Illyana's chest heaved. Her fists trembled, her knuckles turning white beneath the dark, scabbed armor coating her skin. She didn't feel an ounce of regret. She only felt a blinding, white-hot fury. The older, battle-hardened Magik was dead. Her mentor had thrown her lives away, and Belasco hadn't even blinked.
Just as Peter had mapped out, the Limbo survivors never expected to win. They didn't charge in out of fearless bravado; they simply had absolutely nothing left to lose. They just wanted to buy a single, bleeding second. Enough time for Peter to grab the uncorrupted X-Men and drag them back to Earth-616.
The older Magik had channeled the ruined Strange's magic into her blade, teleporting point-blank to strike the demon lord. A grand, desperate sacrifice.
It was completely useless.
Belasco stood entirely unharmed. He lazily brushed a speck of ash from his chest. "What a breathtaking display of utterly pointless dedication."
He stepped back, turning his attention to the half-demon Illyana. He smiled. "You should consider yourself lucky, Illyana. Their deaths weren't a total waste. Look at you. How beautiful! How powerful!"
He gestured to her new form. "You aren't like those other variants who tried to cling to their fragile 'purity' while Limbo slowly ate them. And you aren't like the ones who fell into despair and begged me for death. No, you are the first to voluntarily accept the conversion. You willingly let dark magic fill the emptiness in your soul—"
Illyana didn't scream. She ignited.
The black scabs covering her flesh violently split apart. Blood-red hellfire erupted from the fissures, superheating her skin into a molten, glowing obsidian. Her spine cracked and elongated, pushing her height well over six feet. She lunged. She drove a longsword, roaring with hellfire, directly into Belasco's sternum.
The demon lord smiled.
His physical form lost cohesion, collapsing into a puddle of thick, black blood that slithered across the floor. The hellfire sword snapped in half against the stone.
The blood pooled and reformed into Belasco a few yards away. "My sweet, naive child. I am Limbo. Did you honestly think you could burn me with my own fire? If you want to kill me, you really need to be a little more creative—"
Belasco turned smoothly, throwing up a hand. A crimson magical barrier flared to life just in time to catch a blistering ruby-quartz optic blast.
Scott Summers stepped out of the shadows, his visor glowing. The rest of the temporal-frozen X-Men fanned out behind him, wide awake and armed to the teeth.
Belasco widened his eyes in a mockery of shock. "When did you thaw them out? Spider-Man? Shouldn't you be busy fighting my horde?"
Spider-Man dropped from the ceiling, landing in a crouch. He didn't buy the bad acting for a second. "It wasn't exactly a masterclass in misdirection, Belasco. I just let Venom take the wheel on a decoy body. Gave me plenty of time to quietly crack the ice on the X-Men."
"Kurt, link up the survivors," Cyclops barked, never taking his eyes off the demon.
Nightcrawler vanished in a cloud of purple brimstone.
Furious, Illyana grabbed the broken hilt of her sword and lunged again. Belasco caught her wrist effortlessly and tossed her backward like a ragdoll. She slammed into the ground right at the X-Men's feet. Belasco straightened his cuffs, privately wondering if his feigned surprise was a little too theatrical. Whatever. Commit to the bit.
Nightcrawler BAMFed rapidly across the battlefield, grabbing the demonic Shadowcat, the vampire Blade, and the ruined Strange. The Venom symbiote peeled off a twitching demon corpse and slithered back onto Spider-Man, melting seamlessly into the suit.
Peter ripped open a glowing spatial rift. "Everyone, move! Through the door, right now!"
Illyana pushed herself up. She looked at the X-Men. They were staring at her molten, horned form with poorly concealed terror. She gritted her teeth, exhaled a shaky breath, and forced the dark magic back down. The horns receded. Her skin cooled to pale human flesh.
The depressed Strange and the demonic Storm variant planted their feet. "We will hold the line—" Strange began.
Thwip. Thwip. Peter didn't even let them finish. He shot two thick web-lines, plastered them to the martyrs' backs, and violently yanked both of them backward through the spatial rift. Peter dove in right after them. The portal snapped shut.
Alone in his throne room, Belasco picked up the Bloodstone Amulet. He threw his head back and laughed. "Heroes. It's almost pathetic how predictable they are. He couldn't leave a single stray dog behind. And in doing so, he just handed me the front door to Earth-616."
Peter hit the dirt rolling on the other side. He sprang to his feet, gesturing wildly. "Defensive formation! Watch your six! Balasco is waiting for exactly this moment. He can rip through that residual rift any second—"
"Full marks for observation, Spider-Man. Zero for creativity."
The voice didn't come from the air. It came from the demonic Storm.
The Limbo survivor began to violently convulse. Her jaw unhinged with a sickening crack. Two massive, clawed hands shoved their way out of her throat. They grabbed the edges of her mouth and ripped outward. Storm was torn cleanly in half as Belasco stepped out of her ruined corpse, dripping with blood.
"Thank you, Spider-Man!" Belasco roared, raising his arms. "Thank you for opening the door! Now, I claim the supreme dimension!"
He held the Bloodstone Amulet high, waiting for Chthon's arrival.
Nothing happened.
Peter crossed his arms, leaning casually against a chunk of rubble. "Yeah, see, there's a minor flaw in your monologue. I never actually said we were going back to my earth."
The air behind Peter fractured. Golden, sparking Sling Ring portals tore open across the barren landscape. They didn't stop opening.
The 616 Avengers stepped through. Then the Fantastic Four. The Defenders. The Thunderbolts. The New Mutants. The Hellion. Ororo Munroe strode through another portal, her eyes glowing white with atmospheric power. Beside her marched an army of Sunset Avengers from the Wastelands.
"I just needed a pit stop," Peter said, his voice carrying over the hum of the portals. "A dimension where time moves a little slower. Giving my guy enough time to do the math and open the real doors."
The golden sparks coalesced into a final, massive gateway. Earth-616's Sorcerer Supreme, Stephen Strange, hovered through the threshold, his Cloak of Levitation snapping sharply in the wind.
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