Marvel: The Enlightened One#145+146: The Contract of San Venganza is the Key to the War, I Am Darkness Itself—Why Would I Need to Fall?

The Fire Demon, Salamakk, was completely submerged in the molten lava.

The intense heat was comforting to him.

He raised his head from the magma, the mocking laughter from a moment ago still echoing through the volcano. A sneer was still plastered on his face.

The next second, a black shadow appeared at the mouth of the crater above. With a trail of billowing smoke, it descended at incredible speed and landed with a soft thud on a large rock jutting out of the lava.

Hawk straightened up, his feet planted firmly on the stone, and looked at the swimming demon with a completely blank expression.

The moment Salamakk saw Hawk, the smile on his face vanished, seemingly reappearing on Hawk's.

Hawk smiled faintly at the demon. “I’m down here. Now what?”

GULP.

Salamakk instinctively swallowed a mouthful of lava.

The next second, two pillars of fire erupted from the magma. Like a graceful mermaid, Salamakk leaped high into the air and, with a furious roar, hurled the two fire columns at the rock where Hawk was standing.

BOOOOOOOOOOM!

The boulder Hawk had been standing on instantly melted under the twin assault, dissolving back into the magma below.

Salamakk's eyes went wide. Hawk was still there, hovering in the air.

He realized something was very, very wrong.

Salamakk sank back into the lava, gathering his energy as he stared up at the levitating figure.

"Who are you?"

"Hawk."

"The Wind and Earth demons… what did you do to them?"

"Nothing. I just asked them to help me with something. The same way you're about to help me with something."

"......"

Salamakk's burning heart skipped a beat at Hawk's casual reply.

He had already suspected as much. But he couldn't help but cling to one last shred of hope as he asked his final question.

"Help you… with what?"

"Help me train."

"FUCK!"

At those words, Salamakk felt his very essence recoil in terror. A wave of absolute cold shot up from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head.

Realizing that Hawk had already stolen the essences of his brothers and was now here for his—Salamakk roared—The volcano erupted as he launched a barrage of fireballs from the magma, all of them streaking toward Hawk.

Hawk's expression remained unchanged as his body flickered in and out of existence, effortlessly dodging the assault.

When the last of the fireballs had dissipated, Hawk reappeared in the exact same spot, looking down at the Fire Demon, who was half-submerged in the lava. "Too slow."

The title 'Creation Elemental' certainly sounded impressive.

But their actual power was mediocre at best—about on par with a common demon. If it were the Hell Witch here instead, she could probably take any one of them down, as long as they didn't team up against her.

And Hawk was on a completely different level.

So, Hawk looked at Salamakk and said, with complete sincerity, "Make this easy on yourself, and I'll make it quick for you. I promise it will be a peaceful death."

Hearing this, Salamakk's teeth began to grind.

"You think you've already won?"

"Don't you??"

Hawk shot back without a moment's thought. He then looked at him with a serious expression. "Where did you get the impression that I couldn't? Tell me. I'm curious."

Salamakk was utterly enraged.

WHOOSH!

He shot up from the lava and unleashed the full force of the energy he had been gathering. “You want my essence?! FINE! TAKE IT! LET’S SEE IF YOU CAN HANDLE IT!”

At those words, Hawk's eyes lit up.

Well, this was a surprise.

He thought Salamakk might have had some ace up his sleeve, like a secret escape tunnel at the bottom of the volcano.

If that were the case, Hawk would have hesitated to dive in.

After all, he wasn't a very good swimmer. But he had never expected the Fire Demon's ultimate move would be to willingly feed him his power.

Well... It would be rude to refuse.

Hawk smiled. The instant he ignited his Cosmo, the phantom of the Phoenix appeared behind him, its cry echoing through the volcanic chamber.

The Phoenix spread its wings, and a projection of Hawk's Cosmo, shimmering with countless nebulae, materialized around it.

BOOOOM!

BOOOOM!

BOOOOM!

Salamakk's energy poured into Hawk's Cosmo, which absorbed every last drop, leaving nothing behind.

Hawk closed his eyes, enjoying the pleasant warmth spreading through him.

As for Salamakk…

He clenched his teeth, beads of molten sweat dripping from his brow. But he held on. He didn't believe it. He refused to believe that anyone—after devouring the Wind and Earth Elementals—would have room left to devour him.

"Who the hell do you think you are!?"

"BREAK!!" Salamakk roared, pushing his energy to its absolute limit, trying to overload him.

The next second, he turned to flee.

But the very instant he tried to escape, the cry of the Phoenix ripped through the air. With a squelch—Salamakk looked down in horror to see that the Phoenix phantom had snatched him in its massive talons.

"Let me go!"

"Let me go, now!"

"Aaaah!"

"LET ME GO!"

Salamakk shrieked in terror as he felt his own essence being drained away at an impossible rate.

Hawk, his eyes still closed as if savoring the warmth, ignored his pleas completely.

He should have surrendered earlier when he was offered a quick end. Did he think this was a game?

This was a war for dominion. And in a war like this, there is no mercy, only victory or annihilation.

Hawk’s expression was placid as he burned his Cosmo, draining the Fire Demon dry. Salamakk's screams grew weaker and weaker, his fiery body looking desiccated and thin.

With one final, dying spark, the Fire Demon was completely consumed by the Phoenix phantom, his form vanishing from its grasp.

...

Within Hawk's Cosmo.

The Element of Fire instantly merged with the swirling nebula of wind and earth.

And with the addition of fire, the swirling sands, which had refused to coalesce, were now superheated, glowing a brilliant red as they finally began to fuse.

At the same time. A new Phoenix phantom, no longer crimson but forged of absolute darkness, appeared within this burgeoning world.

But it wasn't over. One final element was missing.

Water.

Without the element of water, this first true planet within his Cosmo would forever remain a burning, molten sphere. Only with the addition of water could this impossibly hot world cool and become a true, physical planet.

One more to go.

As Hawk flew out of the volcano and landed softly on the ground below, he didn't immediately set out to find the Water Demon. He closed his eyes.

Just now, after his Cosmo had fully absorbed the Earth Element, the Phoenix Heart had transferred a portion of Gressil's memories to him.

And those memories were of Blackheart's meeting with the Earth Demon, of his invitation to the Four Elementals to join him in his grand ambition: to create a new Hell Dimension of their own.

These memories confirmed something for Hawk.

Well, I’ll be damned.

He had originally assumed that Mephisto's story was at best, a half-truth. He never thought…

Blackheart wasn't some eternal crown prince tired of waiting; he had seen an opportunity to break away, start his own empire with the Elementals, and challenge his father for the throne in a classic palace coup.

As for the story that Blackheart had been manipulated by Hela of Hel? Complete and utter bullshit.

Considering that Hela only came out of hiding after Odin actually died, it meant even a dying Odin's seal still held her. So how could Hela have possibly found a way to influence Blackheart during some convergence of the Nine Realms?

Most importantly, he had been there during the Convergence. He had seen it with his own eyes. Under Odin's power, Hel hadn't even managed to make a ripple before Odin had elegantly concealed it once more.

That meant Odin's seal on Hela was rock solid.

And so, Hawk had suspected all along that Mephisto was lying, that he was just trying to lure him to Texas.

But he had only suspected a half-lie. He never imagined that the old devil hadn't told him a single truthful word.

Truly the King of Demons. He could tell a thousand lies, and not one of them would be the truth.

No, wait.

There was one truth.

Blackheart really was trying to build his own kingdom. Hawk recalled Gressil's memory of Blackheart laying out his business plan.

Blackheart had the power over life and death. The Four Elementals could create a world.

And they had the Contract of San Venganza!

With those three things, they would have the power to launch a coup against Mephisto for control of Earth's souls, just as Mephisto had once waged war against Heaven.

So—

There really was a dimension of Heaven on Earth at one point, but it was driven away by Mephisto?

But that wasn't the important part.

The important part was—with the Contract of San Venganza in hand, one could challenge Mephisto for the right to claim Earth's souls.

<><><><><><><><>

About fifty kilometers north of Fort Stockton stood a small cemetery marked by a weathered cross.

The caretaker—a man who looked well past fifty with one foot already in the grave, woke from a lazy afternoon nap. Hearing noises from somewhere in the cemetery, the caretaker climbed out of bed, pushed open his door, and stepped outside.

What he saw stopped him cold.

Not far from his small cabin, a young man dressed only in a black t-shirt—apparently unbothered by the winter chill—was digging a hole with a shovel, his back turned to the caretaker.

The caretaker let out a short laugh.

“This here’s a free cemetery, son. No need to be sneaky about your digging.”

"..."

Hawk paused mid-dig. Still holding the shovel, he turned to face the old man walking toward him and offered a faint smile.

"I wasn't sneaking. When I got here, you were asleep. Didn't want to be rude and wake you. And I'm not digging a grave."

"Is that so?"

The caretaker didn't believe a word of it. He looked at Hawk with an amused expression. "Then what exactly are you doing?"

Hawk smiled, his gaze dropping to the shovel in his hands.

"I need a shovel at home. Saw this one lying around, figured I'd test it out—see how sharp it is. Works great, actually. Think I'll take it with me."

"..."

The smile vanished from the caretaker's face so fast it was almost audible.

A second later, The cloudiness in his eyes cleared, replaced by a sharp, piercing focus. Even his voice lost its frail, elderly rasp, becoming something far younger and more dangerous.

In fact... If you looked closely, you would see two small flames flickering to life deep in his pupils—burning a bright, sulfurous yellow.

His name was Carter Slade.

And he was the first man to sign a contract with Mephisto, the first to bond with the Spirit of Vengeance—the original Ghost Rider from over a hundred and fifty years ago.

Back then, Carter Slade had fallen for Mephisto's promises. He'd signed away his soul, becoming the demon's personal debt collector. After he'd been sent to the town of San Venganza to "collect" on the souls of its inhabitants, the guilt had driven him to flee Mephisto's control. He'd taken the Contract of San Venganza—containing hundreds of damned souls—and hidden himself here, building a free cemetery as penance for his sins.

The contract itself was hidden inside the most ordinary object imaginable.

A shovel.

The very one Hawk was now holding.

Carter Slade's expression turned deadly serious as he stared at Hawk.

"Demon?"

"No."

Hawk smiled and shook his head. He hefted the shovel in his hands, then looked back at Carter. "But a demon's about to show up. Since you're retired, how about you stay retired? Give me what's inside this thing, and I'll handle Blackheart when he gets here. Deal?"

He could tell that Carter Slade still had the power to transform into the Ghost Rider.

But—

It would be his last transformation.

If Carter didn't use it, the remaining energy in his body would keep him alive for a good while longer.

But if he transformed one final time, the moment that energy burned out would be the moment his soul returned to Hell.

And given the fact that Carter had tricked Mephisto—faked his own death, stolen the Contract of San Venganza, and hidden right under the Lord of Hell's nose for all these years—the second Mephisto found out...

Heh.

Carter was going to have a very bad time.

Hawk was a kind soul. He didn't like seeing people suffer. And so, he was offering Carter Slade a fair deal.

...

As expected, the moment Carter heard Hawk say Blackheart's name, his face went pale.

"Blackheart."

As the original Ghost Rider, Carter knew the Demons of Hell inside and out.

Blackheart might not be the most powerful demon in Hell's dimension, but his background was untouchable.

Because his father was Mephisto.

Blackheart was supposedly the result of a union between Mephisto and a human dark witch. And because of his heritage, even while walking the Earth, Blackheart retained formidable magical power.

Carter was stunned. "How does he know I'm here?"

"Seriously?"

Hawk couldn't help but scoff. His gaze swept across the cemetery, lingering on the dozens of gravestones, then settled on the cross mounted above the cabin door.

"You didn't actually think slapping a cross on your building would keep the souls buried here out of Hell, did you?"

When Sharon had helped him track down Carter Slade's cemetery, Hawk had been curious how Blackheart had managed to find the old Ghost Rider after all these years.

Until he saw the cemetery. And all those graves.

Playing the "hide in plain sight" card was one thing, but taking it this far? Hawk genuinely couldn't tell if Carter Slade was insanely confident or just insanely lucky.

Now, hearing Carter's confused question, Hawk had his answer.

He let out a long, weary sigh and shook his head. "You've survived this long because Mephisto is blind. That's the only explanation."

Carter finally understood. He stared at the gravestones around him, his expression twisting into something unreadable.

He didn't argue. He couldn't.

Because it was the truth. Now that Hawk had pointed it out, Carter realized it himself—the only reason he was still alive was because Mephisto had somehow missed the obvious.

Carter looked at Hawk. "Can I ask why you want the Contract of San Venganza?"

Hawk shrugged. "Haven't decided yet. But if it's a trade, there's got to be payment. Fair's fair, right?"

Carter nodded.

"Right."

"So, we have a deal. I handle Blackheart when he gets here, and the contract's mine."

"..." Carter thought it over, glanced at Hawk one more time, then nodded. "Deal."

Not that he had much choice.

The Contract of San Venganza was already in Hawk's hands. And Carter only had one transformation left. If he used it, his soul would go straight to Hell the moment it ended.

And just thinking about what Mephisto would do to him when he showed up...

Carter suppressed a shudder.

Most importantly, he'd already confirmed that Hawk wasn't a demon.

That was enough.

Seeing Carter's agreement, Hawk's face broke into a wide grin. Then he glanced toward the horizon, where the sun was sinking low, and felt two powerful presences rapidly closing in. "Alright. Time for you to go inside and close the door."

Carter didn't hesitate. He turned, walked into his cabin, and slammed the door shut behind him.

In one smooth motion.

THUD!

Hawk watched the door rattle on its hinges, a small cloud of dust shaking loose from the frame. He chuckled softly.

A second later, the wooden handle of the shovel cracked. Splinters flew. And there, in Hawk's hand, was an ancient scroll of parchment.

The Contract of San Venganza.

Sealed within it were the souls of over a thousand damned—men who had once made deals with Mephisto, only to have the first Ghost Rider sent to collect.

And these weren’t just any souls.

The Contract of San Venganza contained the corrupted souls of fallen saints—men who had once been devout people, their hearts turned toward Heaven, only to be twisted and seduced by Mephisto into darkness.

As everyone knows, the redeemed are weak, but the fallen are strong.

These people, once devoted to the light, had become something far more dangerous after their fall.

They were no longer saints. They were corrupted saints.

A single one of their twisted souls carried the power of a hundred—maybe even a thousand—normal human souls.

And there were over a thousand of them sealed in this contract.

No wonder Blackheart had been so confident. With the Contract of San Venganza in his possession, he could create a brand-new Hell Dimension and challenge Mephisto for control of Earth's souls.

As Hawk held the scroll, he could feel it—the presence of over a thousand malevolent souls, screaming and howling inside their prison.

They reached out to him, their voices slithering through the seal, whispering in his mind.

"Come."

"Join us."

"Fall into the darkness with us."

"Taste the sweetness of it. Let it consume you."

"Come with us!"

The voices were everywhere, a chorus of seduction and madness, each one trying to drag Hawk down with them—into the abyss, into corruption, into darkness itself.

But—

Fall into darkness? Hah... Does darkness require a fall?

'I can be the light. But i can also be the darkness.'

And so, why would he need to fall?

A mocking smile spread across Hawk’s lips as the tempting whispers of the thousand souls filled his mind.

And then, all at once, the Contract of San Venganza went silent.

The souls inside felt it—a darkness far deeper, far more absolute than anything they could ever hope to reach.

...