The rooftop battle in Hell's Kitchen had been short but bloody. The Hunters were skilled, clad in silver-lined armor, wielding blades etched with runes. Mira fought savagely, her seven cats moving like shadows in unison—tearing, slashing, scattering her enemies like wolves among sheep. Daredevil joined her reluctantly, his batons cracking against steel, his breathing steady despite the chaos.
When the last Hunter fell, writhing from wounds that glowed with infernal fire, Mira crouched beside his body. She pressed her finger to his forehead and whispered something in a tongue that hadn't been spoken in centuries. His soul flared briefly in her vision—then went out like a candle.
Daredevil recoiled. "What did you just do?"
"Fed," Mira said flatly, wiping her hands. Her cats purred in eerie harmony. "You think I survive this long without… taking something back?"
The Devil of Hell's Kitchen stared at her. For the first time in years, he felt the chill of true damnation. Mira wasn't lying. She wasn't posturing. She was something older and crueler than she looked.
But before he could speak, the world shifted.
The city lights flickered out. The sound of traffic vanished. The rooftop dissolved into a sea of endless black fire.
Daredevil was gone.
The cats hissed, fur bristling, as Mira straightened, her eyes narrowing. She knew this place. She had dreamed of it.
From the fire rose a figure—tall, elegant, clad in crimson. His face was handsome and cruel, with eyes like burning coals. His voice carried the weight of a thousand broken oaths.
"Ah, the stray finds her way home," said Mephisto.
Mira's fists clenched. "I'm not yours."
Mephisto smiled, teeth white and gleaming. "Not yet." He walked around her slowly, like a serpent circling prey. "But you are hunted. Cornered. Alone, save for those charming little fragments you call companions." His eyes lingered on the cats, who growled low in their throats. "Do you even know what you are, girl?"
Mira didn't flinch. "Cursed. That's enough."
"Cursed?" Mephisto chuckled. "Child, you are the heir of ruin. Your blood carries power that dwarfs the witches of Salem, the sorcerers of Kamar-Taj… even the hellspawn that Ghost Rider calls chains. But it is incomplete. Fragmented. Chained."
He snapped his fingers. One of Mira's cats—the striped orange one—let out a yowl of pain. Its body flickered, shifting for a moment into something larger, more monstrous, before snapping back.
Mira snarled, stepping forward. "Touch them again and I'll rip your throat out."
"Good," Mephisto purred. "Rage suits you."
He leaned closer, his voice low, serpentine. "I can unlock you, Mira. Give you dominion not just over your little beasts—but over fear itself. Every mortal, every mutant, every god who looks upon you will see their darkest terror made flesh. The Seven Cats would become Seven Terrors. All I ask in return… is your service."
Mira's heart thundered. Power thrummed at the edge of her senses, tempting, intoxicating. The Hunters would never stop. More would come. And if she was to survive in this world—this Marvel world of gods and monsters—she needed more than claws and curses.
Her cats looked up at her. Seven pairs of glowing eyes. They did not speak, but she understood. The choice was hers.
Slowly, Mira extended her hand. "Fine. Give me the power. But I don't serve anyone."
Mephisto's grin widened. "They all say that, child. Until they do."
The fire roared. The cats screamed. Mira's body convulsed as shadows poured into her veins. Her horns lengthened, curling like blades. Her eyes burned with crimson flame. Around her, each of the Seven Cats erupted with new forms—wings of smoke, jaws of fire, claws that glowed with molten iron. They were no longer mere cursed fragments. They were Nightmares.
When it was over, Mira stood taller, breathing heavy, her body trembling with the surge of dark energy.
Mephisto clapped slowly, mockingly. "Magnificent. Now go, little devil. This world will learn to fear your name."
The fire collapsed. The rooftop returned. Daredevil was back, clutching his batons, disoriented. The Hunters' bodies were still at their feet.
But Mira was different now. Stronger. Darker. Her cats prowled like living shadows, their eyes blazing.
Daredevil took a step back. "What did you do?"
Mira smiled, her teeth sharp in the neon glow. "I leveled up."
And far beneath the city, Mephisto's laughter echoed, already weaving his next game.