Sorcerer in the Marvel Universe

Mephisto was making everything sound wonderfully reasonable, but Evenson had a pretty good idea what the devil was actually thinking.

Devils had principles.

They even followed those principles.

What they were truly good at, however, was finding loopholes.

Mephisto had solemnly declared that the dead had no business interfering with the living world. Yet hadn’t he already used Coulson’s soul to pressure Evenson into helping him deal with Locke? And hadn’t he just offered the souls of dead S.H.I.E.L.D. agents as bargaining chips in his negotiations with Nick Fury?

Wasn’t that using the dead to interfere with the living?

Perhaps it wasn’t direct enough to technically violate his principles. Maybe Mephisto was simply finding ways around them.

So why couldn’t he do the same thing with the secrets of the dead?

Did he really need to sit down face-to-face with Fury and repeat those secrets himself?

Of course not.

If Mephisto wanted to, he could probably find a hundred different ways to get the information to Fury without technically breaking his word.

There was only one reason he’d rejected Fury so decisively.

He’d found something valuable.

A devil never forgot the value of leverage.

Revealing your deepest desires in front of one was dangerous. Once a devil knew what you wanted, it could always find a way to make you compromise.

When Mephisto offered to give S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel preferential treatment in Hell, he’d noticed the moment Fury became interested.

Then Fury had immediately asked for an additional condition involving the secrets of the dead.

That urgency had told Mephisto everything he needed to know.

This was an even more valuable bargaining chip.

And spending two bargaining chips in a single deal was wasteful.

Every piece of leverage had to be squeezed for everything it was worth.

Mephisto had decided that the cheaper chip was enough to secure his green card.

The more valuable one could wait.

Next time, he’d be able to name his price.

"I think we’ve negotiated about as far as we’re going to get," Evenson said, lightly tapping his fingers against the arm of the couch. "You should probably accept the deal."

"Just like that?"

Fury looked as though something were clawing at the inside of his skull.

He hadn’t gotten the information he wanted.

He was not happy about it.

"But if you still want to negotiate those... other matters with him, he needs to remain in the human world first, doesn’t he?"

Evenson gave Fury a meaningful look.

"Unless you plan on jumping out of the eighteenth-floor window and going to Hell yourself to ask him."

That was the trap.

Mephisto had deliberately placed the thing Fury wanted most somewhere further down the road.

Once Fury was committed to keeping him around, the earlier terms became much harder to reject.

"Fine."

Fury gritted his teeth.

He was about to agree when he paused.

"There’s one more favor I need you to do."

"You’re remarkably troublesome."

Mephisto shifted impatiently against the couch.

This time, however, he didn’t refuse immediately.

Another request meant another potential bargaining chip.

Another deal.

"Agent Phil Coulson."

Fury’s expression became serious.

"You remember him, don’t you?"

Mephisto thought for a moment.

"I do."

He nodded.

"I returned his soul to you as promised. I also agreed not to interfere with his life or death by any means."

He gave Fury a faint smile.

"I keep my promises."

"I’ll take your word for that."

Fury nodded.

Then his tone changed.

"But Coulson’s memories of Hell remained."

His eye hardened.

"I think you should do something about that."

Evenson’s brow immediately furrowed.

Mephisto, meanwhile, gave a low, mocking chuckle.

"Don’t try to dodge this one," Fury said, apparently taking Mephisto’s silence as another impending refusal. "You said it yourself. The dead shouldn’t interfere with the living."

"So?"

Mephisto looked completely unconcerned.

"Erase the memories."

Fury’s voice was firm.

"Whatever happened in Hell should stay in Hell."

"Mm."

Mephisto continued to chuckle.

Then the smile disappeared.

"No."

Fury’s eye widened.

He was already preparing to make a much less diplomatic response when Mephisto cut him off.

"Save your breath. I know exactly what you’re about to say."

He leaned forward.

"First you’ll say, ’Erase those memories, you bastard.’ I’ll say no."

He raised a finger.

"Then you’ll say, ’Don’t make me do this the hard way.’"

Another finger.

"My answer will still be no."

He spread his hands.

"See? I saved us both the trouble."

The performance was so ridiculous that it almost felt like Mephisto was arguing with himself.

Then his expression became serious again.

"You need to understand something. Those memories were acquired by Coulson’s soul while it was in Hell. They aren’t ordinary memories stored somewhere in his brain."

Mephisto tapped his chest.

"They’re engraved directly into his soul."

"Which should make them easier for you to deal with," Fury countered. "You’re the Lord of Hell. Souls are practically your specialty."

Mephisto looked at him with open disdain.

"What do you think a human soul is?"

He paused.

"A pizza?"

Fury said nothing.

"Something you can slice up however you like? Don’t want a particular part? Just scrape off the cheese and throw it away?"

Mephisto shook his head.

"What an absurd idea."

Then he glanced toward Evenson.

"You understand this, don’t you?"

Fury immediately turned his gaze toward Evenson.

Evenson took a moment to formulate his answer.

"Removing memories that were formed while the soul was in that state would require you to directly manipulate the soul."

He gestured vaguely.

"And you’d have to surgically remove an incredibly tiny portion of it without damaging anything else."

His expression tightened.

"That’s not realistic. It’s also extremely dangerous."

As a Warlock, Evenson was hardly unfamiliar with souls.

They could be ripped from bodies.

They could be consumed as magical materials.

They could be fed into a Soul Engine as fuel.

A soul could even be torn apart and processed for useful information.

But Coulson’s memories of Hell were different.

Compared to the total mass of his soul, that particular fragment would probably be thinner than a strand of hair.

Removing such a tiny piece without damaging the rest?

Evenson didn’t have the skill for it.

Apparently, neither did Mephisto.

"There’s really no way?"

Fury still wasn’t ready to give up.

Mephisto sighed.

"Fine. How about a soul-version of a lobotomy?"

Fury stared at him.

"I’ll just put a Soul Spike through his head. Problem solved."

Mephisto sounded genuinely irritated now.

"No."

Fury immediately shook his head.

"Let’s not do that."

He had no intention of turning Coulson into a vegetable.

Besides, there was no reason to assume they were completely out of options.

"Although..."

Mephisto suddenly changed direction.

"There is another way."

The abrupt reversal nearly gave everyone whiplash.

"I can’t remove the memories," Mephisto explained, "but I can place a layer over that part of his mind."

He smiled.

"Then I can fabricate some false memories and use them to cover the originals."

He leaned back.

"The memories would still be there underneath, but he wouldn’t be able to access them."

Mephisto shrugged.

"That should solve the problem."

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