Hp/Marvel: John Wick The Witch King

Madman.

The word echoed in the Hell Lord's very being. Only a madman would threaten an entire dimension on its home turf. It looked at the figure before it, at the impossible gate that had descended into its realm, and understood.

The Wizard King was benevolent; he was a protector of his people.

The Wizard King was also cruel; he would burn a universe to the ground to save his family.

This was his singular obsession, his sacred ground that none could defile. Equivalent exchange was more than a principle of alchemy to him; it was the law of his existence. And the Gate of Matter, the manifestation of that law, was his to command.

John had taken off the Infinity Gauntlet, preparing to offer it as the ultimate price. While its loss would be an inconvenience, it was not irreplaceable. He could always forge another, could always find a way to tap into the Mind Stone's power again. But for now, he would use the Gauntlet and its supercharged magic crystal to do something unprecedented: unleash the full, unrestrained power of the Casket of Ancient Winters.

This wasn't the pale imitation Loki had wielded. This was the true core, an artifact capable of freezing time itself. It might not be enough to turn all Nine Realms to ice, but it would make the already harsh landscape of Hell an eternal, uninhabitable wasteland.

As for his own survival in the cataclysm? In the eyes of the Wizard King, that was a trivial detail.

The Hell Lord did not expect such suicidal insanity. Seeing John poised to drag the entire dimension down with him, even a being of its infamous power did not dare to act rashly. It wanted to scream, to ask who, exactly, was the Lord of Hell here? Who was this human who so casually threatened to obliterate a reality?

"Wait!" the entity pleaded, its mind racing to find a way to de-escalate. "Aren't you afraid she'll die?" It pointed a trembling finger at Ariana's still form. "If you destroy Hell, she will not be spared!"

John looked at the Hell Lord as if it were an idiot. "Do you think she would want to live as your puppet?" he asked, his voice dangerously soft. "Since death is coming anyway, why not have all of Hell as a funeral pyre?"

The last of the entity's composure shattered. It had come to the human world for conquest, not to see its home dimension annihilated.

Taking a silver pocket watch from his coat, John tossed it onto the frozen desert. The ticking was unnaturally loud in the sudden silence. "You have three minutes," he announced, his voice tinged with a chilling madness. "Decide the fate of Hell."

"Wizard, you—!"

"Make your choice, arrogant Lord of Hell," John interrupted, his killing intent a palpable force. "I promise you, I will kill you. No matter where you run, no matter where you hide. You have been marked by the Wizard King."

The hands of the watch ticked by, each second a hammer blow against the Hell Lord's confidence. As the second hand swept into the final ten seconds, beads of cold sweat rolled down its ethereal form.

The final second ticked past.

"Time is up," John said, his voice flat. "You've missed your chance."

He raised the Infinity Gauntlet without a shred of hesitation.

"I SURRENDER!"

The desperate cry tore through the air. The consciousness was violently ripped from Ariana's body, and as she began to fall, John waved his wand, gently pulling her into his arms.

He looked down at his sleeping sister, his expression softening as he gently stroked her cheek. "Wake up, Ariana," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "You're safe."

Her eyelids fluttered. Long lashes brushed against her cheeks, and she slowly opened her eyes. Seeing the face above her, she wasn't sure if it was real or another dream. She reached up, her fingers tentatively tracing the line of his jaw. "Brother?" she murmured, her voice hazy.

"Yes," John smiled, a glint of moisture in his eyes. "It's me."

Two years. After two long years, he was finally reunited with his family.

A soft whimper escaped Ariana's lips, and she buried her face in his chest. "I think I had a dream," she mumbled against his coat. "You were there, too. You protected me…"

John held her tightly. "It's alright now. You've grown up, Ariana."

The tender moment was shattered. The Hell Lord's true body, its consciousness forcibly returned, had awakened. A wave of immense, terrifying power surged towards them from the depths of Hell.

"Heh," John chuckled, a low, humorless sound. "I was just about to settle the score with you."

When he looked up, his eyes were the cold, emotionless vertical slits of a predator.

Without an ounce of heartache or attachment, he ripped the Mind Stone from the Gauntlet and threw the incandescent gem towards the Gate of Matter.

The great Gate swung open. Countless black, ethereal hands shot out from the void within, snatching the stone from the air.

"Use this," John commanded, his voice echoing with absolute authority. "Unleash the Casket of Ancient Winters. No restraints."

The Gate of Matter, its price paid, vanished.

The next moment, a beam of ultimate, rainbow-colored light descended from the non-existent sky, piercing through the very heart of Hell. The ground cracked and shattered. The newly arrived Hell Lord, its eyes wide with fury, was caught in the blast. A layer of eternal, unmelting ice instantly began to form over its gargantuan body.

"NO—!"

Back in Westview, Agnes nervously watched the few intact doors remaining in the Hell projection. As long as they remained, the Hell Lord could return. She knew her bargain was a dangerous one, but for an ambitious witch like her, trading with otherworldly powers was the only path to breaking her limits.

She waited for the Hell Lord's triumphant return.

When a door finally creaked open, she stood ready to receive her master. But the figure that stepped through was an existence that froze the very marrow in her bones.

"How is this possible?" she whispered.

Her body was slammed against the wall by an invisible force. John stood before her, his wand rotating slowly, its tip pointed directly at her heart. A piercing pain bloomed in her chest.

"I did not want to kill you," John said, his eyes frigid. "You are one of my subjects. But you, Agnes, have disappointed me."

"Who are you?" Agnes choked out, refusing to believe a wizard from a non-magical family could wield such power.

"Me?" John stared at her, his inhuman eyes devoid of any emotion. "We have met before. Back then, you should have knelt before me, witch."

He took a step forward, his wand held in his left hand, his right tightly gripping his sister's. "When I flapped the wings of Death and the shadow of world-destruction fell upon the earth, I spared you. Your identity as a witch was the only reason you survived."

His words struck her like lightning. Her mind flashed back to the most terrifying moment of her long life. An overwhelming shadow, a figure wreathed in the power of Death itself—a darkness so profound it made Hell seem like a pleasant afternoon. She had fled that day, but she had never truly escaped its shadow.

Her lips trembled. "You… you are…"

A terrifying, impossible thought took shape in her mind.

Before she could speak it, John's wand swung down. Agnes's body was slammed face-first into the ground. Her nose broke with a sickening crunch, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the cold terror flooding her soul.

"Wizard King," she finally whispered.

The moment the words left her lips, she felt the tip of his wand press against her head.

"You could have yearned for power from your King. You could have prayed for peace," the cold, indifferent voice said from above. "You are a subject of the Magic Kingdom. You should have enjoyed my protection."

The wand forced her head up, making her look at the being who stood in the ruins of the Hell projection—an existence more terrifying than any demon.

"Miss Agnes, for your arrogance and your hubris, you are hereby stripped of your status. You will no longer receive the protection of the Wizard King."

The curses began.

"First," John intoned, his voice resonating with ancient power. "I curse you with Sleeplessness. May you toss and turn in the starless night, forever barred from the peace of dreams." A gray film seemed to cover her eyes.

"Second, I curse you with Pride. May the arrogance that fueled you now be the fire that consumes everything you hold dear."

"Third, I curse you with Ignorance. Magic has blinded you. You will never again cross its boundaries, forever trapped within the cage of what you already know."

"Fourth, I curse you with Hypocrisy. You will bear the face of Agnes for eternity, forever unable to leave this town."

"Fifth, I curse you with Greed. May your rampant ambition become a bottomless pit, a hunger that can never be sated, bringing you only suffering."

"Sixth, I curse you with Decay. The magic you were so proud of will abandon you. The youth you cherished will wither. You will feel the slow, relentless march of death in your bones."

Six curses, spoken with the full, enraged authority of the Wizard King. Agnes screamed as she felt her power draining away, as the very essence of her being began to unravel.

Family was the Wizard King's one absolute line. For those who dared to cross it, death was the kindest fate imaginable.

John raised his left hand. A dazzling white light shot from his wand, piercing the last remnants of the Hell projection and disintegrating it into nothing.

Agnes knelt on the floor of the basement, her crazed wails echoing in the sudden silence.

John turned, pulling his sister with him, and walked out of the house. Ariana sensed the storm of emotions in her brother. This girl, no longer a child, felt no strangeness, only a deep sense of homecoming.

John's lips pressed into a thin line. He looked at his sister, and with a voice thick with emotion, he said, "Let's go home."

Ariana squeezed his hand.

"Okay."

(End of Chapter)

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