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The sky was gray.
Ash drifted down endlessly, and the air was thick with the reek of sulfur.
This was Hell.
The moment the vortex swallowed the Ghost Rider's remains, his form came apart.
The Spirit of Vengeance tore free in a streak of light, shooting toward the only structure worthy of the name in this desolate dimension—Mephisto's palace.
Johnny Blaze, meanwhile, hit the ground face-first, slamming into dirt that was equal parts blood and ash.
Before he could even process where he was, a furious roar echoed from Mephisto's palace. It was a sound of rage and disappointment.
"HAWK!!"
THUD.
Johnny had just managed to push himself off the gore-soaked ground when his feet left the earth entirely.
His hands shot up instinctively, clawing at the scaled, clawed hand now wrapped around his throat. He stared up into the face of the demon holding him—and his pupils shrank to pinpricks.
Charred crimson skin.
Jagged, uneven fangs.
Nostrils that flared with embers.
Massive, twisted horns jutting from a grotesque skull.
Mephisto. Lord of the Hell Dimension.
"You..."
"Useless Creature."
Mephisto's voice was dripping with disdain. He didn't bother hiding his disgust as he glared at the pathetic soul dangling from his grip.
Then, without ceremony, he hurled Johnny aside like trash.
Johnny hit the ground hard, gasping, scrambling back to his feet. He looked up at Mephisto, disoriented, confused—still convinced he was on Earth, with no comprehension that he'd died and was now standing on his master's home turf.
"Hey, you lied to me! You said all he had to do was look into the Rider's eyes and he'd—"
SLAP!
Mephisto didn't let him finish. His massive hand lashed out, backhanding Johnny across the wasteland.
The demon's golden pupils flickered with barely restrained violence. Smoke and embers poured from his nostrils, as if the air itself might combust at any second.
Johnny staggered to his feet again, dazed, his mind reeling. He'd always known Mephisto as the suave, well-dressed gentleman.
This... this brutal, merciless creature—was something else entirely.
But more than that—
"It was your lie. So this isn't my fault. Where's my father?"
"You pathetic worm!"
Mephisto's golden eyes burned with cold contempt. "If you weren't so arrogant and stupid, you never would have given him an opening. As long as the Spirit of Vengeance stayed fused with you, his attacks were meaningless. But you… you were foolish enough to separate yourself from the Spirit!"
He didn't understand how Hawk had resisted the Penance Stare.
But he knew one thing for certain.
As long as Johnny had stayed merged with the Rider, even the Sorcerer Supreme herself could only have imprisoned him—not destroyed him.
The Ghost Rider was supposed to be invincible. Even in a battle of attrition against Hawk, the Rider would have eventually won.
This stupid, self-important insect had completely ignored his instructions. Not only had he failed the mission, but he still had the audacity to demand his father.
If Mephisto had ever thought Johnny was clever, that illusion was now shattered. He looked at him with nothing but loathing.
At that moment, Two Hell-spawn demons descended on leathery wings, landing at Mephisto's side.
He forced himself not to crush Johnny's soul on the spot. "Take this imbecile to the cages. I want him to spend the next ten thousand years experiencing the despair and agony of being separated from his father. Every. Single. Second."
The demons nodded. Without a word, they closed in on Johnny.
Johnny's face went white.
"No, you can't do this! You tricked me!"
"NO!"
"We had a contract, damn you! Give me my father!"
"No..."
The demons ignored his pleas. They grabbed him, their wings beating as they lifted off, carrying him away from the palace.
Johnny's desperate screams echoed across the wasteland, growing fainter and fainter until they disappeared entirely.
...
Mephisto stood alone, smoke still pouring from his nostrils. Only after Johnny was gone did he finally turn his attention to the memories the Spirit of Vengeance had brought back.
The next second, his massive demonic frame shuddered, and another roar, this one filled with a new, even more profound rage, tore from his throat.
"HAWK!!"
Mephisto's demonic eyes blazed as he absorbed the memory the Rider had witnessed outside the cemetery.
His son, Blackheart, was dead.
And… the fragment of the laws of life and death had been ripped from him.
Instantly, Mephisto understood. He knew why Hawk had been able to resist the Penance Stare, why he hadn't been dragged down to Hell.
Because Hawk's soul no longer belonged to Hell.
But—
'That's impossible. It's only been two days. Maybe not even that.'
Mephisto's mind raced, disbelief warring with cold logic. He focused on the memory, tracing the Rider's path to the volcano, sensing the lingering presence of the Elemental Demons.
Even if Hawk had absorbed the four Elemental Demons and his son's fragment of the laws, it was impossible for him to have created a new underworld dimension in just two days.
Rome wasn't built in a day.
And a dimension certainly wasn't.
More importantly, as the current Lord of Earth's afterlife, Mephisto would have felt it if a rival death-domain had tried to stake a claim. Any new dimension attempting to compete for human souls would trigger an immediate, instinctive alarm.
He'd felt nothing.
"Who did you sell your soul to?!"
Mephisto's eyes flared. He slowly raised his head, staring up at the dissipating Hell-vortex that had dragged Johnny down.
His son was dead.
His plan to claim Hawk's soul had failed.
But despite the rage burning in his chest, Mephisto wasn't afraid.
Why? Because he still held the ultimate trump card.
Hawk's sister.
Through his probing, Mephisto now understood exactly how important Anya was to Hawk. He was certain of one thing: Hawk would do anything for his sister. And right now, her soul was in his hands.
A cruel smile twisted Mephisto's demonic face.
"I own you," he whispered.
"Hawk."
...
Texas. The Canyon.
Back in the canyon, Hawk—who'd been using the laws of life and death to pinpoint Hell's coordinates from the dissipating vortex—opened his eyes. He glanced up and saw Sharon running toward him.
"What are you doing here?"
"The satellite showed you hadn't moved in over ten minutes. I was worried something had happened, so I came to check."
She swept her light across the canyon floor, carefully avoiding loose rocks that might twist an ankle.
Hawk listened to her explanation, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Weren't you worried that if something happened to me, you'd just be rushing to your own death?"
Sharon looked up at him, dead serious. "You're the guy who dragged Thor to Mars for a fight and came back without a scratch. If you're in trouble, my job is calling Commander Hill and telling her to get the Avengers back together."
Hawk let out a short laugh.
"I'm fine."
"Good."
Sharon smiled, then glanced around, curious. "So... where's Johnny Blaze?"
Hawk's gaze dropped to the ground, right where Sharon was standing.
Sharon followed his eyes and looked down.
A blood-red stump of a neck protruded from the dirt, still oozing.
Sharon processed what she was looking at in 0.01 seconds, sucked in a sharp breath, and instinctively stumbled backward.
Hawk watched her hop back like a startled rabbit, a faint smile on his lips.
"Relax. I didn't do that. He pulled his own head off."
"He... what?"
Sharon blinked, still rattled. Then she remembered the surveillance footage—Johnny Blaze transforming into a flaming skeleton. "Oh. Right."
She swept her flashlight around the canyon again.
"So where's the head?"
"There." Hawk pointed to a pile of fine white fragments scattered across the ground. "See those? That used to be his skull."
Sharon's light found the debris. It looked like something had been run through an industrial grinder.
She stared for a beat, then shrugged. "Well. Okay then."
Hawk raised an eyebrow. "You sound disappointed."
"I am."
"Oh?"
"Don't get me wrong—I'm not disappointed you're alive. I'm disappointed he's dead."
"..."
Hawk said nothing, just looked at her.
Sharon caught herself and clarified. "You know I came to Texas to see his stunt show, right? I had front-row tickets. This is just... frustrating."
Hawk smiled faintly.
Sharon quickly pulled herself together. "Since the fight's over, are you ready to go?"
Hawk shook his head.
"I've got one more stop to make."
"Where? I can drive you."
"Hell."
"..."
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