HellFire's Rider Of Vengeances

Chapter Two: Becoming One

A/n: Constance Johanssen is an actual marvel character and female version of DC's Constantine.

                    In the heart of Avengers Tower, the atmosphere was tense as several figures gathered around a long, polished table. The room was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from the flickering screen displaying a blurry video. The footage showed Sergeant Clarke Blaze in the throes of a mission gone awry in Afghanistan, her powers spiraling out of control. "Astounding," murmured a man, his voice filled with awe. He was slender, his attire sharp and stylish—black dress shoes, dark grey dress pants, and a purple dress shirt with the top two buttons casually undone. His curly black hair framed a face marked by striking dark chocolate eyes that stood out against his pale complexion.

                    "She's just a kid. What was Fury thinking?" another man interjected from the opposite end of the table, his expression a mix of concern and frustration. He was tall, with an imposing, muscular build, and his silky, short, dirty blonde hair and ocean-blue eyes gave him an almost angelic appearance. He wore a tight white tee that accentuated his physique, paired with khaki pants and sturdy brown boots.

                    "No offense, Cap, but she's far from a child. Her time in Afghanistan saw to that," a third man chimed in from a different side of the table. He had a slim, athletic build and wore an elegant suit. His short black hair and neatly trimmed goatee framed his face, his chocolate-colored eyes reflecting a mix of pragmatism and concern.

                    "Tony's right, Steve. She's a grown woman with combat experience. Plus, Fury made it clear—if she couldn't be in the Avengers, then S.H.I.E.L.D. would have no choice but to lock her up. Considering what we just saw, trying to detain her would only get good people killed," the man in the purple shirt explained, his tone measured and serious. Steve sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. He had nothing against Clarke, but the thought of her potentially endangering civilians weighed heavily on his mind.

                    "Look, the others are searching for signs of Loki's scepter. That will give Bruce and me time to run some tests and figure out a safe way for Blaze to call on her skull-headed friend," Tony explained, though he omitted the fact that he already had some knowledge about Ghost Riders from his encounter with Johnny Blaze a few years back. Steve reluctantly nodded, knowing that Fury wouldn't back down on recruiting Clarke. The decision was made, and all they could do now was prepare for what lay ahead.

                    Months slipped by as Tony Stark and Bruce Banner conducted countless tests on Clarke Blaze, their efforts yielding frustratingly few results. Blood samples, scans, and simulations—all led to dead ends. Desperate for answers, S.H.I.E.L.D. called in Constance Johanssen, a renowned British occult detective known for her chain-smoking habit and sharp wit. Constance's short, pixie-like blonde hair and bright blue eyes were as striking as her ever-present blue trench coat and cigarette. That night, Clarke entered the lab, her attire a stark contrast to the sterile environment—black swimming trunks and a grey wife beater. Constance was busy preparing a metal tub filled with water, ice, white henbane, and a few other mysterious herbs. As Clarke approached, she felt the ghost rider within her clawing at the edges of her consciousness.

                    "I'm going to be bloody honest—this isn't going to be fucking comfortable," Constance said, her thick British accent cutting through the tension. She took a drag of her cigarette, the smoke curling around her words. "But if we can slow your heart rate down enough, you'll slip into a trance-like state. It'll allow you access to your subconscious mind."