanished, leaving nothing behind.
Rex exhaled slowly, tension easing from his shoulders. A flicker of excitement lit up his expression.
That method—her way of "borrowing"—was no ordinary trick. It was one of the most dangerous abilities he had ever encountered.
"When I get that…" he muttered, a grin spreading across his face, "I'm going shopping across every dimension."
With Ancient One gone, he turned his attention back to the aftermath.
The first person he went to check on was Wade.
He wasn't hard to find—an arrow was still lodged in his knee, making him stand out immediately. Fortunately, he was still alive. Rex pushed what little dragon energy he had left into Wade's body, stabilizing his heartbeat.
"Close one," he muttered. "Would've been a nightmare explaining that."
Next came Blade.
His physique was strong enough that, despite being unconscious, his life wasn't in immediate danger. After confirming that, Rex moved on to Natasha, then Ward and Rumlow. Each one of them was accounted for, though in varying conditions.
One absence, however, stood out.
Nick Fury was nowhere to be found.
Rex frowned slightly, scanning the area again. "That's strange…"
What he didn't know was that Fury had already regained consciousness earlier. The moment he saw Rex defeat the Beast, he didn't celebrate. He didn't even hesitate. He simply crawled away as quietly as possible and disappeared into the chaos.
Now, he was curled up somewhere in the shadows, breathing heavily, trying to steady himself.
The battle was over.
But the cost had been severe.
Agent May had fallen in combat. Coulson had lost an arm. Clint Barton… had lost an eye.
New York had paid dearly.
The earthquake had forced countless civilians into the streets, and the Beast's influence had spread at the worst possible moment. Fear and panic had shattered already fragile minds, turning ordinary people into something far more dangerous.
Violence erupted everywhere.
Looting. Arson. Murder.
The city descended into something that could only be described as hell on earth.
If nothing changed, the entire city would be mourning within days.
As Rex prepared to leave, a brilliant streak of light cut across the horizon, descending from beyond the atmosphere.
He glanced up briefly, unimpressed.
"Late as always," he muttered.
Then he looked away.
An hour later, far from the destruction, a heavily guarded luxury yacht sat docked at a small pier on Staten Island.
Vanessa, Wesley, and their men had been waiting in tense silence.
Finally, Wesley received a call.
When he ended it, his expression had darkened.
"Ma'am…" he said carefully. "The boss… isn't coming."
Vanessa turned to him sharply. "Why?"
He hesitated for a fraction of a second. "He's already dead."
The words hit like a shockwave.
"Who did it?"
Wesley met her gaze. "Iron Man… or Demon Face."
Vanessa closed her eyes, her body swaying slightly before she steadied herself.
On the deck, murmurs erupted into open arguments as the news spread.
"Why should we go to Los Angeles now? The boss is dead. Let's just go our separate ways."
"Watch your mouth. You'd betray him that easily?"
"He's gone!"
Vanessa stepped forward, Wesley at her side. The moment they appeared, the arguments died down, though tension lingered in every expression.
She walked up to the bearded man who had suggested disbanding.
"You were one of Wilson's most trusted men," she said quietly. "He valued you. Why leave now?"
The man let out a bitter laugh. "If he were alive, I wouldn't go anywhere. But he's not. So tell me—who's going to lead us?"
Vanessa didn't hesitate.
"I will."
The answer stunned everyone.
The bearded man smirked. "You? And why should we follow you?"
She raised her pistol.
Bang.
The shot rang out, and the man collapsed instantly, a bullet hole in his forehead. His body hit the deck with a heavy thud, disbelief still frozen on his face.
Vanessa lowered the gun slowly, her voice calm.
"Anyone else want to leave?"
No one spoke.
Wesley swallowed hard, forcing down his own shock as he stepped forward. "The boss made preparations long before this. Los Angeles is only the beginning. Madam is more than capable of leading us forward."
His voice hardened.
"And if you respect the boss at all… you won't go against his will."
Silence.
Under the night sky, the yacht finally began to move, cutting through the waves. Spray from the sea splashed onto the deck as it picked up speed.
At the bow, Vanessa stood alone, staring out at the endless darkness ahead.
The pistol was still in her hand.
"You said I wouldn't need this anymore," she whispered. "You lied."
She pressed her lips gently against the cold metal, then tossed it into the churning sea.
"One day," she said softly, "I'll come back."
Her words were carried away by the wind.
Behind her, Wesley watched in silence. He had seen her ruthlessness firsthand, yet doubt lingered in his mind.
He had studied Demon Face extensively. He knew how fast that man was evolving.
Could ordinary people… really stand against him?
....
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