Hey guys i thought of the same i had this idea on the back pocket and i wanna try it, dont worry i wont give up on luthors damnation. I am slowing down on chapters due to life so enjoy this new story
Across the vast multiverse, countless threats have risen to challenge the forces of good. From the devastating power of mad titans who seek to reshape existence, to the cunning manipulations of gods of mischief who twist fate to their whims. From the cold, unfeeling calculations of evil robots bent on extermination, to the relentless ambition of time-traveling conquerors who rewrite history itself. Yet, among all these fearsome adversaries, one stands above the rest—not for his sheer might, but for his unmatched brilliance, indomitable will, and the iron grip with which he rules his domain.
This is none other than Doctor Victor Von Doom, the monarch of Latveria. A man of unparalleled intellect and mastery of both science and sorcery, Doom's name strikes fear into the hearts of heroes and villains alike. His genius is matched only by his arrogance, and his quest for ultimate power is driven by an unshakable belief that only he is worthy to lead. To Doom, the world is his to command, and woe to those who dare stand in his way.
However, there is one thing that few truly understand about Doctor Doom. Beneath his unyielding armor and towering intellect lies a deeply personal, tragic crusade. Before he ascended to the throne of Latveria, his mother, Cynthia Von Doom, fell victim to the dark arts she once practiced and was damned to Hell. Every year, Doom braves the infernal realms in a desperate attempt to free her soul. He has faced countless failures, his plans crumbling before Hell's insurmountable forces.
But this time, things will be different.
Standing in his laboratory, Doom activates a portal, its swirling energy crackling with power. On the other side lies Hell itself—Pentagram City, engulfed in chaos during the annual Extermination. Angels descend from Heaven, systematically eradicating demons, their holy weapons gleaming against the crimson skyline. Yet to Doom, they are nothing more than insignificant obstacles.
As he strides into the infernal battlefield, his presence radiates an aura of authority so commanding that even demons instinctively scatter. One angel, however, dares to confront him.
"Hey, asshole!" Adam, the leader of the exterminators, lands before Doom, his spear at the ready. "Where do you think you're going?"
Doom halts, his voice cold and dismissive. "My quarrel is not with you, Adam. Stand aside. I know exactly who you are, and I've never met such a disappointment in my life."
"Disappointment?" Adam yelled Before he can respond, Doom moves with terrifying speed. He grabs the angel by the throat, slamming him into the ground with enough force to crack the earth beneath them. Without hesitation, Doom grabbed adams spear and impales Adam through the head, killing him instantly. He doesn't spare the fallen angel a second glance.
"No!" Lute, another angel, cries out in fury as she descends, her sword glowing with divine wrath. She charges at Doom, but he is prepared. With a gesture, Doom conjures ropes blessed with holy enchantments, ensnaring her mid-air. Her struggles are futile as Doom opens a portal, dragging her helpless form through it to Castle Doom.
"You'll make a fine subject for experimentation," Doom states, his tone devoid of empathy.
The remaining angels hover in stunned silence, their resolve crumbling under the weight of Doom's dominance. He turns to face them, his piercing gaze a silent challenge.
"Any further objections?" he asks, his voice calm yet menacing.
Terrified, the angels retreat, fleeing back to Heaven without another word. Doom watches them go, his confidence unshaken. His path to reclaim his mother's soul is clear, and nothing in Hell—or Heaven—will stand in his way.
In the grand palace of Hell, Lucifer and Lilith Morningstar, the king and queen of the underworld, sat in their throne room. For the first time in centuries, they noticed something unusual about their realm. Hell was too quiet. Normally, the cacophony of screams, laughter, and chaos was unending, but now there was an eerie silence that hung over the city like a shroud.
Lucifer sighed, rubbing his temples as a foreboding sensation crept over him. "Oh, bother. He's back," he muttered, exasperation laced in his tone.
The heavy doors of the throne room groaned as they swung open, revealing the armored figure of Doctor Doom. His cape billowed as he strode forward with unyielding purpose, his very presence commanding the room.
"Victor, good to see you," Lucifer greeted dryly, leaning back on his throne with feigned nonchalance.
"Cynthia Von Doom," Doom said coldly, his voice reverberating through the chamber. "Where is she?"
Lilith glanced at Lucifer before answering, her voice laced with mock sympathy. "Our apologies, Victor, but apparently those angels out there—the Exterminators—killed her seven months ago."
For a moment, there was silence. Then, Doom's rage became palpable, even behind the impassive mask. His voice dropped to a low, guttural chant as he spoke in an ancient, eldritch tongue. The air around him grew heavy with dark energy, and the ground beneath their feet trembled.
The palace itself began to quake violently as roots, twisted and gnarled with malevolent power, erupted from the ground. They tore through the walls, coiling around the throne and ensnaring both Lucifer and Lilith.
Lucifer groaned, struggling against the roots as they tightened. "Let me guess—the Darkhold?" he asked, rolling his eyes. "I knew Chthon was hiding secrets in that damned book."
Doom raised his hand, summoning the Darkhold into his grasp. The ancient tome materialized, radiating an aura of forbidden power. Flipping through its pages, Doom's eyes narrowed. "There are pages missing," he stated coldly.
Lucifer smirked despite his predicament. "Oh, yeah. I ripped them out. Chthon knew too much, so I decided to... edit his work."
As Doom's gaze shifted, he noticed something peeking out of Lucifer's pocket—a photograph. He retrieved it, examining the image of Lucifer, Lilith, and their daughter, Charlie, smiling together.
"Perhaps I should be more persuasive," Doom mused, his voice as calm as ever.
Lucifer's demeanor changed instantly, his smirk replaced by genuine alarm. "Doom, don't you understand? You can't win! Don't you dare touch her!"
Doom tilted his head mockingly. "Like this?" He extended a gloved finger, pressing it against Lucifer's forehead. The moment contact was made, Lucifer screamed in agony, his flesh burning beneath the touch. Doom finally pulled back, leaving the king of Hell panting in pain.
Lilith, struggling against the roots, glared at Doom. "What the hell did you put in that suit?" she demanded.
Doom turned his gaze to her, his voice clinical. "The fabric woven into my armor is made from the wood of a cross I acquired during my time travel to Jerusalem, 33 AD."
Lucifer's eyes widened in shock. "You wove the cross of Jesus Christ into your armor?"
Doom nodded with chilling precision. "One of many precautions I have taken against demons... and, as it seems, angels as well."
"But no matter," Doom continued, turning his back on the entangled rulers. He began to leave, his cape trailing behind him.
"DOOM! Doom!" Lucifer roared, struggling against his bindings.
But Doom did not stop, his mind already calculating his next move. Nothing would stand in the way of his mission—not Hell, not Heaven, and certainly not the Morningstars.
Lucifer gritted his teeth, frustration and desperation surging within him. "Shit, I haven't done this in a long time, but I guess here it goes," he muttered. Closing his eyes, he summoned his ancient ability: astral vision. His consciousness extended across Hell, seeking a demon who could aid his daughter.
In the grand study of his estate, Stolas of the Ars Goetia was poring over a set of celestial charts when the voice of the King of Hell boomed in his mind.
"Stolas!"
"Ahhh!" Stolas shrieked, nearly toppling his chair. His feathers fluffed in panic as he scanned the room. "Your Majesty? Are you... here?"
Lucifer's voice echoed, laced with urgency. "I'm using astral vision. Look, I don't care about your divorce or how you're misusing the grimoire, but one thing is certain: I need you to find my daughter and her friends and get them out of Hell. Victor Von Doom is taking over!"
Stolas froze, the weight of Lucifer's words sinking in. "Victor Von Doom?" he stammered.
"Yes! Now move! There's no time!"
Stolas scrambled to his feet, nearly knocking over his desk. Grabbing his grimoire, he rushed out of his office without hesitation. Lucifer's voice lingered in his mind as he fled, his command echoing like a dire prophecy.
Back in the throne room, Lucifer opened his eyes, bound but resolute. He could only hope that Stolas would act swiftly, that his daughter and her friends would find safety. As the roots tightened around him and Lilith, he glared in the direction Doom had gone, his mind racing with ways to stop the unstoppable.
"Stay safe, Charlie," Lucifer whispered.
In the Hazbin Hotel's main lobby, Charlie stood before her friends—Vaggie, Angel Dust, Alastor, Husk, and Nifty. Her hopeful demeanor radiated as she clapped her hands together, addressing the group.
"Okay, I feel like we need to stick to the plan this time. We've got to do everything we can to prevent the next extermination. I'm sure of it!" Charlie's optimism shone like a beacon in the dimly lit room.
Vaggie placed a gentle hand on Charlie's shoulder, her tone soft but firm. "I know it's hard, hun, but maybe we should ease up a little. You've been stressing yourself out over this nonstop."
Before Charlie could respond, Angel Dust's voice cut through the room. "Uh, guys?" he called, his eyes glued to the flickering TV screen mounted on the wall. "You might wanna see this."
Everyone turned their attention to the television. The screen displayed a live feed from Pentagram City, showing the chaos of the extermination. But what caught their attention was the towering figure of Doctor Doom, effortlessly dispatching Adam, one of the angelic exterminators. Doom grabbed Adam, slammed him to the ground, and impaled him through the head without hesitation.
"The fuck is that?" Angel Dust exclaimed, pointing at the screen.
Charlie's eyes widened in shock as she recognized the armored figure. "Victor…" she whispered, her voice trembling.
"Victor? You know that guy?" Husk asked, raising an eyebrow as he sipped his drink.
Charlie nodded, her voice breaking as she explained. "My father told me about him. Doctor Victor Von Doom. He's the ruler of Latveria in the living world… but he's not like anyone else. He's fought gods, titans, even time itself."
"So, what's he doing here?" Alastor asked, his curiosity piqued, though his usual sinister grin was absent for once.
Charlie's face paled as she realized the gravity of the situation. "He vowed to fight through all seven rings of Hell to save his mother's soul. But... this doesn't make sense. Why is he attacking now? What is he doing in Pentagram City during the extermination?"
The group exchanged uneasy glances, the gravity of Doom's presence sinking in. Charlie's optimism dimmed as a foreboding sense of dread crept over her.
The group exchanged uneasy glances, the gravity of Doom's presence sinking in. Charlie's optimism dimmed as a foreboding sense of dread crept over her. Before anyone could speak, there was a loud knock at the door.
Charlie hesitated for a moment, then opened it cautiously. Standing there was Stolas, his usual regal composure replaced with visible urgency.
"Stolas?" Charlie said, her voice tinged with confusion.
"Charlotte, I know it's been a long time, but there's no time to explain! We need to leave—now!" Stolas said, his voice sharp and commanding.
"Why? What's going on?" Charlie asked, still trying to process his sudden appearance.
"HEY, GET YOUR BITCH ASS IN THE VAN NOW!" a loud, familiar voice yelled from outside.
Charlie peeked past Stolas and saw a beat-up van parked at the curb. Behind the wheel was Blitzo, leaning out the window and waving frantically. Inside the van were Loona, Moxxie, Millie, and Octavia, all crammed together.
Realizing the urgency, the Hazbin Hotel staff quickly grabbed their things and piled into the van. Husk grumbled under his breath about being manhandled as Angel Dust shoved him inside.
As soon as everyone was inside, Blitzo slammed his foot on the gas, and the van sped off down the street. "STOLAS, YOU BETTER GET US THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!" Blitzo yelled, glancing at the demon prince in the back.
"What's happening?" Vaggie demanded, gripping Charlie's hand tightly.
Stolas took a deep breath and addressed Charlie directly. "Victor Von Doom has taken over Hell. He's after you, Charlotte—he wants to use you as leverage against your parents."
Charlie's eyes widened in horror. "Leverage? Against my parents?"
"I'd like to see Dr. Doofus catch us in that clunky medieval armor," Blitzo scoffed, glancing at the rearview mirror with a smirk.
"Um, quick question," Nifty said, her voice small as she peeked out the window. "Can he fly?"
Blitzo's smug expression vanished as he looked in the mirror again. There, in the distance, was Doctor Doom, flying toward them with alarming speed, using a combination of rocket boots and glowing magic that crackled in the air.
"HE CAN FLY?" Octavia shrieked, clutching onto her seat.
"He can fly," Loona confirmed, her voice deadpan as she stared out the window.
Blitzo groaned loudly, gripping the steering wheel tighter. "Oh, for fuck's sake! Everyone, hold on! We're about to test just how fast this piece of junk can go!"
As the van screeched around a corner, Doom gained on them, his unrelenting presence sending a chill through everyone in the vehicle. Charlie clenched her fists, her mind racing. If Doom was truly after her, there was no telling what lengths he would go to.
As Doom closed in, his unrelenting figure looming larger in the rearview mirror, Angel Dust leaned out of the van window, brandishing his tommy gun.
"Let's see how 'clunky medieval armor' holds up to this!" Angel snarled, opening fire.
At the same time, Moxxie grabbed his revolver and aimed out another window, carefully firing shot after shot. The bullets struck Doom's armor, sparking on impact—but to no avail. They ricocheted harmlessly off the impenetrable metal.
"Are you kidding me?!" Angel shouted, frustration mounting as Doom continued to advance.
Doom barely flinched, his focus unbroken as he soared forward. In one swift motion, he landed on the roof of the van, his heavy boots denting the metal. Without hesitation, he slammed his gauntleted fist through the roof, tearing a hole clean through.
"Drive faster, Blitzo!" Charlie screamed as Doom's hand reached inside, groping for her.
"THIS IS AS FAST AS IT GOES!" Blitzo yelled, slamming his foot on the gas pedal with all his might.
Before Doom could grab Charlie, a thunderous roar echoed through the air.
"GET AWAY FROM HER!"
Out of nowhere, Queen Beelzebub, the ruler of the Gluttony Ring, shot through the sky like a meteor, tackling Doom with incredible force. The van swerved violently as Doom was ripped from the roof, tumbling mid-air with Beelzebub as they crashed to the ground.
"You dare lay your hands on Doom?" Doom's voice was as cold and menacing as ever. He raised his hand, his gauntlet glowing with dark energy.
Beelzebub didn't flinch, her insect-like wings buzzing furiously as she bared her fangs. "And you dare come into my domain uninvited?"
Without another word, Doom unleashed a beam of eldritch magic, striking Beelzebub directly in the chest. She was thrown back, crashing into a nearby building with a deafening impact.
The van skidded to a halt as the group watched in horror. "Holy shit, did he just zap the queen?!" Angel shouted, his multiple hands clutching the sides of the van.
"She'll be fine, right? Right?!" Vaggie yelled, her voice tinged with panic.
Doom slowly descended to the ground, his cape billowing ominously. He turned toward the van, his piercing gaze fixed on Charlie.
"You cannot run from Doom," he declared, his voice calm but filled with deadly intent. "Your time is up, Charlotte Morningstar."
As Doom stepped forward, the ground trembled beneath his feet, and an oppressive silence fell over the area. Suddenly, the air grew heavy with an overwhelming presence. One by one, the Seven Deadly Sins manifested in the clearing, their auras suffocating and immense.
Satan, the Sin of Wrath, stepped forward, his towering form radiating pure fury. Beside him stood Belphegor, Mammon, Asmodeus, Leviathan, Beelzebub, and Lucifer, who had managed to regroup after his initial encounter with Doom. Together, they formed an impenetrable wall of raw power.
"Victor von Doom," Satan's voice boomed, his tone laced with disdain. "Your existence and narcissism are a stain on the fabric of the universe. You've defiled Hell itself with your arrogance."
Doom remained unshaken, his glowing eyes narrowing beneath his mask. "Then perhaps I shall weave a new fabric, one free of your failures."
Satan snarled, and the other Sins prepared to attack, their combined might ready to crush the armored intruder.
Doom raised his arms, dark energy swirling around him. "I am Doom. No force in Hell—or beyond—can stand against me."
Without hesitation, the Sins launched their assault. Beelzebub's speed turned her into a blur, striking at Doom from all angles. Mammon summoned golden constructs to bind him, while Leviathan unleashed a torrent of water powerful enough to crush steel. Asmodeus wielded his charm to weaken Doom's will, and Belphegor manipulated the very air around him, suffocating the armored figure.
Doom, however, was prepared. His suit's enchantments deflected Beelzebub's strikes, his own constructs shattered Mammon's golden chains, and his armor withstood Leviathan's crushing waves. A burst of eldritch energy neutralized Asmodeus's influence, and a surge of fire erupted from his gauntlets, dispelling Belphegor's suffocating magic.
The battle was fierce, the sky above them tearing open as their powers clashed.
Meanwhile, inside the van, chaos reigned. Blitzo swerved to avoid the falling debris caused by the fight outside, cursing loudly.
"What the fuck is happening out there?!" Angel Dust shouted, gripping the edges of his seat.
Suddenly, a swirling portal opened in front of the van, its light casting eerie shadows inside.
"Stolas, what the hell is that?!" Vaggie demanded.
"A way out," Stolas said, his voice firm. "It's now or never!"
The van hurtled toward the portal, its passengers holding on for dear life. As the vehicle passed through, the world outside blurred into a chaotic swirl of colors and light.
The van shot out of the portal and into the open sky above Manhattan. Blitzo, gripping the steering wheel with white-knuckled panic, glanced out the window and screamed, "Oh, fuck!"
The rest of the passengers joined in, their collective screams echoing as the van plummeted toward the bustling streets of Greenwich Village below.
"We're gonna die!" Angel Dust yelled, clutching onto Vaggie.
"Shut up, Angel! You're not helping!" Vaggie snapped, bracing herself.
Just as they were about to crash into the pavement, the van came to a sudden, jarring halt. Instead of slamming into the ground, it hung suspended mid-air, held firmly by thick, shimmering strands of spiderweb.
"What the hell just happened?" Vaggie asked, her voice shaky as she peered out the window.
The van creaked and swayed slightly, and before anyone could answer, there was a light knock on the driver's side window. Blitzo cautiously turned his head and came face-to-face with none other than Spider-Man himself, clinging to the side of the van with ease.
"Hi there," Spidey greeted, his tone light and casual. "So, uh, I don't think your insurance covers falling out of the sky. Lucky for you, I've got you covered."
Blitzo blinked in disbelief. "What... what the fuck is this?! A giant bug?!"
Spider-Man tilted his head. "Technically, spiders aren't bugs, but I'll let that slide. Now, do you guys want me to help you get down, or are you just gonna keep dangling here?"
Charlie leaned forward, staring at Spider-Man through the windshield. "Wait, you're Spider-Man! You're real?! This is Earth, isn't it?"
"Last time I checked, yeah," Spider-Man quipped, shooting another web to stabilize the van. "You've got some explaining to do, though. Sky portals aren't exactly an everyday thing here—well, not unless Doctor Strange is having a rough day."
"We don't have time for this!" Stolas exclaimed, his feathers ruffled as he clutched Octavia protectively. "Victor von Doom is coming, and he'll tear this city apart to find us!"
Spider-Man straightened up, his lenses narrowing slightly. "Doom? As in Doctor Doom? Great. Because dealing with one megalomaniacal supervillain wasn't enough for my week."
"Can you help us or not, Bug-Man?!" Blitzo shouted impatiently.
Spider-Man sighed dramatically. "It's Spider-Man, but sure, I'll help. Just hang tight. Or, you know, tighter."
With a quick flick of his wrist, he spun another web and began lowering the van carefully toward the street below, already dreading whatever chaos this strange group had brought with them.
Spider-Man carefully lowered the van to the street, making sure everyone got out safely. He stepped back, placing his hands on his hips as he surveyed the unusual group. "Alright, now that you're not splattered all over Manhattan... who are you guys?"
Charlie stepped forward, nervously wringing her hands. "Um, hi! I'm Charlie Morningstar, heir to the throne of Hell. But don't worry! I'm not malevolent or evil or anything like that. Those are just stereotypes." She gestured to the others. "This is Alastor, my girlfriend Vaggie, Nifty, Husk, and Angel Dust."
Angel gave Spider-Man a wink and a playful wave. "Hey, cutie."
Charlie continued, motioning to the other group. "And that's Stolas, his daughter Octavia, Blitzo, Moxxie, Millie, and Loona."
Spider-Man tilted his head, his lenses narrowing in confusion. "Okay... so we've got demons, a prince of Hell, and a talking owl? Got it. This might actually top the time I fought an alien symbiote in space." He shrugged. "Nice to meet you all, I guess."
"Can you help us or not?" Blitzo cut in, folding his arms. "Doctor Doom is chasing us, and I'm not in the mood for small talk!"
Spider-Man rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, about that... Doom isn't exactly a guy you can just punch and call it a day. And magic? Definitely not my area of expertise. I'm more of a 'swing and kick bad guys' kind of guy. But, lucky for you, I know someone who does handle this sort of thing."
"Who?" Stolas asked, his feathers still ruffled.
Spider-Man pointed down the street. "Not far from here. Come on, I'll take you."
The group followed him, sticking close as they made their way through the city.
Spider-Man led them to a large, ornate building with a circular window near the top—the Sanctum Sanctorum.
"This place..." Stolas murmured, eyeing the building with curiosity.
Spider-Man knocked on the door. "Hey, Doc! You in there?"
The doors creaked open on their own, a faint glow emanating from within. Before anyone could react, an unseen force dragged them all inside.
"What the hell?!" Vaggie exclaimed, struggling against the magical pull.
"Relax," Spider-Man said, casually walking in after them. "It's just the house's way of saying hello. Trust me, you're in good hands."
As the group stumbled into the main hall, a voice echoed through the room. "Who dares disturb the Sanctum Sanctorum?"
As the group stumbled into the main hall, a voice boomed through the dimly lit chamber, resonating with authority. "Who dares disturb the Sanctum Sanctorum?"
Everyone froze, their gazes lifting toward the source of the voice. Hovering above them was Doctor Strange, his crimson Cloak of Levitation billowing slightly as he floated in midair. His piercing eyes swept over the group with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity.
"Hi, Doc," Spider-Man said casually, giving a small wave.
Doctor Strange raised an eyebrow. "Spider-Man, of all the bizarre stunts you've pulled, this might take the cake. Care to explain why you've brought demons into my home?"
Before Spider-Man could respond, Alastor stepped forward, his ever-present grin wide with curiosity. "Ah, the Sanctum Sanctorum. I had rumors about this house when i was alive. Always found it fascinating, though I never imagined I'd get to see the inside."
Doctor Strange's expression hardened as he turned his attention to the Radio Demon. "Fascination is one thing, but I'd advise against testing the wards of this place, demon."
"Who, me?" Alastor said, placing a hand on his chest as though offended. "I wouldn't dream of it!"
Spider-Man stepped in between them, raising his hands to de-escalate. "Okay, look, before this turns into some weird magical standoff, let me explain. This is Charlie Morningstar, princess of Hell—don't worry, she's one of the good ones. She and her friends are on the run from Doom."
Doctor Strange's eyes narrowed at the mention of the name. "Victor von Doom?"
"Know anyone else named Doom?," Spider-Man confirmed. "Apparently, he's taken over Hell. These guys are his next targets, and they need your help."
Strange descended gracefully to the ground, his Cloak of Levitation settling around his shoulders like a regal mantle. He walked toward Charlie with an air of calm authority, his piercing gaze locking onto hers. "Princess of Hell, is it?" he said, his tone firm but not unkind. "If Doom has set his sights on you, I highly doubt this is just a personal vendetta. What is he after?"
Charlie hesitated, glancing nervously at her companions. "I... I'm not entirely sure," she admitted.
"Whatever it is, it's bad," Loona interjected, leaning against the van with her arms crossed. "He's already taken out the other six sin demons."
Strange froze, his expression shifting from curious to deeply alarmed. "That's physically impossible," he said, his voice edged with disbelief. "Even for Doom."
"Well, he did it," Loona replied bluntly.
Strange's brow furrowed as he lapsed into thought, piecing together the puzzle. "Unless..." he murmured, his mind racing. "Did Doom have a book strapped to his belt?"
Stolas, who had been silently observing, perked up. "Yes," he said, his voice tinged with dread. "It was black, with gray runes etched into its cover."
Doctor Strange's expression darkened. He closed his eyes briefly, as though bracing himself for what he was about to say. "The Darkhold," he said grimly. "It has returned."
"The Darkhold?" Charlie asked, her voice tinged with confusion and worry.
"A book of forbidden knowledge," Strange repeated, his tone grave. "It contains the darkest, most corrupting magic in existence—magic capable of bending the very fabric of reality to its wielder's will."
With a wave of his hand, Strange conjured a shimmering magical illusion in the air, depicting ancient scenes of primordial chaos. The group watched in awe and unease as glowing symbols and shadowy figures took form.
"Before there was Heaven and Hell," Strange began, his voice steady but filled with a weight of knowledge, "there were the Elder Gods, beings of immense power that existed at the dawn of creation. One of them, Chthon, was the author of the Darkhold and the creator of Chaos Magic—the most volatile and unpredictable form of magic ever known."
The illusion shifted, showing a towering, monstrous figure, its eyes burning with malevolent energy as it etched runes onto jagged stone walls. "Chthon," Strange continued, "the first demon, inscribed his forbidden spells on the walls of Mount Wundagore, an ancient nexus of power. His intent was clear: to leave behind a legacy of chaos and corruption, even after he was banished for all eternity by his fellow Elder Gods."
The image transformed again, depicting Chthon's banishment—a storm of light and darkness swirling as the other Elder Gods sealed him away in another dimension. "But his influence endured," Strange said, his voice somber. "The runes he carved into Mount Wundagore were later transcribed into a single tome—the Darkhold. It has passed through countless hands over the millennia, corrupting all who dare to wield it."
Strange let the illusion fade, turning to face the group. "And now, it's in the hands of Victor von Doom. If he's mastered even a fraction of its power, he could tear apart not just Hell, but all of reality."
The room fell silent, the weight of Strange's words settling over everyone like a suffocating fog.
"So… what you're saying is," Angel Dust broke the silence, "this Doom guy is packing, like, ultra-nuclear magic now?"
"In layman's terms, yes," Strange replied, his tone sharp. "And if we don't act swiftly, he could unleash horrors beyond anything this world—or any other—has ever known."
Charlie's determination faltered for a moment as Spider-Man suddenly stiffened, his Spider-Sense tingling. He looked around, his posture tense. "Uh, Doc, I think we've got a problem," Spidey said, his voice laced with unease. "Did you forget to pay the heating bill?"
Strange furrowed his brow, his fingers tracing a quick pattern in the air to scan for magical disturbances. "No, I didn't," he said sharply. "Something's wrong."
The group followed Strange and Spider-Man as they stepped outside. The moment they exited the Sanctum Sanctorum, a biting chill swept over them. The normally bustling streets of Bleecker Street were eerily silent, every surface coated in a thick layer of ice. Cars were frozen in place, lampposts were encased in frost, and the air itself seemed to shimmer with a crystalline sheen.
The group followed Doctor Strange and Spider-Man out of the Sanctum Sanctorum, only to be greeted by an unnatural, bone-chilling cold. The once-lively streets of Bleecker Street were unrecognizable. Every car was frozen solid, their metallic frames encased in thick layers of frost. Streetlights stood as frosty sculptures, their bulbs dimmed by the encroaching ice. Sidewalks glistened with a dangerously slick sheen, and even the air seemed to sparkle with tiny, drifting ice crystals. The eerie silence was broken only by the faint cracking of ice expanding across surfaces.
At the center of the chaos stood Andrealphus Ars Goetia, a tall, regal demon with an air of cruel elegance. His icy blue skin seemed to shimmer in the dim light, and his cold, calculating eyes gleamed with amusement. With a flick of his wrist, he conjured another blast of frost, freezing a terrified pedestrian mid-scream. The frozen figure stood as a grotesque statue, locked forever in a moment of fear.
"Ahhh, who knew humans could be so… delicate?" Andrealphus mused, his lips curling into a satisfied smile. He turned his gaze toward the group, his expression one of smug superiority.
Spider-Man stepped forward, his eyes narrowing behind his mask. "Friends of yours, Big Bird?" he quipped, glancing at Stolas.
Stolas sighed heavily, rubbing his temples in frustration. "Andrealphus. My brother-in-law," he said with a tone that conveyed years of exasperation. "He and my wife have always been… insufferable."
Doctor Strange's expression darkened as he stepped forward, his hands glowing with golden energy. With a commanding voice, he called out, "Andrealphus Ars Goetia! Under the authority of the Sorcerer Supreme, I order you to return to Hell immediately!"
Andrealphus tilted his head, feigning curiosity as his icy grin widened. "Doctor Strange, I presume? Doom spoke of you. A man of such power, bound by such tiresome rules. How quaint." He waved a hand dismissively, conjuring another layer of frost that spread across the ground like a living thing. "You see, Doctor, Doom has made me an offer. As the new ruler of Hell, he's given me… creative freedom." He gestured to the frozen carnage around him with a theatrical flourish. "And I intend to make the most of it."
Spider-Man shot a web toward Andrealphus, aiming to disarm him. "Hey, Frosty the Demon, maybe tone it down a bit. You're kinda wrecking the neighborhood."
"There you go!" Spider-Man quipped, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Sorry, but no one likes a cold-hearted Karen, especially in New York!" He stood tall, his mask concealing the amused smirk beneath. The webbing around Andrealphus's mouth held firm, but cracks of frost were already forming along its surface, spreading like veins as the demon's icy power surged to break free.
Before Andrealphus could retaliate, Alastor stepped forward with a sinister grin. "Oh, what fun!" he exclaimed as shadowy tendrils erupted from the ground around him, writhing and snapping toward Andrealphus like living serpents. Spider-Man leapt into action, dodging between the tendrils with effortless agility, even running along a few of them for momentum. "Aren't you an energetic fellow," Spidey joked, glancing back at Alastor as he swung around.
"Try not to kill him!" Spider-Man called out, his voice tinged with a mix of humor and concern.
Alastor chuckled darkly, his grin widening. "A bit hard, considering he's trying to kill us!"
Meanwhile, Vaggie stepped into the fray, her eyes blazing with determination as she pulled out her spear. "He's not getting away with this!" she declared, positioning herself for a fight.
Andrealphus finally shattered the webbing over his mouth with a surge of icy power. "Enough of this nonsense!" he roared, his voice echoing like a winter storm. He raised his hands, the air around him crackling with energy as frost and snow coalesced into a massive, gleaming figure. A colossal ice dragon emerged, its crystalline body shimmering in the dim light. It reared back its head, releasing a bone-chilling roar that shook the streets.
"Holy crap!" Husk exclaimed, his usual nonchalance replaced by genuine alarm as he took a step back.
The dragon lunged forward, its maw opening wide as it unleashed a torrent of icy breath. The freezing wind tore through the street, coating everything in a thick layer of frost. Doctor Strange quickly stepped in, summoning a glowing shield of magical energy. The shield expanded, creating a protective dome that deflected the icy attack, though the sheer force of the dragon's breath caused cracks to form along its surface.
Strange's eyes narrowed in focus. With a flick of his wrists, he conjured the Daggers of Denak—blazing, circular saw-like magic constructs. With a swift motion, he hurled the daggers at the dragon. The spinning blades of light sliced through the creature's icy body, severing its limbs and head. For a brief moment, it seemed like the attack had worked, but to everyone's horror, the ice simply reformed, the dragon regenerating itself in seconds.
"It's reconstructing itself!" Strange called out, frustration creeping into his voice as the dragon roared once more.
Andrealphus sneered, his icy aura flaring as he raised his hands, preparing to unleash a devastating wave of frost. "And now… your death!" he declared, his voice echoing through the frozen streets. The air around him crackled with bitter cold, frost creeping over every surface as he inhaled deeply, preparing to unleash his full power.
Before he could act, something hard and blunt slammed into his face with a resounding crack!
The group winced at the impact, their heads snapping toward the source of the attack. Floating in the air near Andrealphus was a legendary weapon—Mjolnir, the mighty hammer of Thor.
Before Andrealphus could even process what had happened, a deafening clap of thunder shook the street. A bolt of lightning struck the ground, illuminating the battlefield in blinding white light. As the energy dissipated, a towering figure clad in Asgardian armor stood in its place. Thor, the God of Thunder, had arrived. He extended his hand, summoning Mjolnir back to his grasp with a whump! of displaced air.
"For Asgard!" Thor bellowed, his booming voice shaking the ice-covered street. Without hesitation, he charged toward the towering ice dragon that loomed before him.
"Thor! The pigeon is controlling the ice lizard!" Spider-Man shouted, pointing at Andrealphus.
Thor's sharp gaze locked onto the demon, who was now retreating, clearly recognizing the god's power. But the Son of Odin was not one to let a foe escape so easily. Raising Mjolnir high, Thor brought it down with a thunderous slam! against the ground. Instantly, bolts of divine lightning crackled across the battlefield, arcing through the sky before striking Andrealphus with the force of a raging storm.
The demon let out a strangled cry as electricity coursed through his body, his limbs seizing from the raw power of the attack. He crashed to the ground, his body smoking from the divine assault.
With slow, deliberate steps, Thor approached the fallen Andrealphus. The demon groaned in pain, struggling to lift himself, but before he could, Mjolnir was pressed firmly against his chest. A deep, crushing weight pinned him down, as though the weight of a dying star had been placed upon him.
Andrealphus gasped, his wings twitching uselessly under the overwhelming pressure. His once-arrogant expression was now twisted in fear.
Thor loomed over him, his blue eyes crackling with barely restrained power. "Listen well, demon," he rumbled, his voice like distant thunder. "If you dare set foot in Midgard again, I shall skin your feathers from your wretched form and fashion them into a cloak. Do you understand?"
Andrealphus frantically nodded, his pride momentarily swallowed by survival instinct.
Thor arched a brow as he looked down at the excitable Nifty clinging to his arm, her eyes practically sparkling with admiration. He chuckled, effortlessly lifting her onto his shoulder with one hand. "Ah! A warrior spirit, I see!" he declared proudly. "Tell me, little one, do you seek glory in battle?"
Nifty gasped excitedly, kicking her feet. "Oh, you bet I do! And I gotta say, you're really strong! Like, super strong!"
Angel Dust smirked, folding his arms. "Well, well, ain't every day you see a guy walk in and make Nifty go all googly-eyed. You sure you're not hiding some modeling gig up in Asgard?"
Thor let out a hearty laugh, twirling Mjolnir effortlessly in his grasp. "Nay, my flamboyant friend! I am Thor, Son of Odin, Prince of Asgard, and Defender of the Realms!" He raised his hammer high, and another bolt of lightning cracked across the sky, illuminating the frozen city in dramatic light.
"OOOOHHHH!" Nifty practically squealed, clinging even tighter to his shoulder.
Vaggie groaned, rubbing her temple. "Oh great, now she's never gonna let this go."
Thor, still smiling, turned back to the group, his expression growing more serious. "But I must ask… why are demons roaming the streets of Midgard? And why is Manhattan trapped in this unnatural frost?"
Doctor Strange sighed, stepping forward. "Thor, it's a long story. One that involves Hell, Doom, and a darkness rising."
Thor's smirk returned as he rested Mjolnir on his shoulder. "Aye, then let us speak quickly, for I do not intend to let this winter last a moment longer than necessary."