Indeed, just as Hela had predicted, Odin's pride had taken a solid blow.
And true to form, the old man wasn't the type to turn around and walk away without salvaging something—anything—to cling to his dignity.
But alas, from the way things stood, Hela wasn't in the mood to yield either.
Unlike her father, she hadn't yet mastered the ancient art of 'strategic bending.' Not that she cared to.
"You do realize that what you're doing is tantamount to a declaration of war against Asgard," Odin said, his voice low but thunderous in its warning. "And you know what happens to those who wage war on Asgard… right?"
Hela smirked like someone who'd just been asked if she remembered how her own life went sideways. "Yeah. You lock them up for a couple of centuries, let them rot just long enough to plot a comeback, and then act surprised when they return stronger. Really working out great so far."
A dig, plain and simple. And not unearned.
Whether it was Bor or Odin, both Allfathers had a bizarre habit of shelving threats instead of eliminating them.
Beat them, bind them, and then forget them—until they break out and return with a vengeance.
Honestly, poor Thor was practically inheriting a throne with centuries of overdue villain returns. At this point, ruling Asgard was like managing a backlog of magical prison escapees.
Odin's gaze darkened, and the sky mirrored his mood. A rumble of thunder echoed ominously overhead.
"So be it," he said. "You may walk freely today, but the moment you set foot on Asgardian soil without a sign of surrender, you will be treated not as my daughter, but as my enemy. My mercy will end there."
It was the final inch he would retreat—not for her sake, but because the Allfather still had a reputation to uphold.
One could hardly preach virtue and mercy to his sons while publicly disowning his daughter without a ceremonial line in the sand. It had to be done with gravitas.
And of course, as if on cue, the thunder intensified. The clouds darkened, and a dramatic breeze flared Odin's cloak in Asgard just for his projection to disappear, right for maximum theatricality.
The man couldn't leave without a proper exit—after all, what was the point of being a god if you couldn't farm a little aura on your way out?
From his arrival to his departure, not even three minutes had passed.
But such was the way of Asgardians—direct, decisive, and not particularly interested in small talk. If they'd had a royal etiquette book, 'skip the greetings, go straight to threats' would be chapter one.
With Odin gone, silence took his place like an awkward dinner guest.
Magneto, once again sidelined after being used as a prop in the divine showdown, stood awkwardly like a man who just realized he wasn't the main character in this scene.
Hela, red in the face and trying very hard not to look at Jean, wanted to melt into the ground out of secondhand embarrassment. And the Ancient One? She just wanted some tea with Hela.
Eventually, it was the Ancient One who broke the stalemate.
With the serene detachment only someone who's looked into fourteen million possible futures can pull off, she offered gently, "It seems you still have some unfinished business. Afterward, I hope you'll visit me. I have an exceptional blend I'd like you to try—aged over a century, steeped in silence.
Hela blinked. The Ancient One's calmness was like a slap to the face with a silk glove.
The Sorcerer Supreme, however, wasn't worried. She'd sensed no killing intent from Hela—not the kind that precedes a massacre, anyway. Which meant, for now, Earth was safe.
With that, she stepped through a golden portal and vanished, leaving behind only the scent of chamomile and mystery.
Hela stared at the spot where she had stood. 'That's it? Just tea? No cosmic puzzle? No test of worthiness? No metaphysical trial in a mirrored realm?'
She screamed from the inside, 'I wasted a year trapped in Hel, clawed my way back to sanity, then spent weeks hiding near Jean, practiced speeches in case someone tried to smite me, and it could've been settled over tea? What the actual Hel? Are Ancient One and Odin playing with me?'
Annoyance simmered just beneath the surface. And when Hela was annoyed, nothing soothed her quite like... bullying the weak—err, no, educating the ignorant.
She turned to Magneto with the same expression a teacher reserves for a very stubborn, very wrong student. "So… you're throwing cities around because your people are being mistreated by humans, right? Tired of the persecution?"
Magneto, cautious but proud, nodded once, a true man know where to 'bend over'.
"Then come to my kingdom."
She gestured dramatically, as though inviting him to witness the scale of her domain. "Hel is larger than the entire Earth, and I don't have time for discrimination. You won't be mistreated there—you have my promise, as Queen."
Then she turned to one of the hovering drone, addressing the whole world through its feed with the poise of a queen and the intensity of a preacher:
"Not just mutants. Anyone—if you're feeling unwanted, hopeless, or forgotten… if you're wondering whether tomorrow will be worse than today… if you feel like this world was not made for you—then you are welcome in Hel."
She raised her voice, her power lacing every word.
"In Hel, no one will suffer for their nature. You will have eons—eternity itself—to discover your purpose, to find peace, to find yourself."
The air pulsed around her as the speech ended. The moment called for a show of strength—not just words, but proof.
Hela didn't immediately parted to take the Space Stone. Though it was vital, this moment wasn't about power. It was about perspective.
And from what she was hearing in the minds around her, humans are exactly like she thought. Even now, in the shadows of gods, they were plotting.
She heard their thoughts—leaders, generals, shadowy figures in suits—all thinking the same thing:
'How do we control her?'
'Can she be contained?'
'What does she want?'
Hela's eyes narrowed. She had no intention of playing those games.
So she gave them all a warning.
She didn't need a dramatic pose or flashy spell circles—nah, Hela just reached out. Quietly. Casually. Like flipping a switch in her mind.
And then, boom—every single soul and mind on Earth? She felt them. Billions of them. Some full of fear, others scheming behind fake smiles, and a handful just straight-up panicking in boardrooms. She didn't even try to be gentle.
Everyone—from the street vendor in Bangkok to the guy hiding nukes in a mountain bunker—suddenly felt like the universe had pointed a finger right at them.
The air got thick, the silence got heavy, and something in their primal little monkey brains whispered: 'Oh. We messed up.'
If you wanted a comparison? Imagine Shanks dropping Conqueror's Haki on you while Unohana Retsu stood behind him, smiling like she just found someone worth carving open releasing her bloodlust and Spiritual Pressure.
That was the vibe. Controlled enough that no one passed out, but just enough to make even the cockiest feel their knees wobble.
It lasted maybe three seconds.
Long enough for every power-hungry politician, secret military council, and self-important superhuman to get the memo loud and clear:
This was the one warning. Don't push her.
Then—just like that—the pressure vanished. Like it had never been there.
But you better believe no one would forget it.
.......
I don't know, I just feel like this chapter is perfect—and that Hela just gained +1000 Aura. What do you think?
Do you want more chapters?
Now we are two days before the Power Stones count reset, if by then we were the number one, I would upload two chapters, so don't forget to vote and give me all your money, hahaha.