Hiss. Hiss, hiss.
Inside San Venganza Church, shattered bricks and tiles had been scorched into glassy crystals. Where feet wreathed in orange-yellow flames had stepped, they had sunk deeply into half-molten pits.
After a moment, the flames seemed to be drawn back into his body. James Howlett stood naked, with only a jagged piece of bluish-black metal like a battle kilt covering his groin.
Smack. Smack.
He forcefully slapped his cheeks. The sparks drifting from his ears and pupils completely faded away, and he returned to his usual tall, heroic appearance.
Only Emma, the Ancient One, and Charles still bore the shock of the terrifying form he had taken while bathed in hellfire.
"Ja... James?"
Emma softly asked in tentative disbelief. She was unsure whether the man standing before her was still the James she knew. Her boot stepped forward, then shrank back.
"Emma. Cough, cough! Get me some clothes."
The first two syllables that emerged from James's mouth sounded like the explosive roar of flames rising from a burning city, layered with a deep, terrifying rasp.
He hurriedly coughed a few times to adjust his voice back to its normal tone, then instinctively looked at his hands. Everything appeared normal.
"Mr. Howlett, are you still... How is Zarathos's soul?"
The Sorcerer Supreme stared into his eyes for a long while before the worry between her brows finally eased. She seemed to have a way to determine whether this body still belonged to James himself. Without further comment, she asked about the demon lord.
"There's still a little left to clean up, but it won't matter much. The only trouble may be that I'll have a bad temper for a while. Thank you. You've worked hard, dear. And Professor Charles, how many days has it been?"
James took the black