Mephisto sat slouched upon his throne, the jagged stone and twisted steel of his infernal seat echoing the foul weight of his mood. His clawed fingers drummed against the armrest, each tap sharp and impatient; his crimson face twisted into a scowl as his eyes bored into the glowing orb hovering before him.
Through the swirling, smoky depths of the orb he gazed into the mortal realm. His focus was on one figure the Rider, the human who bore the Spirit of Vengeance.
The Spirit of Vengeance was a great and powerful force, created directly by the One-Above-All himself. It should have been his. He wanted the Spirit to serve him, to be bent to his will. So when he learned that it had come to possess a mortal, simple human he leapt at the chance to finally get his hands on it. He approached the human and offered him many things if he would kneel and serve, so that Mephisto could shape and mold the Spirit into his servant for eternity. Yet the human resisted and defied him.
The man did not bend.
So Mephisto dragged him to his domain, intent on breaking him by force. But two others came with him. One was a thorn in his side he had wrestled with before: the sorcerer who dared oppose his schemes upon Earth. Alongside him stood an Asgardian, their prince, no less.
At first, Mephisto did not care. He thought to amuse himself by letting the three struggle, by dangling hope before them as one toys with prey before the kill. But then… they proved far more dangerous than he had expected.
Scores of his demons fell, legions ripped apart, their bodies cast into fire and ash. The humiliation burned worse still, for in the end he had been forced to take the field himself. He still felt the sting where the sorcerer's conjured light and the Asgardian's thunder had struck him in unison.
His claw drifted to his chest, fingers curling as the memory replayed. His rage deepened. They had scarred him. They had dared to scar Mephisto.
Since then, his thoughts had been only of vengeance revenge carefully sharpened, like the edge of a blade dipped in venom. He reached into the mortal world, tempting and corrupting, seeking champions he could shape into weapons to strike back. Some bent. Most broke. Only one had seemed worthy, one named Fan Fei. But when she rejected him, he made her pay the price of defiance.
His lip curled into a sneer.
The orb shimmered again, and with a flick of his claw he shifted its gaze elsewhere. The image of the Rider vanished. Now before him loomed blue-skinned mortals who called themselves the Kree.
Mephisto's grin widened.
The image revealed the Kree at work upon Earth. They had crept quietly into his favorite domain, seeding their experiments within humanity. At first, he had not cared another faction meddling with mortals was of no consequence to him. But now… now the results of their efforts drew his attention.
The humans were being reshaped. Their potential was being unlocked. Mephisto's eyes glimmered like smoldering coals as a cruel smile spread across his face.
"Perhaps," he whispered to himself, voice low and venomous, "I can use these Kree. Yes… perhaps their little games may serve my designs."
The orb swirled, shifting scenes again. First, it showed a gray-skinned man leading men and women as they built houses and planted crops. Then, a pale-skinned woman with fiery red hair, sitting in deep meditation within a cave. And then, finally, the two mortals who had wounded his pride, the sorcerer and the Asgardian trudging through an icy land.
But it was not they who captured his hunger now.
The green one.
Mephisto leaned closer, pupils narrowing into slits as the orb magnified the figure—the mortal who wielded that… mysterious spectrum. For eons, many had tried to grasp it. Countless beings had scoured realms seeking to master the vast ocean of power that lay within the spectrum. All had failed. It remained unknowable, untouchable.
In other universes, he knew of only a select few who had gained some part of its strength; they were very powerful beings in their respective universes.
Until now. In his universe, only this green mortal wielded it with true mastery, bending the impossible power to his will. Mephisto's lips peeled back, revealing his fangs. His thirst for revenge upon the sorcerer and the Asgardian dulled, replaced by a deeper intrigue.
His clawed hand drifted over the orb, and he chuckled darkly. The Kree will do nicely. Their ambition only needs a nudge. Let them think it their plan. Let them challenge his green curiosity… and bleed for him.
The orb dimmed suddenly as the air in the throne room rippled. A portal tore open before him. From it stepped a figure.
A being that mirrored Mephisto's own infernal visage horns curling, skin crimson, eyes like burning embers. But unlike him, this one was clad in black armor, runes carved across its plates, shadows clinging to its form.
Mephisto rose from his throne, his smile replaced with a snarl.
"What," he spat, his voice echoing across the hellscape, "are you doing here?"
"Is that how you treat a guest, brother?" the armored one said.
Mephisto spat the word back, mocking. "Brother? Speak quickly before I throw you out."
The armored Mephisto's eyes blazed. "Come with me. The others are waiting."
"I have no patience for another folly," Mephisto growled, stalking down from his throne. "The last time we gathered was for the Pandemonium Cube affair, a waste of my power and my time."
The armored fiend stepped closer, his voice low and sharp. "We will do this with or without you. But trust me, brother, you will regret saying no."
Mephisto's clawed hands flexed, sparks dancing from his fingers… and then, with annoyance on his face, he followed his counterpart into the portal.
The portal spilled them into a colossal chamber lit by endless fire pits. Waiting there were seven more reflections of himself each different by their universe's design.
One was fat and squat, rolls of infernal flesh jiggling beneath a crown of tiny horns. Another was female, her beauty razor-sharp, eyes glowing like molten gold. A third was skeletal-thin, dressed in a slick black suit, smiling with sharklike teeth. One was a massive serpent, coils shifting, scales reflecting crimson light. Another was a great dragon, wings folded against the chamber walls, its breath smoking fire. One wore a thick beard and an eyepatch, scars scoring his face. And another was child-sized short and squat his eyes too large and gleaming with mischief.
Mephisto's lips curled. "Only nine of us, then?"
"Yes," the armored one confirmed, stepping onto a raised obsidian platform.
The chamber fell silent as the armored Mephisto raised his clawed gauntlet. His voice thundered across the chamber:
"My fellow Mephistos! I have gathered you here because our universes each hold something, something that will help us gain power unimaginable, even to us. Power over everything. Hell across every reality. One endless Mephisto multiverse."
The female Mephisto hissed. "The last time we convened the council, 616 of us conspired to do the same. We failed. What can nine of us do now that so many could not?"
Nods and growls echoed in agreement.
Mephisto himself sneered. "Yes, Twelve. Tell us your grand plan."
The armored Mephisto's grin split his face. "We nine… we have the means to enter the God Quarry."
The chamber froze in silence. Not even Mephisto's usual sarcasm slipped free.
"Yes," Twelve continued, his voice dropping to a reverent snarl. "We will enter it and then delve into it, find the First Firmament itself, and tear the marrow of creation from its bones. Power over all. Dominion over every realm."
"To challenge the One-Above-All himself."
The armored one's gaze fixed on Mephisto.
"And your universe," he said, "holds the most important key of all."
Mephisto's grin widened, his fangs glinting. He spread his arms wide, mock theatrics dripping from his every word.
"Well, it seems I was wrong, brother, to hesitate to come…" He laughed. "Let it be known the Council of Red is once again in session."
Their laughter echoed through the chamber, shaking the realm of Hell itself.
.
.
.
Max guided the glowing green construct-truck steadily through the mountain passes of the Himalayas, toward Agamotto's home. He could have simply flown there in seconds, but that would have bored him. He preferred to take the long, scenic route.
High ridges and valleys stretched beneath him, wrapped in mist. They had stopped a few minutes earlier to hunt a deer. Thankfully, Agamotto knew spells to imbue the cooked meat with mind-blowing flavor. If Max was going to learn any magic, it was going to be that.
Max took a bite of the venison, savoring it, smiling to himself.
Enjoying the little things, he thought.
His gaze drifted to the rear of the construct. Inside lay the caveman, the one who could transform into a towering titan with a glowing star shaped brand on his chest. Max couldn't stop replaying that battle in his mind. That thing was power incarnate, and if Jade was right, its strength would have kept climbing without end.
That's dangerous, Max admitted silently. He prided himself on knowing much about this universe, but he had no memory of reading about a being quite like this. He had a lot of gaps in his knowledge, and this was one of them.
"Max," Jade's voice came, sharp in his mind.
"Yes?" he answered, shaking off his thoughts.
"I've uncovered something… interesting."
"More weapon specs?" Max asked; he had told her to prioritize data like that when she sorted through all the databases they had stolen or recovered in their travels.
"No," Jade replied firmly. "I've been analyzing some top-secret information from the Kree Empire's networks. There's something tied to Earth."
That got Max's attention. He sat straighter in his seat. "Now that is interesting. Go on."
"One of the reports mentions a rogue faction that splintered from the Empire. They call themselves The Genesis. And according to this, their focus is Earth."
Max's expression darkened. "What are they doing?"
"They're experimenting," Jade said. "On humans."
Max's eyes narrowed. He knew exactly where this was going. "Inhumans," he muttered.
"In the last report, the Kree mentioned that the Genesis faction may be planning to subjugate the entire planet."
"Of course they are. Guess we'll have to deal with that sooner rather than later."
"Should I add it to the list of things to do?" Jade asked.
"Yes," Max muttered. "Top of the list, Jade. We'll begin tomorrow. For now—" He yawned again. "—I need sleep. Been up too damn long."
"Good. You have not slept for fifty-six hours," Jade said softly.
The Himalayas loomed ever larger as the construct neared Agamotto's home. Suddenly, the sorcerer who had been meditating stirred beside him.
"Lantern," Agamotto said.
"I've told you, you can call me Max, Motto."
But the sorcerer didn't smile. His voice hardened. "Stop."
Max halted the construct instantly, eyes narrowing. Agamotto's hand rose, fingers weaving through the air as if feeling invisible threads. His expression grew grim.
"There is someone inside my home," he whispered. "An uninvited guest."
Max's brow furrowed. "Who?"
"One… very powerful."
Max flexed his hands, green light curling around his knuckles. "We can handle whoever they are." He turned. "Wake Odin."
Agamotto nodded, and with a flick of his spell, the Future All-Father stirred. Odin blinked blearily, clutching Mjolnir. "Is there a fight?" he asked, half a growl, half eager.
"Maybe," Max answered. "Let's find out."
The construct set down in the courtyard of Agamotto's house. Max quickly reinforced the pod holding the unconscious caveman, layering on more construct plating. He wasn't about to risk that thing waking up.
The three stepped inside.
"We know you are here," Agamotto called. "Come out and face us, intruder."
Max tensed, scanning the house with the ring. Then he spotted movement from the room he'd been staying in. A silhouette emerged shaped like a woman but still hidden in the dim. Slowly, she stepped forward, and her hands lit with a golden-yellow glow, illuminating her features.
"Who are you?" Odin demanded, raising Mjolnir.
The woman's voice rang out. "My name is Fan Fei. I have come seeking help."
Max blinked. Oh… okay. Iron Fist is here… Cool.