The northern island stretched gray and empty under the evening sky. Wind rushed over the cliffs, carrying the tang of salt and the cry of distant gulls.
Ariadne sat on a weathered boulder, watching her breath cloud and vanish into the cold.
She needed this. Needed a break from the constant edge she lived on. The raids that grew deadlier each week, the narrow escapes that left her shaking long after the fight was over.
Hayes Manor was safe, but safety had a way of feeling stifling. Her days there meant Winky's constant company and Arthur, always buried in one task or another.
The island was different. Remote, quiet, hers alone.
Winky had brought her here as she always did, then slipped away to leave her with the solitude she craved.
"The wind bites hard up here, doesn't it?"
Her eyes snapped open. A man sat on the rock beside her. She hadn't heard him approach, hadn't felt the air shift. That should have been impossible.
He looked as if he had stepped straight out of a Fortune 500 boardroom: a perfectly tailored suit despite the wind, not a hair out of place. His smile belonged on magazine covers, warm and inviting.
But his eyes were different. They belonged in nightmares.
"Five feet," Ariadne said without moving. "That's your safe distance. Cross it and I start cutting."
The smile widened with genuine delight. "Straight to threats! How refreshing. Most people do small talk first."
"Most people are idiots." Her hand rested on her knife. "You've got ten seconds to explain who you are and what you want."
"Ten whole seconds? Such generosity." He crossed his legs casually, as if they were having tea instead of sitting on a frozen cliff. "I'm Mephisto. Think of me as… a problem solver."
"I don't have problems."
"No?" His eyebrows rose with theatrical surprise. "The Hand grows stronger daily. Your raids fail more often than succeed. That delightful elf saves you from death weekly. But sure, no problems at all."
Ariadne's expression didn't change. "Watching me, are you? That's not creepy at all."
"I watch everyone interesting. And you, my dear, are fascinating." He pulled out a silver cigarette case, the metal gleaming despite no visible light source. "Mind if I smoke?"
"Yes."
He lit one anyway. The flame appeared from nowhere. "You're fighting a war you can't win. Admirable, but futile."
"Says the stalker in the suit."
Mephisto laughed - a sound like crystal chimes and breaking bones. "I do like you. Such fire. No wonder Hayes keeps you around."
"Arthur has nothing to do with this."
"Doesn't he?" Smoke from his cigarette formed impossible shapes — screaming faces, reaching hands. "Your wizard friend, so powerful, so capable. Yet he watches you hurl yourself at the Hand like waves against stone. Curious, isn't it?"
"He has his reasons."
"Oh, I'm sure he's given you excellent excuses." Mephisto's tone stayed cheerful, conversational. "The Covenant, international incidents, chaos — all very logical. Very convenient."
"Get to the point or get lost."
"The point, darling, is that you're being used. A fascinating experiment for a bored wizard." He leaned in conspiratorially. "How long can the brave little warrior last against impossible odds? How many times will she almost die before she breaks? Such thrilling entertainment."
"No — they are not like that. Arthur and Winky have their reasons for not helping me. And anyway I want to do this on my own." Ariadne's voice was flat, fixed.
"Excuses. Excuses you use to appease your uneasy mind. The wizard has no qualms when he does what he wants. You should know how he handled organisations before. He did not worry about officials or governments coming after him. But when it's your turn, he has all these worries. Face it. You're just a puppet for him. Some experiment."
Ariadne drew her knife from its sheath in one smooth motion. "Last warning. Leave."
"With pleasure. Right after I make you an offer."
"Not interested."
"You haven't heard it yet." He held up a finger, and her knife hand froze mid-throw. Not stopped - frozen, as if time had paused for just that limb. "Power. Real power. The strength to end the Hand entirely. Not just Europe - globally. The five heads, every operative, every corrupted official. Gone."
Despite herself, Ariadne listened. Her arm remained frozen, knife hanging impossibly in mid-air.
"Imagine it," Mephisto continued, his voice warm as summer wine. "Walking into their strongholds untouchable. Bullets bouncing off your skin. Moving faster than thought. Healing from any wound in seconds." He released her arm; the knife completed its arc and embedded in the rock where he'd been sitting.
He was already standing three feet away, brushing imaginary dust from his suit.
"Cheap tricks," Ariadne said, though her voice had lost some edge.
"Everything I do is expensive, actually." He examined his manicured nails. "The question is whether you can afford to refuse. How many more times will the elf save you? Twenty? Thirty? Eventually, she'll be a heartbeat too slow."
"Then I die. There are worse things."
"True. Like living as someone's pet project."
"Shut up."
"The truth stings, doesn't it?"
"You talk too much for someone trying to make a sale." Ariadne's voice could have frozen hellfire.
Mephisto chuckled. "Fair point. Let me be direct then. Look at yourself honestly. A lot of progress, yes, but where does it lead? The Hand has five fingers, each capable of crushing you like glass."
"The me from last year couldn't have lasted thirty seconds against their lieutenants. Now I kill them."
"Lieutenants. Footsoldiers. Cannon fodder." He blew a smoke ring that formed into a screaming face before dissipating. "But the real power? The fingers themselves? You're still an insect to them, and you always will be."
"So what's your solution? Turn me into a demon?"
"Transform you? Oh no, that's so pedestrian." Mephisto's cigarette vanished between his fingers. "I don't make monsters, darling. I make winners. Same body, same mind, just... enhanced."
"For what price?"
"You really are delightfully paranoid." He studied his perfect nails. "What I want in return is so minor you'd barely notice it happening."
"My soul." Not a question.
"Such an ugly assumption. What would I even do with your soul? Mount it on my wall? Use it as a paperweight?" His laugh was warm honey over broken glass. "Souls are medieval. These days I prefer more... nuanced arrangements."
"If something sounds too good to be true—"
"Like a teenage wizard taking you in, training you, giving you resources worth millions?" Mephisto's smile sharpened. "That didn't seem too good to be true?"
"That's different."
"How?"
"Because with Arthur, I can see the catch. He's using me to handle a problem he has no time to solve or manage. It's honest manipulation."
"And I'm not being honest?"
"You're being sales-pitch honest. Different animal entirely."
Mephisto laughed with genuine delight. "Oh, I really do like you. Such clarity of thought. Yes, there's always a catch. With me, you achieve your life's goal but owe me a favor later. With him, you'll die trying while he watches from his comfortable chair."
"I still prefer the chair."
"Even knowing you'll never succeed? The Hand isn't a street gang. They're ancient, vast, with resources you can't imagine." He leaned forward, voice low and intimate. "In your present human form, with human limits, you will fail. That's not pessimism. That's a fact."
Ariadne was quiet for a moment. When she spoke, her voice was steady as stone. "Then I fail. But I fail as myself."
"How wonderfully noble. How perfectly stupid." Mephisto straightened, brushing invisible lint from his suit. "Do you know how rare my personal attention is? Emperors have begged for what I'm offering you freely."
"Find another emperor."
"I'm offering it to you. Because you have potential. Because you're already walking a dark path. Why not have the power to reach its end?"
"Because I know exactly what you are." She stood slowly, hand back on her knife. "You're not offering help. You're offering addiction with delayed withdrawal."
"All power is addiction, darling."
"No. Power is a tool. You're selling dependency."
The pleasant mask finally slipped completely. The temperature plummeted another twenty degrees. Ice formed on the rocks around them.
"You know," Mephisto's voice had gone flat and cold, "I made this exact offer to Arthur Hayes. He was equally rude. Though at least he had the Sorcerer Yao standing behind him."
"Good for him."
"He's not as strong as you think. Without his protector, he's just another wizard with delusions of grandeur." The devil's form rippled at the edges. "Weak. Mortal. Breakable."
"If you're trying to make me doubt him, you're wasting your time. I know exactly what Arthur is."
"Do you? Because from where I stand, you're both playing games you can't win. Him with his delusions of winning against cosmic forces. And you with a similar delusion of winning against the Hand. Both too proud to accept help that would guarantee victory."
"The difference is, I know I'm playing a losing game. I choose to play anyway."
"Why?"
"Because someone has to."
"How beautifully pointless." Mephisto stepped closer, reality bending around him like heat shimmer. "Last chance. Take my offer, or—"
"Or what?" Ariadne's knife was in her hand now. "You'll force me? If you could do that, we wouldn't be talking."
The mask cracked completely. For one horrible instant, she saw what lay beneath—something vast and burning and older than human comprehension. Her knife hand trembled despite her will.
"Clever girl. But being right won't save you from what's coming." He raised his hand toward her forehead. "I have other ways to—"
The voice cut through the freezing air like a blade.
Arthur stood ten feet away, hands buried in his pockets, posture loose, eyes sharp. He looked maddeningly calm in the face of a Hell Lord, as if this were nothing more than an evening stroll.
Relief surged through Ariadne so sharply it almost hurt. He was here. He'd come for her. He always did.
Every person under Arthur's care carried monitoring charms — charms that pulsed when they were near lethal danger or beings of extraordinary power. When Arthur had been on Hala, one of those charms had flared, warning him that Ariadne was in the presence of something ancient and deadly. He hadn't hesitated. He had come instantly.
Mephisto's hand paused. Slowly, the devil turned. "Mr. Hayes. What a pleasant surprise."
"Mephisto. Still making house calls?"
"One must stay busy." He straightened his tie; his smile was thin as a blade. "I didn't expect you to walk in so boldly. Is Yao lurking nearby, ready to pull you out when things go badly?"
"Don't need her."
The devil's laugh cracked like glass. "Really? Have you forgotten our last encounter? You barely escaped — and that was with her intervention."
"That was months ago," Arthur said evenly. "And I'd just finished a battle. I'm at full strength now. Much stronger."
"Not that much stronger." Mephisto flicked a hand, and Ariadne gasped - still frozen, but now struggling against invisible bonds. "For instance, not strong enough to stop your friend from accepting my generous offer."
"Let her go."
"Or what? You'll throw a few spells? Make some sparkling circles?"
Arthur's face didn't change. "Ariadne, close your eyes. Everything will be fine in a minute."
Mephisto chuckled darkly. "You cannot save her from me alone."
"Who said I was alone?" Arthur replied.
A golden circle shimmered open near Ariadne.
Mephisto's eyes narrowed. "You said Yao was not nearby. Learning to lie, are we?"
But instead of the Ancient One, a hand shot through the portal, yanking Ariadne inside. A moment later, the culprit, a second Arthur stepped out. The two Arthur's were identical down to their stance and smirks.
Mephisto's gaze sharpened. "Illusion?"
"Clone," both Arthurs said at once.
This was the fruit of Arthur's past three months of work. A true magical clone - half soulcraft, half mystic duplication. Still flawed: he could only control one body at a time, meaning it was useless for real multitasking. But for misdirection like this, it was perfect.
Mephisto's smile thinned. "You exceed my expectations again and again, Arthur Hayes. Today, you will be mine - even if Yao herself intervenes."
The clone walked over, touched the original, and dissolved into golden light that sank into Arthur's body.
Arthur rolled his shoulders; power crackled along his hands. "I'll exceed your expectations even more."
Mephisto blinked. "You're actually planning to fight me? Alone?"
"Why not? You're just a salesman devil with delusions of grandeur."
The insult landed. Mephisto's human mask cracked, fire leaking through the fractures. "Salesman?"
Arthur's smirk sharpened. "What else do you call someone peddling powers for favors? You're not a lord. You're not a god. You're a salesman-bureaucrat, Mephisto."
The park bench melted. Trees blackened and smoldered. Reality itself twisted from Mephisto's rage.
"You dare—"
"I dare a lot of things these days." Arthur's hands glowed with golden light, ready for battle.
Twenty feet apart, devil and wizard squared off as the world burned around them.
The fight was about to begin.