Mephisto’s Symphony of Fear

They always think power is about strength. They misunderstand. Mephisto smiles. He does not fight.

He never fights. He folds the world into his will, then lets chaos do the dirty work.

I first sensed him in New York, but it wasn’t New York anymore. The skyline had

melted into molten glass, each reflection a lie. Streets looped back

on themselves, alleys leading to nowhere. And above it all, a throne of black

fire, hovering midair. From it, Mephisto’s laughter echoed like cracked

glass across the multiverse. But this time, he brought company. From a rift in the

sky came Shuma-Gorath, a thousand-eyed chaos entity, writhing in impossible geometry.