The situation wasn't much different from how Mephisto had originally chosen Johnny Blaze.
Ordinary souls were difficult to claim. Heaven had its own interests, and Death held authority over the dead. Competing against either was rarely worth the effort.
Marked souls were another matter entirely.
Under Mephisto's contract, Johnny hunted evil souls. On the surface, he looked like a vigilante dispensing justice, an antihero punishing the wicked.
The truth was far less noble.
Every sinful soul he harvested ultimately ended up in Mephisto's fragment of the Hell Dimension, strengthening the old devil's power.
That was one of the major reasons Mephisto had risen from a Skyfather-level devil to a true Universal-level demon lord.
Drex Valen's interest in Johnny stemmed from a different reason.
Johnny wasn't an ordinary Ghost Rider.
A true Ghost Rider drew power directly from Heaven. The Spirit of Vengeance itself had been personally created by God.
After the Great Flood of Noah's Ark, God realized humanity's sinful nature remained unchanged. Having already promised never again to punish mankind through such catastrophic means, He instead created the Spirits of Vengeance to watch over humanity's darker impulses.
These spirits descended to Earth as living flames, bonding with human hosts and becoming Ghost Riders.
Their purpose was simple.
Punish evil.
Avenge the innocent.
Cleanse corruption wherever it took root.
They existed as natural enemies of sin itself.
When a true Ghost Rider destroyed a sinner, that soul was erased completely. It did not pass into any Hell Dimension, nor did it strengthen devils or demons.
In many ways, Ghost Riders were less agents of vengeance and more manifestations of divine wrath.
Johnny, however, wasn't a normal Ghost Rider.
Strictly speaking, he wasn't one at all.
The entity bound to him was Zarathos.
A former Hell Dimension demon lord defeated and enslaved by Mephisto.
That distinction gave Johnny far greater potential than any ordinary Ghost Rider.
And history had proven it.
In countless timelines and stories, Johnny Blaze had become the most powerful Ghost Rider of them all. There were versions of him capable of battling Mephisto repeatedly for sport, and even versions that slaughtered their way across the Marvel Universe.
Granted, this Johnny belonged to the movie universe. He probably lacked that level of terrifying power.
Still.
Potential was potential.
That alone made him worth acquiring.
As for why Drex spent so much effort harvesting souls instead of simply hunting other dimensional gods and devouring them?
The answer was obvious.
Neither Heaven nor Mephisto focused on that strategy either.
If beings that ancient and cunning preferred collecting souls, there had to be a reason.
Drex didn't claim to understand every cosmic secret, but he had learned one useful lesson:
When powerful people keep doing the same thing for billions of years, it's usually worth paying attention.
Mephisto, in particular, had spent ages manipulating souls across countless universes, steadily climbing from a Skyfather-level devil to a Universal-level demon lord.
In some realities, he'd even schemed his way into becoming Satan itself.
And that title carried far greater significance than most realized.
The ruler known as Satan possessed the authority to gather the countless fragmented pieces of the Hell Dimension into a single whole. Whoever achieved that feat would become a true Multiversal-level supreme demon.
Every lesser lord ruling a Hell fragment would live or die at Satan's command.
Clearly, souls mattered.
A lot.
Drex wanted to reach the Multiversal level as quickly as possible. The looming threat of the God Rune remained on his mind.
But advancement wasn't something that happened overnight.
Otherwise, among the countless dimensional gods scattered throughout existence, there would be far more than three true Multiversal demon lords.
The Vishanti didn't count.
The three entities functioned as a single unified existence.
They were effectively one being.
Johnny Blaze never had a chance to resist.
Drex dragged him directly into the Black Hole Dimension.
When Johnny emerged, the process was complete.
A mark from the Black Hole Dimension had been branded onto his soul.
From that moment forward, Johnny belonged entirely to Drex.
Drex studied him for a moment.
Then frowned.
What a disappointment.
This version of Johnny was far weaker than he'd expected.
Still, Drex decided to be generous.
He empowered him.
"Sir, don't you think this is a bit excessive?"
An elderly gentleman approached, leaning casually on a walking cane.
His shadow stretched unnaturally across the ground.
Behind him rose the silhouette of a monstrous devil.
Mephisto.
The moment he sensed his control over Johnny's soul disappear, the old devil abandoned any concerns about agreements with Heaven and rushed into the mortal world.
Then he found Drex.
And Johnny.
Someone had stolen his favorite Rider.
Naturally, he wasn't pleased.
"Mephisto?" Drex glanced at him. "This universe's version is weaker than I expected. Though I suppose this is only a projection."
At some point, Drex had already appeared behind him.
Mephisto never even noticed.
Those were the last words the devil heard before his consciousness vanished completely.
Against dimensional entities unable to bring their true forms into reality, Drex was effectively invincible.
Truthfully, even if their real bodies arrived, the result wouldn't change much.
Take Cyttorak, for example.
One of the most powerful dimensional gods in existence.
If Cyttorak ever stepped outside the Crimson Dimension, Drex would happily kill him and devour the entire dimension afterward.
"Johnny."
Drex turned toward his newest servant.
"What are you waiting for? Go do your job."
The motorcycle beneath Johnny suddenly twisted and transformed.
Black Hole Dimension energy flooded through the machine.
Metal groaned.
Fire erupted.
Within seconds, the bike had become a monstrous heavy motorcycle wrapped in roaring black flames.
Johnny screamed.
Black fire engulfed him from head to toe.
Flesh vanished.
A burning skeletal figure emerged.
A Ghost Rider clad in black hellfire.
The Ghost Rider of this cinematic universe had never appeared before.
As a result, Johnny's transformation immediately attracted attention.
S.H.I.E.L.D. noticed him almost at once.
"What the hell is that?"
Surveillance feeds displayed the image clearly.
A flaming skeleton riding through New York atop a motorcycle wreathed in black fire.
Agent Coulson stared at the screen.
"Has Hell upgraded its technology recently?"
The joke received no laughter.
Everyone present looked alarmed.
Nick Fury was no exception.
Years earlier, Captain Marvel had already taught him that humanity wasn't alone in the universe.
Aliens existed.
That revelation had been difficult enough.
But Hell?
That was new.
And judging from Johnny's appearance, anyone would assume he had ridden straight out of the underworld.
A reaper.
A hell knight.
A collector of souls.
Villain practically radiated from every inch of him.
Meanwhile, Johnny had very little control over where he was going.
The motorcycle dragged him through the streets at terrifying speed, startling countless New Yorkers before finally charging straight into Hell's Kitchen.
Then he crashed through the entrance of an underground casino operated by a criminal syndicate.
The gamblers inside froze.
Seeing a flaming skull in the middle of the night was already terrifying enough.
Then Johnny spoke.
"Sinners! Your corruption and your stained souls stand condemned. I will be your judge!"
Panic exploded throughout the room.
S.H.I.E.L.D. continued tracking him in real time.
Multiple agents were dispatched to establish contact with the apparent messenger from Hell.
Curiously, none of them arrived.
One vehicle suffered engine failure.
Another crashed into a tree.
A third blew a tire.
An endless chain of unfortunate accidents delayed every team.
After all, S.H.I.E.L.D. agents liked to believe they served justice.
But plenty of Hydra agents worked within the organization as well.
And even among the loyal ones, not everyone possessed a completely clear conscience.