Sorcerer in the Marvel Universe

Honestly, there was nothing particularly strange about the naaru on Earth suddenly being summoned to join the Army of the Light in its war against the Burning Legion.

That war had been raging for a very long time.

The strange part was that the naaru had apparently taken Earth’s God along with it.

Even that wasn’t entirely difficult to understand. After spending several centuries alongside a professional cosmic evangelist like the naaru, some influence was bound to rub off. Saving countless worlds and living beings from the ultimate evil of the multiverse was exactly the sort of grand, righteous mission that could make even God hear the call and think, Why not?

And God was almost certainly powerful.

If he hadn’t been, then the moment the naaru arrived on Earth, the roles of God and angel should have been reversed.

So the naaru had every reason to be delighted about acquiring such a powerful ally.

Epic cosmic war required reliable teammates, after all.

If only it could have dragged Odin along too.

A tank, a healer, and a damage dealer.

Now that would have been a party.

But then Evenson’s expression changed.

A disturbing possibility had occurred to him.

Perhaps the naaru’s so-called plan to guide humanity hadn’t been as simple as teaching people to embrace the Light.

Once humanity had fully converted to the Light and enough people had mastered its power to become powerful Light warriors, Earth would have provided the Army of the Light with a massive reserve of fresh troops.

That might have been the real plan all along.

The only reason it had never happened was that the summons had arrived too early.

The naaru hadn’t had time to carry out the plan.

It had only managed to take God with it.

But wars ended.

That was the part that worried Evenson most.

According to the intelligence he’d obtained from Agatha recently, the Burning Legion’s invasion of Azeroth was going spectacularly badly.

The demon lords, apparently suffering from an incurable case of overconfidence, had completely ignored every sensible rule of warfare.

Don’t overextend.

Don’t charge blindly into an enemy’s territory.

And, most importantly, don’t underestimate a battlefield full of heavily armed adventurers and Azeroth’s greatest champions.

They had done exactly that.

One after another, the demon lords had thrown themselves into battle, gotten themselves killed, and effectively become free loot deliveries for Azeroth’s champions.

The Legion’s forces had already shifted entirely onto the defensive.

Gul’dan had been reduced to hiding inside the Nighthold, refusing to come out.

Even Kil’jaeden had apparently rolled up his sleeves and decided to enter the battlefield personally.

At this rate, the Army of the Light was probably going to win.

And that created a rather serious problem.

Suppose the Army of the Light and Azeroth achieved final victory.

Suppose God and the naaru from Earth survived the war.

Once the fighting ended, they’d return to their respective homes.

What would happen to Evenson then?

He was a Warlock.

Would the victorious forces classify him as a remnant of the Burning Legion and simply eliminate him?

Or would the naaru be in such a good mood after winning the war that it might decide to show mercy to a misguided human?

Perhaps it would even offer him a chance to change his path.

Become a servant of the Light.

A... Light Warlock.

The thought alone made Evenson’s skin crawl.

If accepting the Light meant surrendering his own will and becoming nothing more than a vessel for another power, then he would never accept it.

Otherwise, he could have joined the Burning Legion from the beginning.

He could have traded his freedom for power and become another Gul’dan.

Instead, he’d chosen the far slower path of cultivating his own strength carefully and independently.

Because the power had to belong to him.

And even if things became desperate enough that he was willing to submit to the Light simply to survive, there was still the problem of the Eredar twins.

They were pure demons.

They had already traveled far too deep down the path of fel magic.

Trying to forcibly convert them through the Light might kill them outright.

Even if they somehow survived, the process would likely inflict a level of agony far beyond simple torture.

Evenson abruptly stood.

His plan had to accelerate.

Not only did he need to move faster, he needed to add several contingencies to it.

Things he’d previously treated as theoretical possibilities could no longer remain theories.

They had to become real preparations.

The only way to control his own fate was to seize it himself.

He couldn’t afford to place his future in the hands of someone else’s mercy.

"Thank you."

Evenson looked at the monk leader’s soul.

"You’ve answered my questions and helped me understand the situation."

He extended a hand, preparing to seal the soul back into a crystal.

Then he stopped.

"There is still something I don’t understand."

His eyes narrowed.

"Why did you serve the demons?"

"Even if God and the angel abandoned humanity, why did you have to throw yourselves into the exact opposite camp?"

"You could have remained ordinary people if you couldn’t become saints or heroes. There was no reason to become outright servants of evil."

He frowned.

"And it doesn’t seem like the demons gave you anything in return."

He’d seen enough history to know what happened when religious institutions became corrupt.

Medieval popes and bishops had indulged themselves and amassed enormous fortunes, but at least they had simply been ordinary humans giving in to ordinary desires.

This sect was different.

Its members possessed a fragment of supernatural power.

Its leaders served demons.

Yet for centuries they had lived in isolation, practicing severe asceticism and deliberately avoiding wealth, power, and even pleasure.

So what exactly had caused them to fall?

"What you ask is actually something I didn’t understand at first either."

The monk leader smiled wistfully.

"After I became the leader of this temple, after the previous leader revealed our secrets to me and the demonic scriptures were carved into my body, I spent a long time wondering about the same thing."

"We lived like saints, yet carried out the commands of demons. We received none of the wealth or pleasures other servants of evil seemed to enjoy."

"So why did we do it?"

He paused.

"It took me a long time to understand."

"After I carried out several missions for Mephisto, I finally realized the answer."

"We received nothing because we were sacrificing ourselves."

The monk’s expression became solemn.

"Life and death exist in opposition to one another, yet they are also dependent on each other. That prevents the demons from simply dragging the entire mortal world into Hell."

"But their greed is endless."

"They will always find something in the mortal world that interests them."

"Our task is to satisfy that greed."

"If we refuse, they will simply take what they want by force."

The monk gave a bitter smile.

"And you already know what their methods look like."

Evenson shook his head.

"I don’t know whether to call you strong or weak."

Greed was endless.

That wasn’t unique to demons.

Humans were perfectly capable of the same thing.

Appeasement was foolish.

It was doomed to fail.

The only things capable of restraining greed were weapons and the willingness to use them.

"So what were we supposed to do?"

The monk laughed bitterly.

"Resist?"

"On what grounds?"

He looked directly at Evenson.

"Should we rely on the Sorcerer Supreme, who nearly discovered our secret?"

"She is powerful, certainly. But Mephisto has always found ways to avoid her attention."

"Should we rely on Asgard?"

"Odin has always cared about Earth, but he’s also an indecisive king. He wouldn’t risk a conflict with Hell over what he considers a minor matter."

"Minor..."

The monk clenched his jaw.

"The things those gods dismiss as minor inconveniences can become tragedies for mortals."

"They can result in hundreds or even thousands of innocent people dying for no reason."

"So we endured the curse."

"We entered the darkness ourselves."

"All to prevent that kind of... loss."

He fell silent.

Then sighed.

"But..."

"We’re finished."

His voice was hollow.

"At this point, all we can do is pray that Mephisto loses interest in the mortal world."

"It’s not over yet."

Evenson looked at the monk’s soul.

He still wasn’t sure what to make of the man.

There was no simple way to judge him.

"But at least your soul survived."

The monk looked up.

Evenson’s expression became thoughtful.

"I have a plan."

"And I have a method that might work."

"Perhaps you can be the first one to try it."

The monk stared at him.

"If it succeeds, you won’t merely escape Mephisto’s grasp forever."

Evenson’s eyes sharpened.

"You’ll gain both the power and the freedom to tell him no."

...

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