According to ancient texts from Kamar-Taj, Hell is a peculiar dinsion attached to the material world, filled with scorching lava and the pungent sll of sulfur. It is a barren wasteland where nothing grows.
Beyond its cracked, parched earth and perpetual overcast skies, there is no other scenery...
phisto was one of Hell's rulers, and he has always enjoyed appearing in the material world in human form, seducing mortals, toying with souls, and deriving endless amusent from it.
This malevolent howler took great pleasure in such wicked gas. The story of Faust was inspired by him.
Unfortunately, after Agamotto established the Three Sanctums, perfected the magical system, and organized sorcerers to purge supernatural creatures... his successor, the Ancient One, took even more drastic asures, expelling all entities from beyond the material world!
For this reason, phisto clashed with both Sorcerers Supre, even once rallying the denizens of Hell to form a vast dark army in an attempt to invade and conquer the material world.
The first ti, the Seven Lords of Hell descended in full force, leading countless dark creatures; spectral wraiths, balrogs, nightmares, stone golems, and more.
The newly founded Three Sanctums rallied their own forces; the Knights of the Sanctum, the Hidden Order, and others, to resist the onslaught of darkness. That war, though unrecorded in history, was a pivotal battle for humanity's survival, its brutality beyond imagination.
In the end, under the leadership of the previous Sorcerer Supre, Agamotto, the Three Sanctums barely erged victorious, barring the Seven Lords of Hell and their dark legions from the material world.
The second ti, phisto used the Spirit of Vengeance to select Ghost Riders in the material world to carry out his tasks. This enraged the Ancient One, who had by then inherited the title of Sorcerer Supre. The two clashed in a cataclysmic battle.
In the end, the Ancient One personally blasted the powerful Hell Lord back to his domain, centing her own formidable reputation...
"This ti is different."
Beyond the material world, six towering figures lood like mountains, blotting out the sky.
One of them sneered, his voice dripping with malice: "The London and Hong Kong Sanctums have already fallen. The defenses Agamotto built are crumbling. How long do you think you can hold out? Rather than handing this planet to Dormammu, why not surrender it to us? We only crave souls after all. This world might still retain a sliver of hope."
"Silence, Samael!" The Ancient One's gaze was cold.
With a sweep of her hand, ripples spread outward from her white-robed figure, distorting the surrounding space. In less than half a minute, New York was sealed away like an insect in amber. The entire city plunged into the Mirror Dinsion.
"Try crossing that line, and we'll see if I can take your head this ti."
From within the thick dark mist, a terrifying crimson dragon's head erged, its massive vertical pupils fixed on the Ancient One hovering in the void. Blazing firelight threatened to erupt from its maw.
This was Samael, one of the Seven Lords of Hell, a fallen seraph, the legendary Red Dragon said to herald the apocalypse.
Beyond the six shadowy figures of the Hell Lords, a towering figure wreathed in hellfire erged, his tone laced with schadenfreude, "We are not fools like phisto. Soon, the material world's defenses will collapse, Dormammu will descend, and you will be stretched too thin to stop it."
"Zarathos, now that you've broken free from phisto's shackles, you should know better than to covet Earth." The Ancient One's voice was frigid.
A radiant halo enveloped her body, layers of dazzling light intertwining to form a resplendent crown. Flas of the mind cascaded like tassels, further elevating the Sorcerer Supre to a divine presence.
"I'd like to see who dares take the first step." She said, her piercing gaze cutting through the clouds. Hell itself fell silent.
No one answered...
....
Sean brought Strange to the New York Sanctum, which had also beco a fierce battleground. Dormammu's zealots, hordes of dark creatures like werewolves and vampires, and sinister alchemical constructs surged forward in an endless black tide...
Mordo, wielding a powerful relic, fought valiantly at the forefront. The other sorcerers followed suit. Alchemical firearms and Sanctum artifacts filled the air as the cacophony of battle raged.
"Go find so relics." Sean said, glancing at the uneasy Strange and dismissing him from the battlefield.
It was a sha this was the Mirror Dinsion. Otherwise, he could have mobilized S.H.I.E.L.D.'s helicarriers to evacuate civilians and launch a carpet bombing. No matter how many dark minions there were, they wouldn't stand a chance.
To prevent this final battle from spilling into the real world, the Ancient One had dragged all of New York into the Mirror Dinsion. Now, it was purely a contest of strength.
Under Kamar-Taj's command, the Sanctum had gathered the Knights, the Hidden Order, and nurous monster & demon hunters. They would serve as the last line of defense against this terrifying dark invasion.
However, Kaecilius's scheming had borne fruit. Using Dormammu's whispers, he had corrupted weaker-willed Sanctum sorcerers, infiltrating the London and Hong Kong Sanctums and severely damaging the material world's defenses.
Now, only the New York Sanctum remained. Once it fell, Dormammu would truly descend.
At that point, the Sorcerer Supre would be caught between two fronts; the demonic forces of Hell, and the corrosive power of the Dark Dinsion.
'Was this what the Ancient One ant when she spoke of her impending doom?' As Sean mused, the material world's defenses continued to crumble.
More denizens of Hell poured in; massive balrogs, nightmares wreathed in sinister auras, and countless spectral wraiths.
Just as the scales of victory tipped toward Hell's favor, the Ancient One, adorned in her radiant crown, swept her hand through the air.
The Sword of the Vishanti descended. It was colossal blade of pure energy. The resulting explosion of flas incinerated the oncoming dark horde, reducing them to ashes in an instant!
For a brief mont, the Mirror Dinsion fell into silence. The dark tide hesitated. then, with reckless abandon, charged again, crashing against the sorcerers' final defensive line...
Sean looked up at the Ancient One, who stood resolute in the void, struggling to stabilize the material world against Hell's invasion.
A smile tugged at his lips as he said, "Leave Dormammu to ."
The Sorcerer Supre alone was enough to hold off the six furious Lords of Hell and the ancient elental entity, Zarathos.
As for Dormammu of the Dark Dinsion? Sean was eager to test himself against him.
Even without the Eye of Agamotto, with three Infinity Stones at his disposal, he had no reason to fear the dark deity.
"Well, well. Look what we have here, a scrumptious soul." A pale handso man in a long black coat stepped into Sean's path, blocking his way.
"It's been so, so long since I've tasted the exquisite flavor of a soul. You make my fangs ache!" The man licked his lips, his elongated canines glinting beneath his pale skin.
"And you are?" Sean paused, intrigued.
The man reeked of sulfur. He was obviously another denizen of Hell.
"I am the future Lord of Hell. phisto's son, Blackheart." The man announced his na without hesitation, his greedy eyes fixed on Sean.
Sean nodded, his smile widening. He whispered, "As the saying goes, families ought to stay together. Let reunite you with phisto."
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