Chapter 15: The Unboxing – Family Reunion in a Pocket Dimension.
[HELA'S PRISON DIMENSION – SECONDS LATER]
The dimensional shift was instant, dark, and thankfully, glitter-free. I landed lightly on the obsidian ground, the air immediately heavy and cold, thick with centuries of pent-up resentment. Loki materialized beside me, brushing ash from his already sooty robes.
"Remarkably efficient for beings obsessed with ribbons," Loki murmured, referring to the vanishing Dark Elf escorts. He looked around the desolate landscape, the twilight sky pulsing above us. "Now, where is the Asset?"
"Wait," I commanded, pulling out the small slate bearing Hela's prophecy. "We have to play this carefully. She's expecting a return to Asgard to fight. We need to introduce the 'Thanos Problem' immediately and present ourselves as equals."
Loki nodded, his face uncharacteristically serious. "She's attracted to ambition, not subservience. She is also keenly aware of deception. We must not show weakness."
A low, resonant voice sliced through the air, sending vibrations through the rock beneath our feet.
"I knew my little brother couldn't resist a peek."
Hela rose from her throne, her armor snapping into place around her. She looked even more magnificent up close—pure, unadulterated primal power. The cruel smile was back, wider now, predatory.
"And you brought the woman who preaches fashion. Have you come to discuss the color palette for my coronation, step-mother?"
"Actually, we're here to discuss the color palette for the galaxy," I replied, stepping forward before Loki could speak. I forced myself to project the sheer, unblinking confidence of a seasoned TV executive. "And yes, we brought a proposal."
Hela snapped her fingers, summoning a massive black sword that floated in the air beside her. "I already have a proposal: death. It's efficient."
"It's boring," Loki cut in, adopting his most arrogant courtier pose. "It's small-minded. You waste your talent squabbling over Asgard when there is a universe ready for the taking."
"The universe will be mine when I destroy the lie my father built," Hela countered, her voice hardening.
"A lie that Thanos is about to expose and then claim for himself," I said, hitting the core of my pitch.
"You focus on the past; he's focusing on the Stones. The Space Stone, the Mind Stone, the Reality Stone—he's collecting them all, Hela. And when he arrives, all your power and all your armies will be nothing but dust on his metaphorical gauntlet."
Hela's eyes flashed with genuine fury—not just rage, but the white-hot heat of a conqueror realizing she's been outmaneuvered.
"Thanos," she spat the name. "A scavenger. He dare challenge the throne of Asgard?"
"He doesn't care about the throne," I explained, pulling out a small, highly detailed, and entirely imaginary map of the known cosmos. "He cares about wiping out half of all life. And if you're busy crushing Asgard's marble walkways, you'll be too late to stop him from taking the whole board."
I leaned forward. "We have the asset, Hela. We have the Eternal Flame—secured and ready to use, but only on our terms. We have the Strategic Alliance of the Dark Elves—capable of moving assets across realms invisibly. We have the plan to stop Thanos.
All you have to do is accept the partnership, use your power to secure the remaining Stones, and agree to the Three-Phase Non-Aggression Pact."
Loki quietly conjured a scroll—a highly decorative legal document, looking exactly like the Love Contract, but titled The Grand Pact of Cosmic Conquest.
Hela looked from the scroll to Loki's smug face, then back to me. The raw power surrounding her began to recede, replaced by shrewd calculation.
"The Pact... with the All-Father?"
"With the Queen," I corrected firmly. "The one who sees your value beyond your ability to kill. The one who can get you out of this dimensional box right now. You sign, you walk out free, you get the universe. You refuse, and we leave you here to face Thanos alone."
Hela stood, walking slowly off her throne and stopping right in front of me. She towered over me, her breath cold and sharp.
"I need proof," she demanded. "Proof the old man is weak enough, and you are ambitious enough."
Loki stepped forward, holding the Pact scroll. "Proof is in the terms, Sister. Your first assignment is to go with us to a neutral planet, where Mother will reveal the location of the next Stone. And you will wear... this."
Loki snapped his fingers, and he conjured a tasteful, but clearly restrictive, chain-link armor overlay that shimmered over Hela's existing outfit. It wasn't strong enough to hold her, but it acted as a visible, ceremonial sign of the "Pact."
Hela looked down at the shimmering, slightly tacky overlay. Her mouth twitched. "You put... a leash on the Goddess of Death?"
"No," I smiled. "We put a designer accessory on the Goddess of Cosmic Conquest. Now sign the fine print, Hela."
Hela looked at the scroll, her eyes lingering on the tiny, glowing runes—Loki's magic.
She knew that signing meant temporary submission, but also immediate, unlimited power. The promise of outsmarting her father and Thanos was too tempting.
With a smirk that could shatter diamonds, she snatched the scroll from Loki. A bolt of dark power erupted from her hand, signing her name in runes of pure obsidian energy.
"Done," she announced, the sound ringing with dangerous anticipation. "Now, let's leave this terrible dimension. It has absolutely no flair."
Loki grinned, retrieving the signed contract. "We shall fix that lack of flair, Sister. Immediately."
He turned to the darkness, signaling our Dark Elf guides. The dimension ripped open, showing the turbulent, rainbow-drenched chaos of the Bifrost.
Hela stood poised, ready to step back into the world, an unlikely ally now bound by a pact of shared ambition and terrible taste in fashion.
To Be Continued...