"If you are my brother," she said darkly, "then how… how can you be this weak?" Her voice echoed in the void, not angry, but disappointed. "You carry our father's blood, the blood of kings and war, and yet you tremble before me?"
Thor stood frozen for a moment. He couldn't find the words to answer. How could he explain that he had only just learned of her existence? That he had spent his life in ignorance of the wrath and power she represented?
"I…" he started, but his voice faltered.
Hela simply smiled—but there was no warmth in it. Only coldness and .....Danger.
Hela took a slow step forward, chains clinking faintly behind her — the remnants of her binding magic flickering at her wrists. Though she could not pass beyond the prison's edge, her presence filled the void like a storm gathering at sea.
"You hesitate," she said, voice laced with mockery. "Typical. Odin raised you in comfort and lies. I was raised in war. Fed on blood and conquest. Forged by the screams of those who stood against Asgard."
Thor stiffened. "I didn't come to fight."
"No," she said with a dark chuckle. "You came to understand. And what you're starting to see, little brother, is that our father was not the hero he pretended to be."
He clenched his jaw. "Then tell me the truth."
She stepped as close to the edge of her prison as the wards allowed. Just beyond reach. Her eyes bored into his. "Odin didn't banish me for what I did. He banished me for what he taught me to do—and what I became better at than he ever could."
Thor felt a chill settle in his bones.
Then he asked the question that had been burning in him since he left Earth.
"Michael. How does he know about you?"
"Michael? I have never heard of that name in my life," Hela said, as Thor looked at her, trying to determine if she was telling the truth or lying.
Heimdall bowed his head slightly. "She is telling the truth," he said, and Thor fell into silent contemplation.
"Hmm… I wonder now, who is this Michael, if even Heimdall knows about him?" she added thoughtfully.
Thor's eyes narrowed at her words. If even someone like Hela—locked away for centuries and severed from the flow of Midgardian events—had begun to take notice of Michael, then the situation was more serious than he had imagined.
"Heimdall," Thor said firmly, turning back toward the Bifrost gatekeeper. "Take me back to Midgard."
Heimdall gave a slight nod and raised his sword once again, opening the rainbow bridge in a burst of energy and light. As Thor stepped into it, Hela's voice echoed one last time behind him.
"Tell him this, little brother," she called. "If he knows me, then he knows what I am—and he should know better than to speak of things that slumber in darkness."
With a final look over his shoulder, Thor vanished into the Bifrost, the light swallowing him whole.
Back on Earth, storm clouds began to gather above Michael's estate.
With a sudden burst of lightning and a flash of light, Thor descended onto the rooftop of Michael's mansion.
Michael, who was sitting in his room cultivating his aura, opened his eyes and sighed. "What does he want now?" he muttered, standing up and stepping out onto the balcony — only to find Thor waiting for him there.
"What do you want now?" Michael asked as Thor dropped down to eye level with him.
"Fight me," Thor said.
"Huh?" Michael raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "Why do you want to fight now?"
"I just want to see where I stand... in the depth of your power," Thor replied calmly.
Michael looked at him for a moment, then shrugged. "Okay then. I'll test you—just don't blame me later."
As he spoke, Michael let out a breath and released his aura. It radiated from his body like dawn-colored silk, glowing softly yet oppressively, pressing against Thor like invisible waves of weight.
"What is this now?" Thor asked, narrowing his eyes and tightening his grip on Mjolnir. "Last time, you didn't use this."
Michael gave a small, amused smirk. "I just didn't feel like it last time," he said casually, before spreading the glowing wings of his Dawn Aura from his back. With a burst of wind, he soared into the sky, high above the clouds. "Up here—no one else gets hurt," he called down, his voice echoing like light in a cathedral.
Thor nodded and followed, riding the lightning, Mjolnir sparking with storm energy as he ascended rapidly.
The moment Thor reached him, he hurled Mjolnir at full force.
Michael's expression didn't change. With a flick of his hand, a long, radiant sword formed from pure aura energy. "Never met a hammer I couldn't deflect," he said—and with one graceful motion, his sword struck Mjolnir mid-flight, redirecting it with a ringing clang that shattered a cloudbank.
The air cracked with the clash of divine forces as Thor caught Mjolnir mid-return, skidding back in the air from the deflection. Lightning danced across his armor as his eyes glowed white-hot. "Impressive," Thor muttered. "But I'm just getting started."
He spun Mjolnir again, the winds roaring as he hurled himself at Michael with a burst of thunder. Michael's dawn-colored wings flared, and in a blur, he met Thor mid-air. Their weapons clashed—hammer and radiant blade—sending shockwaves that rippled through the clouds.
Below them, the storm intensified, the very skies reacting to their power.
"You're holding back," Michael said, twisting around Thor's swing and countering with a streak of light that grazed his shoulder. "You don't really want to fight me."
"I want answers!" Thor roared, slamming his hammer downward. "About Hela. About you."
Michael parried, but this time he was pushed back slightly—Thor's rage fueling his blows. "So that's what this is about," Michael said, voice steady even as he floated back. "You met her."
Thor stopped mid-air, chest heaving. "She didn't even know you. Not even name. So how do you know so much about her?"
*******
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