Multiverse's Ghost Rider

Jon launched a fierce kick—there was a sharp crack as his foot struck something, but then, just as suddenly, it passed through thin air.

The figure shattered like glass, fading into fragments.

"An illusion? Too afraid to face me head-on? Pathetic coward," Jon muttered coldly.

He had already suspected that Kaecilius would seek him out. After all, he'd tangled with Dormammu's power during his fight with Red Hood and had recently been cooperating with the Ancient One. There was no reason for Kaecilius to ignore him.

What puzzled him was why Kaecilius had waited so long—now he realized the answer: fear. Kaecilius hadn't dared to come himself and instead sent a projection to try and persuade him.

"Tch, forget it. He's not worth my time, let Doctor Strange deal with him," Jon shrugged.

The rest of the day settled back into routine. Ever since the Battle of New York, most major supervillains had quieted down. The formation of the Avengers had clearly sent a message—one that made even mid-level criminals think twice before stirring trouble.

Jon continued working at his repair shop as usual. In his downtime, he'd mess with the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents still assigned to monitor him—tampering with their memories using his flash drive or trapping them in mild illusions just for fun.

At this point, he half-worried about the day S.H.I.E.L.D. stopped sending people to tail him. Who would he torment for entertainment then?

That evening, he clocked out and returned home. This blend of thrill and calm had become his new normal. The thought of returning to a truly ordinary life felt strangely foreign now.

***

Later, lying in bed, Jon pulled up his system panel again. He wasn't expecting anything new, just browsing, but to his surprise, a fresh prompt appeared.

[Ding! Random World Search Complete "Dark Fairy Tale World" discovered. Unlocking this world costs 18,000 Penalty Points. Proceed? Yes / No]

"A new world?" Jon murmured, narrowing his eyes at the screen. "Dark Fairy Tale World… well, at least the name's straightforward. Sounds twisted enough. But eighteen thousand points?! That's nearly double the American Horror Stories's world. What the hell's hiding in there?"

Still, without too much thought, Jon clicked [Yes].

"Whatever. I've got points to spare, and the pricier the ticket, the bigger the payoff… usually."

The familiar glowing white doorway unfolded in his mind's eye. A moment of dizziness, and Jon stepped into a new reality.

When his vision cleared, he found himself standing in a vast, snow-covered landscape. The cold bit into the air. All around him were frost-covered woods, gnarled trees, most of them bare, and many clearly chopped down.

Then came a scream.

"Ah—damn it!"

Jon turned toward the sound and spotted a burly young man leaning against a thick tree trunk. He held a hunting rifle and was grimacing as he rolled up his pants leg to reveal a swollen, reddened ankle—clearly a bite wound.

The man noticed him.

"Hey! You there—can you help me out?"

Jon approached and crouched to inspect the injury. "What bit you? …Shit. That looks like venom."

"No kidding. A viper!" the hunter growled.

"A snake? Shouldn't they be hibernating by now?" Jon asked with a frown.

"Exactly. Anyone who lives near these parts knows that. That's why I didn't expect it—I let my guard down. And you, stranger… I've never seen you around here before. You must be from outside the region. Look, this forest used to be peaceful. The animals were tame, almost… spiritual. They never attacked people. But something's changed in the past few years. I don't know what the hell is going on."

Jon's gaze sharpened. In fantasy worlds like this, a sudden shift in animal behavior usually meant something darker, like demonic corruption or invasion by some otherworldly force.

"Look, I know this is gross to ask, but… could you suck the venom out for me? I can't reach my ankle and—"

The man extended his dirty, clearly unwashed foot.

Jon gagged. That thing probably hadn't been washed in years.

"Hell no. I'm not putting my mouth anywhere near that," Jon said flatly. "But I've got another way."

He drew his wand and muttered a spell. A warm light washed over the man's leg, purging the venom instantly.

The hunter stared, wide-eyed. "That was magic! My god… are you a witch?"

Jon twitched. "Do I look like a woman to you?"

"Then… a male witch?" the man offered. "Anyway, didn't anyone tell you? This kingdom's under a Witch Hunt Decree. Anyone caught using magic is burned alive!"

"I just got here. Still figuring things out," Jon replied casually.

Burn me alive? Try it. Let's see who ends up in flames.

"But you… you don't seem to hate witches," Jon asked, observing the man's tone.

"Of course not," the man said without hesitation. "Before I became a hunter, I got poisoned by some wild berries in this very forest. Thought I was going to die. A witch saved me. And today, you—a male witch—just saved me again. I know now… witches aren't what the king says they are."

He stood up and extended a hand. "I'm Gaston."

"Jon," he replied, shaking it.

"Well, Jon, my village is the only settlement nearby. You're welcome to come back with me and rest."

"Gladly. Thanks." Jon nodded. He needed a base of operations anyway, and some local intel wouldn't hurt.

He was intrigued by this forest. If it had once been vibrant and now turned hostile, something had to be behind the change.

And Gaston had mentioned a witch in these woods. Was she still here? Or had she become part of the darkness corrupting this land?

Jon narrowed his eyes.

One way or another, he'd find out.