Dragon battles in the wild, its blood dark and yellow.
Phoenix guards the abyss, its feathers blazing bright.
The instant the Black Phoenix's shadow spread its wings over Hell, Hawk's own underworld projection rose from his small cosmos, merging seamlessly with the fiery avatar.
At the same time, wrapped in crimson-black flame, a crystal-metallic armor—Black Phoenix Surplice—manifested.
Mephisto froze in shock.
Then, snarling, he lunged forward, fist blazing.
"Give me your soul!"
Boom!
Hawk didn't move.
But just before the blow could land, the phoenix's wings beat once, fusing into Hawk's body. A wave of unstoppable power exploded outward, blasting Mephisto off his feet.
The demon king scrambled upright, only to hear Hawk scoff.
"Idiot."
Didn't he know the rule of transformation invincibility?
Everyone knew—in every story, when a warrior transformed, no matter how long the animation, no matter how strong or weak the result, the character was untouchable during that window. Even if Earth itself blew apart, a transforming fighter could not be harmed.
It was the code of battle.
As Hawk finished his jab, the armor broke into flaming shards, each piece snapping into place.
Claws. Greaves. Bracers.
Each dark crystal plate flared as it locked onto him, black gemlight gleaming in fire.
Finally, the helmet descended. Two blazing wings of armor flared at the sides, a mask sealing over his face, leaving only eyes burning half-crimson, half-gold, with the power of the underworld swirling inside.
Last of all, a tail-feather waistguard locked into place.
Boom!
A pair of colossal, energy-forged wings erupted from Hawk's back. Black flames surged outward in all directions, quaking the realm of Hell itself.
Mephisto's face twisted.
"An underworld…"
"Surprise!"
Hawk, clad in Black Phoenix Surplice, spread his hands mockingly.
"You gave me Ghost Rider as your gift. Consider this mine to you. Funny thing—yours didn't surprise me. But mine? Tell me, Mephisto, don't you feel it?"
Mephisto's body trembled. His voice rasped.
"Good… very good. You hold the Reality Stone. And… the Time Stone! The Ancient One—!"
Now he understood. Hawk hadn't sold his soul to any dimension. He had built his own underworld, binding it with Blackheart's fragment of the Law of Life and Death and the Four Primal Elements.
A realm. Higher than a mere dimension.
Impossible. Unless one held the Aether. Even then, not in days.
Unless… the Time Stone.
The lingering aura of time's power clung to Hawk's projection.
Mephisto hissed.
"How did you convince the Ancient One to lend it to you?"
Hawk shrugged.
"You won't believe me. I just asked. Said I needed it. She gave it to me. Honestly? Easier to deal with than you."
It was the truth.
Mephisto stared, dumbstruck. The bald ascetic sorcerer he despised—"easy to deal with"? That same woman had trapped him countless times in temporal binds.
But he composed himself again, his smile cold.
"You think this makes you my equal? You forget—this is my Hell. Odin himself and even the Soul of Eternity were helpless here. And your sister is still mine. One thought, and I burn her soul."
Behind the mask, Hawk's eyes gleamed, fierce yet steady.
"Return my sister's soul, and I leave. I want nothing of you, or your Hell."
He truly didn't care. He had far too much to do. If Mephisto hadn't meddled, Hawk wouldn't even have bothered to forge an underworld yet.
Instead, he'd been planning to negotiate with Thor for several tons of uru metal for forging Gold Cloths.
But Mephisto had forced his hand.
So fine—if the devil released Anya, Hawk would even thank him.
But Mephisto bared his teeth.
"Never! You killed my son. I'll kill your sister!"
Hawk chuckled.
"Strange. You just thanked me for killing him."
"I lied. Devils cannot be trusted!"
"Fair enough."
Hawk flipped his hand, producing the Contract of San Venganza, heavy with the sealed souls of a thousand fallen saints. He weighed it casually.
"Let's trade. Her soul for this."
Mephisto's eyes gleamed.
"Give it here first. Then I'll release her."
"Hah." Hawk sneered.
"You just admitted devils can't be trusted. Why would I hand it over?"
Snarling, Mephisto spread his claws.
"Believe me or not, give me the contract—or I'll burn her soul now!"
His talons flashed, and in an instant, Anya appeared at his side, snatched from her prison.
Clad in white, she blinked. Her eyes locked with Hawk's burning gaze through the mask. She knew at once.
"Brother!"
"Anya."
His fierce eyes softened instantly.
She tried to run to him, but Mephisto froze her in place. His grip pressed against her head, triumphant.
"The Contract! Now!"
Hawk's eyes hardened again.
"Last chance. Release her first. Then the contract."
Mephisto sneered. His claws dug against Anya's skull.
"I'll say it again. Contract. Or she burns."
Hawk unlatched his mask, revealing his face to his sister. He smiled gently.
"Do you trust me?"
"Of course. My brother is the best in the world."
"Good."
His smile turned cold as he looked back at Mephisto.
"Do it, then."
The demon blinked.
"What?"
"Do it!" Hawk's voice was ice.
"Burn her, if you dare. The instant you do, I tear this contract to shreds and contest you for every soul of Earth. And I promise—from that day forward, I'll do nothing else. I'll dedicate every moment to hounding you. No new souls will enter Hell. No demon will leave it. I won't kill you—I'll leave you here, starving in your empty pit, until your realm withers and dies."
Mephisto: "…"
…
(End of Chapter)
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