Yes.
Using Anya to control Hawk.
How likely was it?
Very.
From the moment Mephisto asked him to deal with Satannish, Hawk had been on guard.
He strongly suspected the story about Anya's soul being tainted by Helheim's aura was nothing more than Mephisto adding drama to manipulate him.
A demon's words should never be trusted—especially not the ruler of Hell's. Not even a punctuation mark.
As for that line about not risking offending a "future god" for the sake of one mortal soul?
Heh.
Empty talk.
Even if Hawk did one day become a true god, Mephisto had never feared anyone—not even Galactus.
Yes, the same Galactus who, if ever fully fed, would rival the other four cosmic entities of creation.
And Mephisto had dared to covet his soul.
So what was one not-quite-divine Hawk, who merely held the twin authorities of Immortality and Rebirth?
If Mephisto wasn't already scheming to devour him, Hawk would gladly cut off his own head and gift it to the devil as a chamber pot.
As for that claim about needing a body before reviving his sister?
Other Hell lords might be bound by such rules. But Mephisto—master of death itself—was lying through his teeth.
Once again: a demon's promise was worthless.
Therefore…
"Either Mephisto wants to use my sister as leverage against me… or he's trying to lure me to Texas, hoping to snatch my soul."
"Yikes!" Gwen gasped, chilled by Hawk's words. She frowned. "But if he couldn't take your soul face-to-face, what difference would Texas make?"
"Texas is the closest place to Hell's dimension," Hawk explained.
And…
It was also home to the Ghost Rider.
That pair of Penance Stare eyes—only God Himself knew if they'd work on him.
The image of Nicolas Cage's rugged face popped into Hawk's mind.
Gwen's worry deepened. "So what will you do?"
Hawk turned, smiling confidently into her eyes.
"Simple. I'll build my own underworld."
Every cosmos needed a realm of the dead.
He had intended to wait until reaching the Seventh Sense, when his microcosmos would bloom into a true Phoenix parallel universe. Right now, his cosmos was still barren, nowhere near that threshold.
But the emergence of Satannish and the Four Elementals had given him an idea.
The foundations of matter were Earth, Water, Wind, Fire—and Aether.
He already had Aether. That alone gave him the seed of a true universe.
And now, the Four Elementals stood before him as prey.
"If I can devour them…" Hawk's thoughts quickened. "Along with the Reality Stone… my cosmos will expand at an exponential rate! I could even establish my Phoenix Universe's underworld ahead of schedule."
And once he held the law of Life and Death itself, even the Eighth Sense would let him march into Hell unafraid.
Most importantly—
The Underworld Cloth.
It required none of the complicated resources other armors did.
"So," Hawk thought grimly, "Mephisto… you'd better not be plotting anything."
…
The next day, Hawk bought a ticket to Texas. He hugged Gwen, then boarded the flight.
He could have simply broken the atmosphere and flown. But he wanted one last test—to see if he truly had some mysterious condition that kept him from leaving New York by ordinary transport.
If something went wrong again, fine—he'd fly himself everywhere from then on.
He had just settled into his seat, gazing out the window, when a surprised voice spoke.
"Hawk?"
"…Sharon?"
He blinked at Agent Sharon Carter sliding into the seat beside him, looking equally astonished.
"You're—?"
"Texas. Vacation. You?"
"Texas," Hawk replied smoothly.
Sharon lowered her voice. "Why not just fly there? At your speed, you'd beat the plane easily."
He couldn't admit the truth. So he chuckled. "Holiday mood. Didn't want to trouble you again. Didn't expect to run into you, though."
Sharon blinked, then nodded. Yes, that made sense. If he had streaked across the sky, she probably would've been dispatched to knock on his door again the next day.
"Thanks," she said solemnly.
"No problem." Hawk smiled.
He asked why she was only now on break.
"My leave was approved before Christmas," she said evenly. "That day I came to pick up Carrie from your house? I went straight from the airport."
"…Oh."
Meeting her faintly reproachful gaze, Hawk sighed. "Alright. Sorry."
Her annoyance melted instantly. After all, she hadn't lost much—Carrie had been handed over under her watch, and Sharon had reaped the rewards: a promotion and ten extra days of vacation.
Worth it.
She smiled and updated him on Carrie's progress. The S.H.I.E.L.D. witch consultant had been delighted to take a Salem heir under her wing. Carrie was thriving.
"She even told me she wants to visit you and Gwen when she finishes her first stage of training."
"Of course she can."
Hawk felt genuinely pleased.
After all, the Hell Witch had entrusted Carrie to him. At the very least, he owed her a year's worth of after-sales care.
…
The plane took off without incident, climbing smoothly above the clouds en route to Texas. Hawk kept his senses spread wide until they crossed into Texas airspace, then finally relaxed.
Good.
If danger came, it wouldn't be midair.
Down below, maybe.
As he chatted with Sharon, something she said about a motorcycle stunt show caught his attention.
"What show?"
"This one." Sharon pulled a flyer from her bag and handed it over. "Johnny Blaze—his stunts are incredible. That's why I'm here."
Hawk glanced at the flyer.
Front and center was Nicolas Cage's unmistakable face.
Yes. Ghost Rider, without a doubt.
"Interesting," Hawk said, handing it back. "Maybe I'll watch too."
Sharon's eyes lit up. "Then you're here in Texas for…?"
Hawk smiled faintly.
But before he could answer, the plane jolted violently.
Screams rippled through the cabin.
Hawk tensed instantly, senses exploding outward, sweeping every corner for danger.
Sharon stiffened too—then relaxed when the turbulence smoothed out. She grinned. "Relax, Hawk. Just air currents. Happens all the time."
But Hawk's eyes gleamed as he remembered the strange energy ripple he had sensed outside the hull.
"Are you sure?" he asked softly.
"…"
(End of Chapter)
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