The unmarked vehicle was just pulling up to the perimeter of the S.H.I.E.L.D. tactical base—a massive, reinforced warehouse structure cleverly disguised as a shipping depot.
Suddenly, the air pressure dropped to zero.
Lucifer felt the familiar, cold pressure of Raven's power—but this time, it wasn't a suppression; it was a devastating application of raw, focused emotion turned kinetic force.
CRACK!
The tactical base was ripped from the earth.
The massive structure didn't explode; it imploded, collapsing inward on itself as if crushed by a cosmic fist.
A localized, deafening wave of psychic power focused entirely on Demolition and Retrieval hit the base.
The S.H.I.E.L.D. car carrying Lucifer and Natasha was violently thrown sideways.
The windshield shattered, and the specialized driver was knocked unconscious by the sudden deceleration.
Lucifer's Basic Empathy was overwhelmed: Massive Fear, Systemic Collapse, and a single, immense spike of "Where is he?" from the distant, furious Raven.
Natasha was dazed, coughing, and staring out the broken windshield at the mountain of rubble that was seconds ago a multi-million dollar S.H.I.E.L.D. base.
"What… What the hell was that?"
She gasped, scrambling for her sidearm.
Lucifer, despite the violent impact, was untouched, protected by the brief, reflexive pulse of the Tier 6 Force Field he had channeled the moment the pressure dropped.
He easily reached over and snapped the pressure cuff on his wrist, the technology no match for a point-blank application of his will.
"That,"
Lucifer said, calmly stepping out of the ruined car, surveying the devastation,
"Was my roommate. She doesn't like unexpected delays."
He looked back at the stunned spy, a tired, humorless smile on his face.
"I told you she was waiting for my call."
Lucifer took one last look at the smoking crater that had been a S.H.I.E.L.D. base.
He knew Raven would eventually track him down, but she had done her job.
He was free.
He found his scooter, which had been stored on the vehicle's transport rack.
"Agent Romanoff, I'm going home,"
Lucifer stated, kicking the scooter's starter.
"When Fury asks what happened, tell him to send a memo next time, not a Black Widow. And tell him that the 'mid' strategist should stick to auditing."
He didn't wait for her response. He took off, speeding toward the nearest major transit hub.
He had a million credits to earn, and he was taking the rest of the day off for essential trauma-induced rest.
Lucifer ran away from the ruins of the S.H.I.E.L.D. base.
He left Natasha Romanoff, the ultimate professional, kneeling in the dust, her meticulously laid plan reduced to rubble by a demon's daughter's overprotective fit.
He didn't make it five meters.
A flash of violet light erupted directly in front of him.
The Tier 6 shield flared reflexively around him as he halted his steps.
Raven stood on the empty road, her purple cloak swirling violently despite the lack of wind.
Her eyes were completely shadowed, and the power radiating off her was raw, chaotic, and terrifying.
[Target: Raven (Rachel Roth)]
[Status: Confrontation/Active Hostile Stance (Uncontrolled)]
[Danger: Immediate Catastrophe (Focus on Target Retrieval).]
Lucifer saw the woman he left behind—Natasha—limping out of the clearing, her face grim.
Raven turned her head slowly, fixing her terrifying, shadowed gaze on the Black Widow.
"You. You touched him,"
Raven's voice thundered, echoing not through the air, but directly in Lucifer's mind, filled with primal, unfiltered Homicidal Rage and Protective Fury.
Three massive, inky-black shadows manifested instantly, snapping toward Natasha like living chains, bypassing her internal defenses completely.
"Raven, NO!"
Lucifer commanded, cutting across the distance and physically placing himself between the shadows and the shocked spy.
The shadows hesitated, vibrating violently just inches from Lucifer's back.
"She is the threat. I will end the threat,"
Raven insisted, her voice resonating with ancient power.
Lucifer grabbed Raven's shoulders, ignoring the sheer cold power emanating from her.
"Stop it! She didn't hurt me! She was trying to kidnap me, not kill me! I let her do it!"
He held her gaze, speaking with absolute conviction.
"I am fine. Look at me. No serious damage. I need her alive. Stop the power, Raven. Now."
The confrontation was excruciating. Lucifer's Basic Empathy was overloaded with the intensity of her unchecked emotions, but his genuine concern—not for Natasha, but for Raven's control—managed to pierce the rage.
Slowly, agonizingly, the violent violet light subsided, and the shadows retracted, shrinking until they vanished entirely.
Raven sagged, collapsing against him, exhausted by the exertion and the emotional control required.
She looked up at him, her eyes finally returning to a normal, if weary, state.
"You are reckless, Lucifer. And you are a terrible liar. I felt your fear and your deliberate choice not to call. You did this on purpose."
Lucifer helped her onto her feet.
"Yeah, I wanted to see what would happen. Lesson learned: you're too unstable to leave alone."
He glanced back at Natasha, who was now staring at them with a new expression: Profound Terror mixed with Urgent Categorization.
"We're going home,"
Lucifer told Raven, starting to look for a car.
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