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"Army or not, you must realize... You are doomed!"
- General Grievous (Star Wars)
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<(Atem POV)>
Finding the so-called ruler of Hell momentarily bewildered by our presence, Victor was the first to seize the opportunity to speak, his voice monotonously flat like always.
"Mephisto," he began, "I am Doctor Victor Werner Von Doom, sovereign of the great country of Latveria. I have come before you once more to demand a battle for my mother's soul. Accept my challenge and..."
Mephisto interrupted with a dry chuckle, his fanged grin stretching wide. "Yes, yes, I know all that already. No need to drone on like some broken record every damn year. Honestly, do you ever tire of your own voice? Hah! You must have a rod so far up your ass it's practically a part of you. Hahahahahaha." His laughter echoed through the hellish throne room, but it vanished just as quickly as it came.
The very next moment, his crimson features hardened, and his eyes narrowed with a dangerous glint as he slowly rose from his throne. A flowing cape, the exact shade of his infernal red skin, materialized behind him, billowing as if caught in an invisible breeze before, finally, his gaze locked onto mine with a cold, simmering fury.
"But what I really want to know, Lady Hela, is why you're here... and why you're standing beside him." His voice dripped with venom as he jabbed a clawed finger in my direction. "He is the one who slaughtered my son, Blackheart, back on Earth. He even struck down Azazel—one of my most loyal followers on Earth. So, tell me, Death Queen... do you intend to declare war against me, a fellow Hell Lord?"
"Me? Oh no, of course not. Why would I ever declare war on a fellow Hell Lord?" Hela's lips curved into a small smile, her tone almost playful. "After all, was it not you who once declared, centuries ago, that all of us—save for Dormammu—stand on nearly equal footing? By your own admission, a battle between us would yield no true victor or benefits, only costly sacrifices." She said with a sharp glint in her eyes before tilting her head as if considering the notion. "No, I am merely here to observe... and, of course, to be entertained. After all, watching a charming young god challenge the Lord of Sin himself? That promises to be quite the spectacle." She shrugged, feigning innocence.
Mephisto let out a low, guttural growl, a sound that carried the illusion of acceptance. But of course, no one in the room was foolish enough to believe he had taken Hela's words at face value. The Lord of Hell was far too cunning, too insidious to be deceived so easily. No, he had likely already figured out our intentions—now he was simply biding his time, waiting for the perfect moment to twist the situation in his favor.
"A challenge, is it?" His lips curled into a smirk. "Seems too many people for just one challenge, don't you think? But I suppose the spell circle at the battle royale must have recognized you all as a... team. Yes, that would explain why it allowed all of you into my palace at the same time. An oversight I'll have to correct... can't have that happening again." His smirk widened. "After all, watching allies and friends slaughter each other just for the chance to challenge me would be far more entertaining than dealing with multiple challengers at once." He chuckled darkly before his gaze snapped back to me, his expression darkening.
"And you..." His voice was laced with pure malice. "Ever since you killed my son, I've been trying to track you down. Yet until this moment, you always somehow managed to remain beyond my senses. A high-level concealment spell, perhaps." He guessed, his claws clenching into a fist. "But now..." His smile turned predatory. "Now that you stand before me, I will make certain you don't leave my palace alive, little fledgling god." He spat the last word like venom, two literal balls of fire staring at me, burning where his eyeballs should have been.
