Vector Control in Marvel

Although Ethan had never seen these symbols before, the moment his eyes landed on them, he understood their meaning instantly. 

The words carried an inherent magic that made them comprehensible to any being.

"Hell has temporarily suspended earthly business operations. The demon you summoned is currently out of the service area!" A deep, otherworldly voice resonated in his mind, translating the cryptic message into modern language. Ethan's expression twisted into one of disbelief.

Mordo read the message aloud, his face contorted with shock and denial.

"Impossible! Mephisto! We had a deal! Why aren't you answering?!" 

Mordo's voice cracked with desperation.

Ethan blinked, realization dawning on him. 

"Wait a second… when exactly did you make this deal? I probably should've mentioned—I kinda dealt with Mephisto's main body last week."

A beat of silence passed before Mordo turned to him, eyes wide with confusion. 

"You're lying… That's impossible."

Thinking it over, Ethan smirked. 

It made sense. 

Mephisto was always scheming, always setting up multiple contingencies. 

If San Venganza had failed, Mordo was supposed to be his next move. 

But Mephisto hadn't accounted for one thing—Ethan had gotten to him first. 

Now, it seemed, the devil himself was licking his wounds in Hell, nursing both a physical and psychological defeat.

Mordo's lips trembled as he muttered the words over and over. 

"Mephisto's body… was defeated? No. No! You're lying! You're all lying!" His eyes blazed with insanity as he turned on them, his grip tightening around his remaining magic. 

"Sorcerers… all of you… to HELL!"

Doctor Strange sighed heavily. 

"Enough of this," he muttered, casting a swift stun spell. 

A burst of glowing sigils flared to life, and Mordo collapsed into unconsciousness.

As the chaos settled, Strange turned to survey the wreckage of Kamar-Taj. 

His shoulders sagged slightly. "It's over."

Ethan approached casually, hands resting behind his head. "Regretting it already?"

Strange shook his head, his gaze distant. 

"Not at all. If we don't push for change now, then when New York falls into darkness, the mundane world is continuously changing… it might be too late for sorcerers to rethink their place in the world."

His fingers brushed the Eye of Agamotto as he spoke, the weight of his visions heavy in his voice.

"I am just surprised at how dedicated you are to pushing for the secularization of magic," Strange admitted. 

"I know what you're trying to do. And to be honest, besides providing some information, sorcerers won't be much help to your ultimate goal."

Ethan smirked, glancing at Strange. "Looks like you've seen more than I thought."

Strange gave a knowing smile. 

"Not as much as you think. It's just that your vision for humanity's future is too significant to ignore."

Ethan's smirk grew into a full grin.

 "It's simple, really. I want to muddy the waters. If sorcerers become more involved in the secular world, the already-complicated balance of power gets even messier. 

And in that chaos, mutants—who are constantly being watched by every major force—will finally have some breathing room to do what they really need to do."

Strange nodded, his expression unreadable. 

"I'll have the information you wanted on the ancient mutants prepared soon. Consider this the first collaboration between sorcerers and mutants. I suspect it won't be our last."

...

"So, the successful completion of the mission you mentioned... involved blowing up all of Kamar-Taj?" Fury's voice was laced with frustration as he held the report Ethan had sent him, his expression dark.

"Blowing up? Come on, Fury, let's use a little more civilized terminology here. It's called strategic demolition. And considering they'll rebuild with compensation, it's really more of a necessary reconstruction," Ethan said, tapping the table with a serious expression, though his smirk betrayed his amusement.

"Right. And now I'm a free laborer helping sorcerers rebuild their home." Fury leaned back, unimpressed. 

"Sounds like I'm the only one footing the bill for something we didn't even break."

"Exactly! Isn't this better?" Ethan grinned. 

"You of all people should know that the most expensive things are the ones labeled 'free.' Think of it as an investment."

Fury exhaled heavily, saying nothing, which was as good as admitting defeat. 

The World Security Council and S.H.I.E.L.D. had already deliberated over how to approach the mystical community. 

Unlike extraterrestrials, whom they could barely track, sorcerers were still human—capable of wielding immense supernatural power, but human nonetheless.

Psychologists, sociologists, and strategy experts had analyzed their ideology and societal structure inside and out. 

There were already multi-decade plans in place detailing how to integrate sorcerers into modern civilization, ensuring they became part of the global order rather than operating outside it.

Compared to the billions in the secular world, the sorcerers were a small, isolated group. 

The real concern had never been their requests—it was their unwillingness to engage. 

But now, the door had cracked open, and once that happened, everything else would follow naturally.

Ethan stretched his arms. "So you guys already mapped this all out. Good to know. That means I can officially retire."

With that, he cut the call and leaned back into his seat, letting out a relaxed sigh. 

At the moment, he was on a return flight—but not just any plane. 

This wasn't Melinda May's S.H.I.E.L.D. quinjet.

 It was the X-Men's signature Blackbird, and his only company onboard were the four mutants he had pulled from the academy.

As for Coulson and May, they were still at Kamar-Taj, waiting for Fury's next orders. 

Meanwhile, Ghost Rider—always one for dramatic exits—had decided to stay behind, seeking Doctor Strange's help to break free from Mephisto's lingering curse.

"You guys really stirred things up this time," a gruff voice cut in. "Enough to make me and Storm come and collect you."

Logan, better known as Wolverine, turned in his seat, casually lighting a cigar.

"Don't listen to Logan," Storm interrupted, flicking her fingers. 

A gust of wind extinguished his cigar before he could take a second puff. "The professor values the intel you gathered. He asked us to bring you back personally."

"Maybe I should remind you that smoking isn't allowed on the jet," she added with a smirk.

Logan sighed, looking down at his now-useless cigar. "This is why I have trust issues."

Ethan glanced up. "The professor's at the school now?"

"Of course," Storm confirmed. "He's waiting for you in his office as we speak."

"Perfect timing," Ethan muttered before glancing back at the others. 

Colossus, or rather, Piotr, was fast asleep in his seat, still clad in the enchanted armor he had received earlier. 

He had been so thrilled with the enhancement that he hadn't taken it off even after the mission had wrapped up.

The weight of Piotr's armored form had bent his seat slightly, and at some point during the flight, John and Bobby had ended up leaning against him, their bodies tangled as they slept. 

The scene was oddly peaceful—aside from Bobby occasionally mumbling "Rogue" in his sleep.

The battle at Kamar-Taj had been their first real taste of war. 

The exhaustion had finally caught up to them, and the fact that they had lasted this long before passing out was impressive in itself.

Ethan stifled a yawn and shifted slightly, making sure Katie could rest more comfortably against his shoulder. 

He let his own eyes drift shut, allowing himself a moment of rest as well.

With the Blackbird's speed, it was only two or three hours before they arrived back at the Xavier Institute.

"Welcome back, Ethan." As he pushed open the office door, the first thing Ethan saw was the gleam of light reflecting off a bald head. 

Professor X turned toward him with a warm smile.

"Professor, maybe you should move your desk away from the window," Ethan muttered, rubbing his eyes.

A deep chuckle came from the side. "Kid, you just said what I've been thinking for years."

Ethan turned to see a tall, broad-shouldered figure stepping forward—a man in a white lab coat with glasses, his blue-furred face carrying a knowing grin.

"And you are…?" Ethan asked, instinctively taking a step back at the unexpected sight.

"Dr. Henry Philip McCoy. But most people just call me Hank or Beast." The blue-furred scientist gave a small laugh, unfazed by Ethan's reaction.

Recognition clicked in Ethan's mind. "Ah. Right. Beast."

"Hank is an exceptional scientist and a fellow mutant," Professor X explained as he maneuvered his wheelchair closer. 

"His expertise spans genetics, history, and ancient literature. I brought him in to assist with your search for Apocalypse."

"Apocalypse, the ancient mutant legend?" Beast rubbed his hands together, his expression lighting up with excitement. 

"Fascinating. I've read a few accounts about him. Finding his burial site could be quite the adventure."

"Where are the documents you retrieved? Still on the Blackbird?"

"No need. I have them right here." Ethan lifted his hand, and the runes on his ornate ring flickered to life. 

In an instant, a large wooden chest, nearly half his height, materialized before them.

Inside, ancient scrolls and parchment were carefully packed—historical records preserved against the erosion of time. 

Some of these texts were older than civilization itself, untouched by decay or oxidation.

Both Beast and Professor X glanced at the ring on Ethan's hand, exchanging knowing looks.

"Magical storage?" Beast mused.

"A little trinket I got from the Sorcerer Supreme," Ethan replied nonchalantly.

Beast chuckled. "Magic does have its conveniences."

Though intrigued, he quickly shifted his focus to the historical texts, his scientific curiosity taking precedence over magical artifacts.

"I'll leave you two to talk. I'm going to start analyzing these records right away." 

Just as he turned to leave, Beast suddenly paused, reached into his coat, and tossed Ethan a USB drive.

"Here, take this. I have a feeling it'll come in handy for you."

Ethan caught it, eyeing the scientist with curiosity. "What's on it?"

Beast simply smirked. "A little something you'll appreciate."

With that, he effortlessly lifted the massive wooden chest with one hand—despite it weighing well over a hundred pounds—and strode out of the office as if it were no heavier than an empty cardboard box.

"Well," Ethan murmured, watching him go. "That guy definitely knows his physics."