"When I suggested saving the world, I was expecting something... more heroic than this."
Ghost Rider gloomily watched the rapidly changing landscapes below. Links of his chain were looped through his belt in place of a proper strap, and the long end of it was held by Thunderheart. In her other hand, she spun her hammer. That was how they traveled—like a helicopter carrying cargo.
[This is so humiliating... I need a jetpack, fast.]
"Quit sulking!" the goddess proclaimed.
"Easy for you to say when you're flying the damn helicopter and I'm just the dangling fuel tank!"
"I'm not enjoying this either!" she snapped. "Keep up your spellwork!"
Hidden in the clouds, they hovered over yet another Roxxon facility—the forty-seventh in the last half hour.
John focused on the fire in his bones and sent out his sinful tendrils to scout ahead.
"A dozen thieves and two murderers inside," he announced with absolute certainty.
"Not the one," she sighed and pulled them toward the next office.
"We were at the Roxxon branch in New York, where all the corrupt rats gather—that wasn't it. We hit the Roxxon lab in Nevada, where they experiment on animals—still not it. Maybe now you'll finally tell me what we're looking for?"
"True evil!" Even in flight, her expression remained resolute.
John ground his teeth—or rather, his bones. He was already regretting telling her about his sinner-tracking ability.
"Roxxon is the wealthiest corporation in the world. They own over five hundred properties worldwide," John recited from memory, recalling a Wikipedia entry. "Are you planning to search all of them?"
"If it helps me find their director, then yes!"
"The director?" Ghost Rider latched onto that. "I see you don't waste time on small fry. Cutting off the rotten head right away—I like it."
"I'm not a killer!" she shot back. "He needs to be stopped! The director is true evil."
"No doubt," he chuckled. "I just don't get why you dismissed the New York branch. That place was full of corrupt officials and murder contractors. Sins fitting for a rich bastard."
"You don't understand," she shook her head. "Dario Agger is not human."
"Then what is he?"
"A minotaur."
[Oh. Now that's interesting.]
"I fought him a month ago," the goddess continued. "He has inhuman strength and regeneration."
"He beat you?"
"He ran," she admitted bitterly. "Since then, he's been hiding from me. I need your help to find him."
[If she's already gone up against Roxxon and even fought their director... who turned out to be a literal monster... then that explains why she was so quick to believe the company unfairly smeared my name.]
"During our battle, the minotaur bragged about his plans," her lips twitched. "Agger said he would become the richest man by any means necessary—even if it led to World War III. We can't let that happen!"
"Agreed," John said honestly, since he still planned on living here. "Did you contact the Avengers?"
"I'm better off staying away from them," she muttered.
"Really? And how were you planning to hand me over to them? You know, the so-called supervillain?"
"I would've left you on their doorstep with a note," she admitted awkwardly, quickly changing the subject. "Have you ever met a minotaur before?"
"No," he shook his skull. "I doubt he has anything to do with Greek mythology. Probably just another mutant. Maybe a Hulk relative—strength and regeneration are right up his alley."
"The minotaur is definitely connected to magic. I felt an aura of evil from him," she nodded. "No hired killer has that. You'll know it the moment we're close. I'm sure of it!"
[I'm not... but I don't have much choice.]
The little helicopter continued its journey.
They flew past another hundred and sixty-three Roxxon buildings before stopping in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Nothing but water below.
"There's a secret underwater facility here for extracting and processing natural resources," Thunderheart explained. "I read about it in Roxxon's terminal after my battle with the minotaur."
John nodded and sent out his sinful tendrils. With nothing but water around, it was actually easier—no distractions from the countless sinners that filled the megacities. He pushed deeper, ignoring the ocean's pressure as his tendrils slipped through the facility's reinforced walls. Bingo.
Corporate thieves, guards with a history of murder, a few small-time crooks. The usual. In any group of a hundred people, there's always some rot. The tendrils moved further, into the executive offices…
John's skull jerked as if someone had shoved an electric eel into his eye sockets.
"Now I get what you meant," he said, gripping the mental thread leading to the sinner. "This Dario Agger… how old is he? Around thirty?"
"Twenty-eight," she corrected. "He's the youngest billionaire in the world."
"And yet he's carrying sins on his back like Hitler. What, did he start committing mass genocide in the crib?"
"I don't know. It's possible," she muttered, pressing her lips into a thin line. "According to Wikipedia, Dario was born into a poor fishing family on one of the Greek islands. He started getting lucky at nine years old."
"Had to be magic," John scoffed.
[I don't believe in financial prodigies. Behind every sudden fortune, there's a dirty story.]
"Enough talking!" the goddess declared grandly. "It's improper to wag our tongues while evil runs rampant! To battle!"
"Huh?" was all he managed to say.
Thunderheart suddenly dove straight down. An explosion sent waves rippling outward as they torpedoed into the ocean's depths.
John thought about complaining that he hadn't brought a wetsuit—but then shrugged it off. He folded his arms behind his head, enjoying the marine cruise. The magical fire on his bones didn't extinguish, illuminating the sea creatures around them.
[Now I can brag that I went diving.]
The deeper they went, the more corpses they saw. Fish, covered in green splotches, stared with dead eyes. Normally, scavengers would devour carrion quickly, but no predators dared come near this place, repelled by the eerie green glow of the underwater base. Poison. Death.
[I'm no expert, but I read the news. Looks like they're using some insanely dangerous gamma-radiation-based technology for resource extraction. The UN banned it worldwide to protect the planet. Clearly, Roxxon's director doesn't give a damn about laws.]
Thunderheart reached the ocean floor, calmly walked up to a massive door, grabbed the titanium wheel, and—ignoring the water resistance—spun it.
[Strong girl.]
Just as effortlessly, she sealed the door behind them to avoid flooding the base.
They stepped into a water-filled corridor where an operator was supposed to pump out the incoming water and stabilize the pressure—but no one moved to do so. The goddess approached the next door. This time, the mechanical lock had been set to block entry—it only took her a second longer to force it open.
Dozens of liters of water rushed into the gray corridors. Red warning lights flared, and the sirens howled.
"Oops," Ghost Rider swung his chain, smashing the annoying alarm. "So much for a stealth mission. We've been spotted."
"I'd be surprised if we hadn't been spotted after that entrance," she wrung the water from her hair. "Lead me to the minotaur!"
"No problem," Ghost Rider ran through the puddles, firmly holding onto the thread of sin. "I don't want to stick around here any longer than necessary either."
"It's not about us," she ran alongside him at a speed no Olympic athlete could match. "I've already fought Dario. I know his tactics. He'll throw cannon fodder at us."
"Which we'll tear through with ease," Ghost Rider replied mid-stride, not even worried about losing his breath. "Not even the Hulk could stop two Avatars of Infinity."
"We're not killing anyone," she stated firmly. "I understand that you need to punish, but our enemies are just regular people doing their jobs."
"As you say."
[Of course, I don't agree, but arguing about morality in the middle of the ocean isn't in my best interest.]
They rushed through the corridors, and nothing could stop them. Locked doors were smashed open in advance by the tempered chain. Guards who tried to intervene collapsed unconscious from precisely aimed lightning strikes.
"Son of a—!" one guard shouted, watching helplessly as his bullets bounced off their magic-enhanced bodies. "This is way above my pay grade! Call the Aven—"
A bolt of lightning knocked him out.
"Did you see their vests?" she leaped over the unconscious guard without slowing down. "That's Stark Tech!"
"And?" John genuinely didn't see the problem.
"Tony Stark! Iron Man!" she explained like she was talking to a child. "The greatest hero on Earth would never work with villains like Roxxon! He must've been robbed!"
"You've got the wrong idea about him," John effortlessly broke through the next door. "Tony's a businessman first. Did he shut down his corporation? No. He just sold his tech to whoever paid the best price."
"Iron Man saves the world!"
"And fills his pockets," Ghost Rider continued. "The only reason we're not facing an army of Iron Soldiers right now is because Tony wants to keep his brand exclusive."
"But—"
"Quiet!" He focused on his senses. "The sinner's thread is vibrating like crazy. The Minotaur is trying to escape!"
"That's just like him!" She grabbed John by the belt and shot down the corridor at full speed. "We can't let the monster get away!"
Rocket speed. Doors ripped off their hinges. Guards were blown aside by the sheer force of their passage.
[She clearly decided that the risk of taking a bullet in the back was better than losing the target. Not like their lead rounds could hurt us anyway.]
"Stop!" She hurled her hammer, smashing the escape pod.
"You stupid bitch!" Dario yelled, stumbling back from the sparks. "I'll kill you!"
The shockwave barely ruffled his pristine business suit. Under his gray skin, his muscles rippled like molten steel. His red eyes burned with pure hatred as he lowered his horns at them.
Holy shit…
"You owe me a look at your tits."
"WHAT?!" Thunderheart froze and aimed her hammer at John.
"It's the least you could do for putting me in this situation."
"What the hell are you talking about, you idiot?" She took a step back.
"This isn't a Minotaur," Ghost Rider refused to meet the creature's smirk. "There's no mistaking that look. This is an Avatar of Mammon—the king of one of Hell's circles."
/////
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