"Daniel, I'll head out now."
In the New York Sanctum, Sebastian had just stepped through a portal from Kamar-Taj. He waved goodbye to Daniel, the Sanctum's caretaker, then opened the door and stepped onto the bustling New York street.
He headed toward the subway station as usual, but as he descended the stairs to the platform, he froze. The platform was eerily empty, and the overhead lights flickered wildly.
Suddenly, the lights went out. After a few seconds, they flared back on, revealing an old man in a black trench coat, leaning on a black cane. His gray hair was slicked back, his appearance neat and polished. He stood just a few feet from Sebastian.
Zzt… zzt…
The lights buzzed and flickered. In the flashes, the man's face seemed to shift—morphing into a grotesque, demonic visage before snapping back to human. The effect was chilling, like a horror movie flickering on and off.
A wave of dread rolled off the stranger, and Sebastian instantly knew who he was: Mephisto, Lord of Hell.
Taking a steadying breath, Sebastian reminded himself that Mephisto couldn't act directly on Earth without breaking cosmic rules. Heaven and other powers would punish him severely if he tried. At most, he could tempt or threaten.
"Mephisto…" Sebastian said, keeping his voice calm.
Mephisto nodded, a sly smile curling his lips. "It's an honor to meet you, Mr. Shaw."
"The legendary Lord of Hell knows my name? I'm flattered," Sebastian replied, his tone dry.
"Oh, Mr. Shaw, defeating my former knight single-handedly—even one without the Spirit of Vengeance—marks you as exceptional among humans. Add your ties to Kamar-Taj, and of course you've caught my attention."
"You didn't come just to chat, did you?"
Mephisto tapped his cane, stepping closer. "Mr. Shaw, you prefer directness, so I'll be blunt. You have something of mine. Will you return it?"
"Where would I get something belonging to the great Lord of Hell?" Sebastian asked, feigning innocence.
"Mr. Shaw, no one can lie to me. I know you hold the Contract of San Venganza. Please give it back."
"You mean the Contract of San Venganza? I took it from someone else. Why's it yours?"
Mephisto's eyes glinted, recognizing Sebastian's refusal to yield easily. "Fine. What will it take for you to hand it over? Power? Wealth? Strength? Beauty? Eternal life? Name your desire, and it's yours. We can sign a contract to ensure I keep my word—demons never break them."
"No thanks," Sebastian said. "I heard about Johnny Blaze's father. Your trickery there was a bit low, even for the Lord of Hell."
Mephisto's eyes narrowed, and the lights flickered violently, his demonic face flashing more vividly. "Sebastian Shaw, you should know I have countless followers on Earth. You're formidable, but your mother, Alisha Shaw, is just an ordinary woman. I can't act directly, but my followers face no such limits."
Sebastian's gaze hardened, but he flashed a disarming smile. "No need to get heated, Mephisto. The Contract of San Venganza means nothing to me. I'd consider giving it to you—for the right price. But you know I'm tight with Kamar-Taj. I can't deal behind their backs right now. Give me time, maybe until the Witch Heart Demon's dealt with and the contract's less of a hot topic. Then we can talk."
"How long?" Mephisto asked, his tone sharp. "My patience has limits."
"You can't touch the human world directly, Mephisto. Sure, you've got followers, and my mom's just a regular person. But if I play hardball, I'll move Alisha to Kamar-Taj for protection and hand the contract to the Ancient One. Then you're out of luck, right?"
Mephisto stared, his face unreadable. After a long pause, his smile returned. "You're correct. Time means little to me. I can wait—even until you're old and gone, it's a blink in my eyes. But I despise deceit. Keep our deal fair, and we'll both avoid trouble, yes?"
"Absolutely," Sebastian said. "Wait a bit. Once I'm strong enough to stand on my own and leave Kamar-Taj, we'll trade."
"Keep the Contract of San Venganza safe. I don't want to negotiate with anyone else."
"Don't worry, I'm looking forward to dealing with the Lord of Hell."
"That's fine, that's fine…"
Mephisto gave Sebastian a piercing look, then stepped back, vanishing into the darkness.
The lights went out again, then flickered back on. The chatter of other subway passengers filled the air. Sebastian exhaled, realizing his shirt was soaked with sweat. Facing the Lord of Hell was like dancing on a knife's edge—thrilling but deadly.
He'd prepared for this moment, though. Sebastian was confident he could grow powerful enough to negotiate with Mephisto on equal terms before any deal was struck, free from manipulation. A fair contract with the Lord of Hell, without hidden traps, would ensure Mephisto honored his word—guaranteeing a deal worth making.
------------------------------
"Tony, how's the injection coming along? Did it work?"
A week after securing the Contract of San Venganza, things seemed to quiet down. Sebastian hadn't heard a whisper about demons or the Ghost Rider since.
Instead, it was Tony Stark who reached out.
Using the excuse of a science experiment summer camp, Tony got permission from Alisha to bring Sebastian to his temporary New York apartment. There, they worked on creating an injectable version of the blood purification potion.
Tony was thrilled at the idea of never again enduring the potion's foul taste, pouring his energy into the project.
In just a week, Sebastian and Tony perfected the injection, maintaining the potion's full potency. Sebastian thought the extra step of turning a drinkable potion into an injection was a waste of time, but Tony, still haunted by the potion's flavor, insisted it was worth it. Plus, an injectable form was easier to store and carry, meaning Tony wouldn't need Sebastian to brew fresh batches regularly.
"Finally done!" Tony exclaimed, grinning. "A potion that works just as well, injected straight in—no more gagging on that awful taste."
Sebastian chuckled, watching Tony's relief. "We could use this tech for the potion company's products. A taste that bad would tank sales. Injections also make it harder for anyone to reverse-engineer the formula. Sure, cracking a brewed potion's recipe is nearly impossible without powerful magic, but better safe than sorry, right?"
"Totally," Tony agreed. "The tech's simple enough. I'll hand it over to you later. But seriously, you're okay leaving most of the company stuff to me? It's your business!"
"No big deal," Sebastian shrugged. "I just want the cash and the potion's benefits. The rest feels like a hassle."
"Fair enough. Leave it to me—you won't have to lift a finger."
"More like leave it to Pepper!" Sebastian teased.
Tony laughed. "Hah, you're not wrong!"
"Alright, since we're done, I'm out," Sebastian said, grabbing his coat. "Gotta get back to my mom."
"Heading home now? It's getting late," Tony noted.
Sebastian shook his head. "No worries. I'm stopping by a place that's only open at night to grab something."
"Need a ride?"
"Nah, I'm good!" Sebastian waved, heading to the elevator and leaving the building.
He planned to visit a restaurant that opened for just one night, famous for a dessert Alisha loved.
She'd never figured out how to recreate it, and after being away for days, Sebastian figured the treat would keep her from nagging when he got home.
Outside, he was about to hail a taxi when he spotted a tall man leaning against a motorcycle by the road.
Johnny Blaze—the modern Ghost Rider.
Sebastian glanced at him casually, like any passerby, and turned to walk away.
But the world doesn't deal in coincidences. Johnny's presence wasn't random.
Before Sebastian could get far, Johnny called out, "Mr. Shaw, Mr. Sebastian Shaw, right?"
Sebastian turned, feigning confusion. "Sorry, do I know you?"
"Mr. Shaw, I need you to hand over the Contract of San Venganza. I have to use it to save someone."
What? Sebastian thought. Is the Witch Heart Demon smarter than he seems, targeting someone Johnny cares about?
"Sorry, I don't know what you mean," Sebastian said, keeping his tone neutral.
"No, no, Mr. Shaw, don't play dumb," Johnny pressed, his voice tinged with anger. "I know the Contract of San Venganza is with you. Give it to me!"
Johnny's tone carried a commanding edge, backed by the Spirit of Vengeance's power, giving him bold confidence.
"Please don't hassle me," Sebastian said, spotting two police officers nearby. "Officers, this guy's bothering me—can you help?"
The officers, who'd noticed the exchange, stepped out of their patrol car and approached Johnny, restraining him.
"Kid, you're free to go," one officer said to Sebastian. "We'll handle him."
"Yeah, it's late—head home," the other added.
Sebastian nodded, thanked them, and walked off quickly, ignoring Johnny's frustrated shouts.
The Contract of San Venganza was too valuable, its potential effects too unpredictable. Handing it over could empower the Witch Heart Demon or complicate things with Mephisto. Sebastian wasn't taking that risk.
The sky was still light, so Johnny couldn't transform into the Ghost Rider yet. Even if he did, his sense of justice would keep him from harming the police. Sebastian left without worrying about the officers' safety.
After buying Alisha's favorite dessert, Sebastian slipped into an alley, ready to open a portal home to his rooftop.
But as he reached for his sling ring, an invisible pressure clamped down on him. Suddenly, four or five hands made of red brick and concrete stretched from the alley walls, grabbing for him.
An ambush? How didn't I sense it?
Sebastian's hand darted to his waist, drawing his wand. He cast Protego, conjuring an invisible shield that blocked the grasping hands. Turning into a swirl of black smoke via Apparition, he tried to escape.
But the alley's space felt locked—neither Apparition nor a portal would work. The air itself seemed frozen.
This is trouble.
As Sebastian scrambled for a plan, the ground ahead bulged, earth and stone shaping into a towering, dark-skinned figure.
The Earth Demon, under the Witch Heart Demon's command.