Ethan sat hunched over the desk in his hotel room, fingers tapping an absent-minded rhythm against the cheap wood. His laptop screen glowed in the dimly lit room, casting shadows as he reviewed the layout of the Hellfire Club once more. His plan was missing one crucial component—certainty.
What if Sage wasn't even inside the building?
He'd been so focused on securing her ability that he had yet to solve the most basic problem. The Hellfire Club was a high-class establishment with powerful guests and even more powerful enemies. It wasn't a place where someone just showed up every single day.
I need a way to confirm if she's inside before I risk anything.
That left him with three possible solutions. None of them were particularly good.
The first—and riskiest—option was reaching out to Emma Frost.
Ethan knew her history well. After the Hellions were massacred, Emma had distanced herself from the Hellfire Club, trying to rebrand herself as an ally to the X-Men. But make no mistake—she wasn't some reformed hero. Emma's goal was mutant superiority.
She wasn't Charles Xavier, whose idealistic approach often led to failure. And she wasn't Magneto, whose philosophy Ethan actually agreed with—but who took things way too far.
Emma was the balance between the two. A pragmatist who knew the world was cruel and that mutants needed strength and control to survive.
She'd make a great ally, Ethan mused, but she's also a telepath.
Which meant making a deal with her was dangerous. If she read his mind, she could learn everything—his knowledge of the future, his ability, his vulnerabilities. That was unacceptable.
Ethan frowned. Was there a way to control what she could see in his mind?
If he could selectively feed her information, he could use it as a bargaining chip. Emma wanted power and leverage, and if he could offer something valuable—something about the future, something she could use—she might be willing to work with him.
But even if he found a way to deal with her, there was another problem. Why would Emma help him find Sage?
She had no reason to risk exposing herself to the Hellfire Club's inner workings, especially when she was already walking a fine line between being their ally and their enemy.
It was an interesting option—but too dangerous for now.
The second option was far more chaotic but undeniably effective: luring Spider-Man to the Hellfire Club.
Ethan smirked at the thought. A single phone call—an anonymous tip to Peter Parker claiming that someone was being held hostage in the Hellfire Club—and chaos would ensue.
Spider-Man was already being framed as a criminal during Identity Crisis, meaning he was avoiding high-profile fights. But he wouldn't ignore a hostage situation, especially if he believed innocent lives were at stake.
Ethan could picture it now. Spider-Man crashes the party. Alarms blare. Shaw and the Inner Circle go into lockdown.
And Sage?
Any smart person would have an emergency escape route. And Sage was nothing if not smart. If she left the building, Ethan could track her down without ever stepping foot inside.
It was a brilliant plan.
Except... it had one fatal flaw.
There was no guarantee Sage would leave the building.
The Hellfire Club wasn't a standard villain hideout—it was a fortress of the world's wealthiest and most powerful people. They had contingencies for attacks, security teams trained to handle powered threats.
For all Ethan knew, Sage would bunker down with the rest of them. If that happened, he'd have wasted his one shot at acquiring her power.
The last—and most insane—option was to find a symbiote.
Ethan drummed his fingers on the table. Symbiotes were one of the biggest wildcard powers in Marvel. If he could bond with one, it would drastically increase his survival chances.
But finding one?
New York had its fair share of symbiotes. Venom and Scream had both been drawn back to the city multiple times. But the most probable encounter would be with Carnage, since he should still be in prison.
Ethan shuddered. He wasn't desperate enough to go after Carnage.
Bonding with Carnage wouldn't just be dangerous—it'd be a death sentence. The symbiote wasn't just violent; it was insanity given form. There was no way Ethan could control something like that.
That left the possibility of finding a newborn symbiote and raising it himself.
Ethan exhaled sharply. That was... not impossible. Symbiotes bred under extreme stress, and New York City was practically a stress factory. If he monitored Venom or another symbiote long enough, he might get lucky.
But luck wasn't a strategy. It was just another variable he couldn't control.
For now, the symbiote plan was off the table.
Ethan shut his laptop and leaned back, closing his eyes.
Each option had risks.
Emma Frost – Powerful ally, but telepathic and hard to manipulate.
Spider-Man Distraction – Could work, but no guarantee Sage would leave.
Symbiote – Not feasible, and way too risky.
That left Spider-Man as the best immediate choice. Even if Sage didn't leave, the chaos would expose vulnerabilities in the Hellfire Club's defenses.
That information alone would be invaluable.
The next day Ethan told his parents that he felt stiff from staying inside all day and was going out for a walk. Worried but understanding they told Ethan to be careful and not to stay out too late. Making his way to where he remembered Ethan stood at the edge of a busy sidewalk, staring at the Hellfire Club from across the street. It was one thing to see a building on a screen, but standing in front of it—seeing the massive iron gates, the uniformed security detail, the sleek cars dropping off the ultra-wealthy—was an entirely different feeling.
Even from here, he could tell this wasn't just a club. It was a stronghold of power.
The Hellfire Club had been around for centuries, moving in the shadows of global politics. Kings, billionaires, and mutants alike played their power games behind those doors. Even though it was officially a social club for the elite, the real action happened behind closed doors.
Ethan adjusted the strap of his backpack, pretending to check his phone as he took slow, measured steps down the sidewalk. He wasn't going to make the mistake of staring too long at the wrong places. That would be suspicious. Instead, he let his peripheral vision take in every detail.