Mephisto's Hellish Domain!
Hell was a rather vague concept—less a singular dimension and more an entire faction. A complete Hell was formed by multiple evil god dimensions related to the infernal realms. Within Hell, betrayal, killing, and conflict were eternal themes.
As a well-known evil god of Hell, Mephisto naturally occupied an important position within the greater infernal coalition. But Hell lacked a unified leader to serve as the core binding force of their faction. If the fundamental interests of Hell weren't threatened, most of its denizens remained scattered and uncoordinated.
Of course, everyone aspired to claim this leadership role. Everyone wanted to be the true King of Hell. Mephisto certainly harbored such ambitions, as did other powerful evil gods like Satan, Lucifer, Mammon, Bell, and others who ranked among Hell's elite.
But at this moment, Mephisto had no interest in contemplating the title of Hell's King. His current condition was far from optimal.
In his palace at the domain's core, Mephisto burned with black and purple flames, manifesting his rage. Yet this anger also revealed his helplessness.
Damn it! His avatar had disappeared again, and once more, no crucial information had been transmitted back to him.
There was one thing he understood with certainty, however: the disappearance of his Incarnation was definitely connected to Lockhart.
He desperately wanted to know who would become the God of Heaven. Would it be the Supreme Sorcerer of Kamar-Taj? The God-King Odin of Asgard? The mysterious Lockhart? Or perhaps... Dormammu!
The memories he'd received ended precisely when his incarnation truly entered the world of gods. The divine realm itself maintained a powerful shield, making his connection with his incarnation intermittent at best. The closer one approached the core of the gods' world, the more difficult communication became.
Therefore, Mephisto remained unaware that Lockhart and Thor had joined forces. Yet with his vast experience, such a possibility had crossed his mind. He preferred not to dwell on such thoughts at present, however.
He merely wanted to vent his anger.
The disappearance of his incarnation meant a further loss of gathered intelligence. He had already been seriously wounded in an attack by the Ancient One, yet before he could fully recover, he'd been forced to endure another silent defeat.
Anyone would feel uncomfortable in such circumstances!
Mephisto was exceedingly uncomfortable right now, and naturally, he couldn't contain his need to release this frustration. Killing a few demons to vent his inner rage was perfectly normal behavior. After all, in Hell, low-level demons were like weeds—found everywhere and easily disposable.
After casually strangling several eyeless demons, Mephisto suddenly sensed a familiar aura approaching. He immediately halted his activities and waited quietly.
Soon, a familiar figure appeared, and a cold voice reached his ears.
"Mephisto!" Dormammu's voice resonated through the chamber.
Indeed, this was Dormammu's incarnation. His current situation appeared no better than Mephisto's own.
"Mephisto," Dormammu continued, "I won't waste time asking what exactly transpired in the world of gods. But don't forget—you made me promises!"
Dormammu had originally intended to avoid Earth-related matters, at least for the time being. After all, he had recently suffered a devastating defeat at the hands of the Ancient One. He needed time to recover before engaging again.
This was the custom established over thousands of years of conflict with Kamar-Taj. After each war came a period of rest—a time of peace for both sides.
But this time, Mephisto had personally sought him out, not only with persuasion but with treasures, inviting him to join the venture. Most importantly, Mephisto had used Lockhart's existence as bait. Ultimately, they had signed a contract, and the two evil gods had descended upon Earth.
Now, however, it was clear that matters had not proceeded as planned. Mephisto's incarnation was dead, and judging from Dormammu's tone, his incarnation had likely met a similar fate.
So now, Dormammu had come to collect what he was owed.
Mephisto felt a deep headache forming, but he still approached with a smile plastered across his face to greet Dormammu. Having endured multiple attacks recently, his position was somewhat precarious.
After all, there could only be one King of Hell, and if potential enemies could be eliminated, no one would refuse such an opportunity. Therefore, he needed to secure an ally to help him through this period of weakness.
With this in mind, Mephisto quickly invited Dormammu to sit with him.
"Don't worry, Dormammu, I will absolutely fulfill my promises to you," Mephisto vowed.
Then, attempting to change the subject, he added, "Incidentally, I received no real-time updates from my incarnation. What information did you manage to obtain?"
Faced with Mephisto's question, Dormammu's expression darkened. His situation mirrored Mephisto's—the death of an incarnation meant losing a portion of his original power. He had arrived early to prepare, seeking either an explanation or compensation for his losses.
Seeing Dormammu's expression, Mephisto did not press further. He wasn't a fool. In his weakened state, making enemies would be unwise.
Changing tack, he said, "This time, we both suffered significant losses. I've attempted to contact the fallen sorcerers on Earth but have received no reply. I fear their situation may be equally dire."
In response, Dormammu merely nodded and continued to stare fixedly at Mephisto. They were both ancient foxes of thousands of years—there was no point in meaningless chatter. If Mephisto wished for a productive conversation, he would first need to produce the original power and dark weapon he had previously mentioned.
Mephisto disagreed with this silent demand and continued to paint enticing pictures: "However, I doubt Kamar-Taj gained much advantage either. Earth remains intact, which suggests the God has not yet fully manifested. Future opportunities await us."
Dormammu didn't reply, merely staring at Mephisto quietly, as if watching him perform circus tricks. This left Mephisto somewhat helpless, though he understood the reaction. Nevertheless, he truly had no intention of relinquishing his original power at present—after all, his own reserves were critically low.
"Dormammu, I will absolutely fulfill my earlier promises," Mephisto insisted. "But—"
Before he could finish, Mephisto's expression suddenly transformed with shock.
At the same time...
BOOM!
High in the distant skies of Hell's domain, an enormous void rift suddenly appeared. Visible to the naked eye, numerous black threads materialized in the space surrounding the rift—signs of spatial fractures indicating that the nearby dimensions could not withstand such tremendous pressure.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Strong winds began to blow, with the faint tendency to form a tempest all around.
In the next moment, not far from the void rift, the figures of Mephisto and Dormammu suddenly materialized. They stared at the spatial tear before them—or rather, at the two figures standing in front of it.
Mephisto's face contorted with extreme displeasure.
"Ancient One," he snarled, "what brings you to trespass upon my territory today?"