Sorcerer in the Marvel Universe

"To be honest," Mephisto said with complete sincerity, "I don’t think very highly of humans."

Evenson scratched his cheek.

You really didn’t need to say that so earnestly.

Still, Mephisto wasn’t wrong.

As far as demons were concerned, humans were weak creatures with fragile bodies, brief lifespans, and mediocre magical talent. In the Twisting Nether, countless demons would sum humanity up with a single insult.

Mortal.

Or, on particularly bad days:

Pathetic little creature.

"That said," Mephisto continued, "I have to acknowledge that the Sorcerer Supreme is extraordinary."

His expression grew thoughtful.

"She’s only human, yet she built an entire magical tradition through her own research and understanding. Many Devils and demons far older than she is have never accomplished anything remotely comparable."

He shook his head in genuine admiration.

"Frankly, she’s talented enough that it’s difficult to believe she’s human."

Then he smiled.

"But..."

"She’s still young."

Young.

Coming from a being older than recorded civilization, calling someone five centuries old "young" sounded almost reasonable.

"The system she created is impressive," Mephisto said, "but it isn’t perfect."

"For example... the surveillance network you mentioned."

He casually tapped the crystal skull atop his cane.

"It was largely completed around three hundred years ago. Its detection capabilities rely entirely on the world’s magical nexus points."

There was unmistakable appreciation in his voice.

"A brilliant design."

"Every magical node, no matter how small, becomes another eye. In theory, it allows the Sorcerer Supreme to watch nearly every corner of the world."

"I understand how good it is," Evenson interrupted. "What I want to know is how you get around it."

Mephisto chuckled.

"I’ve existed longer than human civilization itself."

"When your ancestors were still living in caves, I was already walking this world."

"I know these magical nexus points better than anyone."

"Their locations."

"Their cycles."

"Their fluctuations."

"The reach of their influence."

"I understand them far better than the Sorcerer Supreme ever could."

Evenson considered that carefully.

"So you mapped the system’s blind spots."

"You studied the network until you found the gaps... then developed a method to slip through them."

"Exactly."

Mephisto nodded without hesitation.

"It wasn’t particularly difficult."

"Teach me."

Evenson didn’t bother pretending otherwise.

The concealment spell recorded in his Warlock’s Grimoire was universal. It worked reasonably well in almost any world, which made it invaluable for dimensional travel.

But universal solutions were rarely optimal.

A concealment method designed specifically to fool Kamar-Taj’s surveillance network would be vastly more effective.

Mephisto merely smiled.

Seeing that expression, Evenson sighed.

"Right. I’m getting ahead of myself."

"What price?"

"But let’s make one thing clear."

"If the answer is my soul, negotiations are over."

As useful as the technique would be, no magical trick was worth eternal servitude.

"Relax."

Mephisto waved the concern away.

"Nothing that dramatic."

"I simply need you to do something for me."

Evenson folded his arms.

"What?"

Mephisto suddenly looked like an exhausted father forced to discuss his disappointing son.

"It’s rather embarrassing."

"My wayward child escaped from Hell and fled to Earth."

"Your son?"

Evenson frowned.

His eyes drifted briefly toward the unconscious Johnny Blaze before he searched his memory.

"...Blackheart?"

"Precisely."

Mephisto sighed.

"Young people often have unrealistic ambitions. That’s hardly unusual."

"We’ve all been young."

"The problem begins when they decide to act on those ambitions."

"Such as overthrowing you?" Evenson guessed.

He couldn’t remember every detail from the movie, but one thing stood out clearly.

Blackheart hadn’t come to Earth for sightseeing.

He’d come to challenge his father.

Apparently Hell suffered from succession disputes just like everywhere else.

Mephisto’s smile disappeared for an instant.

A glimpse of something ancient and monstrous flashed across his face before it vanished again.

"He’s nowhere near ready."

"After arriving on Earth, he gathered several followers and began searching for the Contract of San Venganza."

Mephisto shot Johnny an irritated look.

"My original plan was simple."

"My Rider would retrieve the contract and eliminate Blackheart."

"He managed to destroy Gressil and Wallow..."

"But then..."

He gestured toward Johnny’s battered body.

"...this happened."

Evenson pieced it together.

If he remembered correctly, Blackheart had recruited only three elemental demons.

Earth.

Wind.

Water.

Two were already dead.

The affair should have been nearly finished.

Instead, Johnny had crossed paths with Evenson, leaving Mephisto’s entire plan in ruins.

"He’ll need several days before he can transform again," Mephisto said, striking his cane against the ground with visible irritation.

"And even then, he won’t be at full strength."

"I don’t believe we have that kind of time."

His eyes fixed on Evenson.

"So once he’s able to become the Ghost Rider again..."

"I want you to assist him."

"Kill Blackheart."

"And recover the Contract of San Venganza."

Not capture.

Kill.

Apparently Mephisto had decided that his rebellious son had exhausted every last ounce of paternal patience.

"Otherwise," Mephisto warned, his voice growing colder, "Blackheart will transform this world into a living Hell."

Evenson didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he began counting on his fingers.

"Recover the contract."

"Kill Blackheart."

He looked back up.

"Those are two separate jobs."

"One condition."

"One task."

"I’ll agree to recover the contract..."

"Or kill Blackheart."

"Not both."

"That’s fair."

Mephisto slowly rotated the cane planted against the ground.

His patience was visibly wearing thin.

"My goodwill has limits."

Evenson remained completely unfazed.

"You sure you want me involved with the Contract of San Venganza?"

Mephisto paused.

Then he leaned slightly to one side.

His gaze settled on the front of Evenson’s car.

His eyes narrowed.

After a moment, understanding dawned.

"...Clever."

He let out a quiet snort.

"Very well."

"My Rider will recover the contract."

"You only need to eliminate Blackheart."

Even as a projection, Mephisto’s perception remained terrifyingly sharp.

He had instantly recognized the secrets hidden within Evenson’s vehicle.

Entrusting the Contract of San Venganza, a relic containing a thousand damned souls, to a Warlock who specialized in manipulating souls...

...was asking for trouble.

"Assist the Ghost Rider."

"Kill Blackheart."

"In exchange..."

"I’ll teach you how to evade the Sorcerers’ Conclave’s surveillance."

Mephisto’s expression turned solemn.

"Do we have an agreement?"

Evenson met his gaze evenly.

"I’ll need to read the contract first."

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