“You’re going bloody mad.”  Alfie giggled as he pulled away from the man, looking over his shoulder. They were standing in a dark and cold alley that was scary enough to send shivers up anyone’s spine, yet Alfie loved it. “Are you chicken?” he asked playfully.

Fighting demons seemed to be a nightly thing now. At some point along the way, it had lost a lot of its novelty, become something of a chore instead of a terrifying ordeal, and by the time assistance arrived -- a guy with wavy magic hand powers that Riri seriously wanted to know more about -- the battle was nearly over. It didn’t last much longer after that and, before long, the last of the demons had fallen.

Landing on the sidewalk, Riri approached her ally carefully, letting the HUD run an identification scan. Doctor Stephen Strange, the display read, and Riri remembered belatedly that she’d seen his face in the papers when news of the wasteland broke. He’d been the first one to discover it, the person who let them know they were trapped. She made note of it as she came to stand next to him, offering him a wave. “Hi. Dr. Strange, right? I’m Ironheart. Thanks for the help back there, that was awesome. I’ve got, like, a million questions about magic, but they can probably wait, huh?”