"Good evening, Peter."
Captain America stepped into the flickering golden light of the mystical portal. He wore the dark, utilitarian stealth suit from his S.H.I.E.L.D. strike-team days. Logan flanked him, clad in a tactical gray-and-black X-Men uniform. The sight of the two veterans geared up for war made the hair on Peter's arms stand up. Hydra was getting uncomfortably close.
"Evening, Cap," Peter said. He shifted his weight, glancing between the two men. "I heard you made contact with the Winter Soldier in Taranto. Was it really him?"
Steve's jaw tightened. The muscles in his neck jumped. "Yes. I'm certain it's Bucky."
The silence that followed was heavy. Peter knew the history. Bucky Barnes was Steve's oldest friend. But the Winter Soldier was a Hydra ghost story—the exact same ghost story Nick Fury confirmed had assassinated Richard and Mary Parker.
Steve broke the silence, his voice steady. "I am going to end this the right way, Peter. When he regains his right mind, I will stand by him. But I will also make sure he faces a courtroom. If I know Bucky, he'll want to take responsibility for the blood on his ledger. Probably more than he actually owes."
"Let's put a pin in that for now, Cap," Peter said gently. He gestured to the sparking orange gateway. "I've had the portal open for a solid twenty minutes. The subterranean air down there should be fully cycled and breathable now. Let's go."
As Peter led the two super-soldiers through the gateway, Silver Sable hung back in the Roman alleyway. She turned her icy blue gaze to Felicia Hardy.
"Well?" Sable asked, her hand resting near her holstered sidearm. "Do you have a way inside?"
"I don't need one," the Black Cat purred, leaning gracefully against the brick wall. "I'm already certain of what they're hunting. Sometimes you don't need to pick the lock; you just need to read the blueprints." Felicia offered a sharp, gleaming smile. "Take a seat, Sable. I'll tell you exactly what kind of nightmare we're walking into."
Peter stepped through the portal, his boots crunching against ancient, dust-choked marble. Steve and Logan followed, their eyes scanning the massive subterranean chamber. Cindy had been here earlier, rigging industrial LED strips along the crumbling pillars to beat back the crushing darkness.
"Have you ever been to Rome, Cap?" Peter asked, his voice echoing off the vaulted ceiling.
Steve ran a gloved hand over a cracked stone altar. "Once. June 4, 1944. The liberation of Rome. I was clearing out a Hydra special operations unit and securing a beachhead for the Allies." Steve looked up at the towering, shadowed dome. "I never knew this was down here."
"Nobody does," Peter said. "This is the real Pantheon. The one up top is just the public lobby. Cindy and I swept this place. It's a localized nexus."
The chamber was staggering. Rome had a habit of absorbing the deities of every culture they conquered. The alcoves weren't just filled with Roman and Greek marble. There were weathered effigies of Egyptian pharaohs, Sumerian idols, and West African spirits. Peter even spotted a crude carving of Thor, flanked by Shinto shrines and blood-stained Aztec monoliths.
It was a literal pantheon of the world's gods, collected and buried in the dark.
Steve's eyes narrowed. He pointed to a massive, empty dais in the absolute center of the room. The stone was scarred by heavy machinery tracks.
"What was sitting there?" Steve asked.
"The originals," Peter replied, walking toward the empty pedestal. "The Elder Gods. They predate human mythology. We're talking Gaia, Oshtur, Chthon, and Set. Some of the gods in these other alcoves are basically their grandkids."
Peter pointed to the drag marks on the floor. "Hydra took them. They ripped the central idols right out of the bedrock."
When Peter and Cindy had explored the spider-temple in Taranto, the statues of Neith and Anansi had practically hummed with spiritual energy. This room felt hollow. Castrated. The localized magical resonance had been severed the moment Hydra extracted the Elder God statues.
"But why?" Logan grunted, his claws half-extended in a reflexive twitch. "What does Hydra want with a bunch of dusty rocks?"
Steve didn't look surprised. "The Führer himself was obsessed with the occult; it's the only reason Hydra secured its initial foothold in the Third Reich. The Red Skull was a fanatic. He believed magic was just science we didn't understand yet. He used the Cosmic Cube to power his war machine. It makes sense his successors would hunt for older, darker power sources."
"It's worse than that," Peter said, crossing his arms. "If they're tapping into the Elder Gods, we have a massive problem. Oshtur represents white magic. Gaia is the life-bringer. But Chthon is the literal author of dark magic. And Set? Set was the first entity to cannibalize his own family. He's the original demon god."
Peter locked eyes with Steve. "If Hydra is treating Set as their patron saint, this isn't a geopolitical turf war anymore. They're trying to trigger an apocalypse."
Logan cocked his head, sizing the kid up. "You know an awful lot about ancient demonology, bub. Where'd you pick that up? High school history class?"
"A little bit of tutoring from Doctor Strange," Peter quipped. He pointed to an empty alcove near the back. "And personal experience. That spot used to hold Anansi, the West African spider god. I bumped into him during a joyride through the multiverse."
Steve and Logan exchanged a loaded glance.
"Right," Steve said, shifting into command mode. "All our current field intel points to Budapest. If Hydra excavated this temple, they likely transported the relics to a secure stronghold. Logan and I will head for Hungary and locate the primary site."
Steve clapped a hand on Peter's shoulder. "You stick to the itinerary. Keep playing the decoy for the Mysterio operation. We'll rendezvous in Budapest."
"You don't need me to tag along and punch some Nazis?" Peter asked.
"No," Steve said, a grim smile touching his face. "Fury seems entirely convinced the Elementals are going to keep you plenty busy."
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