The moment the Gates of Hell yawned open, countless ancient forces across Earth felt the tremor ripple through the arcane and spiritual realms. Their expressions turned grim; some, with volatile tempers, flew into outright rage.
"That thick stench of hellfire... Are the infernal demons attempting another large-scale invasion of Earth?"
"They've lost their minds! We have the Sorcerer Supreme, we have superheroes, an army of mutants, K'un-Lun and Atlantis. And let's not forget Martin, who defeated Odin himself, and his endless legions of steel! If Hell's creatures want to die so badly, then let them come!"
Several leaders bared vicious, cruel smiles.
In this age, Earth stood at an unprecedented peak of power. Among its defenders were not one, but two Skyfather-class beings, Martin and the Sorcerer Supreme. Factor in Black Bolt on the moon, and the number rose to three, equivalent to three arch-devils of Hell in sheer might.
And that's without even counting Surtur, whose colossal presence many still didn't comprehend. Most speculated that the fire giant must be sub-Skyfather level; if he were Skyfather-tier, there's no way he'd bow to Martin.
Many factions began to mobilize, preparing for war.
But the next reports they received left them dumbstruck.
"What?! Martin, a Skyfather, is sending his army into Hell? Is he insane?!"
"There were sightings of Ghost Rider tearing across the ocean on his bike, landing on the African continent... Looks like Martin's in direct conflict with Mephisto. There's even word he might've destroyed one of his avatars."
Some ancient leaders couldn't hide their schadenfreude.
That old fiend Mephisto had always sent worthless avatars to Earth, tricking mortals with cheap cons and illusory bargains. He never went too far, so the Sorcerer Supreme typically tolerated him; she couldn't exactly march into Hell and deal with him directly.
Cold-blooded? Perhaps. But when tens of thousands of people die daily from accidents and misfortune, Mephisto duping a handful of souls isn't even a blip on the radar.
But now? What were they witnessing?
Martin, the newly risen Skyfather of Earth, had opened the Gates of Hell and stormed in with his entire army.
For the first time in history, humanity had taken the offensive against Hell.
"Keep preparing for war. He's young. He doesn't understand the horror of Hell. That realm exists outside the multiverse. If he's defeated down there, the demons may pour through the gate and invade Earth. We need to be ready."
Atop the peaks of K'un-Lun, Tuan (Yu-Ti), clasped his hands behind his back, gazing into the distance with a low murmur.
"Postpone the hunt for the Hand. Those five traitors didn't just betray K'un-Lun, they stole the power of the Shenlong and gained supernatural abilities and immortality. That debt will be settled... but later."
The ancient factions stirred, rapidly shifting into high alert.
Even the Sorcerer Supreme, high atop the Roof of the World, wore a rare look of solemnity. Her gaze pierced the stars, brows tightening ever so slightly.
Mordo snapped:
"He's being reckless! Hell isn't meant for mortals. Attacking it will only bring catastrophe to Earth! He could drag all Nine Realms into a war with Hell!"
The Ancient One responded coolly:
"No one thought he'd survive his battle with Odin, let alone defeat him."
Mordo fell silent.
"Just watch. As long as I'm here, Earth will not fall."
Her voice was calm. Absolute.
A jest? Hardly.
Unless a Multiversal-class god descended upon this insignificant speck of a planet, she would stop any threat. That was the unshakable dominance of the Sorcerer Supreme.
Across the globe, ancient powers entered emergency war-readiness.
...
Hell.
Mephisto sat on his throne of fire and bone, his skin glowing like magma, blood-red and cracked. His expression was icy, eyes glittering with fury as he toyed with a soul, plucked from some unsuspecting universe, with casual malice.
It was merely his way of keeping his festering irritation in check.
"My Ghost Rider… taken out by Surtur like that? Losing such a loyal servant, unacceptable."
The mere thought of Martin stirred dark malice within him. And something cruel.
"So he destroyed one of my avatars. Big deal. Mortals always think that means something. What's he going to do, invade Hell itself?"
Mephisto scoffed, laughter echoing through the brimstone halls, dripping with contempt. The arrogance of humanity never ceased to amuse him.
Then—
BOOM!
A thunderous shockwave shattered the air.
Mephisto's brow furrowed. Above him, a rift tore open in the sky like a wound.
"Which damned fool of a demon is here to challenge me now?" he growled.
He was used to this. Hell was a realm of endless treachery and bloodshed.
But the next moment brought him to a standstill.
From the rift poured machines, wave after wave of towering robots, raining fire in every direction. They opened fire the moment they landed, annihilating everything in sight, purging the landscape in a storm of metal and flame.
Then a cold voice rang out.
"Mephisto! I've come to invade you. Take pride in this moment, because your corpse will be the pedestal that lifts my throne!"
Martin stepped through the portal, his face emotionless, his voice like steel.
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