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"My mama always said life was like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get."
— Forrest Gump (Forrest Gump)
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<(Atem POV)>
"Wait, he's your brother?!" I asked, eyebrows raised, voice laced with disbelief. "Like... your actual brother?" I pressed, still trying to process it.
"It's... complicated." Michelle, the Queen of the Angels, let out a long, tired sigh. Her expression lacked the warmth you'd expect from someone reuniting with a sibling after millennia. "Yes, he was one of us. One of my brothers is an anchorite. In fact, he is the only still living anchorite in my family. But he was never close to anyone in our family, to anyone in the entirety of Heven, honestly. You see, Zarathos was... different. An idealist. Obsessed with the concept of purity of the soul, of rooting out sin, cleansing the world of corruption. He spent every waking moment chasing down sinners, trying to purify their sins and bring them back to the side of 'good' again."
"But that same obsession was what broke him," she continued, her voice colder now. "Where the rest of us became selfish or apathetic when we lost our empathy, he spiraled into something worse. Something broke in him. He wanted to purge the world of sin completely, and in doing so, he got swallowed up by the very darkness he was trying to erase. He fell and turned into a demon lord. And during the war between Heven and Asgard, Mephisto tricked him—enslaved him with his twisted machinations, made him a hunting dog on a leash. However, it seems he was still able somehow to claw back a degree of control over himself… Nevertheless, he's no longer as powerful as the mighty archangel he once was." She finished explaining.
"I see," I murmured. "That's… definitely something." The words slipped out without much thought, but my mind was already racing. Could I purify the Ghost Rider, too? Bring him back to what he used to be—an angel like the others I helped back in Heven? Maybe. Probably. But the question was, did I want to?
Honestly, Ghost Rider is one of the coolest characters in this universe. Not just power-wise, though, yeah, he's an absolute monster in a fight—but because he's willing to go places most heroes won't. He doesn't flinch when real evil shows up. He deals with it in his own brutal way.
If I had to choose, I'd rather help Johnny take full control of the Rider than strip the Spirit of Vengeance out of him entirely. Turning him back into some high-and-mighty angel version might actually be worse. And if Zarathos really is as justice-obsessed as Michelle made him sound, then maybe he's right where he wants to be. Or at least… that's what I'm going to keep telling myself. Because the last thing I want is to mess with one of my favorite superheroes and give him a "happy ending" even he himself didn't ask for it—and probably wouldn't even want.
"Anyway, his backstory doesn't change the mission. You've still got a job to finish and a demon army to wipe out," I said, voice steady, leaving no room for argument. "If you want to talk to him—do it, catch up on old times' ot whatever—go for it. He's still family, I get that. But if he's not interested, walk away. Let him keep doing what he does best— deal out judgment."
I gave her the nod. The kind of signal that said it was time. "Now go show Hell what Heven's army is made of. Make sure they don't even think about scheming against another realm for the next few thousand years."
"As you command, my Lord." She bowed as if my words had unlocked something buried deep within her. Then she turned sharply, raising her weapon high. "My loyal warriors! Today, we fight for Heven—to reclaim our pride—for the glory of our new Almighty Lord! Raise your blades and stand with me, sisters! Tear through every demon in sight, and let them tremble at the name of our Lord!" she proclaimed, her voice booming with fire before letting out a fierce battle cry and launching herself toward the oncoming demonic horde like a furious missile. Behind her, tens of thousands of angels surged forward, each one hungry to carve their own legend into the battlefield.
"What exactly did you do in Heven to make them like this?" Hela asked, her voice laced with dry amusement as she watched the chaos unfold. "I've met uncorrupted angels before—sure, they're naturally inclined toward battle—but this level of fervor? Fighting for you instead of power or spoils? That's new." She commented.
"Nothing major," I replied with a shrug. "Just cured them of their... special condition. Either way, I'm just glad they're focused on the mission." Without another glance, I turned and began walking toward the direction where Natasha and Mephista were locked in combat, deliberately ignoring the carnage behind me, where Ghost Rider and my angels were butchering demons by the dozens like wolves let loose in a henhouse.
'Good thing Michelle left Angela behind in Heven as a contingency,' I mused with a quiet chuckle. 'If she'd brought her too, this would've been complete overkill.' My thoughts trailed as I felt Michelle summon a towering beam of golden-vermilion 'holy' light—wide enough to engulf a small town—obliterating an entire legion of lesser demons in one blinding sweep. 'She may not be on Odin's level, but she could surely give most Skyfathers a serious fight.'
"Ah, looks like the dimension's trying to 'bond' with someone new—to forge its next Hell Lord," Hela said suddenly, her tone calm but laced with intrigue, snapping me to attention.
Naturally, I could sense it too—my cosmic awareness picked up on the realm's energies growing more unstable by the second, clawing around for a new master. It was on the verge of making its choice. And as I've said before, I had a pretty solid idea of who that someone was going to be as well.
But before I could think any deeper, I arrived at my destination—and saw something I definitely hadn't anticipated. "Hey... why aren't you two fighting?" I asked with a hint of disappointment, eyeing Natasha and Mephista, who were calmly talking instead of tearing each other apart like I'd expected from two wildcats thrown into a cage.
"Hmm? You're back already?" Mephista was the first to speak, genuine surprise flickering across her face like she'd just witnessed the impossible. "But how? Father's never been defeated—not once. He's supposed to be invincible in hell." Her voice carried clear disbelief, but her expression seemed to lack any sort of grief or rage. If anything, she didn't seem all that broken up about the possibility that her father might be dead.
"Well, clearly he wasn't. In fact, if I had to grade your father, I would say he was a lot weaker than Odin... but again, your father didn't have access to the power of Hell, did he?" I brushed her off. "Anyway, now that I have defeated your daddy, Mephisto, I think it's finally time I decide what to do with you, right?" I asked, making Mephista stiffen with fear.
"Not sure if I'm out of line here, boss, but maybe cut her some slack," Natalia chimed in from the side, arms crossed as she studied Mephista. "Doesn't look like she was ever much of a daddy's girl. Honestly? I think part of her wanted you to kill her father. Can't say if it's hate or ambition driving that, but she's not mourning him, that's for sure." She glanced my way. "That's why we didn't tear each other apart with a fight to the death. Figured we'd wait it out and see how the fight between you and Mephisto played out first." It was her subtle way of laying out everything she'd picked up about Mephista so far—sharp and precise, just like a professional assassin.
"Hmm, I figured as much. Can't imagine you were too fond of him, Mephista," I said with a dry chuckle. "Honestly, it's hard to picture the actual Devil as the kind of dad who tosses a ball around and gives bedtime stories." I tilted my head slightly. "That said, I can't just let you walk off. Maybe you won't try to take revenge—but some other idiot down the line might try to use you against me, and that'd be... annoying. So, how about we make a deal?"
"A deal?" the crimson-skinned devil princess echoed, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. "You're not the first to offer me one... but sure, I'll bite. What kind of deal are we talking about?"
"How'd you like to rule Hell in my name—as its grand regent?" I asked, flashing a wide, confident grin. Of course, I already knew her answer before the words even left her lips. She understood just as well as I did—if she wanted a comfortable, even happy life in Hell, agreeing to my 'polite offer' was the only real option for her, especially now that the realm itself had chosen her to be its next Hell Lord.
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