The Demonic Child Descends

Hell's Border.

Hell's Border was as it always had been. Changing masters did not mean it had become any better or worse. Illyana herself did not like Hell's Border at all. Staying there too long easily made her irritable and left her feeling oppressed.

Other than using it for teleportation and occasionally practicing magic, Illyana hardly ever returned.

But now, in order to face Belasco once again, they had come back.

"I can understand not changing the other places, but you did not even change Belasco's palace. Oh, wait, you did. There's a bar here now."

Strange shook his head. Setting aside the issue of an underage Illyana drinking, Belasco's style of decoration was truly atrocious. Illyana, however, did not care at all, as though this place had nothing to do with her.

"Stop rambling, Strange. We came here to solve a problem, not listen to you complain about the decor."

Illyana muttered as she sat on what had once been Belasco's throne. Propping her chin on her hand, she asked, "What do we do? Should I use Astral Projection and see whether another me comes out to fight me?"

"No. You are not like Bruce Banner, who developed different personalities for one reason or another. Your problem is that if you remain on Earth too often, your soul becomes unbalanced. Your soul itself is stitched together. Half of it belongs to Hell's Border, which means the longer you stay on Earth, or the more white magic you use, the more unstable you become."

The reverse was true as well. If she remained in Hell's Border for too long or used too much black magic, the human half of Illyana's soul would suffer. That situation was even more troublesome, because the power of Hell's Border was far stronger than a