#72

"Enemy invasion!" 

Sensing the dark aura radiating from the chariot, the gathered sorcerers tensed, their hands instinctively preparing spells.

"Demons and dark sorcerers... This is your doing, isn't it? And now you have the audacity to barge into the New York Sanctum? Unforgivable!" 

The sorcerer who had been knocked into the air stormed forward, his eyes burning with fury.

"It was an accident, and we mean no harm," Ghost Rider said as he pushed open the car door, stepping out to explain.

"Accident? Go back to hell and tell your master that yourself, foul demon!" The sorcerer sneered, summoning two glowing blades in his hands before slashing down at the Ghost Rider.

A dark purple light flickered, and with a single swipe, the enchanted car door was sliced clean in half.

Ghost Rider's hollow eyes gleamed. 

"You think you can send me to hell? Then go ahead and try."

With a flick of his wrist, he unraveled a chain of hellfire, the molten links glowing menacingly. 

If there was one thing you should never say to Thor, it was to put down his hammer. 

And if there was one thing you should never say to Ghost Rider, it was "go to hell." 

That was all the provocation he needed.

"Then let's settle this!" the sorcerer snarled, lunging forward to clash with the fiery entity.

For a moment, the two were locked in combat, sparks flying as hellfire met magic. 

The sorcerer was skilled—holding his ground better than most—but it was clear he was being pushed back by the relentless assault of the Ghost Rider.

"So, the rumors are true," the sorcerer muttered between heavy breaths. 

"You really are a monster."

Staggering back from a brutal strike, the sorcerer clenched his fists. 

"As a Guardian of the New York Sanctum, I, Jarrett Drumm, have never been bested in close combat—until now. But this is as far as you go."

With a sharp gesture, Jarrett signaled his fellow sorcerers. 

In an instant, the air around them shimmered as magical weapons materialized—blades, axes, spears—all pulsating with raw arcane energy.

"Sorcerer Supreme! This evil must be dealt with!"

Before the battle could escalate, a small object whizzed through the air, landing with a metallic clink at Daniel's feet. 

He instinctively caught it, his eyes narrowing as he recognized the insignia.

"I think it's time to stop this nonsense," Ethan said as he and Katie stepped out of the chariot.

Jarrett's expression darkened. "This is a master badge of the Order of the Mystic Arts. Only disciples of the former Sorcerer Supreme are granted these. Where did you get this?"

His gaze swept over Ethan, studying him with suspicion. 

He didn't recognize him—but the energy signature in the badge matched Ethan's aura perfectly. 

That was nearly impossible to fake.

"Because I was the last disciple of the former Sorcerer Supreme, the Ancient One," Ethan explained calmly. 

"She trained me in secret for my own protection. Before she passed, she entrusted this to me so I could meet the new Sorcerer Supreme."

Jarrett's frown deepened. "Is that so? A hidden disciple appearing now, of all times... Forgive me if I find that difficult to believe."

His eyes flicked to Ghost Rider. "And what about the demon you brought with you?"

"He's my friend. He needs an audience with the Sorcerer Supreme," Ethan said firmly.

Jarrett scoffed. "You expect me to escort a demon to Kamar-Taj?"

The very thought seemed absurd to him. 

But if Ethan truly was a disciple of the Ancient One, he had to prove it.

"Alright, junior disciple," Jarrett said with a smirk, raising his twin blades. 

"If you really are who you say you are, then let's put it to the test."

With a swift motion, he slashed toward Ethan.

"Ding!"

Ethan barely moved. 

He simply lifted two fingers and caught the blade between them, stopping the attack effortlessly.

Jarrett's eyes widened. "What—?"

With a small flick of Ethan's fingers, the blade shattered.

He idly twirled the broken tip before flicking it toward the ground. 

The impact sent a shockwave through the concrete, leaving behind a crater nearly a meter deep.

"Do you still want to test?" Ethan asked, his voice devoid of emotion.

Jarrett hesitated, glancing at the massive crater left in the ground. 

A bead of sweat rolled down his temple. 

Someone this young, this powerful, carrying the badge of a senior member of the Order of the Mystic Arts—who else but the former Sorcerer Supreme could have trained him?

Yet, something about this display of power felt... off. 

Shouldn't sorcerers rely on magic weapons, intricate spells, and skillful combat rather than raw destruction?

"So, can you take me to Kamar-Taj now?" Ethan pressed, his gaze unwavering.

"I'm afraid I can't do that," Jarrett said firmly, shaking his head.

"Why not?" Ethan narrowed his eyes, noticing the tension in Jarrett's face. 

"Something happened in the mystical world, didn't it?"

Jarrett exhaled sharply, then decided against keeping it a secret. 

"Have you ever heard of the Book of Cagliostro?"

Ethan frowned, sifting through his memory. 

"Yeah... It's supposed to be an incredibly powerful tome, filled with advanced magic."

"It's been stolen. And not just a few pages—this time, the entire book is gone. Because of this, Kamar-Taj is on full lockdown."

"That serious? It's just a book," Ethan mused.

"No. It's not just a book," Jarrett corrected him. 

"It's the most powerful spellbook in existence. And what's worse—since its disappearance, sorcerers across the world have been vanishing."

Ethan's expression darkened. "So, someone's targeting magic users."

"We first thought it was dark sorcerers taking advantage of the Ancient One's passing. But we soon discovered even dark sorcerers were among the dead."

"You're saying that after the Book of Cagliostro vanished, a group of mysterious sorcerer killers appeared?" Ethan deduced.

Jarrett nodded grimly. "We call them Demon Hunters. Every time they kill a sorcerer, they steal their magic and their soul—leaving no chance for reincarnation."

With a silent command, Jarrett gestured behind him. 

The other sorcerers stepped aside, revealing a shriveled corpse—mummified, its body drained of all life.

Ethan crouched next to it. "How much do you know about them?"

"Almost nothing. We don't know their strength, their numbers, their identities—not even if they're human," Jarrett admitted. 

"They're a complete enigma."

"So that's why you're suspicious of me," Ethan realized.

"You can't prove your innocence, can you?" Jarrett challenged. 

"Even if you were the Ancient One's disciple, even if she trusted you—others have fallen to darkness before. Kaecilius did."

Ethan crossed his arms. "Then let me help you hunt down these Demon Hunters. That should clear my name."

Ghost Rider, who had been silent, finally spoke. 

"There's a lingering dark aura on this corpse. Whoever did this, they're tainted by something sinister."

Ethan motioned toward the flaming skeleton. "My friend here has a... talent for detecting dark energy."

Jarrett weighed his options. It could still be a trap, but they needed a breakthrough. 

Taking a deep breath, he made his decision.

"Alright. I'll trust you—for now."

....

"Everything is normal in Area B." On the rooftop of a nearby building, a sorcerer held a communicator to his ear.

"No abnormalities detected in Area D." The voices of other sorcerers crackled through the static-laden device.

Ethan stared at the communicator in his hand, his expression unreadable. 

"Are you guys seriously relying on this?" he asked, unimpressed. 

The device looked ancient—something that predated even the oldest S.H.I.E.L.D. models by at least a decade.

To make matters worse, there was a discount sticker on the back that read: Buy three, get one free! 

Had they seriously picked this up at a flea market? 

"You don't have access to better gear? This feels... unprofessional."

Jarrett sighed, pulling his binoculars away from the window. 

"It's not like we have a choice. The demon hunters have figured out how to avoid the temple's magic detection, so we're stuck using the same low-tech methods as everyone else—waiting and watching."

Ethan followed Jarrett's gaze. 

Across the street stood an antique shop, its dusty windows revealing shelves lined with strange relics.

 According to Daniel, the owner was an old sorcerer, which explained the reluctance to use magical communication. 

Any nearby mystical fluctuations could tip off both the shopkeeper and the demon hunters.

"There must be plenty of sorcerers living in New York," Ethan reasoned. 

"If you spread your forces thin like this, even if you do run into a demon hunter, will you have enough time to stop them?"

Jarrett leaned against the window frame, arms crossed. 

"The New York Sanctum isn't just for detection. To prevent interdimensional threats, the temple's protective wards include powerful spatial restrictions. If we activate them, no one can open a portal in or out of the city."

Ethan raised an eyebrow. 

"If the Sanctum's so well-protected, why not just gather all the sorcerers in one place, set a few as bait, and concentrate your forces? Wouldn't that make it easier to fight back?"

Jarrett shook his head. "Tried that. Doesn't work. First, even if we protect all the so-called white sorcerers, the demon hunters can still go after the ones who won't trust us

—the rogue sorcerers. And let's be honest, we're not exactly shedding tears when those guys go missing."

The thought of dangerous sorcerers being taken out wasn't exactly a loss, but Daniel wasn't naive.

 If something was powerful enough to hunt them down so easily, it was only a matter of time before the situation got worse.

"More importantly," he continued, 

"sorcerers exist outside of New York. Even if we close off this city, the demon hunters only need to step outside the wards, open a portal, and continue their hunt elsewhere."

Ethan frowned slightly. "Yeah, that's... not great. Sounds like you need backup."

Jarrett's eyes lit up. "You mean recruiting more sorcerers? That could—"

"Not exactly. I don't know many sorcerers, but I do know some people who deal with threats like this for a living." Ethan smirked. 

"Ever heard of S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

Jarrett's excitement instantly faded. 

He let out an unimpressed scoff. "You mean ordinary people? You want to bring in a bunch of agents with guns? 

When it comes to magic, normal people lack the skill, the vision, and the willpower to handle it."

"You seem to have misunderstood me," Ethan said, already dialing his phone. "Hello, Coulson? Are you at headquarters right now?"

"I just got back," Coulson's voice came through the line. "But I've got some work on my plate. What's up?"

"Drop what you're doing. Fury has authorized a Level 10 security mission, code-named 'Prometheus Fire.' I need you to pull up every surveillance feed and track all suspicious individuals wearing strange clothing. Get the footage sent over immediately." As he spoke, he glanced at Katie, who was already pulling up her data panel.

"Katie will handle the data connection on our end. Just send everything directly to her."

Coulson's tone shifted, becoming more serious. "Understood. I'll get on it now."

A Level 10 classified operation was no joke—it was the same clearance level as matters involving Asgard and the underworld. 

If Coulson wasn't directly involved in the mission, he wouldn't even have the clearance to know about it. 

The fact that Fury had greenlit it at this level meant this was serious.

"All set," Katie said after just a few minutes. 

The data panel in her hands flooded with a massive influx of live surveillance footage. 

Fortunately, it had been specially modified by the Academy to handle high-volume data without crashing.

"Let's take a look," Ethan said, waving his hand over the panel. 

Instantly, a series of holographic projection screens materialized before them, displaying various feeds in real time.

Jarrett's eyes widened in astonishment. "I didn't expect... technology could do this." 

He had always seen magic as the ultimate power, superior to any mundane invention. 

While sorcerers didn't completely shun technology, they often considered it a crude substitute—something mere mortals used to compensate for their lack of mystical ability.

In his experience, magic could replicate anything technology achieved, and then some. 

Need fast travel? 

There were portals. 

Need entertainment? Magical light curtains could project visions far more immersive than any screen. 

Energy-based weaponry? That was just leftover spellcraft.

For years, this mindset had shaped Daniel's view of the world. 

Even when the Ancient One had insisted on installing Wi-Fi at Kamar-Taj, he had barely tolerated it. 

Now, watching the entire city of New York being monitored in real-time, he felt something shift.

Ethan noticed the surprise on Jarrett's face and smirked. 

"The modern world is far more advanced than you realize. You've just never given it a proper chance."

Jarrett was silent for a moment before nodding. 

"Perhaps." 

For the first time, he considered that technology might have value, even to a sorcerer.

"Got something!" Katie suddenly exclaimed. 

She zoomed in on one of the surveillance feeds, isolating a dark alley. 

On the screen, several figures in black robes stood menacingly, their hands raised as magical weapons materialized out of thin air. 

Their victim was backed against a wall, nowhere to run.

Daniel's grip tightened on his communicator. "The temple is activating a large-scale Mirror Dimension—we're not letting them escape this time!"

Before he could issue another order, a loud roar filled the air. 

Johnny Blaze had already transformed into Ghost Rider, his skeletal frame wreathed in flames as he leaped from the window. 

He landed on a nearby car, his hellfire consuming it as the vehicle twisted into a demonic chariot.

He revved the engine, the sound echoing like a beast's growl. "Let's ride. I'm not waiting around!"

The hunt was on.

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Word count: 2285

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