"You guys are paying for these seats." MoonKnight groaned from the cockpit of his MoonJet.
The rest of the Midnight Suns filled up the seats behind in their damaged suits and strong smells of water, blood and fire.
"I'm broke." Robbie replied with his feet up on the head of the seat in front of him. A glass of champagne shook in his grip from the storms raging outside.
"He's not." Blade pointed Bronte. "Hell, he might be in the millionaire club with you Moon man."
"Stop pocket watching." Bronte scarfed down his bottle of champagne like it was water found in the middle of a desert.
"Seriously, we see your billboards all over Times Square. Are you going all in on the music after this vampire mess comes to an end? What's the goal, slim?" Blade questioned.
"I don't think I even need to entertain thoughts about the future like that right now. I'm doing fine with what I got going on now, anyway."
Everyone looked at him blankly.
"It's part of the job description for none of us to be doing fine. We're part of a world ending prophecy."
"I run hell." Ilyana added.
"I'm possessed by a spirit of vengeance."
"I'm mentally ill."
"And our pilot… so please chill." Bronte told MoonKnight.
"Oh sure, I'll just tell my other personalities to keep quiet." MoonKnight threw him a gloved thumbs up.
Jack laughed— seemingly for the first time.
Bronte rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat. "Speaking of your mental, has Khonshu said anything about….. you know?"
"Wolf Moon? No. We don't talk much." MoonKnight replied, "But if he's strong enough to take down all those Vampires and drag three four hundred pound werewolves out of a mountain tunnel system I'd assume he and Khonshu talk quite a bit... I am incredibly jealous."
"Really?" Bronte asked.
"Hell no. The less I talk to people like Khonshu…. Or Cthon… or Oshtur— the better. I have enough figures buying up real estate in my brain."
"Heard you…. Heard you." Bronte understood.
"But he's an asset." Blade replied, "We left him in Transylvania but we might have to come back for him."
"I didn't expect you to say that…" Robbie replied.
"I didn't expect a failure to be chosen by a moon god." Blade shot back while holding a cigar in his mouth, "He's not a failure anymore, though. He's a Helsing powered by a god. We could use that. Especially if Varkis is turning sharks and mountain lions into Vampires."
"Good thing we have The Darkhold." Ilyana replied.
"You sure it's safe in the Limbo Dimension?" Bronte questioned, "I mean…. Demons….. near the most evil spellbook of all time? I kind of feel like we tweaked."
Ilyana shook her head, "I have the SoulSword. I am in control. And even if they're a little off kilter lately….. I've surrounded it by protection spells in a place the demons don't roam. It's better there than in this dimension. Especially if it's covered in possession traps."
"That's what got Silver Dagger…." Bronte thought aloud.
Ilyana nodded, "He knew he was being played. But he was willing to play along, as long as he got the Darkhold. With it…. I'm assuming he wanted to rewrite the Montesi Formula for Mutants. But as soon as he got to work, the trap was triggered and a portion of Cthon's essence took him over. He was old… weak willed and insane. But he was a sorcerer all the same. A better host than most. That could've been very bad. We're lucky to have you, Bronte."
"It goes both ways for sure." Bronte nodded in appreciation, "None of that— none of this happens without y'all... so thank you."
"What did happen? I thought your mind needed to change….. Hombre, you seem the same. No offense." Robbie questioned.
The plane shook as a bolt of lightning lit up the fading night skies outside.
Bronte laid his hand on the glass, "I am the same. I'm me. Everything's the same— I'm just looking at it differently…? Maybe more clearly. Yea that's it."
The storm clouds outside split and rising morning sunlight spilled out over the seas and European forest valleys below.
Everyone was still silent, as if they wanted him to talk more.
Brontë cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, "I mean…. I'm not going over all my issues. This ain't a AA meeting. But uhh….. I don't know, that fight gave me some self awareness. I had a big fight on an island. I lost family. I lost myself. I was the reason the same happened to a lot of other people. It made me think about my life on the road. I killed a lot of people. A lot of it justified…. There's more people like Silver Dagger on this planet than there should be. But then there's people….. like me. With family and friends and love…."
Bronte took a moment before continuing to view the world beyond under the rising sun and clearing skies.
"I got lost in the guilt and moral implications. Then I got pressed by a dark god….. that's when I knew I was bugging. Feeding on the negative…. Feeding on my feelings. Not my reality. Im not a sadist… or a senseless murderer. I'm a product of my environment. People— innocent people, have died because my environment demanded I kill first… swing big, ask what's up later. But I've also acted outside of that. I have to be more than what people like Romulus wanted out of me. I have to be….. ah damn, what's that word?"
Brontë looked to Ilyana, "Like reasonable almost…."
"Nuanced." Ilyana answered as if her warm brown eyes could see through his metal skull and straight into his brain.
"Mmm. Yea. I gotta be more nuanced when I look at myself. I didn't want to kill those people in the ocean. Those families. I didn't want to do a lot of things. But it happened. Because I'm not perfect. I'm young. People want me dead. I just have to be more."
"Acceptance for growth." Jack said aloud and nodded. "The Werewolves teach something similar to newly changed members."
"Word?"
Jack nodded, his five o'clock shadow looked well past twelve under the jet lights, "A lot of us have massacres we regret— mostly in small towns and such, it helps us not spiral. Id say you're on the right track. But then again I'm just getting the hang of all this…."
"Right." Bronte looked out of the window again. His thoughts going elsewhere.
Beyond the clouds the jet ripped through and the waters that shimmered underneath. He held the remaining pieces of his busted earpiece, thinking about what Tigra told him.
"I'll see you so—"
Ilyana's phone rang.
He passively listened as she answered, only focusing more when her tone became more serious….. as impossible as that seemed.
"Sure, he's right here." Ilyana got up from her seat and sat down next to Bronte with her phone out for him. "It's for you."
Bronte took the phone from her, "Yo…"
"I was relieved to hear Ms Rasputin's voice— as was Piotr, but I'm even more relieved to hear yours. I take it you have The Darkhold, Bronte."
"Wanda." Bronte recognized her uniquely smooth voice and accent.
"Where are you now?"
Bronte looked at MoonKnight. MoonKnight shrugged and drank another glass of champagne through his mask.
"….. Europe."
"Hurry home. We have much to discuss." Wanda said casually.
"Wait what— home? Who's we?" Bronte was so close to going to sleep only a minute ago.
He could hear Wanda pull the phone from her ear. He listened to the movement in the background in pure bewilderment.
"This is your only training equipment? Surely you've gotten slower…. A travesty. As one of us he could be the fastest man alive. Behind me, of course." Pietro— Wanda's brother, commented as he walked around Bronte's apartment.
"Speed isn't everything. Some people need to take time away from certain aspects of themselves to properly heal." Ororo replied, "I'm glad he still has his music."
"I don't think he'll ever give that up." W'Kabi added.
Bronte's chest tightened at the sound of their voices. If he spoke too soon, the lump forming in his throat would force a voice crack. Something he hadn't dealt with since highschool.
He could hear Wanda bring the phone back to her ear.
"So is everyone in my spot?"
"Almost. Many people wish to speak to you, important events are underway and you're involved in…. All of them. So like I said…"
"Yea. Hurry home. I'll see you in a bit."
Bronte hung up the phone and handed it back to Ilyana.
"What now?"
"Sleep. Whatever they need me for can wait a bit. We just fought a dark god possessed evil Sorceror and saved Mutants everywhere. We're one step closer to removing Vampirism from the planet. So basically we're at halftime…."
"We need a proper vacation." Robbie added.
"Vacations make you soft." Blade said.
"You would say that."
"Damn straight."
"You ever been to the Bahamas?" Robbie jokingly asked.
Blade removed his glasses and looked over to Robbie, "Damn straight."
Everyone laughed as morning came. Brontë drifted to sleep thinking about what came next. They upped the score.
Surely Daken wouldn't be happy. But he'd be planning all the same….