Hellfire, a supernatural flame capable of burning both the body and soul.
A force not of this world, it originates from Mephisto himself, a mark of his dominion as the Lord of Hell.
"My hunter, you have done well!" Mephisto said, placing a firm hand on Ghost Rider's shoulder before forcefully merging him back into Johnny.
The flames around Mephisto intensified, wrapping around his form as they forged into a menacing suit of burning armor.
Blackheart, standing nearby, let out a twisted howl as his once pale skin darkened to a deep crimson.
His hair was completely consumed by the inferno, replaced by two jagged horns protruding from his forehead.
"I am indeed Mephisto—the Lord of Hell!" he bellowed, spreading his massive bat-like wings as the hellfire surged.
BOOM!
A wave of hellish flames erupted outward, engulfing the entire town in an instant.
Buildings, streets, and everything in between were consumed by the raging fire, transforming the land into a burning nightmare.
In the midst of this inferno, only two figures remained unaffected—Ethan and Ghost Rider.
Hovering above the destruction, Mephisto's gaze locked onto Ethan.
"A human, immune to my hellfire? Intriguing. It must be the X-gene," Mephisto mused, admiration flickering in his devilish eyes.
Ethan remained unfazed as the demon continued, "As an Omega-level mutant, your X-gene is already in a semi-activated state. Your potential is vast. With my guidance, you could ascend beyond mortal limits, possessing a power akin to a god."
Mephisto lifted his hand, and from the swirling flames, a parchment of hellfire materialized before Ethan.
"Sign this contract and become my Ghost Rider."
Ethan narrowed his eyes, his voice as cold as steel. "I don't need your help."
He knew exactly what Mephisto meant by becoming a "god."
Legends spoke of beings like Thanos, who had reached that level, transcending mortality entirely.
The allure of such power was undeniable, but the cost was too great.
Mephisto was not to be trusted.
His promises were as worthless as the souls he bartered.
Ethan nearly scoffed—Mephisto wasn't even trying to be subtle about his deception.
Would it kill him to at least act more convincing?
Maybe take notes from those adorable pink and white creatures with big ears and fluffy tails to lower people's defenses?
Instead of entertaining the idea, Ethan shifted the conversation.
"So, Blackheart was just another pawn to you."
Mephisto's grin widened. "He thought he had broken free from my grasp, but whether he came to Earth to claim the contract or to confront the Ghost Rider, he was always playing his part in my design."
Ethan folded his arms, analyzing the situation. "He was just a child to you—too naive to realize he was never truly free."
Mephisto chuckled, amused by the observation. "In Hell, being young doesn't grant you mercy. It's a tradition, after all."
Something still didn't add up.
Ethan tilted his head. "I still don't get it. What's your real objective? You've put so much effort into this game, but why? Is the San Venganza contract really that valuable to you?
Even Blackheart had a way to retrieve it. You've had over a century to act. Are you seriously telling me that after all this time, you still had no way to deal with the old Caretaker?"
"The reason is simple—a test. The one who has been blocking my path into the human world for centuries." Mephisto chuckled darkly.
The idea of him cowering in Hell? Nonsense. He had never stopped searching for ways to invade Earth.
The three great Sanctuaries once stood as an unbreakable shield, their combined magic allowing the Sorcerers of Kamar-Taj to detect supernatural disturbances across the world.
But during one of Ghost Rider's confrontations, he had crossed paths with one of these sorcerers.
Mephisto had found a flaw in the Sanctuaries' defenses, a way to bypass their magical surveillance.
Unfortunately for him, no matter how well he concealed his movements, he could never truly escape the Eye of Agamotto.
The Sorcerer Supreme, wielding its divine sight, could always perceive his schemes.
No matter how intricate his plans, they would unravel under her watchful gaze.
Manifesting in the mortal world with his true form was another challenge.
Each time he attempted, his avatar was swiftly repelled by the Ancient One, forced to retreat in disgrace.
However, since Dormammu's last incursion, Mephisto had noticed something… different.
The Sorcerer Supreme had changed. And so, he devised this test—and the results pleased him greatly.
"Now, Earth belongs to me." Mephisto sneered, his fiery wings unfurling.
Ethan narrowed his eyes. "I don't know why you're so smug, but I have a feeling things aren't as great as you think."
Mephisto's arrival finally pieced together the puzzle for Ethan.
This was the looming threat that the Sorcerer Supreme had sensed.
And now that he understood the situation, he had no intention of getting involved.
This was beyond his pay grade. It was time to let the professionals handle it.
"Sorcerer Supreme, this one's yours." Ethan called out, his voice steady despite the flames swirling around him.
He had no fear—not when he knew that the one who wielded the Eye of Agamotto never arrived late.
As if on cue, a golden portal ignited beside him.
Mephisto's confident smirk faltered as a robed figure stepped through.
His expression contorted in sheer disbelief. "Hah! The new Sorcerer Supreme? With such meager power, you think you can—? Wait… What?!"
His eyes bulged as he got a clearer look at the figure before him.
His flaming wings twitched. "You… You're supposed to be dead!"
Clad in flowing yellow robes, the bald woman regarded him with an amused smile.
The Ancient One had arrived.
"Impossible! I sensed your presence vanish. Even the remnants of your magic were wiped from existence. You—!" Mephisto's mind raced, then suddenly, he stilled.
His demonic instincts kicked in, scrutinizing the figure before him. "Wait… I see now. You're nothing but a spirit. Hah! That explains it. No wonder you could deceive me! You willingly discarded your mortal body—the vessel forged from the Dark Dimension's power. But how do you still hold such strength?!"
Ethan, having observed in silence, hesitated for a moment before extending a hand toward the Ancient One.
The moment he reached out, his fingers passed straight through her.
"No wonder…" His eyes gleamed with understanding.
That was why she seemed translucent the first time he saw her.
The Ancient One merely chuckled. "Relax. My presence here is proof enough that he will fail."
"Fail?" Mephisto's laughter came out sharp, mocking.
"You're arrogant, Supreme Sorcerer. Very arrogant."
As his fury flared, the entire hellscape around them trembled.
Flames surged, twisting into a colossal, flaming skull that loomed over the battlefield.
"Do not forget who I am! I am the Lord of Hell! All souls—mortal or otherwise—exist to cower before me! Yet you dare stand before me in a spirit form?! How dare you?!"
The skull roared, its molten jaws snapping as if to consume them all.
The Ancient One remained unshaken.
"That is true—I am not your equal in direct combat. Which is why I brought reinforcements."
With a simple gesture, she conjured another golden portal.
A deep, commanding voice rang through as a figure stepped forth, lightning crackling around him.
"Mephisto! Midgard is under Asgard's protection. You shall not lay a finger on it!"
Thor, the God of Thunder, had arrived—Sif and the Warriors Three close behind him.
Mephisto hesitated for a moment, his fiery eyes narrowing as he finally recognized the newcomer.
"You are... Odin's spawn! I didn't expect Asgardians to meddle in earthly affairs at a time like this."
Thor tightened his grip around Mjolnir, raising the hammer and pointing it directly at Mephisto.
"We Asgardians don't need lessons from hell on what to do. I'll say this only once—return to your pit, or face my wrath."
Mephisto let out a cold chuckle, his towering form crackling with infernal energy.
"You expect me to retreat? Son of Odin, you are far too arrogant. Even your father wouldn't dare speak to me in such a way."
Thor met his gaze with unwavering confidence. "Ridiculous. If my father were standing here, would you still have the gall to say that?"
Once, Thor's impetuous nature had defined him—rushing into battle, letting anger dictate his actions.
But experience had tempered him.
He was no longer the reckless warrior who would charge headfirst without thought.
Yet, his words held undeniable truth.
Even Mephisto, for all his power, would hesitate before provoking Odin directly.
The Lord of Hell knew this as well.
Though he reigned supreme in his own domain, the Nine Realms were another matter.
There, Odin's might was law.
If Mephisto were to openly seize Earth, he risked drawing Asgard's full attention—a war he wasn't prepared to fight.
Beyond the presence of the Ancient One, Odin was another reason Mephisto had long been wary of Earth.
Asgardians believed Earth to be the heart of Yggdrasil, the center of the Nine Realms.
Should Midgard fall, the balance of the cosmos itself would be threatened.
No ruler of Asgard would ever allow such a catastrophe.
Of course, that had been the case in the past.
Now, the situation was different…
Mephisto's lips curled into a knowing smirk. "Odin was indeed a formidable force," he admitted, his voice dripping with mock respect.
"But tell me, Thor—how fares your father these days?"
Thor's expression darkened.
As expected, Mephisto was well-informed, his words confirming that he had been waiting for this moment.
"My father's affairs are none of your concern."
Mephisto's smirk widened as he took a step forward.
"Ah, so defensive. Let me phrase it differently—Asgard has already embroiled itself in war against the Frost Giants, has it not?
And yet, you stand here, threatening another battle? Tell me, son of Odin, do you truly wish to add another war to your people's burden?"
His voice took on a more insidious edge. "I hear it was your recklessness that reignited the conflict with Jotunheim. I'm merely giving you a choice
—return to Asgard, and I will overlook this… transgression. But if you insist on standing in my way, you will only bring your people more suffering. The abyss of eternal doom awaits."
"Thor!" Sif's voice cut through the tense air as she reached for his arm. Her concern was evident in her eyes.
Mephisto was a master of manipulation, and he had struck at the heart of Thor's greatest insecurity.
The truth was undeniable—his past arrogance had brought Asgard to war.
The weight of his actions had shaped the kingdom's current struggles.
Sif feared that Mephisto's words would drive him into self-doubt, clouding his judgment.
But Thor simply exhaled, offering her a reassuring glance. "I'm fine, Sif."
The old Thor might have wavered.
But the Thor who reclaimed Mjolnir had already faced his past and emerged stronger.
He would not allow his mistakes to define him.
He was Thor, Prince of Asgard.
And one day, he would be its king.
A king who stood firm in the face of darkness—not one who ran from it.
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Word count: 1851
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