As the rubble and debris settled and the cloud of dust began to dissipate, the battle looked to be won. Large beams of partially destroyed steel were strewn about the area of the massive crater, leaving the smoldering piles of rock and concrete hidden beneath them. However, the debris hid something else as well, the deep raspy breathing of The Maul. Straining and groaning, the Demon pushed the layers of destruction off of his form, now a different sight than before. The once thick armor was in shambles, torn to pieces by Apocalypse and showing the true body of the beast. Where Diabolus may have once had hide, Free's attack had stripped it nearly completely. Beneath the shreds of armor, hung thick strands of red flesh, clinging to blackened bones and oozing the same foul, black liquid that once filled his now vacant eyes. Deep within his chest, a pulsing aura of dark red light shone through the revealed ribs of the demon.

His life force, protected by the thick armor and hulking mass of the beast, had survived the blast, though not by much. With a thunderous roar, the demon raised his bleeding hands skyward as a black shadow began to take shape, gathering darkness from the very shadows given off by the beating heart of the colossus. The form of Diabolus' great maul was beginning to take shape, and with it, the weight of nearly 500 tons of iron. Regardless of actions taken against him, the Beast's focus was on the hammer, pulling it from the dark void to destroy everything within reach. It did not take long before the weapon was fully formed and the Demon gripped the shaft tightly as chains bolted themselves around his damaged hands. With the weapon already raised, Diabolus was determined to unleash everything he had left.