As the six monstrous beasts charged at Mark, their sheer size and power were overwhelming. They lunged from midair, their massive jaws and claws ready to tear him apart. But Mark was prepared; in an instant, he turned invisible and intangible, his form phasing through the beasts as he darted toward Satan with incredible speed. His fist, infused with all the strength he could muster, aimed straight at Satan's throne.

However, as he struck, an invisible force repelled him with unimaginable power. The impact sent Mark hurtling back, his intangibility and invisibility shattered by the force of the blow. He was thrown across the chamber, crashing into the ground with such force that it felt like a dwarf star had collided with the surface, leaving a massive crater in his wake.

Stunned and injured, Mark struggled to rise, his body aching from the brutal impact. Before he could fully recover, the third beast pounced, its enormous jaws clamping down on him, attempting to crush him in its maw. But Mark fought back, gripping the beast's teeth with all his might as it tried to devour him. In a desperate move, he unleashed his heat vision at full power, sending searing beams of energy through the creature's mouth. The heat vision tore through the beast's insides, burning it from the inside out. The creature's organs incinerated, and its heart exploded out from its rear, leaving the beast's body split in half and its remains splattered across the ground in a grotesque rain of blood and gore.

But there was no time to rest. The second beast, with its grotesque third eye, unleashed a devastating beam that struck Mark in midair, sending him reeling. As he plummeted, the fifth beast's massive serpentine tail lashed out, catching him and tossing him aside with tremendous force. Before he could regain his balance, Mark was struck again—this time by a coordinated assault from the first and sixth beasts.

The first beast, with its body covered in eyes, fused them into a single, massive eye, channeling dark energy into a blast aimed directly at Mark. Simultaneously, the sixth beast unleashed a torrent of hellfire from its breath, the combined attack overwhelming Mark. He crashed into the ground with a devastating impact, unable to move as the fourth beast pinned him down, growling menacingly over his unconscious form. The other beasts closed in, surrounding Mark, ready to deliver the final blow.

But just as they were about to tear him apart, they halted, frozen in place by an unspoken command from their master. Satan had spoken without words, his will alone enough to stay the beasts' deadly assault. Moments later, Mark regained consciousness, disoriented but alive. He saw the beasts retreating to their positions, and the remains of the third beast he had killed still littering the ground.

Satan, still seated on his throne, observed Mark with a dark, calculating gaze. "You have impressed me, Mark McCoy," he said, his voice echoing through the chamber. "Few have the strength and will to face my beasts and live to tell the tale. You even dared to strike at me, a commendable effort, though futile."

Mark, though battered and weary, listened intently, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear and hope.

"As a reward for your persistence," Satan continued, "I will aid you in your quest to return to your world."

Relief washed over Mark at Satan's words. He had survived the unimaginable, and now, finally, he was being granted the chance to return home.

"But know this," Satan added, his tone turning ominous. "The path you have chosen is fraught with danger. The test of strength you have faced here is but a shadow of what awaits you in the world above. The battles you fight there will shape the fate of your universe. So, tread carefully, warrior, for your journey is far from over."

With a wave of his hand, Satan conjured a portal, a swirling vortex of dark energy that pulsed with ominous power. "This is the bridge between life and death, between realms and dimensions," he declared, his voice carrying the weight of countless ages. The portal shimmered with anti-life energy, a sentient force tainted by both holy and unholy magic, acting as a guardian to prevent souls from escaping the torment of Hell. It was this same magic that bound Satan and his minions, keeping them from crossing into the world of the living.

"This path, known as the Trinity of Judgment, is the only way back to your world," Satan continued. "But know this: no one, not even I, nor the angels, have been able to traverse it. The magic within erases anything that dares to breach it. Gods, pantheons, and deities have tried—and all have failed."

Despite the exhaustion etched into his bones, Mark McCoy stepped forward, his resolve unshaken. He was determined to return and face whatever awaited him in his world. As he approached the portal, he took a deep breath, his eyes fixed on the swirling maelstrom before him. Memories of his training with OLX flashed in his mind—lessons on how to navigate the treacherous boundaries between dimensions. But what lay ahead was unlike anything he had ever encountered, a realm beyond the laws of reality that even the gods themselves feared to tread.

With determination burning in his gaze, Mark assumed the stance of a speedster, mimicking the poised posture of an athletic runner. The ground beneath him began to tremble, and the air around him whirled with energy. In that charged moment, he exhaled sharply and launched himself forward, accelerating beyond the speed of light. The force of his departure was so intense that it extinguished a portion of Hell's fiery landscape as he hurtled into the Trinity of Judgment.

As he was consumed by the vortex, the last sound he heard was Satan's voice, echoing in his mind like a lingering shadow. "Remember, Mark McCoy, even the greatest of warriors can fall. Do not let your strength become your weakness."

Those words stayed with him as he was transported back to his universe. The horrors of Hell clung to him like a second skin, and he knew that the battles ahead would be his most challenging yet. But no matter the cost, he was prepared to face them.

***

Meanwhile, in the depths of Hell, Lilith emerged from the shadows, her presence both reverent and seductive. Satan, having resumed a more human form, greeted her with a possessive arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close.

"Does this Tetronian meet your expectations, my love?" Lilith asked, her voice a soft, eager whisper as she searched his eyes for an answer. "Is he the one who will set us free from this prison?"

Satan's gaze was thoughtful as he replied, "I believe he is. He is unlike any other being enslaved in our kingdom. There is an untapped potential within him."

Lilith's eyes sparkled with interest. "Intriguing. I was told he would emerge victorious against Buer, one of our most loyal and powerful generals."

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Satan's lips curled into a knowing smile as he drew her in for a kiss, their passion igniting in the darkness. As their lips met, his thoughts turned inward, contemplating the future that lay ahead. "Yes, he'd defeat Buer," Satan mused silently, "but that victory is insignificant. There are others, generals far more potent than Buer, who await the great tribulation against all of creation."

His thoughts echoed with the promise of impending freedom, as Lilith's touch fueled his desire. The wheels of fate had been set in motion, and soon, all of creation would tremble before them.

***

Within the Trinity of Judgment, also known as the Bridge of Uncertainty, Mark McCoy hurtled forward at a speed that defied comprehension. Yet, the energy within and around the bridge was far more potent and overwhelming than anything he had ever encountered. The sheer force of it tugged at him, straining his very essence. His skin began to tear away, his face partially burning and decaying from the anti-life energy that sought to erase him from existence.

But Mark's resolve was unyielding. With a surge of determination, he pushed through the unbearable pain, drawing on reserves of strength he hadn't known he possessed. He shattered dimensional barriers beyond those of any known reality, ripping through the fabric of existence itself. Limbo and the astral planes, void and chaos, dark matter, antimatter, anti-life, holy and unholy magic—all were left in ruins as he transcended the barriers of life and death, breaking through the circle of reincarnation, and traversing the dual energies that sustained creation.

Finally, he emerged back into his universe, his body naked and ravaged by the ordeal. As he descended to Earth, healing from his wounds, he was greeted by a sight that filled him with dread.

The once vibrant world he had known was now a wasteland. The skies were choked with thick fog and fallen debris, the atmosphere tinged with a toxic pallor. The cityscape lay in ruins, a grim testament to the devastation that had befallen the planet. Lifeless bodies were strewn across the landscape, brutally torn apart, some hanging like tattered rags from poles, bridges, and the skeletal remains of buildings. Animals, too, had met the same gruesome fate, their corpses scattered among the human carnage.

The air was thick with the stench of blood and charred flesh. The bodies of fallen heroes and allies lay among the alien grotesques, monstrous creatures of every size and shape. Buildings had been torn asunder, towering skyscrapers reduced to rubble. Warships lay shattered on the ground, burnt and dismantled. Boats and ships, once symbols of human ingenuity, had been cast into the sea, their remains floating aimlessly on the water's surface.

In the midst of this desolation, Mark spotted a few survivors, hiding in fear at the sight of him. The world was beyond recognition, and as he took off toward Vill-City, he realized that the devastation extended far beyond what he had initially seen. His mind raced, trying to piece together what could have caused such destruction.

When he arrived at the headquarters of the Guardians of Earth, the scene was no less horrifying. The place was a desolate shell, barely recognizable. Sparks of electricity crackled from live wires hanging haphazardly, and the floor was soaked with water, adding to the sense of ruin. Mark approached the Tek computer, noticing that despite the shattered monitor and glitching screen, it still had a flicker of life. He activated it, hoping to find some clue as to what had transpired.

As he worked, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Someone was approaching. He sensed the presence behind him before hearing the voice.

"Stay right where you are," the stranger commanded, the cold tone underlined by the hum of a high-tech firearm. "Turn around slowly, hands in the air."

Mark obeyed, turning slowly to face his potential attacker. As their eyes met, recognition sparked between them, a silence heavy with shock and disbelief.

"Mark 2?" The voice, now softer, almost a whisper, belonged to an elderly man who looked at Mark with wide eyes. It was Mark Grayson Junior, his best friend, now aged and weathered, with a beard that added to his rugged appearance.

"Grayson," Mark McCoy responded, equally stunned, his voice thick with emotion.

For a moment, they stood frozen, taking in the sight of one another after so many years. Then, as if by instinct, they embraced, holding on as if to anchor themselves in the reality of this long-awaited reunion.

Mark Junior pulled back slightly, still incredulous. "I never thought I'd see you again. We all lost hope."

Mark McCoy, equally shaken, surveyed the wreckage around them. "What happened here?"

"You have a lot of catching up to do, Mark," Mark Junior replied, his voice filled with both sorrow and determination. He handed Mark some clothes, and as his friend dressed, he added, "Come on. I'll take you to safety."

With that, they moved together through the ruins, two friends reunited in a world that had changed beyond all recognition, both knowing that the road ahead would be fraught with challenges, but facing it together nonetheless.

***

They arrived at an underground bunker, a place where the last remnants of humanity had taken refuge. Mark McCoy, upon seeing the huddled survivors, was struck by the weight of it all. His mind raced with questions, particularly one that gnawed at him: *How long had he been gone?*

Mark Junior led him deeper into the bunker, where they were greeted by the sight of Amanda, who welcomed Mark Junior with a kiss. The scene took Mark McCoy by surprise, but there was little time to process it as Mark Junior introduced him to Amanda.

The moment Amanda saw Mark, her eyes widened in shock, and she rushed forward to embrace him, tears streaming down her face. "Amanda," Mark whispered her name softly, his voice thick with emotion.

"I thought I had lost you, Mark," Amanda said through her tears, holding him tightly. "Ever since you were gone... after your battle with Tekno Witch..." Her voice trembled, heavy with the pain and longing that had built up over the years.

Mark wrapped his arms around her, feeling a flood of emotions that he couldn't fully comprehend. As they slowly pulled away from each other, Amanda wiped her tears and looked into his eyes.

"Amanda," Mark whispered again, his voice shaky, his eyes reflecting the turmoil within. "What happened here?"

"The Tetronians," Amanda responded, her words hitting Mark like a blow. His eyes widened in disbelief.

"Mark," Amanda continued, her voice filled with a sorrow that only time could bring. "It's been fifty years since we last saw you."

"Fifty years?" Mark echoed, his voice barely above a whisper. The words echoed in his mind, incomprehensible and overwhelming. *Fifty years*—he had missed fifty years of their lives.

As his gaze wandered across the bunker, he took in the grim reality of what was left of humanity. Survivors were scattered about, some sick, some injured, some clinging to life in the cold and dimly lit shelter. The air was thick with the scent of decay, and the weight of despair was palpable. Mark spotted Mark Junior with a young girl by his side, and then his eyes fell on Amanda again. He noticed a wedding ring on her finger.

Amanda followed his gaze and saw the confusion and pain in his eyes. "A lot has happened, Mark," she said softly. "During those years... I found love with Mark Junior, and we had a daughter. Her name is Lydia."

Mark's heart sank further, the reality of how much time had passed weighing heavily on him. But there was no anger, only a deep sense of loss and resignation. He had been gone for so long, and the world had moved on without him.

Mark Junior and Amanda led him to the inner chambers of the bunker, a place where they still had access to some of Teknight's technology. It was there, in the dim light of that hidden room, that the truth was revealed to Mark McCoy. They told him of the battles he had missed, the hardships they had endured, and the losses that had reshaped their lives. They spoke of the Tetronian invasion, the fall of cities, the death of friends, and the gradual collapse of civilization.

Mark listened in silence, absorbing every word, every detail. When they finished, he shared his own story—his journey through the Trinity of Judgment, his battle against the forces of Hell, and the horrors he had witnessed. They listened with rapt attention, understanding that while they had fought their battles on Earth, Mark had been fighting his own in realms beyond their comprehension.

In that underground bunker, surrounded by the remnants of humanity, Mark McCoy realized just how much had changed. The world he had known was gone, replaced by a harsher, more brutal reality. But he also knew that as long as he had breath in his body, he would continue to fight—to protect those he loved and to reclaim whatever remained of the world he once knew.