Sorcerer in the Marvel Universe

Evenson let out a long sigh.

Apparently, Hell was so overcrowded these days that even its lord had been forced out onto Earth because there wasn’t enough room for him to stand.

How tragic.

How utterly heartbreaking.

For about half a second.

Then Evenson’s expression hardened.

"If I believed that excuse, I’d have to assume I’ve developed early-onset dementia. I’m calling the Sorcerer Supreme. She can send you home."

"I’m telling you, it’s true!"

Mephisto waved both hands, looking genuinely offended.

"You said Hell has infinite space."

Evenson rubbed his nose.

"If space is infinite, how exactly can you run out of it?"

"Hell has infinite space," Mephisto snapped, rolling his eyes. "That doesn’t mean all of it is usable."

"That actually makes sense."

Alythess nodded, rubbing her hands together thoughtfully.

"The Twisting Nether is theoretically infinite as well, but much of it requires basic infrastructure before the Legion can make practical use of it."

"Exactly."

Mephisto nodded vigorously.

"Hell exists to punish the souls of the wicked. We can’t just dump them somewhere and forget about them. At that point, we’d be running a damn camping resort."

Evenson snorted.

"We have to build cells. Lots of cells. Every sinful soul needs an appropriate punishment tailored to their particular crimes. One prisoner, one specialized cell."

Mephisto’s expression darkened.

"It’s an enormous construction project."

He paused.

"And humans make the whole thing worse."

"How?"

"Some people live less than thirty years, then spend three hundred years paying off their sins in Hell."

Mephisto’s face twisted.

"It makes the cells very difficult to recycle."

"That does sound like a logistical problem."

Evenson was willing to concede that much.

Then he narrowed his eyes.

"But it isn’t a new problem. I don’t believe you’ve suddenly been overwhelmed by something that’s existed for thousands of years."

A sudden crisis could catch anyone off guard.

This wasn’t one.

Humanity had existed for ages. Technology and material conditions had changed dramatically, but human nature had not exactly undergone a revolutionary transformation. Mephisto was one of the rulers of Hell. There was no way he hadn’t accounted for the basic demographics of damnation.

"This wouldn’t normally be a problem," Mephisto admitted.

"Hell’s population follows a fairly predictable pattern. We expand periodically according to projected growth, and the whole system has always operated smoothly."

He hesitated.

"But..."

"But what?"

Evenson waited as Mephisto struggled with how to explain it.

"About three hundred years ago, one of my most trusted subordinates requested a large budget to expand Hell."

Mephisto’s teeth clenched.

"After the project was completed, he swore to me that the new facilities would be sufficient to handle six hundred and sixty-six years of population growth."

He looked increasingly furious.

"And I actually believed him."

Mephisto threw his hands up.

"Do you know how long it’s been? I’ve already had to donate my own palace and convert it into prison cells!"

Evenson silently counted on his fingers.

Three hundred years.

Six hundred and sixty-six years.

Not even half.

There was definitely something rotten in that construction project.

"I don’t expect demons to be paragons of honesty," Evenson said. "Skimming some of the construction budget would hardly surprise me. But building something this catastrophically bad?"

He shook his head.

"If I were you, I’d have him drawn and quartered. Then put him back together and do it again. Repeat until everyone involved in the project developed a healthy respect for engineering."

Mephisto rubbed his chin awkwardly.

"Well..."

"What?"

"I can’t completely blame him."

Evenson’s eyes widened.

"What?"

"I personally inspected the expansion after it was finished."

Mephisto looked away.

"And I was extremely satisfied with the results."

A beat.

"I even rewarded him."

Evenson stared.

"Then where exactly did things go wrong?"

"Hmph."

Mephisto’s expression darkened.

"At first, everything was perfectly normal."

Then his voice became cold.

"Until a certain unlucky archduke who died in Sarajevo showed up in Hell."

Evenson blinked.

Mephisto’s eyes narrowed.

"Within days, those damned souls started falling into Hell like rain."

Then, almost immediately, Mephisto’s tone shifted into bitter self-mockery.

"Of course, it wasn’t unprecedented. Humans have slaughtered one another in wars before. I figured this one was simply a particularly bad outbreak of stupidity. More people died than usual, so I would move the next expansion project forward."

He shrugged.

"That was how I reassured myself."

"And eventually the abnormal influx stopped."

"For a few years."

Mephisto’s eye twitched.

"Then, just when I had time to catch my breath, it started again."

His voice rose.

"Stalingrad!"

Evenson watched him carefully.

"Leningrad!"

Mephisto jabbed a finger into the air.

"Dunkirk! Normandy! Hiroshima! Nagasaki!"

His face had become almost hysterical.

"Hitler! Hideki Tojo! Mussoli..."

He stopped himself.

"Never mind that one."

He waved it away.

"They brought their people down by the thousands, all trying to get into Hell faster than everyone else!"

Mephisto looked genuinely traumatized.

"Do you have any idea what it was like down there?"

Evenson wisely said nothing.

"The demons handling registrations wore their fingers down to the bone! The prisons were overflowing in no time!"

Mephisto began counting on his fingers.

"First I donated my kennels."

Another finger.

"Then my private amusement park."

Another.

"My gardens."

He looked genuinely devastated.

"And the worst part?"

His voice dropped.

"Even the least guilty of these people had to spend a hundred years in Hell before they could leave."

Evenson was beginning to feel sorry for him.

There was an old saying about disasters killing thousands and wars killing millions.

Mephisto had survived natural catastrophes. He had survived the fall of Pompeii. He had survived the Black Death.

But two world wars had apparently accomplished what all of those combined could not.

They had made the Lord of Hell homeless.

"I’ll admit it," Mephisto said, shaking his head. "I underestimated humanity."

He sighed.

"Several of us have ruled different realms of Hell for countless millennia. We’ve never once gone to war with each other."

Evenson raised an eyebrow.

"Even when territory became a sensitive issue, we settled things through negotiation."

Mephisto gave a bitter little laugh.

"When you compare that to humanity..."

He spread his hands.

"Which species do you think is actually more frightening?"

Evenson didn’t have a particularly good answer.

"Look forward," he said awkwardly. "You can’t spend forever staring at the past."

Then he added, "At least there hasn’t been a Third World War. If there had been, I imagine you’d have had an even worse time."

"Exactly!"

Mephisto nodded emphatically.

"Do you know what I did after I had to confiscate my opera house and wine cellar?"

Evenson slowly shook his head.

"I nudged an American reconnaissance aircraft a few degrees off course."

Mephisto smiled.

"It happened to discover the Soviet missiles being transported to Cuba."

Evenson’s eyes widened.

"And those two completely unknown reporters who somehow uncovered the Watergate scandal?"

Mephisto shrugged.

"A little encouragement."

Evenson’s jaw dropped.

"And that utterly talentless, naive, bald man?"

Mephisto paused.

"If he hadn’t made a deal with me, how exactly do you think he would’ve become the last leader of the Soviet Union?"

Evenson stared at him.

Then he stared some more.

He was beginning to suspect that if Mephisto had bothered to put his mind to it, the man could have won the Nobel Peace Prize several times over.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!