Hawk's tone was ice-cold.
Mephisto froze, wondering if having his horn broken had somehow damaged his hearing.
"I said, take your sister's soul and leave my Hell."
"And I said—that's not enough anymore."
Suspended in the air, Hawk locked eyes with him.
"I gave you two conditions already.
The first time, I told you—revive my sister, and you'll gain my friendship threefold. That was the best deal you'd ever get. But you refused.
The second time, I offered you the Contract of San Venganza, in exchange for my sister's soul. I told you I had no interest in your Hell. Again, you refused.
Now this is the third.
So—"
"Return my sister's soul. And know this: from this moment, your Hell will never touch any soul connected to me. Any soul who calls my name will enter my Underworld."
Hawk's gaze cut like a blade. "That is my new condition. Accept it or not, that's up to you. But the next time you try to stop me, I won't stop at taking only the souls tied to me."
As long as I don't bow to threats, no one can threaten me.
He was already prepared for Mephisto to destroy Anya's soul. That readiness made him terrifying.
Besides, even if her soul was destroyed—it wasn't unrecoverable. There was still the Soul Stone.
At worst, he'd track down the "family planning officer" himself—Thanos. He'd get the stone, trade Reality for it, then resurrect Anya properly.
Not the end of the world.
But since Mephisto wanted to talk now—fine. One last time.
Third chance, last chance.
Mephisto's face darkened, ink spilling from every line.
If he could go back, he swore he'd have accepted Hawk's very first offer at the tavern. Had he done so, he wouldn't be here now.
Fight on?
Sure, it was his turf. But if Hell was torn apart in the process, Hawk would just walk away—Mephisto would be the one left fixing it.
That was the trap Odin and Eternity had fallen into once before.
But Hawk had gone further: promising to spend eternity doing nothing but harassing him, starving Hell of souls, sealing demons inside.
That wasn't someone who could be blackmailed.
That was a hedgehog—spikes out, untouchable.
Still—
Mephisto's golden eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, any who call your name go to your Underworld? I'm letting your sister go, and you still want to steal Earth's souls?"
Hawk's voice never wavered. "You decide when war starts. I decide when it ends—and how. My terms are simple: my friends, my people—your Hell will have no claim. Accept or refuse, it's on you."
Truth was, if he actually cared about building up the Underworld, he'd have demanded far more. But he had no ambition to play Pluto.
Still, his anger wouldn't let it rest.
And he wanted to make sure Mephisto could never dangle his loved ones as leverage again.
The devil's face darkened further.
"And if I don't agree?"
"Then we fight."
The Contract of San Venganza appeared in Hawk's hand once more. "But three chances is the limit. After this, no more negotiations. It'll be to the death. Either you somehow kill me—or you watch Hell dry up, empty, until you wither and die."
Mephisto's expression shifted again and again, golden eyes locked onto Hawk's unwavering gaze.
Long silence.
"…Get out."
He finally turned away, burying his fury. "Take your sister. Get out of my Hell."
Hawk wouldn't yield.
So he had to.
Because he couldn't afford the gamble.
Hawk now had his own Underworld. His soul was beyond Mephisto's reach.
Hawk could burn everything down, because he had more than one path.
But Mephisto? He had only this one dimension.
So the devil seethed—but conceded.
"Leave. And never let me see you again."
"Heh."
Hawk exhaled quietly, relief hidden. He smirked. "As long as you don't come for me, I have no interest in you."
With that, the Black Phoenix Surplice shattered into fragments, swirling back to roost in his Underworld.
Feet on solid ground, Hawk smiled at the girl before him.
A smile bright and genuine—brighter than he'd worn since 2009.
Tears streaming, Anya stared at him.
"Hello, my brother. I knew you would come. Just like you promised."
She reached out, trembling, and when her hand touched his cheek, her sorrow broke into joy.
Hawk's own eyes softened. "Hello, my sister. I've come to take you home."
She remembered her death—the ruins, his desperate hands pulling her from rubble, his vow through his sobs that he would bring her back.
And now—he had.
She fell into his arms and wept. "Brother!"
"Come. Let's go home."
He kissed her brow gently, whispering, and tore open space like glass.
On the other side: sunlight, birdsong, eternal spring—the Pure Land of Bliss.
As he stepped through with her in his arms, he flung the Contract of San Venganza back.
Mephisto snatched it instantly, triumphant.
But Hawk was gone. The rift sealed shut.
And the moment Anya's soul set foot in the Underworld—Hawk smiled.
He had been wrong.
Mephisto truly never spoke a word of truth.
That talk of "needing a vessel to house a soul before revival"?
Bullshit.
If Mephisto willed it, he could resurrect anyone directly.
And Hawk too—had he possessed the complete Law of Life and Death. But his shard, torn from Uxymag, wasn't whole. Not yet.
So for now, he'd leave her in the Pure Land.
He explained gently.
Anya blinked, wide-eyed, dazed.
…This was "being wronged"?
Blue skies, green meadows, flowers, streams, the grand palace of the Underworld rising like a temple.
This was exactly what she once described, as a little girl in a hospital bed, telling her brother about the paradise she imagined after death.
Now it stood before her, one-to-one.
She turned, eyes brimming, to the brother who had built it for her.
"Brother… you must have suffered so much these years."
She was only fourteen when she died. But years in Hell had stripped away her innocence.
She knew what it meant to steal a soul from Mephisto. And her brother had done it—in just four years.
Four years ago, he was only a man.
Now—he had shattered Hell itself to bring her back.
Her tears welled again. "Brother… thank you."
"Don't say silly things."
He laughed softly, wiping her eyes, ruffling her hair like he used to. "You're not just anyone. You're my sister—you're my fam—"
He stopped short. Gwen flashed in his mind.
He arched a brow. "Actually… I've found you a sister-in-law. You'll like her."
Anya blinked, red-eyed, startled.
"…Sister-in-law?"
"…"
(End of Chapter)
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