Chapter 89: Destroy

Nahhh— I think I'd know if Agamotto was related to me. I was just reading about him." Bronte replied quickly.

"I wouldn't stake comprehension of important reading materials on a highschool drop out." Doctor Strange said, still levitating in the middle of his room in a meditating position.

"Alright…. That's actually fair." Bronte couldn't argue that, even if he could smell how drunk the man was.

He exhaled loudly in the silence, pushing the smells of old alcohol and body odor out of his nostrils.

"Wait— how do you know that?"

"As I said Agamotto was the first Sorcerer Supreme." Doctor Strange didn't answer the question, "He was incredibly powerful in an age that was incredibly primal. He grew alongside early man. Do you know who birthed him?"

"….A Wind Rider?"

Doctor Strange shook his head, "No. Oshtur herself. Born from a single tear fallen from her overjoyed face as she watched a blind child laugh for the first time."

Wholesomeness aside that meant…

"So, Agamotto is a very distant relative of yours. You both share a nexus point of origin with the Grey Goddess. In a magical sense. But that's as far as it goes….. even still…. You would make an incredibly powerful Sorcerer."

"I don't do too good with the scholarly activities, doc….. and we kind of have a nation-wide issue that's a little more important right now." Bronte's patience suddenly grew thin after being mentally prodded, questioned and then…. Scouted?

"Think bigger, Bronte."

Brontë saw Daken in his mind, berating him on Krakoa as he lay in shock, feeling for control of an arm that lay separated from him a dozen feet away. He said the same thing. He said none of them were truly considering the world after Romulus. He said think bigger.

"What good is a nation if the whole planet goes?" Doctor Strange questioned. "You said it yourself. She said it as well….. Oshtur. She said it. We are quite low on heroes. Villains? The jobs too easy— the world's too corrosive. They grow. They inch closer beyond our stars…. Full of hate. Powered by rage. You saw the hands of titans attempting to rip into her dimension. That is mere foreshadowing your Gray Goddess won't tell you."

"Foreshadowing to wh—"

Brontë trailed off, not listening to the half drunken unwashed Sorcerer's ramblings any longer as his nostrils flared like a dog on the hunt.

It was faint. So faint it had to be many many miles away. Even still the hairs on his arms stood on end.

Maybe because the city was supposed to be sapped of activity. Silent. Recovering.

I mean if it was, why would he smell gunpowder, blood and burnt skin?

"Do you see-"

"Quiet." Bronte said flatly.

"B—"

He heard the trigger squeeze from afar followed by the blasting echo of a sniper bullet. Brontë dove after Doctor Strange in a blur of movement.

They hit the ground hard as the circular globe-like window gilded by dark metals shattered.

Immediately, a stun grenade fell into the window— meaning there were people closer than the sniper that he didn't sense. Not good.

The stun grenade rolled across the floor.

Bronte's Symbiote arm slithered across the room as sparks and bolts of magic spread in the darkness. With the grenade unaffected, he grabbed it and threw it back outside.

It exploded high above the neighborhood streets, shaking Bronte's skull as Strange low crawled across the floor to grab the bullet.

Pure silver and covered in glowing runes, it shined like a firefly in the darkness.

"It's been quite some time." Doctor Strange mumbled as Bronte got to his feet and carried Doctor Strange out of the room.

Sniper bullets continued to rip through the room in their wake, always right around where Bronte's head was. Too close to be accidental misses.

"Who the hell misses on purpose?"

Brontë ran down the stairs with Doctor Strange slung over his shoulder, still studying the bullet.

"Are these guys here for you?"

"Oh but of course— I'm quite disliked in many circles. It comes with the job description."

"Any information would be appreciated….. like now!" Bronte said as they raced to the library. He could hear footsteps around the building— poking and prodding for an entrance point. The movement of fabrics as they spoke through hand signs like a well trained stealth unit.

They had training.

Hired arms most likely.

"Well… it seems Silver Dagger wants to have another go at what lies inside the Sactum Sanctorum. It's been years, I wonder what's got him so riled up." Doctor Strange replied.

"Is he another Sorcerer?" Bronte asked as they traveled down another flight of stairs under sniper bullet fire. It ripped through the walls and sent splinters of expensive wood flying everywhere.

"He is. But he's not all that good….. just very radical. All bark very little bite." Doctor Strange commented.

"Yea, well he's hired people to make up for that. Your mansion is getting turned to Swiss cheese." Bronte replied as they hit the desired floor and he sprinted down a long hallway leading to the library where Ilyana was waiting for them with her sword drawn.

"That would be an intelligent evolution on his part." Doctor Strange commented before burping abruptly.

"You two ok?" Ilyana asked.

"We're fine. He's missing on purpose." Bronte set down Doctor Strange. The man wobbled like a newborn giraffe before slinging an arm over Wong's shoulders.

Brontë remembered Ilyana's reminder of not touching anything inside the magical museum. Probably wasn't the best place to fight a black ops strike team.

He headed for the foot soldiers outside, eager to get it over with and continue his search. Ilyana caught his arm.

"Where are you going?" Concern knitted her eyebrows together and widened her brown eyes.

"Outside. I'll be able to let loose."

Ilyana shook her head. "They're not here for us. They're making a move on an object in here. Everything in here is precious. We need to play defense. All it takes is them successfully stealing the right artifact and we have another Red Nation Incident."

"You think I'm not fast enough? I used to do this… like as a job. You don't think we got this?"

"No. I think we don't know exactly what's out there…"

"They did have magic sniper bullets." Doctor Strange replied. "I'm sure Silver Dagger has supplied them with whatever arcane enhancements he has… which can't be mu—"

Windows all around the Sanctum Sanctorum shattered as coordinated explosions wracked the building to its core.

Somewhere in the distance a vase shattered and screaming winds spun through the area in the wake of the explosion.

"There goes the wraiths.." Doctor Strange mumbled.

"Dammit! Ready yourselves. Contain your combat. Don't break anything. We'll cover you." Wong said before crouching down behind a bookshelf with Doctor Strange. From where they hid, circles and orange sparks popped like embers over an old campfire.

"Come on. We'll meet them at the door." Ilyana said as they closed the great twin doors in a hurry.

Along the way, Bronte dumped the books atop the table on the floor and used it to further barricade the door.

It was silent again.

For everyone with Human senses.

Brontë could hear their breathing.

He could visualize each members entire kit based on the way their boots hit the wood floors. The way their weapon stocks brushed against poorly maintained Kevlar vests and body armor.

Most importantly, they had explosives.

One of the men pressed themselves against the door he and Ilyana waited against.

Without a second to waste, Bronte slammed his elbow into the door, popping his elbow claw as it hit the wood.

The assailant on the other side screamed as the metal bone skewered him.

"FIRE!" Someone yelled in the distance.

Brontë cursed internally and threw himself in front of the door.

Instead of taking a thousand rounds to the body, a portal opened in front of the door.

The bullets whizzed through the portal, never reaching the magically dense interior of the library.

On the other side of the door, Bronte could hear the assailants grunt and yell in pain as they were gunned down by their own firepower caught in an endless mutant feedback loop.

Brontë backed away from the door and took cover beside the frame once more. "That's cold…"

Ilyana said nothing.

Eventually they caught on.

"STOP SHOOTING, DAMMIT! Silver Dagger told us bullets would stop working eventually. We go close quarters now."

In unison over a dozen daggers, pistols and other bladed weapons were unsheathed.

Ilyana looked over to Bronte. They'd only had one mission together so far but they did it well. He had no problem repeating strategy.

"Above or behind?" Ilyana questioned.

Brontë pointed upwards.

The bright blue portal against the door fizzled and steamed as it changed exit locations.

The two jumped through.

In the blink of an eye they went from walking forwards to falling from the cieling into the main hall.

Brontë and Ilyana hit the ground surrounded by a dozen mercenaries.

Before they could react, he lashed out with Mend, the Symbiote arm transformed into a black bladed whip in a symphony of electrical explosions and fiery pops.

Ilyana ducked low as Mercenaries were sliced open and blown back into the walls of the main hall like rag dolls.

The recoil from Bronte's own attack busted his nose and cut open his face and neck.

"oooOOOHOHOhoho— this place is stuffy!" Mend snarled in Bronte's mind.

Before he could begin to heal, an invisible trio of forces descended on him with eyes like discs of dark distorted air. They knocked him across the room, crashing into his own attackers.

His brain shook as they screamed at him, slashing at his face and chest.

From somewhere back inside the library, a fiery orange rope bound and dragged them off him. They screamed like Banshee's the whole way.

"You're using too much magic, Bronte. You'll blow up this whole building if you keep fighting like that." Wong yelled to him.

"Heard you." Bronte popped his elbow claw and jammed it into the chest of the assailants he laid on top of.

Another was on him with his pistol aimed at the ready.

Brontë rolled out of the way just as six shots rang out, trailing him loosely.

The second Bronte's feet hit the ground he lunged, tackling the man through a portal that conveniently appeared right behind him.

Suddenly they were falling from the ceiling with Bronte using all his weight to crush him as they hit the ground.

He got up just in time to see Ilyana being surrounded.

Mercenaries were spilling in from everywhere. What a terrible time to have windows all along the walls and a massive doorway.

Ilyana locked eyes with him as he charged and teleported out of the way.

They never heard Bronte coming.

"ERAAAGH!" He punched the closest merc in the head so hard his helmet shattered like glass.

Another behind him raised his pistol. Brontë sidestepped and let the man unload a clip into another that was flanking Bronte, then he gutted the man through his Kevlar and threw him into three others.

Someone jumped on his back.

At the same time a considerably larger mercenary with skin as white as paper hammered a giant fist into his face.

The hit was so hard the assailant on his back got blown back, rolling across the floor completely unconscious.

Brontë slid on the bloody polished wood floor. His broken nose healed before he went back on the offensive while bullets tore through his clothing.

He slashed at the giant's white skinned face, opening up three lines of red and gouging out his eye.

The man shrieked in horror at his perceived invincibility failing him. Before he could fully take in the shock, Bronte followed his own momentum and twisted, sending a spinning back kick to his massive head.

The giant went right out the window he came in from.

"Tombstone is down! I repeat, Tombstone is down!"

With no one left alive in the main hall Bronte rushed back into the library where he could hear violence.

He came in just in time to see Ilyana run a man through with her sword. The explosion from her use of magic lit the man up like a Christmas tree.

Another engaged her from behind with his dagger at the r—

He fell through a portal at his feet, screaming as he was suddenly falling from the ceiling. Ilyana lined it up well enough that all she had to do was spin around and bring up her knee.

Brontë could've heard the jaw break from a mile away.

He hopped over a bookshelf just in time to kick aside another firing at her. The bullet bounced off a ceremonial axe and hit a bookshelf.

"AARRRRGHHH!" All of a sudden a dragon arm growing from the torn spine was swatting at and ripping apart nearby mercenaries. Before anymore bookshelves in the labyrinth-like library could tip over, glowing orange and red constructs appeared over them as a line of defense. The reptilian monsters arm couldn't penetrate.

"STOP SHOOTING!"

"Yes! Please stop before you idiots destroy New York." Doctor Strange calmly yelled.

"Don't stop shooting! That's boring. It was looking like a real party in there…. The party obviously ended pretty quickly in here, though." Someone said from the main hall behind Bronte. His voice was crackly like he had a lifetime of smoking under his belt.

"Bullseye, get back to your post! We're retreating."

Ilyana, Wong and Doctor Strange cursed as they overheard the name.

"Who's we?" Bullseye questioned.

Brontë made his way back to the door, hiding beside the frame to get an eye on Bullseye.

"You heard who's in here. If we knew StormWolf would be here our payout would be triple what it is. Fall back."

"You scared, Crossbones? Hehe…. A scared leader makes a dead team, you know?"

Bullets rang out from the main hall, ripping into the mercenaries silently stalking the walkways of the library with their knives drawn.

Somehow none of the books were hit, and every bullet perfectly ricocheted off the same axe as before. Right angle and all.

Eight mercenaries hit the ground in seven shots.

Brontë inched closer to the doorframe to get a peek only for a steel baton to bounce off the door frame beside him and hit him in the eye.

"No peeking!" Bullseye cleared his throat, "We're not leaving, Bones. I'm in heaven! This guy's endless target practice…"

"Aye who told you that?" Bronte yelled into the main hall as he stood with his back to the wall. His voice was annoying.

"Me." Bullseye shot into the wall, hitting Bronte in the shoulder, "I'm my greatest teacher, kid."

He could hear Sabertooth in his voice. That same old fashioned sadistic glee.

"Now come on out. There's no need to waste time, I don't miss."

"My bad, Wong." Bronte yelled into the library.

"For wha—"

A blur flew past the doorway.

Bullseye fired a symphony of gunshots into it with primal glee written all across his masked face.

The bullets tore through the already torn shirt and hit the bookshelves in the back. Some were defended by magic. Others were not.

Entire shelves of books exploded into piles of serpents. A glass plate shattered and turned into red sand that ignited like fire and a dozen other acid-trip like reactions spread.

As chaos broke out, Bronte ran through the walls, doing his best cosplay of Juggernaut.

Even if he didn't have the gift of the elements to boost his speed, he was still superhumanely fast. Not like Laura and Daken, but fast enough to run with cars on the highway.

Bullseye didn't have enough time to reload or react as Bronte burst through the wall beside him and threw him up through the ceiling.

Bullseye giggled as he broke through and ended up in Doctor Strange's room full of alcohol and dirty laundry.

He rolled to his feet just in time for Bronte to tackle to him out of the already broken window.

Bullseye stabbed and shot at him before punching him in the mouth.

Brontë didn't have the time to notice he had a stun grenade in his hand.

All he saw was a flash.

When his senses regained composure, he noticed Bullseye struggling to get back to his feet. He moved his mouth in the way you usually do when your ears are ringing.

Which obviously happens when you take a stun grenade to the face.

Why you would have someone so insane on your payroll, Bronte would never know. Silver Dagger must've been desperate.

"You know it's funny…." Bullseye started, "The whole reason we're here is because of you Muty bastards. He…. HAHA! He actually probably saw you, boy. On the news…. Looking like you were seconds from walking on water. I'm no religious man like the devil of Hell's Kitchen but…. I get it."

Bronte caught him by the throat and lifted him off the ground, "That's because you're insane. And don't call me, boy."

Bullseye smiled, "Or wh—"

He went rigid as an electrical shock rippled through his body and rendered him limp.

The only reason Bronte stopped is because….

Brontë dropped Bullseye, looking at his real hand, still covered in dancing blue sparks.

"Mend, you good?"

"Yes! I didn't want to ruin the moment…. You did it Bronte…. HAHA!!! WE are due for a celebration! That's two uses of your ancestral magics in a single day! LETS GO FOR THREE!"

"How about no more fighting for two weeks… I'm tired as hell."

With his Symbiote arm, Bronte picked up Bullseye and headed back into the Sanctum Sanctorum.

Aside from the dead mercenaries in the main hall, busted walls, bullet riddled books and illegal guns laying everywhere, the place looked the same as usual.

"Don't worry. I can clean all this up in seconds." Doctor Strange mumbled as he and Wong crawled out from their hiding spots behind the books shelves.

Ilyana walked beside them, her sword disappeared in a burst of blue flame.

"We can send him to the police." Ilyana referred to Bullseye before a portal appeared beside him.

Brontë tossed him through it without much thought.

"The others?"

"The ones that aren't dead? Crossbones must've taken them out during the end of it all." Ilyana said.

"Silver Dagger gave them cloaking magic so I wouldn't be surprised if they just walked out of here."

"That's why I couldn't sense them when we got here…."

"That goes for all of us." Wong said angrily.

"But they didn't take anything. They actually lost many things. Thanks to you two." Doctor Strange said. "I owe you guys."

Silence spread as Ilyana and Brontë looked from eachother to the Sorcerer Supreme in all his endless knowledge and resources.

"Oh you're taking that seriously—"

"No doubt." Bronte said quickly.

"Vampires right?"

"Yea."