The air in the lobby froze.
The smell of disinfectant and cheap tobacco was completely overwhelmed by stale machine oil.
More than a dozen TVA agents in heavy, old-fashioned armor stood in the center of the lobby.
Orange halos glowed at the tips of their Time Pruning Batons, casting the entire space in a dim, oppressive yellow.
The Tactical Team Captain's synthesized voice still echoed through the air. "Purge everyone inside this unauthorized building."
Constantine dropped his usual irreverence. With a slight shift of the fingers holding his cigarette, he slipped several sheets of parchment covered in defensive sigils into his palm.
"Guys, don't say I didn't warn you."
Constantine edged back half a step until his back touched the cold bulletproof glass wall.
"Something's wrong with these guys. They don't belong to any dimension I've ever seen."
"Don't let those glowing sticks touch you."
Pietro snorted.
He snapped the mop in his hands with a sharp crack and tossed the two halves of the wooden handle beside his feet.
"I don't care if they're here to collect taxes or check the water meter. They dirtied the floor I just mopped, and they're going to pay for it."
Pietro swept his hands across his waist, drawing two dark-gold Vibranium daggers.
Demon blood surged through his veins, casting a bloodthirsty red gleam over his gray eyes.
The air tore open around him, leaving a visible ring of white vapor where he had stood.
Pietro had long since surpassed the speed of sound. After Lynn's many modifications to his body, he had even approached the limit allowed by the laws of physics.
His figure became a streak of silver and red lightning, trailing more than a dozen afterimages through the lobby.
His blade shot straight for the Tactical Team Captain's throat.
Two