#76

"No, even with all his power, Doctor Strange won't last much longer. We can't afford to wait," Jarrett said, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the battlefield.

"Then we take a gamble!" Melinda May gritted her teeth and slammed the accelerator forward.

The Quinjet surged ahead, closing in on the gates of Kamar-Taj at breakneck speed.

As it moved, a lone Wing Mark creature drifted into its path.

It never saw what hit it—an invisible force crushed it into a splatter of blood and bone.

But that single death was like a signal flare.

The swarm went berserk.

A high-pitched screech filled the air as hundreds of Wing Marks turned toward the Quinjet, surging toward it like a living tidal wave.

The first impact sent a violent jolt through the ship.

Some of the creatures were obliterated on contact, but more latched onto the hull, gnawing at it with razor-sharp teeth.

"They're tearing through the stealth system! We've lost invisibility!" Melinda shouted over the chaos. "I can't keep her steady—we're going down!"

"Then let me drive!" Johnny Blaze, now fully transformed into Ghost Rider, shoved Melinda aside and grabbed the controls.

"Wait!" Ethan snapped. "It's broad daylight. Your power—"

"Doesn't matter anymore," Ghost Rider cut in, his skull engulfed in ethereal flames. "The old Rider taught me how to use my power anytime."

"That's great and all, but you do realize this isn't a car—it's a plane!" Ethan exclaimed.

Ghost Rider turned his flaming skull toward Ethan and let out a hoarse, almost amused chuckle. "Relax. I'm a professional."

He gripped the controls, and instantly, hellfire spread across the Quinjet's surface, engulfing it in an infernal glow.

Metal groaned as it twisted and reshaped under the unholy energy.

The ship's damaged hull repaired itself in an instant, and a massive, snarling skull materialized on the nose of the craft.

The Wing Marks that had been devouring the Quinjet instantly shrieked as they were reduced to ashes by the hellfire.

Ethan's eyes widened. "Okay… that's new."

"Meet Helljet," Ghost Rider said before slamming the throttle.

The now-demonic fighter roared forward, blasting through the Wing Mark swarm.

Any creature that got close burned away before it could even touch the ship, and even those that managed to scrape the hull found their wounds cauterized by the flames before they could regenerate.

But the swarm wasn't done yet.

Enraged, the Wing Marks converged in the sky, swirling together like a living storm.

Massive tendrils of writhing, shrieking creatures formed, each as thick as a skyscraper, reaching down toward the ship.

"Oh, that's bad," Ghost Rider muttered.

One of the tendrils lashed downward, and he barely managed to swerve the ship out of its path.

Another slammed into the side, shaking the entire aircraft violently.

"We're losing altitude!" Melinda warned.

Ghost Rider cursed under his breath.

Hellfire flared brighter around the ship, but the sheer number of creatures was overwhelming.

For every hundred that burned, thousands more surged forward, smothering the flames with their sheer numbers.

"We can't hold out like this!" Coulson shouted. "We need backup!"

Ethan's eyes flickered with determination. He turned to Katie, grabbing her wrist. "We go out and help. Now."

Without another word, Katie activated her ability, phasing them through the walls of the Quinjet and onto the battlefield outside.

As Ethan stood atop the transformed Quinjet, a portal suddenly shimmered open beside him.

From within, Jarrett and a squad of magicians stepped out, their arrival a beacon of mystical energy.

Just as Ethan had suspected, they were here to share the burden of defending the demonic aircraft.

The presence of the magicians sent the swarm into a frenzy.

The creatures, drawn to magic like moths to a flame, screeched as they converged on the new arrivals, hungry for the raw energy radiating from them.

Seeing the incoming horde, Ethan reacted instantly.

He clapped his hands together, unleashing a powerful omnidirectional blast of force—an invisible shockwave that sent the creatures hurtling backward.

The momentary reprieve gave the magicians just enough time to prepare their defenses.

"John, over here!" Ethan called out, his gaze locking onto the young pyrokinetic.

John, who had just phased outside the jet with Katie's help, struggled to stay upright in the turbulent air.

He leaned against a magician for balance, looking at Ethan with a mix of confusion and curiosity. "What do you need, boss?"

"You control fire. See if you can manipulate the hellfire covering this ship," Ethan instructed, pointing at the black and red flames coursing along the Quinjet's hull.

He knew the boundaries between magic and mutant abilities were often blurred—if he could defy physics with his vector control, then John could surely bridge the gap between his flames and Ghost Rider's infernal energy.

The hellfire was undeniably powerful, but Ghost Rider had already burned through much of his strength demonizing the jet.

If John could take control of the flames, it would be like adding an extra turret to their airborne fortress—a crucial advantage against the seemingly endless swarm.

More than that, Ethan saw this as an opportunity for John to expand his understanding of both his powers and magic itself.

"Hellfire, huh?" John muttered, rubbing his hands together.

"Looks like fire to me. Fire's fire, right?"

"Heads up! Incoming!" Jarrett shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos.

The magicians raised their hands, conjuring various magical weapons, and unleashed a barrage of energy blasts.

The oncoming creatures screeched as they were struck, their ranks scattering from the concentrated assault.

"Stay sharp!" Jarrett warned. "That was just a small wave. The real threat is still coming."

Even as he spoke, the swarm reassembled itself.

The creatures that Ethan had scattered mere moments ago coiled together, merging into two massive appendages stretching from the darkness above.

Like colossal black tornadoes, they spiraled downward, their tendrils writhing hungrily toward the possessed Quinjet.

Ethan's eyes narrowed. "Try it, John. Now."

But there was no more time to watch. Ethan turned on his heel and strode toward Jarrett. "I need a weapon."

Jarrett raised a brow but didn't hesitate.

He extended his hand, and in a flash of light, a sleek, silver longblade materialized in his grip.

He tossed it to Ethan, who caught it with ease.

As he gripped the hilt, something clicked in Ethan's mind—a fleeting spark of inspiration just out of reach.

He frowned, trying to grasp the thought before it slipped away.

Then, a realization struck him.

"Can this blade be modified? Make it bigger—about as tall as a person, a foot-wide blade, and give it a bone-white finish."

Jarrett blinked. "That's… an unusual request. But yeah, I can do it. Just need to alter the magic structure. What's the idea here?"

"Just do it," Ethan said, his voice firm.

With a wave of his hand, Jarrett reshaped the weapon.

Light flared once more, and the slender sword morphed into a massive, broad-edged weapon, its surface taking on the eerie, pale color of bleached bone.

Ethan's grip tightened around the hilt. Whatever was coming, he was ready.