Multiverse's Ghost Rider

"Bloody hell!" Mecca growled through clenched teeth as he stormed out of the stone chamber. "That arrogant little punk... how dare he... how dare he!"

He glanced down the path leading to the cave's exit. In the distance, Viola was locked in combat with the monstrous minions of Belith.

"There she is, Belith' sworn enemy. If I can eliminate her, then perhaps Lady Belith will finally look upon me with favor!" Mecca resolved, marching toward the fray, conveniently forgetting Belith' explicit order not to reveal himself in Viola's presence.

***

Back inside the chamber, Belith chuckled seductively. "Interesting. You're the first man to speak to me like that. And to think Viola, with her oh-so-innocent demeanor, would hatch such a clever scheme. How about I make you an even better offer? Side with me, and I won't just grant any wish you ask for, I'll hand Viola over to you. Do with her as you please."

She clearly misunderstood Jon's intentions. From her perspective, this was a lucrative deal, two rewards for the price of one.

But Jon shook his head. "You misunderstood. When she said she'd give you to me, she didn't mean your body. She meant your soul. And I have no interest in Viola's soul. Only yours."

He leaned forward slightly, his voice calm and resolute. "All I ask in return is to reclaim the portion of Pinocchio's soul you've taken. A soul for a soul."

Belith' expression darkened. Though she couldn't discern exactly why Jon wanted her soul, she knew well the value of it. For witches, the soul was everything, the source of their magic and strength. It was unthinkable to give it up.

"I see," she murmured. "Then I suppose our negotiations have failed."

Jon shrugged. "You thought this was a negotiation? I just wanted to see what tricks you had up your sleeve. Killing time, that's all."

Unfazed, Belith gave a sly smile. "That's a shame. I was hoping you'd submit willingly. But it seems you're the rougher type."

"Wait... did you drug the wine?" Jon asked, raising his glass again and taking another sip.

Belith blinked, momentarily caught off guard.

"You don't need to look so surprised," Jon continued. "When a beautiful woman suddenly appears with a romantic dinner setup, offering drinks? Usually it means one of two things: either I'm irresistibly charming, or I'm walking into a trap. So I figured, why not both?"

He shamelessly downed another sip of the wine.

Belith stared at him for a moment, then burst into laughter. "You knew, and you still drank it? Seems you really are into the rough treatment."

"No, you just underestimated the dosage," Jon said flatly. "This amount? I take more than this just to relax."

Her smile vanished. The potion she had crafted was strong enough to knock out a bull with a single drop. She had poured in an entire packet. And yet, he treated it like candy?

Still, she calmed herself. She had a Plan B.

Beneath the table, she snapped her fingers quietly. A cloud of black mist formed behind Jon, silently morphing into a towering, one-eyed shadow giant.

Her gaze darkened. "You may be clever, but you're no match for me."

But before the beast could make its move, Jon casually raised a hand and flicked a fireball of hellfire over his shoulder.

The infernal flame struck the creature squarely, incinerating it in a burst of screaming darkness.

"Sorry, what were you saying?" Jon asked, still sipping his wine.

Belith paled, stumbling backward in shock.

She didn't know: witches in this world couldn't command such shadow creatures. The one-eyed giants were beings of darkness, antithetical to witchkind. To control one was a monumental task, and to kill one, nearly impossible, even for a powerful witch.

Yet this man had incinerated it like it was nothing.

Mecca, her aide from the Voidborn clan, had warned her. His people were nurtured by sin itself, and the more sinful their target, the stronger they became. But even he had confessed to feeling genuine fear in Jon's presence. That had convinced Belith that Jon was no ordinary foe, possibly on par with, or even beyond, a witch. Unrestricted by their limits.

Now, she realized, she'd vastly underestimated him.

She regretted ever bringing him here. If she had treated this as a direct confrontation from the beginning, perhaps she'd have noticed his terrifying power during the fight, and found a way to escape.

But now, he sat calmly before her, casually enjoying his wine.

What would he do once he claimed her soul? Would he torment it? Twist it for amusement?

No. She couldn't let that happen.

Her eyes narrowed.

Now was her only chance.

She lunged from her seat, both palms surging with pitch-black energy. The power erupted like a storm, slamming Jon with brutal force and sending him crashing into the stone wall.

"Got him!" Belith gasped in relief, a triumphant smile forming, only to freeze the next moment.

The dark energy held Jon pinned to the wall. Then flames burst to life around him, devouring his flesh and blood, revealing a flaming skeleton underneath.

"…the hell?!"

Belith staggered back, terror etched across her beautiful face.

The Spirit of Vengeance had awakened.

The Ghost Rider was no longer restrained by her magic. Step by step, he walked forward, wreathed in hellfire.

"The time for judgment," he growled, voice low and thunderous, "has come."

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