A clear day, minor clouds with pleasant striations, a jet-stream intersecting their path emanating from the rear of a private jet, slightly larger than the gold standard and custom-made, to accommodate the hidden weaponry, stealth systems and countermeasures that protected one of the world's smartest and richest men. He had an extra level of security, but that too was hidden in its own way. The only person on the plane was Tony Stark, but another intelligence was also present – in some ways brighter and dumber than his maker.
Steadily sipping from an amber bottle of beer, his relative peace was interrupted as Jarvis delivered an alert of sorts to his master – in this day and age of the Avengers and all manner of other powered beings, Jarvis' initially small parameters for the 'unusual' had been expanded to include virtually everything not entirely mundane. The system was imperfect, and on many occasions required Tony's own revision to confirm or deny any anomalies, but it was assuring that he would be instantly notified of any possibly-dangers phenomenon near him.
Jarvis, in a cool and synthesised male voice, spoke as a translucent holographic display was superimposed over the forward cockpit window, showing a real-colour presentation of Westchester County that the plane currently flew over. A mansion, noted as the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning, stood at the edge of a yellow rippling wave whose epicentre was only a hundred metres across. “Concentrated seismic activity detected, centre three hundred and four metres north-east of the X-Mansion. Underground energy signatures atypical, possibly supernatural.”
Supernatural? Tony rapidly emptied the contents of his bottle down his throat, savouring the sensation and taste before he would have serious things to worry about. A drop of the golden brew landed on his immaculate suit as he rued – not for the first time in his life – how troublesome the supernatural was. Even the complex and sometimes frail nature of super-advanced technology could pale in comparison to the sheer bewildering nature of the supernatural. In the past Tony had considered that his inability to easily grasp it all had been because of his highly-technical brain, but had since put that behind him. A few years ago, his body had started using the ark reactor embedded in his chest as an energy source, and so it came that his brain was essentially powered by a star, making him the smartest 'normal' human on Earth, and with all that power to think with, Tony still could not grasp the supernatural. It was just naturally confusing.
Tony banked the plane into a circling pattern over the disturbance so he could see it with his own eyes – the nanites in his system clarifying and zooming his vision. The shaking ground didn't do the X-Mansion any harm, but at its centre, a rocky outcrop was growing. No, it lacked any proper signs of geological activity, no lava spewing and no wider-spread destruction. “Jarvis, get me the source depth of this thing.” Half a second later, the voice had his reply: “Thirty two point seven metres.”
Not deep at all, anything geological would begin kilometres down. Seeking further clarification, Tony questioned deeper: “Cuts off below that?”
“Affirmative,” said the calm, sure voice immediately after, confirming Tony's suspicion that the structure now emerging was from a portal, having not before been buried underground. That in itself was unlikely, something of such size would have been noticed by students or staff of the Xavier Institute. Over the course of the next few minutes, Tony halved his altitude, but widened his circle to triple its diameter, to circle the column of arcanely sculpted stone with a distance of its own diameter. As the pillar stopped ascending, and Tony gained altitude to survey more of it in detail, three blurs sped past him – dark grey in the middle, two above and to its sides, red and blue – rocketing towards the ground. Another sharp aerial manoeuvre, and Tony was circling the mansion grounds, and watched as the red and blue blurs – now resolved as figures from a different angle – caught up to the central dark one, all three crashing into the ground with a fantastic shockwave the shattered windows and sent a rippling wave through the ground for a hundred metres.
Over the course of a full circle of the grounds, Tony watched with rapt attention as the dust settled, and the red and blue figures stood up, both topped with silver hair and carrying blades. He wondered if they carried more weapons, and thought it likely – magical beings always had a knack for making artefacts appear out of nowhere. Then again, so did Tony. “Jarvis, I'm going to investigate.” With a tone of mild disapproval now registering, Jarvis commented: “Acknowledged, though the wisdom in this course of action is doubte-” A half-second pause in the speech of the artificial intelligence construct was broken with the announcement “The Hulk has just arrived. Request fire support from this vessel?”
Tony thought on the possible help, but realised with the sketchy history between Iron Man and Hulk, it might be wiser to approach him in ways not immediately hostile. Namely, not greeting him carrying guns the size of his own arms. “Not immediately. Jettison them and guide them down to some of the rooftops, then get the plane out of here.” The weaponry on the plane was modular – gattling guns, missile pods, chaff explosives, electromagnetic pulse generators and more – able to be integrated into Tony's armour for added firepower. “Acknowledged, best of luck, Mr. Stark.” came the AI's final words as a custom-fitted hatch opened on the side of the craft, cool outside air flooding the entire cabin as Tony jumped out of the plane in full dress.
Even as he fell, it became quite clear that he had a trick up his sleeve, obvious from more than the fact he had just jumped out of a plane with such surety. As he accelerated by gravity towards the ground, buffeted by a particularly windy day, Tony's course still held true, a point twenty metres distant from the new arrivals. As his well-kept suit lost the sensation and appearance of wool and velvet, he saw where the Hulk had landed, roughly on the other side of the campus. Noting the arrival of a mechanised being possibly similar to himself, Tony didn't even register the steady transformation of his clothes and the outflow of tiny machines embedded in his body as they made their way to the surface. The delicate fabric of an entire tuxedo shifted to crimson and gold armour plating, whistling down to the ground he noticed the arrival of a person he had not seen for years, and whose disposition he was entirely uncertain of.
Even when they were both part of the Illuminati, Iron Man had been sceptical of Stephen Strange. Last time they had parted, the terms of all the Illuminati had been uncertain. What troubled Tony more was that on many occasions, Strange had defeated or banished the Hulk to some degree or another. That Strange did not attempt to do so immediately once more, and that the Hulk made no visible show of any hostility, left a chilling sensation running down Tony's spin. He had seen what Strange could do to enemies, but Tony had always had the benefit of almost being a friend – at the very least, a vague ally. Now, he was far from certain of his safety, and could not think of a more dangerous opponent to face.
-----=+=-----
Arkham writhed wildly and screamed eternal curses upon the souls of Dante and Vergil as they plummeted to the ground, off the side of the Temen-ni-gru's pinnacle. Demonic energies pooled in the feet of the half-hellspawn twin brothers, as they performed one of the most basic techniques to accelerate towards their quarry, who was just out of reach. The air hike expanded from each of their feet in a signatured disk and a helix of wispy red that followed them down for a second, before they each grabbed ahold of Arkham. Dante on the left, Vergil on the right, each with a hand clutching a lapel of his jacket, the digits of the other wrapped tightly around his upper arms.
For all intents and purposes, the Force Edge was lost for another date, and the two halves of the Perfect Amulet remained safely within the ancient halls of the Temen-ni-gru. Dante had been battling Arkham on his own, when the man had been fighting with the majority of the power that Dante's father had possessed – the power of the legendary demon Sparda. When it seemed a finishing blow would be struck upon Dante, Vergil joined the fray, having up to this point been entirely hostile to Dante and a supposed master of Arkham. The tables turned, they fought together to defeat the empowered Arkham, and when his power left him, the Force Edge left that realm entirely, hopefully resting somewhere relatively out of harm's way in the human world. Knowing his luck, Dante doubted it was anywhere safe. Probably falling into the hands of another villain bent upon the ruling or destruction of the world.
Arkham's body absorbed every bit of the impact as the three of them struck the ground, another downward air hike adding to the brutality of the collision. Though Arkham had – even when not empowered – proved himself physically powerful, Dante and Vergil still felt their hands moving through snapped bones, pulverised flesh and pouring blood even as his body faded. The two brothers knelt by each other's side, arms still pushed into the ground, panting heavily as they waited for the dust to settle.
As it did, the thoughts came to both of them of what to do about each other – their ideologies and goals were still vastly different and conflicting – were they still enemies? Each of them dismissed the thought temporarily as they surveyed their environment, quickly realising they were distinctly absent from the human world or demon realm they both knew. Their former hostility mightn't even matter in light of this new revelation. The Force Edge was elsewhere, the Perfect Amulet still bound to Dante though it rested within the Temen-ni-gru, which Vergil could return to their world at his will, so long as the owners of both halves of the amulet were present. They were safe for now, and Dante, more so than he had felt for months, was happy. Victorious, elated, excited.
He still felt the need for a good battle while his blood was pumping, but he longer felt his life or the world depended on it. An excellent foe would be Vergil, the two fought virtually on par, only exceeding and falling short in some aspects where the other excelled. Still, Dante wanted to maintain the tenuous rebirth of their civility, and so would not battle him. Standing up, Dante commented, laughing: “Well, that's one way to survive a fall.”
Vergil, ever the more serious of the two, was quick to act in a fashion opposite to his brother, coldly: “A convenient solution.” Dante reached an arm behind him, and Vergil tensed for a moment as it was the signature action of his brother drawing his massive longsword Rebellion, but Dante didn't draw it full. Instead, he lifted it up a foot, and then slid it back down, and let himself roll back on his heels, till he was sitting with his back up against the flat of the blade. Vergil relaxed as the red-coated brother said, “So, what happens now? We beat the big boss but I'm still raring to go.”
Vergil himself stood up to better observe where they had landed. A crater of compacted dirt and grass five metres wide they both stood in, with the glass windows of the nearest building all shattered. Vergil spoke as he slowly rotated on the spot, calmly looking about. “”We re-ascend the Temen-ni-gru so we don't risk being left here.” Dante let out a laugh, “Relax,” he said, “That big rock's not going anywhere so long as we're not standing in or on it. With no more fighting to do, I wanna take a look around this place, maybe find someone to have fun with.”
As a suit of strange gold and metallic crimson hovered roughly toward them, Virgil nodded towards the new arrival. “Perhaps he would suffice?” As the armoured man touched down, Dante sat up and drew his sword out of the ground, and the approaching figure immediately froze, raising his arms as his faceplate ascended, showing the man's face. “Hey, easy. I don't want to fight, so stop looking to me for one.” Dante let out an audible sigh and an exaggerated slouching of his shoulders. “You're no fun. Any idea where we are and if there's anyone who's up to a good brawl?”
Tony took a tentative step forward, waited for a second if the twins tensed up or reacted with hostility, and continued in their direction when they kept their stance steady and calm. “You'd be on Earth, but probably not the one you're used to. And yeah, speak of the devil, there's someone over there” Tony pointed a thumb over his shoulder to where he last knew the Hulk, Strange and the mechanised stranger to be “who'd
love to have a good fight. Also an old enemy of mine, and on his team is someone who'd probably give us all a challenge, so would have any problem with teaming up?” Vergil was about to speak up and ask about Tony's powers, or better yet for a demonstration of them, when Dante leapt forward, massive blade in hand as though it weighed less than a feather. “Sure you can tag along, just don't hold us back or keep us waiting.”
“It's
showtime!” came the roar of the demonic warrior as all three of them charged into battle.
