Not Until We Are Lost

Illyana woke up in a strange room. She had her clothing, her prosthetic boots, her favorite semi automatic pistols. Alright. Strange. The sixteen year old could roll with strange. She holstered her weapons, put on boots designed to hide her infernal cloven feet and drew a hood up over her horns. It wasn't a perfect disguise and whoever abducted her clearly already knew what she looked like, but on the off chance she escaped she needed to be able to blend in on the street.

It surprised her when the door opened freely.

Skrulls? This looked like a Skrull set up.

Why would they let her wander the halls of some strange place armed? Illyana could walk comfortably enough in her boots, but it did cost her a little speed. Something wasn't right about this anyway. Maybe it was a test.

"Haha guys. Come on. What is this?"

Illyana was never a fan of stealth, anyway. She was sixteen. She liked explosions.