Multiverse's Ghost Rider

"What did you just do?!" Viola's face turned pale as she stared at the swirling black vortex where Jon had vanished. On the other side of that dark rift lay the endless Void.

Mecca coughed up a mouthful of thick, black blood and flashed a maniacal grin. "Isn't it obvious? I threw him into the Void!"

"You've lost your mind!" Viola stepped forward, her palm glowing with magic as she grabbed Mecca by the throat and lifted him off the ground.

The Void was home to countless eldritch horrors, dark entities that devoured anything in their path. Even a high-tier witch would be torn apart within moments there. And while Jon was no ordinary man, Viola couldn't imagine anyone surviving that place for long.

"Bring him back!" she commanded, her voice sharp with fury.

"Heh... Sorry, no can do," Mecca rasped, wincing but still smiling. To him, the agony was nothing compared to the grief of losing Belith.

"This is an ability we Voidborn can only use once in our lives. I used my soul to open a rift to the Void. And because I was one of the most gifted in my clan... I linked it directly to the domain of a Void Lord," he wheezed through his cracked lips. "You know what happens if a Void Lord's feeding is interrupted, it could spell disaster for this entire world."

His soul was visibly disintegrating now, his voice growing weaker with every word. Yet his smile remained, serene and satisfied.

To him, this was victory. A noble sacrifice for Belith—revenge fulfilled. He was the only one who could do it, and he had done it.

"You madman!" Viola growled.

"Yes! I'm insane! Because that bastard stole everything I ever loved!" Mecca roared.

But just then, the voice he hated most in the world echoed from the rift:

"Sigh… Was that really necessary?"

From the swirling depths of the Void, a figure descended slowly, gracefully. Jon landed with the style of a seasoned superhero, straightened up, and locked eyes with Mecca.

Mecca's pupils shrank. His breathing faltered. He pointed a trembling finger at the man who had just walked out of a cosmic nightmare alive.

"Y-You…"

Jon ignored his shock and calmly said, "You followed her for sixty years and never knew what she truly wanted. She never told you anything about her real plans because to her, you were just a convenient tool."

"So what?" Mecca rasped. "I followed her willingly!"

Jon sighed. "What about your clan? Your family? You had people who cared about you."

"They've long abandoned me," Mecca muttered bitterly. "If they hadn't, they'd have reached out. But they didn't."

Jon gave a knowing smile. "Are you sure they didn't?"

Mecca blinked, hesitating. "What do you mean?"

"You left without a word. Your enemies twisted the narrative, piled false charges on you, and used that to have your entire family sentenced to death. They were fed to the Void, as offerings to the very same Void Lord whose realm you just opened."

After killing Belith, Jon had absorbed her memories. He knew everything she'd planned, every dark secret she'd kept buried.

"That's impossible!" Mecca stammered. "Even if I was labeled a traitor, that punishment should have fallen on me alone. It shouldn't have involved them!"

"I told you, when people want to frame someone, they'll find a way. You disappeared. They used that as justification. The longer you stayed away, the more suspicious you looked. Your family paid the price."

Mecca's face twisted in disbelief. "No… if that were true, they would've tried to contact me. I would've heard something. Anything!"

Jon shook his head. "You really don't get it, do you? Belith intercepted everything. Your family's messages, their attempts to reach you, all blocked. Your clan leader suspected you more and more because no one could get in touch. That's what sealed their fate."

Mecca's soul was fading fast now. His body trembled as his consciousness began to fracture, but he clung desperately to his last scraps of awareness.

"So... so she did all that... to keep me at her side? Because she believed I was useful?" he whispered.

Watching him unravel, Jon could only shake his head. "Man... even now, you're clinging to that delusion?"

"She must have valued me..." Mecca muttered.

"If she did," Jon cut in sharply, "don't you think she would've treated you better? She couldn't have cared less about you."

That line hit Mecca like a hammer to the chest.

"Then why...? Why would she do all that?" he asked, voice cracking.

Jon's expression darkened. "Because her ultimate goal... was to wipe out your entire clan."

"What?!"

"Your family held immense influence among the Voidborn. Taking them out quietly made her task a lot easier. And why? Because she hated your kind to her core. Your people used dark creatures like witches, vampires, and werewolves as sacrificial offerings to your so-called Void Lords. Her best friend was killed in one of those rituals. Everything she did, every monstrous thing was to wipe the Voidborn off the face of the Earth."

Jon exhaled slowly. "I misjudged her. She was evil, no doubt... but she was also brave. The only one who dared to seek vengeance against the Voidborn."

These weren't just empty words, this was truth unearthed from Belith's own memories.

"And now," Jon continued, voice resolute, "since you Voidborn are a clan steeped in sin... I'll carry out her final wish and finish what she started."

"You... you wouldn't dare!" Mecca stumbled backward.

It was strange, he was dying, his soul evaporating into nothing, and yet... he was terrified of this young man standing before him.

Terrified of Jon.