"Super."
In a house in Queens, Aron, who had just returned from Hawkeye's house, sprawled on the sofa.
He was enjoying the shoulder massage being given to him by Wanda Maximoff, the Scarlet Witch.
"Mr. Aron, that dish you mentioned… spicy minced chicken, was it tasty?" Wanda asked, leaning toward him slightly.
"It's okay," Aron replied lazily, head leaning back.
Wanda's slender fingers immediately moved to his hair, gently massaging his scalp.
He thought of Malekith.
Of the Dark Elves.
He remembered everything that had happened during the second half of the banquet at Hawkeye's house.
He felt a strange unease.
Everyone had finally finished with Ultron's chaos, eaten hot pot, and sang, and then came an unwanted spoiler.
The ending could already be guessed…
In any case, Aron didn't have the courage to tell Wanda all the details. He was certain she wouldn't be able to eat for three days if she knew Malekith's fate.
The crisis with Ultron was over.
The Dark Elves were also a thing of the past.
With half-closed eyes, Aron thought that he could finally return to a carefree life.
"Wait… how long has it been since I last…?"
He wasn't sure.
"Could Coulson have become king behind my back in the meantime?" he muttered under his breath, stretching his hand to grab his phone.
However… the phone felt unusually soft.
"Mr. Aron…" Wanda's soft, somewhat shy voice interrupted his thought.
Aron immediately realized something was wrong. He looked back, the phone was still on the charger behind the sofa, unmoving.
Instead, he saw Wanda sitting right behind him, her cheeks flushed all the way to her hairline.
"Oh… well…"
"I deliberately… let my guard down…" Aron tried to say something, but realized it sounded wrong.
Never mind. Wrong is wrong.
Looking at Wanda's gentle smile, softening as she leaned toward him, Aron abandoned any intention of getting out of the situation.
It wasn't long before the two of them left the living room together.
Neither of them noticed that the screen of the phone, still on the charger behind the sofa, suddenly lit up. A pop-up message from an online game appeared:
> Hello, Batman
Due to the discovery that you maliciously used plugin scripts together with your long-time teammate, known as "little bald baby", your account has been permanently banned.
If you have any objections, please visit the official website within three days to submit an appeal.
---
At the same time, while Aron was busy with Wanda, Thor's sister Hela had finished conquering Limbo.
She and the army of the undead under her command had razed every force of resistance in this dimension to the ground.
Within Limbo, several tall furnaces were working without pause, day and night.
The corpses of demons had piled into mountains, while recruited low-rank demons brought new bodies from all directions. There were so many that they had already begun building new furnaces.
"Lord Hela, please follow me. I have discovered a small group of rebels," said Nastir, moving alongside Hela.
"Get away from me. I feel sick when I see you," she replied coldly.
Hela was a warrior who despised traitors like Nastir. Although his help had allowed her army to quickly subdue the dimension, she still hated the horse-faced demon.
"I don't know why Dear One let you live, but don't even think that I consider you my ally."
Nastir didn't have the courage to oppose her. His horse face revealed helplessness.
What could he do? He was only nine hundred seventy years old and just wanted to survive.
Inside, he had tens of thousands of words he wanted to say, but in front of Hela, he stayed silent.
In silence, he slaughtered tens of millions of Hell's demons.
Then he retreated, came to the river of magma, and sighed toward the sky.
He remembered the moment when Aron had first summoned him, calling him the Great Demon of Hell and telling him: "I am your master, and now I urgently need your strength."
Recently, in front of everyone, he had knelt before Aron and said: "Master, I will always be loyal to you."
Aron had spared his life then.
"I am clever…" Nastir thought with a proud smile.
Who says obedience is bad?
He quickly forgot Hela's humiliations and cheerfully walked back.
Halfway there, a fiery-red figure suddenly appeared in front of him, back turned. It blocked his way.
"It seems you enjoy serving humanity?" the tone was icy.
"Who are you? And who are you calling a human? That's my great master!" Nastir replied, visibly agitated, shifting into battle form.
His claws lengthened.
The figure slowly turned around, as if amused.
"Little demon, perhaps you don't know me, but you must have heard my name. I am Mephisto."
The air froze for a moment.
Nastir stiffened, paws lowered, body unmoving.
"It's over… I'm dead now," he thought.
"Mephisto, this is not the place for you," Hela's voice rang out from the side.
Nastir had never thought Hela's voice could sound so good.
"Hela, if I'm not mistaken, this was Belasth's territory, wasn't it? You shouldn't be here either," Mephisto said, ignoring Nastir.
"Belasth is dead. There is now a new master here."
Hela's gaze was icy. She knew Mephisto had reached the power of a Heavenly Father level and was stronger than her, but in her eyes flickered a spark of anticipation.
Limbo had already been conquered, and she desperately needed a new challenge.
"Could it be…"
"Do you want to be Satan?"
Mephisto's words carried a hint of threat.
—
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