Morning.
A cemetery on the outskirts of New York.
Rows of uniquely shaped tombstones stood solemnly, one after another, stretching into the distance.
Bathed in the golden light of dawn, a stone statue of a female angel with outspread wings wore a face full of compassion and mercy.
Crosses were mottled with stains.
The ancient, elegantly built chapel stood with its doors open.
A white-haired gravedigger dressed like a western cowboy was trimming the hedges.
Buzz!An invisible telekinetic force suddenly seized the shovel at the old man's feet.
Five fingers clenched tight—
Crack!
The handle of the shovel shattered into pieces!
From the hollow interior, an ancient scroll slipped free and fell neatly into the hand of the uninvited guest.
The tall, imposing Eastern youth smiled playfully as he slowly unrolled it, examining the key prop of this entire story—
The San Venganza Contract!
This was the "mission item" that Mephisto and his son had long dreamed of obtaining.
Even God Himself feared it.
Of course—
The God of the Marvel world was not the one, true Almighty.
He was merely a member of the Council of Fathers—
His rank, strength, and origin all shrouded in mystery.
Even "The Almighty Father" was not enough to define Him.
And Mephisto, His antithesis—
The creator of the Spirit of Vengeance—
Was proof enough of how terrifying and unfathomable that being truly was.
"Hmm?"
"Why isn't he reacting?"
The girl in a crimson trench coat, her cleavage alarmingly bold, tilted her head in confusion.
The white-haired gravedigger—
Showed no interest at all in the artifact he'd been guarding for so many years.
Completely incomprehensible.
"Perhaps," said a tall, mature woman with fiery red hair and a calm, gentle tone, "it's because he understands our strength… and knows we can safeguard the San Venganza Contract."
Wanda.
Jean Grey.
They already knew everything from Shen Du—
Including the true identity of the sickly young man.
The San Venganza Contract, and everything tied to it.
Naturally, they would never allow such a precious artifact to fall into the hands of demons.
The residents of the town who had signed the contract could neither ascend to Heaven nor descend into Hell after death—Their souls wandered the mortal world for a thousand years, accumulating an unprecedented mass of resentment and energy.
Enough to help Mephisto's son, Blackheart, break his limits—
And ascend to Demon Lord.
Moreover, it could tear through the barriers between realms, turning San Venganza into a true Hell on Earth, beyond even the power of the three great Sanctums to stop.
Either outcome—
Would spell catastrophe for the mortal world.
"Not every Ghost Rider can transform in broad daylight," came a gruff voice.
The white-haired gravedigger took off his cowboy hat.His wrinkled, stubbled face broke into a kindly, warm smile.
A gesture of courtesy—
The Western knight's etiquette.
Because in most circumstances, a hat represented one's social class and standing.To remove it meant goodwill—Even admiration or respect.
The Spirit of Vengeance—
The demon within every Ghost Rider—
Was not all the same.
There were ranks among them.
Lesser spirits could not transform under the sun, and their power was weaker.
But the one inside Johnny Blaze—
Was the elemental lord Zarathos, who ruled two millennia ago.
A truly special existence.
To prevent his wayward son Blackheart from ascending to Demon Lord, Mephisto had clearly gone to great lengths.
"Carter Slade," said the young man calmly."As a Ghost Rider, hunting creatures that escape Hell is your divine duty. Yet you've hidden here for over a century. You've disappointed the God who created you."
His towering frame and mocking smile radiated sharp irony.
Then he raised his hand toward a lifelike marble statue not far away—
The Church's image of God.The Father who guides souls into Heaven.
"You're right," Carter murmured, drawing a cross over his chest."I am a sinner."
He began to chant a solemn prayer.
"God will not hear your prayers," said Wanda softly, lips curling into a knowing smile."For the Holy Lord stands before you."
"Hm?"
Carter's eyes narrowed slightly.
So… they meant to recruit him?
"As you can see," he sighed, "I'm far too old for that now. A gravedigger's life suits me better."
Buzz!
A wave of telekinetic force erupted like an oncoming earthquake.
The entire cemetery trembled violently—The ground cracked open in jagged lines.
The twelve talismans had returned to their rightful places; even Shen Du's telekinetic range and strength had grown stronger!
With a flick of his finger, he could flatten the graveyard in an instant.
"No cemetery…" he said with a sly, cold grin,"means no need for a gravedigger."
It was a devil's smile—Cruel and mocking.
The crushing pressure of absolute power!
"T-this… isn't good…" Jean stammered.
"I surrender," said Carter, raising his hands helplessly."Please, don't disturb the souls resting here.And besides… the angels are watching."
He spoke with deliberate mystery.
When all was calm again, the sun had climbed high into the sky.
Brilliant sunlight bathed the land.
Even the gloomy cemetery glowed faintly with gold.
The angel statue gazed silently into the distance—
Her sight fixed faintly upon the Eastern youth.
Tranquil.
Serene.
The gravedigger whistled softly, calling for his beloved horse, ready to depart.
"May you all rest forever in peace," he murmured."Amen."
Mounting his horse, he adjusted his cowboy hat once more."Lord Holy One," he asked, "where are we headed next?"
"Shh."
"Guests are coming."
Shen Du pressed a finger to his lips.
He had sensed the intruder the moment they arrived.
A man in an impeccably tailored suit, leaning on a cane, his hair neatly combed, his face kind and gentle—The perfect image of a refined old gentleman.
The human guise of Mephisto, Lord of Hell.
"Ah," he said with a pleasant smile,"As expected of His Holiness, the Holy Lord—omniscient and all-seeing. Even I could not locate Carter Slade, yet you found him with ease. How did you do it?"
Mephisto stood at the edge of the cemetery, making no move to enter.
By divine law—
A devil could not set foot upon holy ground.
Even angelic statues alone carried immense deterrent power against demons, dark creatures, and Hell's minions.
Of course—
Ancient demons, who wielded the power of divination and omen, were exceptions.
They were beyond Hell's rule, beyond even the gods' control—
Beings born of natural law itself.
Transcendent.
Existing beyond the limits of even the highest demons.
Yet time had eroded their wisdom, and the ages had devoured their power.
Countless millennia of imprisonment—
Trapped within barren, lifeless dimensions—
Had reduced their might drastically, leaving them only at the level of high demons.
Still—
With the San Venganza Contract and the souls of that cursed town—
They could regain a portion of their strength.
"This is the Lord of Hell," Shen Du said flatly.
…Mephisto?!
The very devil from Faust?
How could he look so kind, so gentle?
Wanda and Jean exchanged stunned glances—Both saw the same disbelief in each other's eyes.
"If the devil truly looked like a devil," Carter muttered coldly,"how could he ever tempt the hearts of men?"
He had nothing but disdain for the soul-dealing Lord of Hell.
"Lord Holy One," said Mephisto softly,"the San Venganza Contract—You must not keep it for yourself."
His kindly smile did not falter as he continued,"It will bring you misfortune.Those you love will be cursed.They will wake from endless nightmares—Their souls unable to rest in peace…"
-----------------------
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