Six years old. For an ordinary child, it's an age of play, first friends, and an endless sense of safety under the wings of family. For Johnny Blaze, the son of circus performers, it could have been a time of carefree childhood—if not for one exception.

Reincarnation. Memories of a past life. A chance to get everything right on a second try.

Once, there lived an ordinary man in a completely different reality. His past was utterly mundane, with nothing remarkable about it. He worked, enjoyed comic books, and immersed himself in fantasies about the Marvel Universe. His passion was Ghost Rider comics. He knew every version of the character—Johnny Blaze, Danny Ketch, Alejandra Jones, and even the rare heroes who bore the Rider's curse only temporarily.

For decades, he read about Ghost Rider, admired the character’s tragic yet majestic image. Ghost Rider’s powers—fiery chains, hellfire, a magical bike, and, of course, the Penance Stare—instilled fear and awe. But any true fan of Ghost Rider knew not just about his power but also the curse that came with it. The devastating influence of Zarathos, the Spirit of Vengeance, brought pain and suffering to every Rider.

Now, that man with an unremarkable life had awakened as Johnny Blaze. Six-year-old Johnny Blaze.

The faint glow of a kerosene lamp illuminated the room. Drapes, an old carpet on the floor, a few toys in the corner. A creaky crib under his back. The distant smell of horses. This was the look and feel of a circus tent. Home, sweet home.

The harsh reality of this new life had sunk in a few days ago. During that time, he had already tackled the two most critical tasks for any reincarnator.

First, using whatever tools he could find, he confirmed that this was indeed the Marvel Universe. He wasn’t just a namesake of the famous character. Mutants and sorcerers genuinely existed here. That was good—things would definitely not be boring.

Second, he resolved his self-identity crisis. He had inherited the body, emotions, and memories of six-year-old Johnny. Although there weren’t many memories, they were vivid. He decided firmly to consider himself Johnny, who had simply recalled a past life.

"His parents are my parents. His friends are my friends," he thought and made a decision. "And that's right.”

Now he lay in his crib, pondering the future. In the next tent, his father slept like the dead after a grueling motorcycle training session. His mother twitched in her sleep, plagued by nightmares of a flaming skull, but his father’s hand calmed her. Nearby, in a cradle, his younger brother and sister snored peacefully.

Tears welled up in Johnny's eyes. He knew what fate awaited this family. He knew it all too well.

Mephisto, the infernal trickster and archdemon, was a master manipulator. He didn’t need to kill or destroy with his own hands. He always operated through lies, distortions, and schemes. Naomi Kale, his mother, was his first victim in this story.

This story needed to be told from the beginning.

Naomi wasn’t just his mother—she was the heiress of a magical bloodline. Everyone with cursed blood bore the mark of Zarathos, the Spirit of Vengeance. Anyone from this cursed lineage could become Ghost Rider against their will.

Right now, that burden lay with Naomi. When she thought everyone was fast asleep, she would go out on her nighttime hunts: her skin igniting in hellfire, her bike’s flaming wheels tearing through the roads, sinners praying one last time.

In the comics, Mephisto learned about the power of the cursed bloodline and sought a personal Ghost Rider. He would disguise himself as a prophet and give Naomi a false prophecy, convincing her that her family would perish if she stayed with them. To save them, she would leave her husband and children. That decision would become the catalyst for all the Blaze family’s misfortunes.

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

It only got worse from there:

Barton Blaze, Johnny’s father, would die six months later while attempting a dangerous stunt. He would take that risk to fill the void left by his wife’s departure. Mephisto would sabotage his motorcycle’s parts.

Barbara, Johnny’s younger sister, would be killed in a gang shootout before finishing school. Mephisto would lure her into the crossfire through deceit.

Danny, his younger brother, would become a Ghost Rider against his will and later die from a drug addiction. Mephisto would pave the way to his tragic end.

And Johnny… would first end up in foster care, then sell his soul, becoming Ghost Rider and Mephisto’s pawn.

But the worst fate was Naomi’s. She would literally tear her soul apart trying to save her family, only for it to be in vain.

This was wrong. Too cruel. Too unjust.

It all needed to be fixed. Everyone needed to be saved.

A six-year-old boy couldn’t fight an archdemon, but he had the power of knowledge.

Could he use his comic knowledge to call for help? Unfortunately, no. Johnny Blaze belonged to the first wave of superheroes. The Avengers and the Fantastic Four didn’t exist yet. Doctor Strange hadn’t even begun studying magic. Johnny would have to handle this himself.

The first step was assessing the enemy.

He knew Mephisto wasn’t the true Satan. He wasn’t an all-powerful devil but a mere speck on the grand tapestry of the universe, pretending to be more than he was. His magic was strong but not absolute. Earth’s heroes had opposed and defeated him multiple times. Even the Red Leader, a man without magic, had outsmarted him.

The true Satan hid beyond the farthest reaches of the nine hundred and ninety-ninth circle of Hell. Thankfully, he had little influence on Ghost Rider’s story.

Still, even though Mephisto wasn’t an omnipotent king of Hell, just the ruler of one circle, he was a formidable sorcerer. Like Voldemort, killing him completely was extremely difficult.

Out of all available resources, Naomi was the only one who could stand up to him. She was a Ghost Rider, her power a genuine legacy of the magical bloodline. Her spirit was made to fight darkness.

In the comics, Alejandra Jones, another Rider, had literally torn out Mephisto’s heart.

Naomi could do the same. If she realized her true strength and Mephisto’s weaknesses, she could pull the Blaze family out of their cycle of suffering.

But how could Johnny convince her? How could he explain everything without revealing his past life knowledge?

From reading fanfiction, the reincarnator knew that revealing this secret was a terrible idea—it would make life unbearable. Still, if nothing else worked, he would have to lay his cards on the table. The alternative—becoming Mephisto’s pawn—was far worse. No, losing his family was even worse than that.

Naomi was his mother. He remembered how she bought him his first toys, her smile warmer than the sun. Barton was his father. He remembered how his dad taught him to ride a bike—no bruises or scrapes that day because his father’s strong hands were always ready to catch him. Barbara and Danny were his siblings. He remembered the tenderness of holding them for the first time, eagerly awaiting the day they’d call him for help as their older brother.

Johnny’s heart ached at the thought of losing them.

He closed his eyes and recalled how, in his past life, he was captivated by the same heroes who now surrounded him. He knew the entire Ghost Rider chronology: from his first encounter with Mephisto to his battle with the archangel Zadkiel, who tried to seize Heaven. He knew about his rivalry with Lilith, about Robbie Reyes and his complicated relationship with his uncle. He knew how Alejandra Jones fought for freedom.

But above all, he knew the weaknesses of demons. Even an archdemon like Mephisto was bound by the laws of magic. Contracts and obligations tied him more than he admitted. Played correctly, it was possible not only to outwit him but to utterly destroy his plans.

Johnny opened his eyes. He understood that his mission wasn’t just to survive. He had to break this cursed script. He had to save them all.

Naomi wouldn’t abandon her family. Johnny would tell her the truth, presenting it as a prophetic dream. Barton wouldn’t die because Johnny would convince him to change careers. Barbara wouldn’t perish because Johnny would protect her. Danny wouldn’t become an addict because he’d always have his older brother’s support.

And Mephisto... That trickster demon, that infernal fraud, that archdemon with an inflated ego… he would meet his end. Or, at the very least, lose everything he held dear.

Johnny sat up in his bed, clenching his tiny fists. His eyes sparkled with determination.

"You don’t know who you’re messing with, Mephisto," the boy whispered. "But you’ll find out soon enough."

Johnny smiled. A long battle lay ahead, but everything depended on him now. He swore to himself that, for the first time, Ghost Rider’s story would have a happy ending.