"David?" Dormammu's question hung in the space between them.
"Don't concern yourself with him," Mephisto replied, contempt saturating his tone. "Greed might enable a serpent to swallow an elephant, but David? He's merely an ant attempting the same feat."
When David had initiated his plan, Mephisto had already surmised his intentions. Otherwise, how to explain such aberrant behavior? The fallen sorcerer had doggedly followed Mephisto throughout their mission—his sudden departure could only be explained by one objective: the colossal divine soul.
The fool.
With David's limited essence, controlling a Celestial's soul was beyond impossible. Even Mephisto himself, unless manifesting his true form at full power, would not dare claim the ability to command such a divine vessel.
"Greed inevitably brings self-destruction," Dormammu observed calmly. "Anyone can experience desire—the crucial distinction lies in whether one possesses the wisdom to restrain it."
Hearing Dormammu's pointed remark, Mephisto smiled thinly. "Rest assured, I am the least avaricious among us."
The subtext was clear. Mephisto's earlier insistence on David accompanying them had been calculated—a reminder to Dormammu himself to curb any private ambitions regarding the divine essence.
Dormammu met Mephisto's obsidian gaze for several lingering seconds before looking away. When he spoke again, his voice emerged as barely more than a whisper.
"We proceed with caution. The divine essence is not easily manipulated."
His tone deepened with warning. "Remember where we stand—within the god's own consciousness. This is the divine essence's home territory."
Dormammu drifted closer to the captive essence, studying its continued struggle. A flicker of astonishment and covetousness shone briefly in his eyes, though he masked these emotions masterfully from casual observation.
Meanwhile, Strange exchanged a meaningful glance with Grindelwald before initiating mental communication through their Legilimency connection.
"Master, what exactly has David done? Why did he depart so abruptly?"
Grindelwald harbored his own suspicions, though they seemed too outlandish to voice. Ultimately, he merely shook his head in response.
One could hardly blame his uncertainty. Gazing upon that immense divine soul, the notion of attempting to usurp it seemed beyond lunacy. When an entity grew beyond a certain magnitude without corresponding capability to control it, the result was invariably destruction.
Whatever calculations had driven David to this choice remained obscure to conventional reasoning.
BOOM!
A thunderous sound erupted behind them.
The Celestial's soul advanced with ponderous steps, each movement covering kilometers despite its seemingly unhurried pace.
They had one small advantage—the entity lacked complete consciousness. Had it possessed full awareness, their escape would have proven far more complicated.
However...
BOOM!
Another massive step, noticeably quicker and covering greater distance than before.
With this single stride, the gap between pursuers and pursued diminished dramatically.
The imprisoned divine essence seemed to sense its soul's proximity. It began resisting their containment with renewed vigor.
Dormammu quickly extended his hand, channeling additional magical energy to reinforce the restraints.
BOOM!
A third footfall landed with earth-shattering force. This time, everyone distinctly felt the massive shock wave of displaced air surging toward them.
Expressions shifted to alarm throughout their company. Several sorcerers displayed naked fear.
What was happening?
The divine soul's reactions were accelerating, becoming more coordinated with each passing moment.
Even Mephisto's countenance grew serious. He intensified his power output and altered course, steering the divine essence and their entourage in a different direction.
Perhaps by changing vector, they might confuse the soul-body's instinctual pursuit.
However...
BOOM!
The massive divine soul pivoted with unexpected precision, bringing one colossal foot down directly toward Mephisto's position.
WHOOSH! WHOOSH!
Darkness descended as the enormous limb blotted out the ambient light. Mephisto's expression shifted to alarm as he executed an emergency evasive maneuver, bringing the divine essence with him.
The surrounding sorcerers scattered in all directions.
This was no longer pursuit—this was targeted attack. A single misstep would cost lives.
The fallen sorcerers found this development deeply unsettling, though they took grim comfort in the fact that Mephisto appeared to be the primary target. With sufficiently quick reactions, they could remain outside the attack radius.
Damn it all!
Mephisto, having narrowly avoided the crushing blow, cursed inwardly.
This behavior contradicted everything he had predicted. A soul-body of such magnitude should not react with such precision and speed. What natural mechanism could explain this anomaly?
Unless...
He gazed upward at the towering divine soul, a previously inconceivable hypothesis forming in his ancient mind.
Impossible!
This defied all mystical principles. How could any non-divine entity possibly control a god's soul?
"Mephisto, the divine soul has been altered," Dormammu's grave voice reached him. Without awaiting response, the cosmic entity began ascending along the Celestial's massive form, apparently seeking the source of this disturbance.
Mephisto subdued his tumultuous thoughts and followed. If they failed to identify the cause, greater numbers would only hasten their demise.
Moreover, he needed to confirm whether his outlandish theory held merit.
WHOOSH! WHOOSH! WHOOSH!
As Mephisto ascended with the captive divine essence, the soul-body seemed to sense its consciousness's direction. An enormous hand materialized, fingers splayed wide as it attempted to capture Mephisto's position.
Drawing upon millennia of experience, Mephisto executed a series of complex evasive patterns, narrowly avoiding capture each time.
Below him, Grindelwald, Strange, and the remaining sorcerers followed his ascent. With the divine essence in Mephisto's possession, they had no choice but to follow regardless of danger. Abandoning the pursuit now would render all previous sacrifices meaningless.
Soon, Mephisto reached the divine soul's face.
Dormammu already stood positioned at the center of the divine brow, his expression solemn as he studied an amber-gold sigil manifesting there. Waves of twilight energy rippled outward from this mark, carrying a faint but unmistakable signature.
David.
Mephisto's face transformed with shock.
Against all conceivable odds, David had succeeded!
________________________________________
Who am I?
Who am I?
Sorcerer David?
Something about this name resonated with familiarity.
Is this my identity?
No... how could I be something so insignificant as an ant?
Who am I?
Who am I?
Sorcerer David?
This designation continued to evoke recognition...
Is this truly who I am?
No, this cannot be my true identity...
Who am I?
Who is...
Deep within the vast divine soul, this cyclical questioning repeated endlessly, generating turbulent waves throughout the spiritual essence.
The true spirit burned and condensed with increasing intensity.
It struggled to awaken its authentic consciousness—to recall its true self.
Such awakening typically required tremendous spiritual power accumulated over vast epochs.
Yet now, an unexpected catalyst had appeared—a complete true spirit. Though minuscule by cosmic standards, David's essence possessed wholeness and defined identity.
As it attempted integration, this foreign essence inevitably produced collision and friction, generating spiritual sparks that accelerated the awakening process.
While the enormous divine soul worked to assimilate David's essence, it simultaneously suffered contamination from the same source.
David's memories and limited perceptions held negligible significance in this cosmic exchange.
But something else accompanied his essence—something unexpected.
Traces of power belonging to the Twilight God.
This presented David with an unprecedented opportunity.