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"ODIN!"

Dormammu's roar echoed through the Dark Dimension. He recognized that weapon instantly few things in existence could wound him, and fewer still could pierce his soul. Only one god carried such a spear.

The All-Father. Odin Borson of Asgard.

"Odin," Dormammu snarled. "This is between me and Kamar-Taj. Is Asgard planning to meddle in this war?"

Odin's godly armor gleamed as Gungnir spun back into his hand, lightning dancing across its shaft. His gaze was cold, merciless.

"You seek to devour Earth. Earth lies within my watch, within my dominion. I tolerated your little games before. But now? It's time to settle this properly."

Gone was the warm king who once conversed with Nolan. This was the warlord who had crushed realms, who had led the Aesir in the Wars of the Gods. Countless divine beings had fallen beneath his spear.

Across the cosmos, Odin's name carried weight alongside the Ancient One, he was one of Earth's hidden pillars.

Dormammu's massive eyes flared. For the first time, doubt flickered within. Facing Nolan and the Ancient One, he had been confident. But Odin too? The balance shifted.

The Mirror Dimension shattered, reconnecting Dormammu fully to his realm. Yet even as infinite dark energy surged back into him, he did not feel triumph.

The wound left by Odin's spear refused to close his soul was cracked, beyond the repair of mere shadow.

Nolan pressed forward, fists burning with stellar fury, tearing through waves of shadow.

The Ancient One unleashed spell after spell, demolishing Dormammu's counter-magic, and Odin summoned storms of divine thunder, judgment lightning, raw law of the cosmos, scouring corruption from every corner.

The three pressed him together, striking in rhythm, each supporting the other.

Mirror Dimensions snapped into place to lock Dormammu down, cutting his connection for just a heartbeat, and in that heartbeat, Gungnir struck again.

Dormammu howled. His immense body convulsed under the punishment. "DAMN YOU!"

But then his voice shifted into incantation. Ancient, forbidden syllables rolled like poison across the Dark Dimension.

Even before he became its ruler, Dormammu had been a sorcerer of terrible renown a dark mage whose origin traced back to one of the oldest powers. Chthon.

The true god of chaos magic.

The source of the Darkhold.

Dormammu invoked him now, channeling the dimension itself to draw on Chthon's primordial power. A tide of refined black energy poured into him, eclipsing even his own endless reserves.

The Dark Dimension shuddered.

And then—

A crimson blaze flared.

Scarlet light surged, devouring the incoming dark torrent. It cracked across the void like a whip, annihilating corrupted stars in its path, before snapping against Dormammu's face with a thunderous impact.

He staggered.

"The Darkhold?!" Dormammu bellowed, shocked. "Ancient One you dared hand that book to a witch?"

He knew the Darkhold well Chthon's creation, a grimoire of every black spell ever conceived, laced with his essence. Dormammu had searched for it across Earth, always in vain. It was never meant to be wielded lightly.

And yet the woman in crimson wielded it as if it had been written for her.

Wanda Maximoff.

Chaos magic boiled around her, scarlet tendrils weaving together with the Darkhold's forbidden glyphs. In her hands, dark sorcery was no longer corruption it was a weapon, armor, law. She wasn't merely casting. She was commanding.

Dormammu reeled back, disbelief on his titanic face. That book, that power Chthon's essence himself answering to her?

Of course.

The Scarlet Witch was Chthon's chosen daughter. His vessel, his heir.

The whip cracked again, tearing shadow from Dormammu's body and stripping energy directly from his core. His black flesh split and dissolved under the scarlet assault.

"No…" Dormammu's fury twisted into panic. He lashed out with corrupted magic discs, shattering Odin's lightning, trying to suppress Wanda's spell.

But the harder he struck, the more chaos surged from her, unbound and unstoppable.

Beside her, Nolan hammered in with cosmic fists. The Ancient One layered mirror after mirror of dimensional wards. Odin's thunderstorm scoured the battlefield.

Four titans. One-dimensional god.

Dormammu was being driven back, his power torn apart piece by piece. His body could reform endlessly, but his soul, wounded and flayed from all sides, was faltering. For the first time in his eternal existence—

He was afraid.

"I cannot be killed! You cannot kill me!" he screamed, his voice trembling through the collapsing Dark Dimension.

But even as he shouted, Nolan's senses told him the truth Dormammu's presence was weakening, his aura flickering down to a level barely above the god Bast.

The impossible was happening.

Dormammu was losing.

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