At that moment, Nina—Bella's plump, royal-looking feline—lifted her round little face from her cat food bowl and tilted her head curiously. Her deep blue fur shimmered under the light, and her large pearl-black eyes blinked slowly as she stared at the floating figure of the ghostly little girl who had just entered the room.
She let out a soft, questioning meow.
It was as if she were asking, Who is this now?
Bella glanced at Nina and chuckled. The undead little girl, on the other hand, was momentarily stunned, her expression lighting up with pure delight when she spotted Nina.
"So cute," she murmured softly, her glowing eyes locked on the cat.
To be fair, Nina looked like a feline princess—round face, soft fur like silk, and a pair of eyes that sparkled with curiosity and pride. She was the kind of cat that made even hardened warriors soften.
The little girl floated closer, arms outstretched, trying to hug Nina.
Unfortunately, she passed right through the cat.
Her translucent form couldn't touch anything. Her face fell in disappointment, the joy from moments before melting into a pout.
Seeing her like this, Bella's initially tense expression softened. She had been wary when the little girl first appeared—after all, undead weren't exactly known for being harmless—but she sensed no hostility from this one. No scent of blood. No malicious aura.
It was strange. Undead who retained their humanity were rare—nearly impossible. But this world had already proven to be full of surprises.
Bella crouched down and looked the ghostly girl in the eye. "Alright, little one," she said gently. "Tell me, how did you end up here?"
The little girl looked up, startled. She seemed to remember something unpleasant and quickly dropped her gaze, hugging herself tightly.
"I… I can't remember," she whispered. "I just remember waking up… here."
Bella frowned slightly, studying her. "What's your name?"
"My name is Sally."
"Sally, huh?" Bella tilted her head. "Do you remember your birthday?"
The little girl perked up a bit at the question, her lips curling into a shy smile. "Yes! I was born on August 25, 1996."
She said it proudly, like a student recalling the one answer she was sure of.
Bella blinked. "That would make you… seventeen?"
She looked Sally up and down. "You barely look five or six."
With her curiosity now fully piqued, Bella rose to her feet and walked into the living room. She picked up her laptop from the glass table and began typing.
Sally floated after her, staying a few steps behind like a shy kitten. Even Nina followed, her bushy tail swishing side to side. Sally seemed fascinated by the technology, peering over Bella's shoulder but never getting too close.
"Hmm... nothing in the police database," Bella muttered, narrowing her eyes.
She tried another approach. Her fingers danced across the keyboard.
"Got it," she said suddenly.
A confidential government file appeared on screen. As Bella scrolled through it, her expression changed from curiosity to horror—and then to rage.
Her eyes narrowed as she absorbed every detail. Her breathing grew heavier. She reached out and shut the laptop with a loud snap, then closed her eyes and clenched her fists as she struggled to keep her temper in check.
When she reopened them, Sally was floating in front of her again, grinning and bobbing around like a child in a swimming pool.
Bella had made up her mind.
"Come here, sweetheart," she said softly.
Sally floated closer, a bit reluctantly, but obediently.
"Do you have any special powers?"
Sally blinked, confused. "Special powers?"
Her eyes flashed with a faint blue hue. She looked around the room, spotted a small glass cup on the table, and raised her tiny hand.
The glass trembled… then slowly began to disintegrate into tiny particles, breaking down into shimmering dust before disappearing entirely.
The girl gasped for breath. "Like that?"
Bella stared in stunned silence.
She had seen plenty of abilities—plasma bursts, magic manipulation, even reality warping—but this…
This was erasure.
Not disintegration. Not destruction.
Erasure.
The cup hadn't shattered. It had been wiped out of existence at the atomic level.
Bella swallowed hard. "That's not just a power... That's like a poor man's Phoenix Force or… Origin Magic Power."
How the hell did a little girl like this have something so terrifying?
It made her blood boil.
No wonder those bastards experimented on her.
As Bella watched, Sally's form flickered. Her ghostly body became more transparent.
Her time in this world was limited.
If nothing changed, she would soon disappear completely.
Bella exhaled and gave a wry smile. "Guess I don't have a choice anymore."
She knelt in front of Sally and placed her hands on her lap. "Sally, do you want to stay here? With me?"
The little ghost stared at her, wide-eyed. "I can stay?"
"If you're a good girl and stay out of sight from others, I'll make sure you get plenty of delicious food," Bella promised.
Sally's eyes sparkled. "Really?!"
She floated over and did a happy spin before settling onto the couch like a lazy cat.
"Then… okay! I'll be good!"
"Perfect," Bella said, ruffling her translucent hair. "Just make sure no one sees you unless I say so."
"Got it!"
With Sally settled, Bella stood and grabbed her coat.
The night outside was dark and heavy with anticipation.
She hopped on her motorcycle, black leather armor gleaming under the moonlight. Chains rattled at her side, and with a roar of the engine, she shot off down the street, leaving behind trails of fire.
She arrived in a small fortified town.
Barricades surrounded the area, with agents in tactical gear stationed along the walls. Some held rifles. Others stood silently, watching for any sign of movement beyond the perimeter.
As Bella rode in, the guards didn't flinch. Her reputation preceded her.
Her bike screeched to a halt in front of the main structure.
The flames from the wheels died down, and her leather boots hit the ground with a heavy thud. The skull helmet on her head shimmered for a moment—flames fading—until flesh returned to bone, revealing the weathered face of Johnny Blaze.
The Ghost Rider had arrived.
He walked inside the main building, where white fluorescent lights flickered above. The command room was buzzing with activity—agents typing, phones ringing, data streaming across digital maps.
At the central war table stood several familiar figures: Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, and Steve Rogers, the Captain himself.
They were deep in discussion when Johnny entered.
Natasha looked up and greeted him with a small nod. "You made it. There's still hot coffee if you're lucky. Any luck on your end?"
Johnny walked to the table, picked up a coffee mug, took a sip, and shook his head.
"The guy's too cautious. Left no trace—just more breadcrumbs leading back to Trask."
The others didn't look too surprised.
They were all hitting dead ends.
Clint leaned on the table, eyes narrowed. "What about Iron Man? He's usually here before any of us."
As if on cue—
VROOOOM!
The unmistakable roar of an engine echoed outside.
Steve chuckled. "Spoke too soon."
The rhythmic clang of metal footsteps filled the hall.
Clang. Clang. Clang.
Then came a familiar, slightly annoyed voice—
"Hell, am I the slowest one again?"
Tony Stark strolled in, the lower half of his armor still active. His arc reactor pulsed faintly beneath his shirt, and a half-empty energy drink sat in his hand.
The team chuckled. Even in a world crawling with monsters, mutants, and secret ghosts, some things never changed.
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