Ghost Rider's Redemption

Three Witches of Fate

Frank Castle—or rather, the current Ghost Rider—could no longer feel pain.

His flesh and blood had long since burned away, his bones reforged by Hellfire, and his obsession with vengeance had become eternally burning flames.

But at this moment, facing the Three Witches of Fate, he felt an unfamiliar emotion for the first time.

Fear?

No, not fear!

It was anger—pure, cold anger.

"Frank Castle."

The witch in the middle spoke again, her voice like the whispers of countless people.

"You, Ben, could have rested in peace."

Ghost Rider looked at them coldly.

Rest in peace?

His memories had long been shattered, yet certain fragments still stabbed into his consciousness like sharp blades.

The corpses of his wife and children, the dull sound of bullets tearing through flesh, cries of despair.

He had once been the Punisher, the embodiment of vengeance in the human world.

And now, even his right to vengeance had been stripped away, reducing him to a weapon in the hands of some higher being.

"I had no choice."

His voice rasped like sandpaper, Hellfire surging with his emotions.

The witch on the far left shook her head, her tone indifferent. "You always had a choice."

The witch on the right raised a gaunt finger, her hollow voice carrying through the void. "You simply refused to face it."

She glanced at Frank, watching her knight's chains rattle.

Frank recalled the golden giant's promise.

"Help me obtain what I want, and I'll let you truly have your revenge."

Revenge?

Against whom?

The gangsters who had killed his family had long since been slaughtered by him.

Now, he was nothing more than a puppet being used.

But even so.

He still longed to burn.

With that thought, he shook his chains, flames coiling around them.