Mephisto, the most cunning and powerful of Hell Lords, always projected an image of elegance and dignity, as if he were an impeccable gentleman. Anyone who dared humiliate him—even the Ghost Rider, who had betrayed him multiple times—was soon reminded of his capacity to restore his reputation.
But now, seeing Malrick, Mephisto could not help recalling the recent battle with Infinite Ultron, a conflict that had shaken hundreds of millions of Universes. If it continued unchecked, it could endanger the entire Multiverse. Normally, Mephisto maintained a respectful distance from such formidable opponents, and the urge to flee rose within him. Yet retreat was impossible—Hell itself would be left vulnerable.
He fixed his gaze on Malrick, speaking in a blustering tone. "Sorcerer Supreme, what gives you the audacity to violate Kamar-Taj's duty of protecting Earth and invade Hell? This is a betrayal of Vishanti!"
Years of scheming made Mephisto adept at manipulating human nature. Without realizing it, his words had slid smoothly into a threat. "If you don't want Vishanti to know your actions, and wish to retain the support of the White Magic faction, you'd best take your forces and leave now."
Malrick had intended to greet Dark Strange and Jarvis first, but immediately turned his gaze to Mephisto. "Are you saying you intend to report me to Vishanti?"
Malrick frowned. The statement seemed insane. Mephisto himself felt a pang of unease. The three obstinate members of Vishanti had always sought to punish demons. With the Sorcerer Supreme leading Kamar-Taj's assault, any objection from them would be inevitable. What could Mephisto hope to gain by complaining?
He hesitated, then shifted to persuasion. "Of course, I was only joking. Sorcerer Supreme, remember our contract. You may borrow my power; we are natural allies." He paused, watching Malrick closely. Reading expressions and intentions was essential when tempting human souls. Seeing no objection, Mephisto continued.
"Whatever your reasons for attacking Hell, you have them. But why should mine concern you? As your ally, I can fight alongside you. Together, we could conquer the Hells of other demons!"
"The most fitting targets are undoubtedly the dimensions of Satanish and Dormammu. Satanish betrayed everyone and drew the ire of others—we could take advantage. Dormammu is distracted by conflict with his sister, vulnerable in his own realm. Would these not be better than my Hell, esteemed Sorcerer Supreme?"
Mephisto demonstrated his reputation as the cleverest of Hell Lords, bending, stretching, and attempting to sell out allies without hesitation. In a fantasy world, Malrick might have considered him too dangerous to leave alive. But in the Marvel Universe, the assessment was the same: Mephisto was petty, charming to your face, and sinister behind your back, biding his revenge patiently.
Malrick applauded lightly. "Good, well said, Mephisto. You know the Realm of Split as well as anyone."
"No, no, Sorcerer Supreme, without you, how could this opportunity even exist?" Mephisto forced a humble smile, believing he had persuaded Malrick. A flicker of relief passed through him, even as he secretly vowed to reclaim his dignity later.
But Malrick waved him off. "You misunderstand, Mephisto. I am not here to plunder Satanish or Dormammu. What I want are dimensions."
"Dimensions?" Mephisto's surprise was evident. He began to think Malrick was merely a strong, naive brute.
"Perhaps you don't understand dimension lords. Once a dimension is occupied, it is almost impossible to seize. Taking Dormammu's or Satanish's dimensions is far harder than defeating Infinite Ultron."
"I see," Malrick nodded. "You are right. But I am not interested in those two unlucky lords' realms."
Mephisto's confusion deepened. "Then what do you intend, Your Excellency?"
"You, Satanish, Marduk… your dimensions," Malrick said, listing the dimension lords as if reciting a treasured ledger. Slowly, he closed the five fingers of his right hand. "I want them all."
Mephisto stared at him, speechless. He had never anticipated such a declaration.
"Sorcerer Supreme…" His eyes burned with disbelief and malice. Without hesitation, he turned and fled. As a Hell Lord, Mephisto held absolute control over Hell. Though weakened, every corner and energy field was still under his command. Determined to escape, he opened a spatial passage and prepared to vanish.