In Marvel as a summoning Mage

The Ancient One, Yao, stepped forward, her expression as calm as the stillness before a storm. With precise movements, she summoned the Time Stone's power. Green circles of magic illuminated her hands, their light reflecting off the chaos below. With a flick of her wrist, she attempted to rewind the horrific events that had unfolded in Korea—the slaughter, the dark rituals, the rising tower.

But nothing happened.

The sprawling crimson-stained land remained unchanged, the ominous tower towering defiantly over what was once a nation. Not even the mystic might of the Time Stone could undo what had been done.

For the first time in ages, the Ancient One faltered. Her composure cracked, her brows furrowing in confusion and concern. What is this? she thought. What force could defy the laws of time itself?

Mephisto's confident smile twisted into an uncontrollable, manic laugh that echoed across the desolate landscape.

"AHAHAHAHA!! YES!!! THIS IS IT!!! IT'S COMING!! THE KEY OF FATE HAS WORKED!!" he cackled, his voice reverberating with triumph.

Dracula, observing the scene, folded his arms and spoke coldly, his voice devoid of concern. "Mage, even if you kill him now, it's too late. He's under the protection of that accursed key. Not even gods can approach him."

Ignoring Dracula, Mephisto raised his clawed hand and stabbed it into his palm. Thick, demonic blood spilled forth, dripping onto the corrupted land below. The moment the blood touched the ground, an eruption of dark energy surged from the base of the monstrous tower.

The threads of fate connected to the gigantic demonic eye atop the tower began writhing and reaching skyward, glowing ominously. The moment Mephisto's blood fused with the dark ritual, the Key of Fate and Destiny solidified its connection to him.

Mephisto turned toward the Ancient One, his grin widening with malevolent glee. "See? I'm unstoppable now! Not even your precious Time Stone can stand against me. Hahaha! But wait... why am I even bothering to tell you all this? Shit! Only stupid villains reveal their plans, don't they?" He paused, then smirked wickedly.

"Well, a small piece of advice for you, Bald Woman—Earth isn't just facing me. I've hired some new workers to entertain you and your little friends from that other world. Take care of them first, and if you survive, then come and try to stop me. Best of luck!"

With a snap of his fingers, Mephisto opened a portal and flung the Ancient One back to her Sanctum Sanctorum.

As the portal closed, Mephisto turned to Dracula. "Alas, even with fate on my side, I can't rewrite it entirely. True gods, perhaps, can bend fate to their will, but as I am now? A pity. If I could, I'd have turned that irritating Ritsuka Fujimaru into my eternal slave instead of merely plotting his destruction. But hey, beggars can't be choosers."

Dracula regarded Mephisto with a mix of awe and disdain. "It's insane to think a demon like you managed to grasp the concept of fate itself. How did you pull this off? If it's a trade secret, I won't ask."

Mephisto chuckled darkly. "Oh, it's no secret—just the culmination of millions of souls. I harvested their luck, squeezed them dry of hope and joy, and left them with nothing but misery. I've been doing this since the dawn of humanity itself."

Dracula's crimson eyes narrowed. "You bastard. You've truly proven yourself the epitome of evil. This... this is beyond insane. Yet I can't deny the brilliance of it."

"Hahaha! Thank you for the compliment. Now, I've already given you your orders. Open a portal to your kingdom and summon your kind to protect this land. Fate may be on my side, but I know one slip-up could ruin everything. I'm not about to make a rookie mistake."

Dracula smirked. "You're cunning, Mephisto. Almost makes me pity that poor Ritsuka Fujimaru. Facing you... it's a death sentence."

Mephisto's grin returned. "Oh, come now, Dracula. If there's one thing humanity has taught us demons, it's the value of learning from history. Humans may never learn from their past mistakes, but we? We demons thrive on them."

Dracula gave a low chuckle. "A demon learning from human history. Now that's irony at its finest." Without another word, Dracula leapt from the air and landed amidst the blood-soaked ground, vanishing into the shadows to fulfill his task.

As Mephisto watched him leave, the tower glowed a deep crimson. Threads of fate trembled as the demonic eye atop the spire began its ominous work.

"So... rats have come to play," Mephisto murmured, sensing the arrival of unwelcome visitors. "Not part of the plan. Time to deal with them."

In an instant, Mephisto vanished, reappearing within the tower.

With a wave of his hand, he issued his next command. "On my orders, bring those who can save this world and trap them here in my Demonic Watchtower."

The threads of fate moved, their sinister glow reaching toward their targets. Those chosen by destiny to oppose him found themselves ripped from their respective places and flung into the tower's grasp.

The Spire of Fate, drenched in blood and lightning, loomed above all. Hideous and grotesque, it radiated an aura that eclipsed even the darkest realms of hell. Mephisto stood within its walls, his grin unwavering.

"Let's see how the saviors fare when faced with fate itself."

------

Demonic continent (Korea)

The portal shimmered open with a slash from Musashi Miyamoto's blade, an elegant arc that defied the boundaries of reality itself. On the other side, the landscape unfolded like a scene torn from the depths of hell. What was once Korea had transformed into a nightmarish demonic land. The sky, blood-red and oppressive, hung under a crimson moon. The earth writhed, pulsing as if alive, and grotesque demons prowled the broken terrain, their growls echoing through the oppressive air.

Musashi, the legendary swordsman, now weathered with age but no less formidable, stood tall alongside Johnny Blaze. Both men surveyed the scene with grim expressions, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily upon them.

"It's the beginning," Musashi muttered, his voice a mix of solemnity and steel. "The first apocalypse."

Johnny clenched his fists, his resolve hardening. "Sensei, we don't have any more time to waste. I'll head to Hell and follow Zarathos's plan—even if it's insane."

Musashi gave a slight nod, his gaze never leaving the horrific landscape before them. "Anything can happen, Johnny. Stay vigilant. I'll try to contact the Goddess Gaia... summoned hero."

Johnny hesitated, a flicker of frustration crossing his face. "Sensei, we should've met him before. This could've gone differently."

"What did you say?" Musashi's sharp tone left no room for argument.

Johnny shook his head. "It's nothing, Sensei."

Without another word, they both transformed. Musashi ignited into a brilliant blue Ghost Rider, his skeletal visage crackling with ethereal flames. Johnny followed suit, his own Ghost Rider form taking the shape of a spectral samurai. His bike, a fusion of demonic mechanics and spiritual energy, roared to life. Across his back, two katanas gleamed ominously, their hilts connected to massive, otherworldly chains.

"Let's move," Musashi commanded.

Johnny mounted his spectral bike, the katanas swaying ominously behind him as the chains rattled. He surged forward, carving a path through the horde of demons. They fell like leaves before a storm, eviscerated by his precise manipulation of the chains and blades. His movements were fluid, almost effortless, as he cut through the chaos without ever lifting his hands from the handlebars.

"Damn it," Johnny muttered under his breath. "I never thought Sensei would send me on a suicide mission. But if this is what it takes to save humanity—and give that summoned hero a chance—then so be it."

As he approached the towering spire at the heart of the demonic land, he defied gravity itself, driving his bike up its sheer surface. The monstrous tower loomed ever larger, pulsating with ominous energy and ancient symbols that seemed to writhe under the blood-red moonlight.

Johnny gritted his teeth. "This plan is insane, but if it stops Mephisto, it's worth it."

Breaking through the top floor of the tower, Johnny and his bike burst into the chamber with a deafening crash. The room was shrouded in darkness, save for the faint glow of infernal light emanating from a figure standing at its center.

Mephisto.

The demon lord's lips curled into a mocking grin. "Well, now, this is a proper superhero entrance. Wait—don't tell me. This is that old Musashi's plan, isn't it? Did he send you here just to get slaughtered? How quaint."

Johnny dismounted, flames licking his skeletal frame. "It doesn't matter what you think, Mephisto."

"Oh, but it does," Mephisto said, his tone dripping with amusement. In the blink of an eye, he appeared directly before Johnny, his eyes blazing with malevolent power. "You see, in my tower, I'm omnipotent."

Before Johnny could react, Mephisto snapped his fingers. The hellfire surrounding Johnny extinguished in an instant, and his Ghost Rider form shattered like fragile glass. The mortal man beneath was left exposed, vulnerable, and utterly powerless.

Johnny staggered, his eyes wide with shock. "What... what did you do?"

Mephisto chuckled darkly. "Don't worry. I simply turned off your power. Here, in my domain, you're nothing more than a fragile human."

With a casual flick of his wrist, Mephisto sent a devastating kick to Johnny's chest. The force hurled him backward, his body crashing through the air. The tower's jagged edges blurred past him as he plummeted, the wind roaring in his ears.

Johnny hit the ground far below with a sickening thud. He lay motionless, his life extinguished.

High above, Mephisto watched the scene with a twisted smile, his laughter echoing through the demonic spire.

"Fool, but now I need to speed up my plans to trap Ritsuka" he muttered, turning back into the darkness.

--------

New York

The air in the Sanctum Sanctorum of New York crackled with tension as a portal tore open in its center. From it, the Ancient One, Yao, emerged, not with her usual grace but propelled as if hurled by an immense force. Yet, in true form, she landed flawlessly, her robes billowing as she steadied herself. Her face, however, bore a severity that neither Karl Mordo nor Wong had ever seen before.

The two sorcerers rushed toward her, their expressions a mix of shock and concern.

"Master, we detected a massive surge of demonic energy," Mordo said urgently. "It's covering the entire world. If it continues, it's only a matter of time before humanity succumbs to its influence."

Wong added, his voice grim, "What should we do? How do we counter this?"

The Ancient One raised a hand, silencing them. Her gaze was piercing. "No, Mordo. It's already too late for prevention. The darkness has taken root. Alert the Sanctums in New York, London, and Hong Kong. Mobilize every sorcerer under our command. Hold nothing back—this is no longer about containing the threat. This is war."

Both men nodded resolutely, their concern now sharpened into purpose. Mordo hesitated before asking, "And you, Master? Where will you go?"

The Ancient One's eyes narrowed, her voice calm but heavy with meaning. "I must seek out an ally—a helping hand capable of turning the tide."

Wong tilted his head. "An ally? Master, you've mentioned this figure before, but you've never revealed their name. Why the secrecy?"

She turned toward them, her expression inscrutable but her tone resolute. "Because even here, traitors may lurk. But now, there's no room for doubt. His name is Ritsuka Fujimaru."

Mordo exchanged a glance with Wong, confusion flickering across his face. "Ritsuka Fujimaru? Who is he? What power does he hold to aid us in a battle of this magnitude?"

The Ancient One didn't answer directly. Instead, she stepped forward, summoning a swirling portal of golden light. Her voice carried both weight and urgency. "Prepare the Sanctums. Protect humanity at all costs. I will bring him here."

Without another word, she stepped into the portal, its light consuming her as it closed behind her. Mordo and Wong stood in silence for a moment, the enormity of her words sinking in.

Finally, Wong spoke. "If she believes this Ritsuka Fujimaru can help us, then he must be extraordinary."

Mordo frowned, his resolve hardening. "Let's hope she's right. Because if we fail... humanity won't get another chance."

With that, the two sorcerers turned and began their preparations, the weight of the coming battle pressing heavily upon them.

------

Latveria

The grand halls of Castle Doom resonated with the echo of steady footsteps as Doctor Doom emerged from his private chamber, clad in a new, imposing suit. The metal gleamed under the dim light, radiating an aura of power and authority. His cape flowed behind him like the shadow of a storm.

As he walked, he suddenly stopped. Without turning, he spoke in his sharp, commanding tone. "I see you. All of you."

From the shadows, a group of children emerged, their faces lit with mischievous grins. One of them, a bold boy, piped up, "My king, do you have eyes on your back? How do you always know when we try to surprise you during the festivals?"

Doom's voice was cold, yet there was an undercurrent of amusement. "I do not need eyes on my back. I sense everything within my domain, including your feeble attempts at stealth."

Despite the intimidating aura and tone, the children remained unfazed. Instead, they giggled and gathered around him, holding out small, handmade gifts—sweets, drawings of their king, and various trinkets crafted for the New Year. Doom's loyal butler, Boris, stepped forward, bowing deeply as he collected the offerings from Doom's hands.

As the children began to scatter, one girl lingered. Her presence caught Doom's attention, and for a moment, the intimidating ruler knelt to her level. His masked face tilted slightly as he asked, "Why do you remain?"

The girl hesitated, then spoke with quiet courage. "My lord... I recently had eye surgery, thanks to your programs. I was blind from birth, but now I can see. I wanted to thank you."

Doom's voice softened, though his tone remained firm. "Your gratitude is noted. Go and enjoy the light with your peers."

But she didn't move. Instead, she added, "Before I go... may I see your face? The one who gave me sight."

Boris stiffened at the request, his face paling as he stammered, "Child, our lord's face—"

Doom silenced him with a raised hand. His voice was steady but carried a weight of solemnity. "My face is not what you imagine. It is scarred and terrifying. A visage born of failure and fire."

The girl looked at him, her newfound eyes shining with innocence and determination. "I lived in darkness for years. Whatever your face looks like, it could never scare me more than the void I came from."

Doom was struck by her bravery. After a moment of silence, he slowly removed his mask, revealing the scars that marred his once-proud features. The girl stepped closer, undeterred. She leaned in and kissed his cheek, then placed a small flower crown on his head.

"Thank you, my lord," she said with a radiant smile before running off to join the other children.

Boris, still visibly shaken, muttered, "My king... her gesture—"

Doom rose to his full height, handing the crown to his butler. "This crown is now a treasure. Ensure it is preserved in my collection. Use the artifacts in the vault if needed, but it must never be damaged."

Boris bowed deeply. "As you command."

Left alone, Doom turned to the castle's balcony, gazing at the horizon. The night sky was clear, the stars shining brightly. But his thoughts were interrupted when the sky suddenly turned a deep, menacing red. The air grew heavy, and the world seemed to shift.

A dark red portal tore open behind him, crackling with otherworldly energy. Its pull was immediate and fierce. Doom reacted swiftly, summoning his vast arsenal of magic and technological prowess, casting spell after spell to resist the force. But nothing worked.

As he was dragged closer to the portal, he shouted his final command. "Activate the Doom Bots! Protect Latveria at all costs!"

With that, the portal consumed him, leaving only silence in its wake.

______

Fou's Delight Bakery

Ritsuka Fujimaru stood silently by his room's window, the warm teacup resting lightly in his hand as he observed the soft hues of dawn painting the horizon. The usual serenity that came with watching the sunrise was absent, replaced instead by a gnawing unease that had clung to him for the past two days. His expression betrayed none of his feelings, but inwardly, he felt the storm brewing.

A soft thud interrupted his thoughts as Fou leaped onto his shoulder, curling around his neck like a scarf. The small beast nuzzled him gently, its inquisitive chirps breaking the silence.

"Don't worry, Fou," Ritsuka said, his voice calm yet tinged with honesty. "I've been feeling... uneasy. It's like the air itself is whispering that something terrible is about to happen."

Fou tilted its head, sensing the weight of Ritsuka's concern.

Ritsuka set the cup down on the table and sighed, glancing at the calendar. It was the morning of December 31st. He could hear faint laughter outside—the others in the village were preparing for the New Year celebration. It should've been a time of joy, but this year, dread lingered in his heart.

"Everyone's so happy right now," Ritsuka muttered. "But I can't shake this feeling. It's not because it's the New Year or because of all the festivities... it's something else. I sent a message to Tony, Steve, and Nick. They're on their way, but I doubt even they can prepare for this."

Suddenly, the world shifted. The sun, which had barely begun to rise, vanished as the sky turned an unnatural crimson. Snowflakes that had been falling moments ago were replaced by drops of thick, red liquid. A blood rain soaked the earth, painting the pristine white landscape in horror.

Ritsuka's eyes widened as he stepped back instinctively, shielding his face from the macabre downpour. "This... this is Tears of the World." He remembered Da Vinci's explanation of the phenomenon—a tragic event where the very fabric of the planet cries in pain, manifesting through blood rain. The world itself was warning him.

Setting the teacup aside with deliberate calm, Ritsuka quickly donned his coat. Fou hopped off his shoulder and chirped urgently, as if warning him of danger.

"I know, Fou. Something's not right!" he muttered.

Before he could act, the floor beneath him distorted, warping into a swirling, dark red portal. The ground seemed to vanish, and Ritsuka was dragged into the abyss. He activated his skills, using every ounce of his strength to resist, but the space-time fabric itself was working against him. His dark phonix powers are struggling against the overwhelming force. Its as the fate itself pushing him.

"This isn't a coincidence... the war has already begun," Ritsuka whispered grimly as he vanished into the portal.

Fou jumped into the portal before the portal closed.

---

Morgan's POV

In another room, Morgan le Fay was busy tying a delicate ribbon into her daughter Karen's silvery-white hair. She smiled as she worked, the familiar warmth of motherly pride filling her chest. Karen's new dress, lovingly designed and crafted by Morgan herself, made the little girl look as though she had stepped out of a fairytale.

"You look perfect, my little queen," Morgan said softly, placing her hands on Karen's shoulders.

Karen giggled, her bright eyes shining as she admired herself in the mirror. "Mama, do you think Papa will like it?"

Morgan chuckled. "Your Papa will love it. How could he not?"

But before Morgan could respond further, the light in the room dimmed. The air grew heavy, suffused with a sinister energy that sent shivers down her spine. She turned quickly, her instincts as a queen and mage flaring, just as a massive red portal materialized beneath her feet.

Karen's laughter turned to a cry of panic as Morgan was pulled into the swirling void. Despite her vast magical power, Morgan's spells faltered against the portal's overwhelming authority. She gritted her teeth, struggling to resist, but the pull was relentless.

"KAREN!" she called out, her voice echoing as she disappeared into the portal. Her daughter's helpless cries were the last thing she heard before the darkness consumed her.

Each of Ritsuka's companions—Morgan, Void Shiki, Archetype: Earth, and Ereshkigal—were swept away by the crimson tide of portals. As the world itself mourned, the stage was set for the battle to come, and Ritsuka's resolve would soon be tested like never before.

----

Note:

Sorry for late again but i hope you guys liked it.

Now all powerful characters are kidnapped by mephisto but few are still present.

This story divided into 3 parts. One we see Karna team, next All kidnapped Ritsuka wifes story in demonic watch tower and last we will see Ritsuka and doom story.

I'm going to write my best this arc. Its very important.

Well Johnny is dead or not wait and see in future chapters ☺️