For a moment, Mary Jane could only stare in horror as Goliath repeatedly slammed his hand into the mass of unrecognizable pulp that had been Bart Hamilton a few moments ago.
The Goblin had been soundly beaten, but the giant was now attracting a lot of unwanted attention. Dozens of demonic minions came swarming towards the scientist, who smashed one after another with animal ferocity. Mary Jane watched as Pym led the army of creatures away from her.
She stood for a few moments, staring across the empty wasteland.
The smell of sulfur and the sting of dirt blowing in her face, sensations she had formerly barely noticed, now seemed overpowering. It was all up to her now. She was alone in Hell now with no weapons and no guide.
No guide.
Mary Jane knew she was about to take a great risk. At the same time, she felt an overwhelming sense of urgency.
"Lord Belial!" she shouted into the blowing wind. "Are you true to your word or not?"
There was silence for several long seconds, and Mary Jane started to despair. Then she heard the approaching sound of hoofbeats. The orange satyr galloped upon her, smiling balefully.
"Madam," he said. "You insult my honor. The power of any creature of the netherworld hinges on the truth of our oaths. I pledged to be your guide, and as long as you adhere to the terms of our deal, so shall I."
"Do you know the third force that anchors Harry's soul to this place?" Mary Jane asked.
"I do indeed. And I shall guide you there, my lady. But I warn you, the power of the last demon dwarfs the combined might of myself and the Goblin. Without Goliath, there is no chance you will prevail against him."
Mary Jane put a hand on her hip. "Lord Belial, I don't remember asking for your opinion."
The demon bristled. "All right, Red. Whatever you say." He turned and trotted off. "Follow me."
It felt like they had been walking for hours. Mary Jane had no way to measure time. She was beginning to wonder if Belial was leading her in circles until they finally came upon something that looked wholly out of place.
In the midst of the desert wasteland was an oasis, with green trees and bushes growing around a small lake. In the middle was a colonial-style mansion, spotless and elegant.
"What is this place?" she asked.
A smooth, deep voice sounded ahead of her. "This is my home. Welcome."
A tall, broad-shouldered, impossibly handsome man walked out of the front yard. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored outfit that accented his well-muscled physique. In spite of herself, Mary Jane sucked in a breath.
The man took her hand as if to shake it, then planted a kiss on it.
"Who are you?" she asked shakily.
"You may call me Marcus," he said. "And what is the word for the charming creature who has wandered onto my property?"
Remembering Pym's warning about the power of names, Mary Jane introduced herself with the first false name that sprang to mind. "Janet," she said. "Janet Van Dyne."
"Enchanted, Ms. Van Dyne," Marcus said. "You must be tired from your journey. Please, take some rest. Perhaps when you have fully recovered, you can join me for dinner."
Belial pushed in between them, shaking Marcus's hand furiously. "That would be lovely. We would find that lovely."
Marcus cast a spiteful glance at the satyr. "Your…companion is, of course, welcome to join us."
"Great. Fantastic." Belial grabbed Mary Jane's shoulder and led her toward the house. "Come on, Red. Let's find the commode."