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"HAHAHA!"
"My dearest ally!"
phisto roared with laughter, rising from the ground and shifting back to his human form. Wearing the grin of a man who'd just survived the apocalypse, he spread his arms wide, clearly intending to wrap Hawk in a massive bear hug.
Hawk raised an eyebrow.
"Stop right there."
"Guh!"
phisto froze ten ters away from Hawk, staring blankly.
Hawk t phisto's gaze.
"Soone told you and Heaven are the real allies."
"? Heaven? Allies?"
phisto instinctively glanced down at his Hell dinsion—shattered, devastated, in complete ruins—then looked back up at Hawk.
"Who told you that?"
"The Blood God La Magra."
"..." phisto blinked at the na Hawk had dropped. Then he looked at Hawk. "La Magra's still alive? I thought Yahweh stabbed him to death years ago."
Hawk's expression was flat.
"He said Yahweh restrained him back then. And you're the one who ran him through with Yahweh's sword."
"That's bullshit!"
phisto looked personally offended. His entire face flushed red. "So you think all this—" he gestured at the destruction around them "—is so kind of double act between and Yahweh?"
Hawk looked at the agitated phisto and shrugged.
"That's what I thought before I got here. I tried to confront you about it a few days ago. You didn't respond."
"THAT'S BECAUSE YAHWEH STABBED IN THE BACK!"
phisto's expression was furious.
"The mont I discovered Yahweh was trying to create Angels of Hell, I started investigating."
"But I was so focused on the Hell Angels that I forgot about all the moles he'd planted in my own house."
"Yahweh's sleeper souls—while I was distracted—let Michael's entire war fleet into my dinsion."
"Those angels are complete lunatics."
"When I returned to Hell, over a hundred of them suicide-bombed on the spot. Blew up before I could even react."
"If that hadn't happened—"
In simple terms, phisto had gotten careless. He'd assud Hell was his ho turf, so he'd returned without any defenses. The ambushing angels had caught him completely off guard.
Heaven had a natural advantage over Hell to begin with.
And phisto's existence was tied directly to the Hell dinsion.
One suffered, both suffered.
After phisto was injured by all those angelic suicide bombers, his dinsion's power weakened. The scales tipped further and further—and phisto had nearly capsized in the gutter.
If Hawk hadn't shown up, if the angels had kept attacking unimpeded, phisto might have actually died.
After venting about the entire ambush, phisto looked at Hawk's indifferent expression and frowned.
"You don't believe ?"
"Your track record makes it hard."
"DAMN IT—THE LA MAGRA YOU T WAS A FAKE."
"I know."
"What?"
"I already figured out La Magra was Michael in disguise."
Hawk's tone was calm.
If Michael hadn't gone all out, Hawk might not have caught it. But when Michael burned his soul to unleash his full power, Hawk had detected an aura identical to what he'd sensed from La Magra right before his "death."
Twin souls in one angel.
Michael was the sa being Hawk had t not long ago—the one who'd perford that elaborate death scene and left behind the Blood Dinsion.
Still—
Hawk frowned slightly, looking at phisto with genuine confusion.
"What was Yahweh's endga here?"
"Isn't it obvious? Drive a wedge between us."
"..."
Hawk studied the animated phisto. His calm gaze carried a hint of mockery.
Under Hawk's stare, phisto's flushed face slowly darkened.
"I really wasn't lying this ti. I have no ulterior motives in our partnership."
"Maybe..." Hawk responded casually, not pressing the issue. He steered the conversation back to Michael. "So Michael disguised himself as La Magra, perford a whole 'deathbed confession' routine in front of , and even left a dinsion—all just to drive us apart?"
phisto's eyes suddenly lit up. He looked at Hawk.
"Wait—dinsion? The Blood God's dinsion? Don't tell you actually refined it."
"Is there a problem?"
Hawk raised an eyebrow. "I scanned every corner of that dinsion. There weren't any backdoors."
As he spoke.
His consciousness descended into the Blood Dinsion once more. His Sixth Sense spread out in a complete 360-degree sweep, covering every inch of the space.
Top to bottom. Outside to inside.
Not a single corner overlooked.
Just then.
phisto chuckled, looking at Hawk.
"Yahweh doesn't need backdoors. The mont you refined the Blood God dinsion, they could use its signature to pinpoint your exact location. And your power doesn't originate from this universe. Behind Heaven are the Celestials. Once they—"
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!
Before phisto even finished speaking, Hawk detonated the Blood Dinsion without a mont's hesitation.
Instantly.
The blood pool within his Underworld churned like a tsunami crashing against cliffs. But after a few monts of turbulence, it gradually settled back to calm.
phisto sensed the dinsional self-destruction. His eyes went wide as he stared at Hawk.
"That decisive?"
"That decisive."
"You didn't even hesitate?"
"No need."
"Making your power real—that didn't tempt you at all?"
"Not necessary." Hawk's tone was flat. "I have plenty of ways to make my power real. I don't need to keep a liability like that around."
It wasn't phisto's reminder about the Celestials backing Heaven that made him destroy the Blood Dinsion.
He was bound to clash with the Celestials eventually anyway.
The mont the Celestials discovered he'd stolen Tiamut's life energy, they'd co after him with everything they had.
The real reason Hawk had decided to blow up the Blood Dinsion was simple.
It wasn't sothing he'd earned.
So even if the dinsional space didn't have any hidden traps, he didn't want it anymore.
One sentence said it all.
He thought it was dirty.
The blood pool and the Blood Elves he'd created from Heavenly souls were different.
Those Heavenly souls were Hawk's spoils of war.
Spoils were the fruits of his labor.
As for the blood pool, that was sothing he'd refined over ti—taking the best parts of the Blood God dinsion, discarding the rest, then using the Reality Stone to manifest it.
That was the product of his own work.
But the dinsion itself?
Gone was gone.
Hawk didn't care. Just like he'd told phisto—if he wanted his Cosmo to truly exist in reality, he didn't need to use sothing that wasn't rightfully his.
First, he thought it was dirty.
Second, who knew if it might beco a liability later?
Worst case, he'd just stick to his original plan—claim the Phoenix constellation in the real universe and make it his Phoenix Parallel Universe.
Hawk thought this to himself, then looked at the weakened phisto before him. He waved his hand dismissively.
"Alright. I'm leaving."
"Already?"
phisto blinked, watching Hawk prepare to depart.
Hawk glanced at phisto. "What else? I ca here thinking you'd screwed over. Planned to beat the hell out of you. But now... whatever. You've got your hands full. We'll talk when you're done cleaning up."
With that.
He ignored phisto's attempts to make him stay, turned, and stepped forward—leaving the Hell dinsion and reappearing above Pluto.
The next second.
The Black Phoenix projection manifested. But because he'd destroyed the Blood Dinsion that had existed in reality, the Black Phoenix—which had felt slightly more tangible before—had lost so of that substance.
His speed couldn't reach sub-light anymore. The return trip took two hours longer than the journey out. Finally, he broke through Earth's atmosphere and touched down in New York City.
The S.H.I.E.L.D. agents stationed in the Palm Street community received the notification, started their cars, and drove away.
Gwen, sitting on the couch flipping through the latest cutting-edge biology journal, looked up as Hawk walked in from the backyard. She blinked, then set the magazine aside.
"What's wrong? phisto still won't move?"
"No."
Hawk dropped onto the couch, spread his arms, and pulled Gwen into an embrace. "I almost got played by Yahweh."
Gwen heard this. Nestled against his chest, she looked up at him.
"What happened?"
"The Blood God La Magra..."
Hawk held nothing back from Gwen. He told her about going to Pluto to confront phisto, only to discover Hell was nearly conquered by Heaven. About La Magra actually being the Archangel Michael in disguise.
Gwen listened with growing astonishnt.
"The Archangel Michael?"
"Mm."
Hawk nodded, then looked down to et Gwen's eyes. "But I still don't understand what Yahweh was trying to accomplish."
If La Magra and the Blood God dinsion were the bait—
He'd already swallowed it.
But where was the hook?
Was it really just what phisto said? That absorbing the Blood God dinsion would let them call in Daddy Celestials to sanction him?
Hawk couldn't wrap his head around it.
Gwen thought for a mont. Sothing seed to occur to her.
"When we ca back from church, you said Yahweh appeared during Little Ben's baptism?"
"Mm. He seed pretty shocked at the ti. But looking back now, that shock wasn't because my power had gained a real anchor point. There was almost... satisfaction underneath it. But I was in a good mood then. Didn't feel like listening to him ramble. Just swatted him."
"What if—"
Gwen heard this and sat up from Hawk's embrace, looking at him. "What if Yahweh showing up was to set the hook? But the target he wanted to catch wasn't you?"
Hawk heard Gwen's words. He t her gaze.
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