Illyana didn't say anything at first. She only froze with a blank look on her face, as if thinking: "Wait… you want me to deceive Mephisto?!"
Wasn't this going too far?
It wasn't that she was afraid of taking risks. But to face a Hell Lord—especially one like Mephisto, a master manipulator who thrived on twisting hearts and minds—she wasn't sure she had the ability to fool him.
Russell, of course, knew Illyana couldn't deceive Mephisto on her own. That was why he added, calmly:
"Don't worry. Once you've become my Angel, I can lend you the power of deception. You won't actually have to lie—so even Mephisto won't be able to see through it."
Illyana hesitated for only two seconds. Then she straightened her posture and said firmly:
"Tell me. What do you want me to do?"
The decision left her uneasy, yes—but more than that, she was excited. This was a once-in-a-lifetime chance: a chance to help a godlike being outwit a Hell Lord.
It was the kind of thing people wouldn't dare to make up in stories. And yet, she would be able to boast of it forever. The thought made her a little proud.
Mutants squabbling among themselves was nothing compared to this, she thought. The real power plays are cosmic. And in the end… it all comes down to choosing the right man.
Russell was genuinely touched. He would never have forced Illyana into this—after all, the gap between their levels of power was immense. That she agreed willingly moved him deeply.
He took a slow, steady breath. His eyes reflected her figure, and in the next moment her vision blurred.
When it cleared, Illyana realized she was no longer in Hell.
She stood within an immense temple. Towering white stone pillars rose toward a dome covered with murals. Stained glass shimmered with color. Faint hymns echoed through the air, each note soothing the soul. A holy aura pervaded everything.
Then a white radiance appeared, and Russell stepped forward.
Behind his head shone a radiant halo of shifting colors. Though he stood only a step away, the distance felt infinite—sacred, unreachable.
When his gaze met hers, the entire world seemed to vanish. All that remained was pure, blinding white.
"The devil stares at the world, toys with souls, and peers into the hearts of mortals," Russell intoned, his voice reverberating through the temple.
"But I will give you divine power—hidden beneath the veil of Hell itself. From this day forward, you shall be my Secret Angel."
His words echoed like thunder.
Bells rang. A throne of white light rose in the heart of the Silver City. Illyana's inner power twisted and surged, reshaping itself into something new—something divine.
One pair of wings unfurled behind her. Then another. Then another.
Until sixteen pairs of radiant angelic wings stretched out, blazing like suns.
A miracle.
Endless power erupted within her, shattering the bottleneck that had bound her at the level of a mere Hell Lord.
Illyana Rasputin—the Demon Queen of Limbo—was reborn as an Angel, breaking through into a higher existence altogether.
Russell's voice whispered in her mind, even as the temple of light faded into nothingness.
When the vision ended, she found herself once again in the Ice Hell. Her demon form remained—but within her, everything had changed.
Raising an armored arm, she seized her former master Belasco, who now had only his weakened body left.
"Teacher," she said coldly. "In the face of true power… you are nothing."
With a single motion, she snapped his neck. His soul was crushed and annihilated in the same instant.
She exhaled softly. Then whispered:
"Now we wait. Let's see when the next Hell Lord comes."
The darkness of Hell would not ignore this. They would come—without a doubt.
At that moment, a black sphere appeared in her palm, pulsing with malignant energy. Before she could react, it exploded, fusing into the Ice Hell itself—reshaping reality.
Earth-838.
A dimensional gate split open.
Russell and Dormammu stepped through, emerging high above New York City.
At the same time—
Alarms blared inside the Sanctum Sanctorum in New York.
Baron Mordo sprinted to the energy hub, his cloak snapping behind him. When he flung open the door to the hidden chamber, his eyes widened in horror. The barrier of reality itself displayed a warning: a being of unimaginable power had already broken through and entered Earth's dimension.
His scalp prickled. His breath caught. He didn't dare imagine what catastrophe was about to follow.
Instinctively, he reached for a way to contact Doctor Strange.
Mordo hated to admit it, but this was far beyond his ability to handle.
But then, a calm, unsettling voice sounded behind him:
"Where is Strange?"
"I can't sense him anywhere on Earth. He's still alive… so where did he go?"
Gulp.
Mordo swallowed hard. The sound echoed like a pin dropping in a silent hall.
His body froze. His robes clung to him, soaked in sudden cold sweat. He couldn't even bring himself to turn around.
Then, another voice followed—deep and cruel:
"Master, you're scaring him. Let me."
A massive hand suddenly seized Mordo by the collar and yanked him around.
He found himself staring into a warped, flame-wreathed face. The raw malice nearly made him scream.
"Magician," the fiery being snarled, "tell me where Strange is!"
Mordo trembled. He wasn't even qualified to glimpse the deeper secrets of Kamar-Taj, and he certainly didn't recognize Dormammu's burning necromancer form.
Nor could he perceive the cosmic nature of Russell, who stood nearby. Mordo lacked the bloodline, the vision, and the strength to even comprehend such entities.
But even in his ignorance, he understood one thing: these were not beings he could afford to defy.
And since they weren't interested in Earth itself but in Strange… he had no choice.
Forcing a sickly smile, Mordo stammered:
"Strange… Strange is on Titan. He and the Illuminati are laying an ambush for Thanos."
"Thanos?" Dormammu's burning visage twisted, his voice dripping with contempt. "The lapdog of that wench, Death?" He glanced back at Russell. "Do we bother with him now?"
The casual way Dormammu dismissed Thanos' name sent fresh terror surging through Mordo. What kind of invader have we unleashed?
Russell, however, already knew the fate that awaited Thanos in this universe. But he could not allow Strange's destiny to play out unchanged.
"It doesn't matter," Russell said lightly. Then he instructed:
"Go to the Crimson Temple at Mount Wundagore. Prepare it. We'll bring Strange there soon."
Dormammu nodded. Then he turned back to Mordo, his fiery grin widening.
"And what about this one? He's seen me. Should I kill him?"
Mordo's legs gave out. His face drained of all color, his strength abandoning him completely.
Russell regarded him with disgust. This was the man who had betrayed Strange's location so easily.
"Forget it," Russell said coldly. "Let's give Kamar-Taj some face. Don't kill him—just make him an idiot."
With that, Russell's form shimmered into starlight and vanished.
Dormammu lingered, grinning with pure malice as his gaze fell on the trembling Baron Mordo.
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