Sorcerer in the Marvel Universe

It was difficult not to appreciate the irony.

As humanity marched ever deeper down the road of self-destruction, it had somehow fallen to an evil Lord of Hell to fight for world peace.

Mephisto, of all people, had become one of the forces working to keep the world from tearing itself apart.

The irony was almost painful.

"I’ll tentatively accept your explanation," Evenson said at last.

Then his expression hardened.

"But I still think someone like you should avoid staying on Earth for too long."

"That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?"

Mephisto looked genuinely offended.

"Humanity is the reason I had to confiscate every recreational facility I own. Now I’ve come to Earth because I want somewhere to have a little fun. Isn’t that the least you people owe me?"

"I sympathize with your suffering."

Evenson delivered the words with perfect seriousness.

"That’s where my sympathy ends."

Mephisto’s expression soured.

"If you want entertainment, why not stay in Hell and have some fun with all those uninvited guests? You have an entire realm full of sinners who took over your property. Why not make their afterlife miserable and enjoy yourself while you’re at it?"

It seemed like an obvious solution.

They’d occupied Mephisto’s house. He could torment them as much as he wanted, get some of his frustration out, and call it a productive use of his time.

"Please."

Mephisto looked exhausted just hearing the suggestion.

"Torturing sinners is my job. It isn’t even a hobby."

He spread his hands.

"Who treats their job as entertainment?"

Evenson considered that.

Fair point.

Playing a game for fun was one thing. Getting paid to grind the same game for twelve hours a day was something else entirely.

"I still don’t want another destabilizing force running around on Earth," Evenson said, narrowing his eyes. "This world already has enough problems."

He paused.

"And even if everything you told me is true, there’s no guarantee you don’t have another agenda."

That was the trouble with demons.

Half-truths, carefully omitted details, and lies wrapped around a kernel of truth were practically part of their operating system.

Maybe Mephisto really was sick of overcrowded Hell.

But who could guarantee that once he settled into a nightclub and started chasing women, he wouldn’t eventually decide to do something considerably more dangerous?

"So you still don’t trust me."

Mephisto put on an exaggeratedly wounded expression.

"Who would trust a Lord of Hell?"

Evenson gestured toward the Eredar Twins.

"It’s not as though anyone should trust a dreadlord, either."

Alythess nodded.

"You’re absolutely right."

Though she was speaking to Evenson, her eyes kept drifting toward Mephisto.

"People who put their faith in creatures like that rarely have happy endings. Just look at a certain banshee who was foolish enough to appoint a dreadlord as her second-in-command."

Sacrolash picked up the story.

"She nearly lost everything because of it. Including her capital."

"May the Queen be blessed."

The words slipped out of Evenson’s mouth before he could stop them.

Alythess immediately grabbed him by the throat.

"You seem awfully concerned about that banshee."

Evenson’s eyes widened.

"Do you have some kind of inappropriate interest in her?"

"Wait, I know about this."

Sacrolash grabbed a fistful of Evenson’s hair and pulled his head back.

"That banshee has been dead for years, but somehow she’s still absurdly popular. Plenty of people have completely unrealistic fantasies about her."

Her eyes narrowed.

"Men and women alike."

She leaned closer.

"Don’t tell me you’re one of them."

"Of course not!"

Evenson could barely squeeze the words out around Alythess’s grip.

"I just respect her strength! That’s all! I have absolutely no ulterior motives. I’ve never even met her!"

The twins exchanged a glance.

Apparently satisfied, they finally let him go.

Evenson immediately straightened his hair and rubbed his neck.

"You two..."

Mephisto had been watching the entire exchange.

A slow, knowing smile spread across his face as his eyes moved between Evenson and the two Eredar.

He had suspected for quite some time that their relationship was considerably less professional than Evenson pretended.

Now he had proof.

"What about us?" Sacrolash asked, turning a cold stare on him.

"Nothing."

Mephisto stroked his chin.

"I was just saying that the three of you seem to have a very close relationship."

He couldn’t help being impressed.

Evenson had somehow managed to form this kind of relationship with one female demon.

No.

Two.

That required either exceptional talent or extremely poor survival instincts.

"Still," Mephisto continued, "I suppose I can’t blame you for distrusting me."

His grin turned sly.

"Lying is practically instinctive for me."

He slowly rolled his eyes upward.

"But there is one way to make sure I’m not lying to you."

Evenson had just finished fixing his hair and was still recovering from being strangled.

He already had a pretty good idea what Mephisto meant.

"A demonic contract."

Mephisto’s expression suddenly became serious.

"We can put it in writing. A binding agreement guaranteeing that I won’t do anything excessive while I’m on Earth."

As he spoke, he reached inside his robes and began pulling something out with the suspicious caution of a man stealing something he absolutely intended to keep.

Evenson considered the proposal.

Demonic contracts were one area where devils actually had a surprisingly solid reputation. They lied constantly, twisted words whenever possible, and exploited every loophole they could find, but once a contract was properly written and signed, they generally honored it.

It was a reliable restriction.

And there was another problem.

Even if Evenson refused and summoned the Sorcerer Supreme to drive Mephisto back to Hell, the old bastard would probably find a way to return eventually.

And the next time, he might be considerably harder to detect.

Better to establish the rules now and bind him to them.

"Wait."

Evenson raised a hand.

"We’ll put the contract on hold for now."

Mephisto’s expression immediately darkened.

He shoved the half-drawn document back into his robes.

"Don’t push your luck."

His voice had turned cold.

"The only reason I’m standing here negotiating with you is because I respect these two ladies and the Sorcerer Supreme."

He narrowed his eyes.

"Don’t actually make me angry."

"What are you going to do if you get angry?"

The Eredar Twins stepped forward simultaneously.

Their message was unmistakable.

In this world, Evenson was theirs to bully.

Nobody else was getting the privilege.

"Relax. Relax."

Evenson quickly raised both hands.

"I’m not refusing the contract. I just don’t think I should be the one signing it."

Whoever signed the agreement would ultimately bear responsibility for it.

A contract authorizing a Lord of Hell to walk freely through the human world was probably unprecedented.

If something went wrong, Evenson had no intention of being the person left holding the bag.

He needed to find someone else to sign it.

"Then who?" Mephisto asked, looking dejected. "The Sorcerer Supreme? Because I’m fairly certain she’d refuse."

"Not her."

Evenson wasn’t stupid enough to volunteer for that conversation.

"You know how the human world works. If you want to travel internationally, you need a passport and a visa."

He gestured toward Mephisto.

"You’re technically traveling between dimensions. If anything, your paperwork should be even more complicated."

Mephisto considered that carefully.

It actually sounded reasonable.

If someone wanted to travel to Hell and back, Mephisto supposed he would want to approve the paperwork personally.

"So who do you have in mind?"

"I know someone."

Evenson smiled confidently.

"Give me three days. I’ll arrange a meeting between you and him."

Mephisto nodded.

"Three days. Deal."

He turned to leave.

"One more thing."

Evenson stopped him.

"Your true body can’t actually come to Earth, can it? This form is just a powerful projection."

Mephisto glanced back.

"So why are you so determined to take a vacation here?"

Mephisto’s mouth twitched.

His eyes actually looked a little moist.

"Fine. I’ll tell you the truth."

He sighed.

"My current living quarters in Hell consist of a bedroom that’s less than two hundred square meters."

Evenson blinked.

"That’s it?"

"My true body has no choice but to sleep there."

Mephisto looked deeply wounded by the indignity.

"So I attached my consciousness to this avatar and came here to play Human World Online."

Evenson stared at him for a moment.

Then he nodded in understanding.

Of course.

A shut-in’s physical space might be limited.

Their mental world was another matter entirely.

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