Blackheart looked up.
Above Oblivion Hell's dome, woven from streams of dark energy and ancient laws, an enormous head was slowly taking shape.
It was large enough to obscure nearly a third of the dome, every contour outlined in pure dark energy.
That energy flowed across his surface, forming ever-shifting patterns like flames.
His face had a texture somewhere between stone and living flesh, his features massive and cold, like an ancient statue carved by time and the power of dimensions together.
His eyes had no pupils, only two slowly rotating dark nebulae, within which countless miniature dimensional bubbles flickered into existence and vanished.
Dormammu, Lord of the Dark Dimension.
A being who had once tried to devour Earth, only to retreat in defeat before the combined defenses of its guardians.
Now he appeared before Oblivion Hell's new lord in a manner unlike anything before.
Ostensibly, he had come to offer congratulations, bearing just the right amount of courtesy and a seemingly appropriate blessing. Yet deep within those eyes of swirling dark nebulae churned something far more complicated than goodwill.
Blackheart slowly lowered his outstretched arms. The flames in his sunken eye sockets underwent a swift, precise contraction the instant that head appeared.
"Dormammu." Blackheart saw through his intentions but did not expose them.
"I never expected to receive such a... distinguished guest as the Lord of the Dark Dimension on my very first day ruling Oblivion Hell."
His words wore a carefully crafted veneer of courtesy, but beneath it, every syllable had undergone several layers of cautious consideration.
Dormammu could not possibly have appeared at this moment merely to congratulate him.
The Lord of the Dark Dimension never did anything without calculating the return.
He had come with a purpose, and whatever guise that purpose wore, it inevitably involved