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180 Target... Hell!
🕑 Added 2025-08-25 12:10:14 +0000 UTCThe dark shadow surrounding Chthon faded like flowing water, revealing a tall, muscular figure.
He wore a black, skin-tight uniform that left his chest exposed. A red magical belt was tied around his waist, and he wore long crimson gloves etched with strange patterns resembling closed eyes.
His silver hair shimmered faintly, and aside from a pair of glowing red eyes, his face and body looked almost entirely human.
Chthon descended slowly from mid-air, his expression playful.
"Tsk tsk… I thought you had been consumed along with the Dark Dimension."
"I didn’t expect you to be so fortunate."
Dormammu smirked and replied in a low, fiery voice:
"Don’t flatter yourself. I left the Dark Dimension before it collapsed. I can’t return there, which gave you your chance."
"This is my true body, not a projection."
"And that Scarlet Witch you corrupted in Timeline 5241—she killed my followers and stole power from the Dark Dimension through them. Don’t think I didn’t notice."
Upon confirming Dormammu’s identity, a flash of contempt crossed Chthon’s eyes.
Pathetic.
As expected of Mephisto’s only rival, he had been reduced to this.
Chthon looked Dormammu up and down, easily sensing the limits of his power, and smiled:
"You are still at the peak of your true form. If you can claim a suitable major dimension, you could rise again to full strength."
"Why not come to my Dark Magic Dimension? I can provide energy equal to the Dark Dimension itself. In return, all I ask is a few real worlds down the line."
"If you’re worried, we can even sign a contract."
Dormammu sneered.
"Don’t take me for a fool, Chthon.
We both know what kind of demon you are—just as you know what kind of demon I am. No need for lies."
Chthon sighed regretfully.
Dormammu still retained enough strength from his prime that this incarnation couldn’t overpower him.
Otherwise, bringing down a fallen Hell Lord would have been delightful.
Still smiling as though nothing had happened, Chthon continued:
"Then tell me—why summon me here? I don’t believe this was some accident."
He suspected Dormammu wanted an alliance to seize control of this timeline.
After all, without a dimension to feed on, even Dormammu’s true form couldn’t consume entire worlds.
Dormammu’s eyes glimmered with eagerness. He conjured a barrier of flame and whispered:
"Are you interested in a big deal?"
"Eternal…"
Before he could finish, Chthon grinned widely and interrupted:
"Of course. No problem at all. We split this world fifty-fifty. I won’t take advantage of you."
But Dormammu shook his head.
"What’s the point of a single timeline—especially one without true life?"
"I have a greater goal."
Chthon’s expression shifted, startled. He immediately realized what Dormammu meant and said quickly:
"You left a backup in the Dark Dimension?"
"If we can kill that one… the harvest would be unimaginable!"
Hearing this, Dormammu showed a trace of embarrassment on his face.
Shuma-Gorath immediately looked incredulous and called out from a distance:
"You don’t even have a back-up plan in your own dimension?"
He felt that he needed to re-examine the intelligence of this so-called Lord of the Dark Dimension.
If I had known that such a cheap trick could fool the former ruler of the Dark Dimension, I would have tried it myself back then.
At this moment, Shuma-Gorath regretted it deeply.
Dormammu ignored the jab and went straight to the point:
"Forget about that hateful Asgardian. My goal is far greater than his!"
"The Dark Dimension has already been drained of too much energy by those Sorcerer Supremes. How can it compare to Hell?"
Shuma-Gorath froze for a moment, then looked at him as if he were a complete idiot.
"Goodbye."
Dormammu seized the unconscious Doctor Strange and turned to leave the temple.
Insane.
If I want to start a dimensional war, would I really need your help?
He truly is a fool—and worse, he thinks everyone else is just as foolish.
But then, from behind, came a faint voice:
"What if he’s already been fooled?"
Shuma-Gorath snapped his gaze back.
"Who’s there?"
Hell was not a conventional world but rather a fusion of overlapping dimensions, each ruled by its own lord.
Lucifer. Shuma-Gorath. Hades. Mephisto.
Even Dormammu, when counted among the great devils, was once a contender for the title of Satan.
Dormammu smirked darkly.
"Can’t you guess? After all, he’s the one who loves seducing others the most—and the one who’s most easily swayed. Isn’t he?"
In Hell.
Atop a crimson pillar that stretched into the sky, Mephisto studied the new ruler of Hell’s borderlands with interest.
The oppressive aura pressed down on him so heavily that sweat beaded across his forehead.
Beside him, souls burning in the hellfire wailed again and again—nine hundred and ninety-nine cries of agony—before the suffocating pressure finally lifted.
The figure grinned, flashing a terrifying smile.
"So… it was that useless Dormammu who sent you here?"
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