The Hunters did not retreat.
Word had spread quickly through their hidden network—an army of zealots trained across continents, bound by silver and scripture. Mira had been sighted in Hell's Kitchen. Demonic. Cursed. Vulnerable.
And so, under the cover of rain and moonlight, they came in force.
Mira knew they were coming. She could feel their fear before they arrived—whispers at the edge of her mind, tangled and trembling. Her new power crackled under her skin like lightning, hungry to be unleashed.
She stood in a deserted subway station, graffiti-stained walls glistening with dampness. Her cats prowled the shadows, their new forms shifting and flickering—fangs like knives, wings of smoke, claws glowing faintly with molten light.
The first Hunter entered. A woman in silver armor, crossbow raised. Behind her, half a dozen more emerged, boots echoing on the concrete.
"You are bound by curse and hellfire," the leader declared, voice echoing. "Tonight, we end you."
Mira smiled, her horns glinting in the flickering lights. "Come then. Let's see what you fear most."
She snapped her fingers.
The station went black.
The Hunters screamed as the darkness thickened, swallowing sound and sight. From the shadows, Mira's cats leapt—not as beasts, but as Nightmares. One appeared as a giant serpent with burning eyes; another as a skeletal hound dripping blood. Each Hunter saw something different, something pulled from the marrow of their terror.
One dropped her crossbow, shrieking at visions of her dead father. Another clawed at his armor, convinced it was crawling with insects. Mira walked calmly among them, her eyes burning like twin suns in the dark.
"This is my gift now," she whispered. "I don't just kill you. I own your fear."
Her hand brushed against a Hunter's chest—his body convulsed as his soul erupted in a flare of crimson light before collapsing lifeless to the floor.
The battle was over before it began. The station was littered with broken weapons, dropped torches, and silent corpses. The cats purred, satisfied, their nightmare forms dissolving back into flesh and fur.
Mira exhaled slowly, trembling with the raw power. It was intoxicating, terrifying, addictive.
And then she heard it.
A voice. Too loud. Too cheerful.
"—aaaand scene! Bravo! Standing ovation from me, folks. Wow. Chef's kiss."
Mira's eyes narrowed. A figure clapped enthusiastically from the edge of the platform.
Red and black suit. Dual katanas. Masked face tilted in exaggerated amusement.
"Deadpool," Mira muttered.
"Ding ding ding! You win the prize!" Deadpool hopped down from the platform, boots splashing in puddles. He gestured grandly toward the corpses. "I gotta say, kiddo, that was top-tier horror movie material. Freddy Krueger would be jealous. Oh wait—does Freddy exist in this universe? Ugh, continuity is a nightmare."
Mira glared. "You're in my way."
Deadpool wagged a finger. "Correction: I'm in your story arc. Big difference. See, the writers—uh, I mean fate—clearly want us to team up. You're all dark and broody with cats, I'm loud and stabby with jokes. Together, we're unstoppable. Also, my therapist says I need more friends who aren't imaginary."
One of Mira's cats hissed, its form flickering with shadow. Deadpool crouched, tilting his head.
"Aw, kitty! Who's a little eldritch abomination? You are! Yes, you are!"
The cat swiped at him, claws raking sparks across his chest armor. Deadpool gasped dramatically. "Okay, rude. But fair."
Mira sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I don't need a sidekick."
"Good, because I'm not a sidekick," Deadpool said, standing tall. "I'm a co-star. Equal billing. Possibly the comic relief, unless you count the cats." He leaned closer. "By the way, love the horns. Very metal. Do they pick up Wi-Fi?"
Before Mira could answer, a volley of bolts clattered into the walls around them. More Hunters surged into the station—dozens this time, shields raised, chanting in some ancient tongue.
Mira's eyes lit with fire. The cats growled, shadows stretching. Deadpool twirled his katanas with glee.
"Ohhh, baby," he said. "This is my kind of date night."
The Hunters charged.
Deadpool leapt into the fray, slicing through armor, cracking jokes with every swing. "You guys ever hear of personal space? No? Cool, let me introduce you to my sword—its name is Carl!"
Mira unleashed her Nightmares, the station drowning in screams as the Hunters' fears consumed them. The cats moved like living storms, tearing through steel and flesh. Together, Mira and Deadpool fought in a chaos of blood, fire, and laughter.
When the last Hunter fell, Deadpool wiped gore off his mask and gave Mira a thumbs up. "Team Menagerie, baby! I'll get the t-shirts printed tomorrow."
Mira crossed her arms. "This doesn't make us a team."
Deadpool winked. "Sure, sure. Keep telling yourself that. But trust me—this is the start of a beautiful, bloody friendship."
And somewhere in the shadows, unseen, Mephisto smiled. Everything was going exactly as he planned.