The convergence of the Nine Realms did more than just allow passage between dimensions—it also weakened mystical seals across Earth. This was the moment Mephisto had been waiting for.
For an entire year, Mephisto had been hiding on Earth, stripped of his full power after Hell's destruction. Without his infernal realm, the former Lord of Lies found his strength slowly diminishing. Though he could linger on Earth for thousands of years, he could never accept such an existence. Mephisto was a being of ambition and vengeance, unwilling to endure this weakened state.
His grand plan was finally in motion.
Mephisto set his sights on Johnny Blaze, the Ghost Rider, who carried within him the spirit of Zarathos, an ancient and immensely powerful elemental demon. Zarathos, once revered as a Spirit of Vengeance, had long been sealed away by the original gods and a coalition of vengeful spirits. He thrived on consuming souls, gaining strength from the pain and suffering of the wicked.
Johnny Blaze, cursed with the Ghost Rider's powers, was an unwilling host. By day, he was a stunt motorcyclist, but by night, he became an avenger of the damned, compelled to hunt and punish the wicked. But the cost of his power was unbearable—he had no control over his transformations, no chance for a normal life. Relationships, love, and even peaceful nights were all impossible for him.
Mephisto exploited Johnny's misery.
He whispered promises of freedom, of an escape from the curse. As the celestial convergence weakened Earth's mystical barriers, Mephisto convinced Johnny to renounce Zarathos, severing the bond between man and demon. But as soon as Zarathos was freed, Mephisto's plan took an unexpected turn.
The moment he emerged, the vengeful spirit turned on Mephisto.
Mephisto, already weakened, was devoured alive. Zarathos, whose hunger for powerful souls was insatiable, could not resist the taste of the former Devil King himself.
"Burp."
Zarathos, satisfied from consuming Mephisto's infernal essence, then turned his fiery gaze to another source of immense power—Ragna.
Even in his human form, Ragna's soul radiated a terrifying aura, laced with the echoes of countless lives he had taken. Though he did not kill out of malice, Zarathos did not distinguish between justice and sin—only power. And Ragna's soul, burning with the energy of fallen enemies, was beyond tempting.
"He is nearly as strong as a Skyfather," Ragna mused as he gauged Zarathos.
But the demon hesitated. Despite his hunger, he sensed something dangerous in Ragna, something even greater than the promise of devouring his soul. Caution took hold.
Instead of attacking, Zarathos simply acknowledged Ragna's presence with a silent nod before attempting to bypass him entirely. His priority was the human world, where billions of souls awaited consumption. Ragna, however, stepped forward and blocked his path.
The entire Earth's spiritual domain belonged to Ragna now—he would not allow Zarathos to feast on it unchecked.
Zarathos tilted his flaming skull, eyeing Ragna with intrigue. He did not sense the usual Spirit of Vengeance energy from him, which was strange. The Ghost Riders were created as weapons by the Celestials, designed specifically to oppose beings like Zarathos. But Ragna was something else entirely.
"I watched you devour Mephisto," Ragna said coolly. "Your power increased noticeably. Tell me—how does consuming souls make you stronger?"
Zarathos said nothing. Instead, he lashed out suddenly.
A blue-flamed chain shot toward Ragna, moving at lightning speed.
Blue fire?
Though the attack was incredibly fast, Ragna had anticipated it. He raised an arm to catch the chain—only to halt mid-motion, instincts screaming at him to retreat. In a flash, he dodged backward.
There was no heat.
This wasn't ordinary flame—it was a fire that burned the soul itself.
Ragna narrowed his eyes. Soul-burning flames…?
He retaliated immediately. Raising his scepter, he conjured golden divine fire, sending a blazing counterattack toward Zarathos.
Zarathos didn't even attempt to dodge. The golden flames consumed him—but only for a moment. His own blue infernal fire formed a barrier, preventing Ragna's divine flames from burning further. Moments later, the golden fire was completely extinguished.
Ragna frowned. He had underestimated Zarathos' resistance.
As he contemplated his next move, Zarathos finally broke his silence.
"I have analyzed the deep power within human souls," he declared, his voice echoing with eldritch resonance. "The essence of soul energy is beyond comprehension. If I gather enough, I will ascend to even greater power."
Ragna remained impassive, but his mind was working rapidly.
Zarathos continued.
"You need not worry—I will not devour all of humanity. They must remain, develop, thrive." He spread his arms, his infernal aura casting ominous shadows across the battlefield. "We can divide them equally. If you wish, I can even aid you in researching the secrets of the human soul."
Ragna's expression remained unreadable.
But in his mind, he was already deciding how to eliminate Zarathos completely.
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