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Blackheart's pupils dilated in slow motion, his hand still reaching for the contract.
Time seemed to freeze.
The finger pressing toward his forehead moved with a glacial slowness that made his heart seize—yet it struck with the speed of lightning.
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!
Space itself warped. An ominous purple-black flame erupted at Hawk's fingertip—fire without heat, flames born from pure resentment and terror given form. The flickering shadows traced the outline of a phoenix's wing, silent yet radiating a suffocating pressure that promised annihilation.
The next second—
Hawk's finger touched Blackheart's forehead.
CRASH!
Blackheart's body went rigid, every muscle locking up like a plank of wood. His pupils constricted violently, lost focus, then dilated completely.
Phoenix Illusion Demon Fist...
The Phoenix constellation's signature technique.
It wasn't a physical attack—it was a psychic assault. The user's Cosmo surged directly into the target's mind, forcibly dragging forth their deepest, most primal fears and trapping them in a nightmare of their own making.
Those struck by this technique had two choices: drown in their terror, or shatter the illusion through sheer will and emerge stronger than before.
Blackheart was clearly not the latter.
Hawk watched as the Demon's body locked up, a cold smile tugging at his lips. The Bronze Phoenix Armor that had just materialized around him dissolved, reforming into the shape of a phoenix before vanishing back into his Cosmo.
This armor was a backup—forged from the first batch of Vibranium, meteorites, and Gammanium he'd collected.
Backup, because it was functionally obsolete.
It looked like a Gold Cloth, all brilliant and golden, but that was just the natural color of Vibranium. Underneath the shine, it was still just a Bronze-tier Saint Armor.
To put it bluntly—
If he went all out and burned his Cosmo at full power, the armor would crack.
And he had no interest in making a Silver Cloth. He'd already decided his next step.
A true Gold Phoenix Cloth.
Better yet—
A Phoenix Surplice.
The Underworld Armor.
.....
In the Saint Seiya Universe, the Gold Cloths weren't the only high-tier armors. The Underworld Saints—servants of Hades—wore Surplices that rivaled the Gold Cloths in power.
And compared to the complex material requirements of a Gold Cloth, forging a Surplice required only one thing:
Underworld Gemstones.
That was why, when Gwen had asked him how he planned to deal with Mephisto, he'd answered so confidently: "Simple. I'll just build my own Underworld."
A Gold Cloth, even if he could forge one now, would be useless. He wasn't strong enough to wear it yet.
But a Phoenix Surplice? That was doable.
He had the Aether. He had the four foundational elements. And now, he had the laws of life and death.
Right here. Right in front of him.
.....
Hawk lowered his hand and looked at Blackheart, whose eyes were wide and unfocused, lost in the nightmare of his own terror. He shrugged.
"Sorry."
"A demon's a demon."
"I can't trust Mephisto, and I can't trust you."
"So..."
"I'll do this myself."
The moment the words left his mouth, a wisp of Phoenix Fire ignited at Blackheart's feet. In an instant, it engulfed him completely.
Blackheart didn't scream. He didn't resist. His consciousness was still trapped within the Illusion Demon Fist, drowning in his deepest fears.
But the flames didn't care.
One breath.
Instant refinement.
Hawk extended his right hand. The Phoenix Fire coiled around his palm, and there, resting in his grasp, was a glowing fragment—a shard of the laws of life and death, freshly extracted from Blackheart's essence.
It was only a fragment.
Blackheart didn't truly possess the authority over life and death. He'd inherited it through bloodline, not through power. It was a birthright, not a conquest.
But for Hawk, it was enough.
With this fragment, he could construct his own Underworld ahead of schedule—before his Cosmo fully manifested into a parallel universe.
Incomplete laws? No problem.
Once his Cosmo materialized, he wouldn't just gain mastery over life and death. He'd claim every divine authority that existed within his universe.
Just like Odin, the All-Father of the World Tree.
Odin wasn't just the God of War. He was the God of Prophecy, the God of Kings, the God of Wisdom, the God of Healing, Magic, and Poetry.
That was why he was called the Father of the Gods. He was a god. And a god-king. The King of Gods. The Father of Heaven.
When Hawk's Cosmo manifested, he'd be the same.
Actually, he'd be stronger.
Because the World Tree wasn't created by Odin. But the universe Hawk would create? That would be his and his alone.
All power would flow from him. All authority would rest in his hands.
Was there anything wrong with that logic?
Nope.
Of course, that was all in the future.
For now...
Hawk watched as the fragment of the life-death laws merged with the core of his forming Underworld. He took a deep breath.
'First things first. Figure out how to borrow the Time Stone from the Sorcerer Supreme and speed up the construction process.'
He already had a plan forming in his mind.
Whether the Ancient One would agree to it... well, that remained to be seen.
.....
Half an hour later.
Hawk knocked on Carter Slade's door again.
The old Ghost Rider opened it cautiously, his eyes widening when he saw Hawk standing there, perfectly calm.
Hawk smiled. "Just wanted to let you know, in the spirit of a fair trade—Blackheart has been dealt with. You can rest easy."
Carter stared at him in disbelief.
"Already?"
"Was it supposed to take longer?" Hawk raised an eyebrow. "He's a demon. How long did you think it would take?"
His current power was on par with Thor's. And Blackheart? Sure, he was the son of Mephisto, Lord of Hell. But strip away the title, and what was left?
A dimensional demon with a fragment of the life-death laws.
That was it.
Hawk had caught him off guard with the Illusion Demon Fist. But even in a straight fight, Blackheart wouldn't have lasted more than fifty moves. Any longer than that, and it wouldn't be Blackheart getting stronger—it would be Hawk holding back.
And dragging out a fight like that would've been pointless. It wouldn't have been satisfying. It would've just felt like cheap filler.
Most importantly, It was only 8 PM.
If he hurried, he could still catch the last flight back to New York tonight.
He'd promised Mephisto he'd deal with Blackheart. And he had.
The old demon probably didn't expect him to move this fast. Afternoon landing in Texas, evening execution of his son.
Heh.
Mephisto's backup plan probably hadn't even been activated yet.
But that wasn't his problem.
That was Mephisto being too slow.
Hawk felt a small, vindictive satisfaction as he watched Carter Slade hurriedly mount his horse and ride off into the night, fleeing before anyone—or anything—else showed up.
Once the old Ghost Rider was out of sight, Hawk pulled out his phone and called Sharon.
"Hey."
"I'm done here. Heading back to New York."
"Wait, what??" Sharon's voice was incredulous. "You just got here this afternoon!"
Hawk chuckled. "Yeah, well. Everything I needed to do lined up perfectly. And it's Christmas break. I'm not leaving my fiancée alone in New York while I'm stuck in Texas."
Leaving Gwen by herself during the holidays, especially after they'd just gotten engaged?
That would be a disaster. And if a certain overprotective NYPD captain found out...
Hawk would never hear the end of it. This was their first Christmas together as an engaged couple. It mattered.
After hanging up with Sharon, Hawk looked up at the night sky. He didn't bother heading to the airport.
WHOOSH!
The spectral form of the Phoenix blazed to life behind him. The Bronze Armor snapped into place, and with a sound like thunder, he shot into the sky, his speed breaking Mach 500 as he streaked toward New York like a crimson comet.
He was curious what kind of surprise Mephisto had prepared for him in Texas. But right now he was homesick.
More importantly, what goes around, comes around.
Mephisto might've had a surprise waiting for him. But Hawk had just finished gathering the materials for his own little gift.
He just needed time to wrap it.
And so, he would go back, prepare his gift for Mephisto, and then…
Hawk was sure that while he might not be surprised by whatever Mephisto had planned, Mephisto would be very, very surprised by what he had in store for him.
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