The air in the Zephyr-One was thick with the scent of ozone and desperation. Fitz and Simmons worked in frantic synchronization, their fingers dancing over holographic displays as the ship groaned under the pressure of the Chronicom fleet’s bombardment. Outside the viewport, the temple of Izel pulsed with a sickening, ancient energy.
Izel laughed, a sound like grinding glass. "He is not your Director. He is the end of all things." Marvel : Les Agents du S.H.I.E.L.D. S06E12 FREN...
"We don't have a choice," a cold voice crackled over the comms. It was Sarge—or the thing that looked like Coulson—staring down Izel in the heart of the temple. His hand trembled around the hilt of his blade. The memories of a life he never lived were bleeding into his consciousness, the spirit of Pachakutiq screaming for release. The air in the Zephyr-One was thick with
Inside the temple's inner sanctum, Daisy Johnson felt the vibration in her marrow. She pushed against the invisible barrier Izel had erected, her gauntlets glowing with kinetic force. Beside her, Melinda May moved like a shadow, her movements precise even as the floor beneath them began to liquefy into pure energy. Izel laughed, a sound like grinding glass