Sorcerer in the Marvel Universe

The more Mephisto thought about Evenson’s proposal, the better it sounded.

Compared with his original plan of stuffing Lucifer full of souls before sending him back upstairs, this was an obvious bargain. One plan required Mephisto to surrender a huge portion of the souls under his control. The other involved stealing a portion of Lucifer’s supply.

That was already a win.

There was another problem with the original plan, too. If Lucifer ate his fill and restored his angelic form while still in Hell, the sheer radiance he unleashed would inevitably cause further losses. Worse, what if Lucifer decided he liked Hell and simply refused to leave?

Was Mephisto supposed to drag his old friends over and stage an infernal eviction?

That would be a nightmare. He would lose a mountain of souls and then have to personally fight Lucifer on top of it.

No matter how he calculated it, the deal was terrible.

"All right. We’ll do it your way."

Having made up his mind, Mephisto immediately raised his head. His eyelids drooped, his eyes rolled upward, and the muscles in his face began twitching violently.

Evenson stared.

Then he leaned toward the Eredar Twins and whispered, "Is he having a seizure because he’s too excited? Look at him. His eyes are rolling back."

Grand Warlock Alythess sighed helplessly.

"He’s using telepathy."

"No way..." Evenson looked as though he had just been informed that gravity was optional. "I’ve used telepathy before. I never had to shake like that."

"Of course not," Lady Sacrolash said, frowning slightly. "The farthest you’ve ever used a mental link was less than half a planet away. He’s making a cross-dimensional call. Naturally, it takes considerably more mental energy."

"Oh."

Evenson nodded, finally understanding.

His own telepathic communication was basically a local call. Cheap, easy, nothing to worry about.

Mephisto, meanwhile, was making an interdimensional long-distance call.

No wonder the man looked like his brain was being charged by the minute.

"Does this happen to you two when you communicate across dimensions?"

"Of course not," Sacrolash answered with absolute certainty.

Evenson raised an eyebrow.

Were the two of them really that much stronger than Mephisto?

"We have Legion communicators," Alythess explained, giving him the look one reserved for someone who had somehow survived this long without discovering electricity.

"Those things are convenient," Sacrolash added. "When they were first invented, they even had some interesting features."

"Such as?"

"They could record whatever was happening in front of you and upload it to the Legion communications network so other people could watch and leave comments."

Evenson’s mouth twitched.

Alythess looked genuinely enthusiastic now.

"Unfortunately, after several commanders became so busy taking selfies on the front lines that they missed critical opportunities, Kil’jaeden ordered the interesting features removed."

Evenson stared at them.

There were so many things he wanted to say that his brain simply gave up trying to organize them.

"Wow," he managed. "The Burning Legion is remarkably modern."

About two minutes later, Mephisto finally ended his call and returned to normal.

He smiled at Evenson.

"I’ve spoken with a few old friends. We’ve settled on your plan. We’ll deal with Lucifer this way. He won’t starve, but he won’t be allowed to gorge himself, either."

"Hm."

Mephisto rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"Keeping someone neither hungry nor satisfied is the best way to maintain long-term stability..."

He paused.

"Where have I heard that before?"

He shrugged.

"Never mind. Plenty of dictators and populist politicians seem rather fond of the idea."

Evenson nodded.

Then he stared at Mephisto.

And kept staring.

After a while, Mephisto began to feel uncomfortable.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Well..." Evenson carefully considered his wording. "The transaction is settled. We’ve finished discussing Lucifer. At this point, shouldn’t you turn into a cloud of smoke and head back to Hell?"

Mephisto spread his hands in disbelief.

"What is wrong with you? Didn’t I tell you I’m on vacation?"

Evenson and the Eredar Twins exchanged a look.

"You’re serious?"

They had all assumed Mephisto was joking.

"Of course I’m serious!"

Mephisto slapped both hands against his outfit.

"I even changed into my special vacation skin for picking up women. Does this look fake to you?"

Evenson stared at him in disbelief.

The man’s son had been rebelling.

His own lieutenants had been causing trouble.

Lucifer was sitting right in the middle of the biggest headache imaginable.

And Mephisto’s response was to leave Hell and spend his vacation on Earth trying to pick up women.

Evenson couldn’t decide whether to admire the man’s confidence or question his sanity.

Then an idea occurred to him.

"Wait. You didn’t get overthrown, did you?"

"What? Of course not!"

Mephisto practically jumped.

"I’ve told you already. I am Hell. I have absolute control over Hell!"

"Sure."

"Hmph."

"Ha."

Evenson and the two Eredar immediately responded with varying shades of disbelief.

They even managed to coordinate their expressions.

Mephisto stared at the three of them.

"All right," he said, waving both hands. "My son and my assistants have been causing some trouble lately. Fine. But have you noticed something? They don’t dare cause trouble in Hell. They have to come to Earth to make their mess."

He spread his arms triumphantly.

"That proves I still have absolute authority in Hell."

Evenson slowly shook his head.

Using rebellion as evidence of one’s absolute authority was certainly a creative argument.

"So why did you suddenly decide to take a vacation?"

"Because I’m tired and I want to relax. Is that so strange?" Mephisto said irritably. "Human kings do it all the time these days."

"They’re constitutional monarchs."

Evenson shot back immediately.

"Are you saying you’re a constitutional monarch now, too?"

Those kings had lost most of their actual power. Aside from attending ceremonies, waving at people, and cutting ribbons, they didn’t have much to do.

Mephisto, on the other hand, was an absolute ruler with actual power.

He couldn’t exactly just clock out.

"Tell me what you’re really doing on Earth," Evenson said.

Mephisto had to be after something.

"Otherwise, I’ll call the Sorcerer Supreme back. I’m sure she’d be delighted to send you straight home."

Mephisto’s mouth twitched.

If he was being honest, the Sorcerer Supreme was one of the few people on Earth who still made him genuinely uncomfortable.

"I really am here on vacation!" he insisted.

Then, after a moment, he sighed.

"If you absolutely need another motive, I suppose I want to become the king of the nightclub scene. Does that count?"

Evenson continued staring at him.

Mephisto clenched his teeth.

"All right. Fine. I’ll tell you the truth."

He lowered his voice.

"You have a bit of a population problem right now."

Evenson blinked.

"I don’t particularly like the population density, so I’ve decided to stay on Earth for a few..."

Mephisto hesitated.

"...decades."

Evenson stared.

"Until things calm down."

He shrugged.

"At the very least, until my palace has some empty rooms again."

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