COME BACK TOMORROW FOR ANOTHER CHAPTER AT THE SAME TIME. IF I DON'T DELIVER, WELL, I DON'T KNOW, HAHA. THE NEXT ONE WILL BE LONGER AND THERE WILL BE A FIGHT. SPOILER ALERT.
Early chapters on my Patreon.
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The flames of the underworld lit Hela's face, her expression silent and contemplative—until she spoke, a smile heavy with intent curving her lips.
"Vidar… the time has come to reclaim what is mine. What is ours."
Vidar narrowed his eyes, arms crossed.
"Whose allies are you speaking of? Who is it you wish to rescue?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.
Hela turned her gaze, a fierce glint flashing in her eyes.
"My armies lie dormant beneath Asgard, waiting for my call. Warriors who once followed me, whom Odin locked away out of fear. And more than that… my son, Fenris. The great wolf lies chained beneath Asgard's armory, imprisoned by our father's cowardice. With my power and yours, we can break those chains and bring him back."
The name echoed through the hall, reminding Vidar of Fenris's terrifying might from the ancient tales—the world-devouring wolf.
Vidar stood in silence for a few moments, weighing her words. At last, he nodded slowly.
"If Fenris returns… Asgard will tremble once more. And if your warriors awaken, none in the Nine Realms would dare to touch you."
A dark smile curved Hela's lips.
"Then, Vidar, let us claim what belongs to us."
Vidar extended his hand, and the air swirled violently around him. A portal tore open, a circle of light forming in the void. Hela stepped forward first, carrying the majesty of a queen. Vidar followed, wrapped in a distinct blue aura—the unmistakable mark of the Quincy.
The portal sealed shut behind them.
The skies of Asgard darkened without warning. A fierce gust tore through the palace walls, and the warriors patrolling the Bifröst halted, trembling beneath the sudden pressure in the air.
In the throne room, Odin rose from his seat, his single eye fixed on the emptiness ahead. He had felt it before anyone else. That power… that blasphemy that should never have set foot in Asgard again.
A thunderous boom shook the palace gates. The ground quaked, torches flickered, and at last, darkness spread through the golden columns.
From the shadows, two figures emerged.
Hela, her black thorned crown gleaming with the majesty of a queen.
Vidar, standing at her side—calm and dreadful, like a living judgment.
The air grew dense, suffocating.
Odin's eye burned with contained fury.
"So… you return."
Frigga, flanked by Thor and Loki, watched from the steps of the throne. The queen carried the composure of a mother, though her hands were poised to summon magic at a moment's notice. Thor gripped Mjolnir's handle tight, thunder rushing through his veins, eager to strike. Loki, cold and calculating, narrowed his eyes, ready to move at the slightest misstep.
Hela smiled, a blend of mockery and defiance.
"Father… mother. Did you miss us? And these two—my brothers, I presume?"
Vidar stepped forward, and the shadow his figure cast upon the golden walls was enough to make the guards instinctively recoil, fear gripping their chests.
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