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The air reeked of ash, ozone, and death. The once-proud halls of New Asgard lay in ruins, jagged remnants of towers standing like broken spears against a storm-wracked sky. The wind howled, carrying embers from the eternal fires that still burned in the wreckage of shattered homes.
And in the heart of this graveyard of gods, two figures stood, each a force that could shake the cosmos itself.
One was Thor.
Not the hero of Midgard. Not the warrior of legend.
This was Old Thor.
A man who had lost everything.
A god who no longer sought to protect, but to destroy.
His one good eye burned with unholy light, his face a weathered map of war, his hair long and wild, stained with dirt and blood. And in his grip—the Necrosword. Blacker than the void, pulsing with the hunger of a god-killer.
The other figure was Aiden Blake.
Fire raged in his veins. Lightning coursed through his flesh. Darkness curled around him like the whispers of ancient horrors. His Demon Dragon Slayer Form was in full force—the Fiery Crown above his head, the Draconic-Demonic Wings spread wide, and his crimson-black lightning armor crackling with power.
This battle was not for glory.
This battle was for survival.
Aiden had to win.
Because if he didn't—he would never go home.
He thought of Eve, his little sister, his pride. He thought of his mother and father. He thought of his friends, his world, the looming threat of Galactus.
He needed to live.
And to live—Thor had to die.
Then the storm broke.
Thor moved first.
He was fast—too fast for an old man. One moment he was standing, the next—he was on top of Aiden, swinging Mjolnir with the fury of a god who had lost everything.
Aiden barely had time to raise his arms before the hammer connected—
BOOM.
The impact was like a meteor strike.
Aiden was launched through the ruins, crashing through stone and steel before slamming into what remained of a castle tower. Debris rained down, burying him.
Pain exploded through his body. His skull throbbed. His arms ached.
Fast. He's fast.
Aiden barely had time to recover before the ground beneath him split open—Thor was already there, lifting Mjolnir again.
"DIE!"
The hammer came down.
Aiden rolled at the last second. The ground shattered beneath the hammer's impact, sending shockwaves rippling through the battlefield.
Thor turned, swinging sideways—this time with the Necrosword.
Aiden ducked, but the blade still grazed his shoulder—black energy seared through his flesh, burning deeper than fire, deeper than lightning. A wound that didn't bleed—it devoured.
Aiden gritted his teeth.
He couldn't get hit by that again.
He retaliated with a blast of Hellfire, his palm erupting with a vortex of black, green, and red flames. The heat melted the very stone beneath them—but Thor didn't dodge.
The flames swallowed him.
For a brief moment, Aiden thought it worked.
Then—
"IS THAT ALL?"
The fire parted.
Thor walked through it, untouched.
Aiden barely had time to register the impossibility of it before Thor was in front of him again.
Lightning? No. Not gonna work. Fire? Not enough.
That left—darkness.
Aiden's eyes flashed.
"Abyss Rend!"
He slashed his arm through the air, and from his fingertips, a wave of eldritch darkness erupted, surging forward like the maw of a great beast.
Thor lifted the Necrosword and—cut through it.
The darkness screamed as it was torn apart.
Too strong. He's too strong.
Aiden barely had time to think before Thor was already attacking again.
Mjolnir slammed into his ribs.
CRACK.
Aiden coughed blood.
His body flew back like a broken doll, smashing into a collapsed pillar.
He barely managed to get to his feet before—
THOR WAS ALREADY THERE.
This time, Aiden didn't try to dodge.
Instead—he met Thor head-on.
Flames coated his fists.
Lightning crackled around his body.
Darkness swirled like a living shadow.
The two warriors collided.
Aiden's flame-covered fist slammed into Thor's jaw.
Thor's Mjolnir-covered fist crashed into Aiden's skull.
Both were launched backward.
Aiden hit the ground, rolling, the world spinning around him. His vision blurred, his ears rang. His skull throbbed—he swore he felt something crack.
Thor skidded to a stop, blood dripping from his mouth.
For a moment, the two just stood there.
Breathing.
Bleeding.
Then—
"AGAIN!" Thor roared.
And they charged.
Fists met flesh.
Lightning clashed with darkness.
Fire met godly rage.
Each strike shattered the earth.
Each attack burned the sky.
Neither held back.
Aiden roared as he unleashed a storm of dragon fire, his Hell Dragon Slayer Magic filling the battlefield with flames that turned stone to magma.
Thor howled as he called the storm itself, the heavens splitting apart as black lightning rained down, turning the ruins of New Asgard into a battlefield of apocalypse.
They were dying.
Both of them.
But neither stopped.
Neither could.
Thor's eye was bloodshot, his breath ragged, his body trembling.
Aiden's body was covered in wounds, his bones barely holding together, his vision darkening at the edges.
But he had to win.
For his family.
For his friends.
For Eve.
Thor lunged with the Necrosword—Aiden barely dodged, the tip grazing his ribs and tearing through his armor like paper.
Aiden countered, his claws glowing with pure abyssal lightning—he slashed Thor across the chest, leaving a wound that smoked with eldritch corruption.
Thor staggered.
Aiden panted.
They were both at their limits.
And then—
Thor moved.
Faster than Aiden had ever seen.
The Necrosword sank deep into his chest.
Aiden's eyes widened.
Pain—**unimaginable pain—**ripped through his body.
Thor loomed over him, breathing hard, gripping the sword buried in Aiden's flesh. His face was twisted, a mix of rage, sorrow, and madness.
Aiden looked up at him.
And then—
He smiled.
"Deja vu."
Darkness took him.
.....
Aidan's soul was falling.
No, plunging—dragged downward into an abyss with no end, no light, no escape.
The darkness here wasn't mere emptiness. It was alive. It was hungry.
Shadowy tendrils slithered and coiled around him like starving eels, tearing into his very essence. Jagged, fanged maws opened and latched onto him, their slimy tongues slathering over his fleshless soul, sinking in, ripping away. They devoured him in pieces, in bites—each mouth taking something. His magic. His memories. His being.
But Aidan wasn't focused on them.
No—something worse was watching.
A sword.
Long, black, and writhing like a living thing, its blade twisted and covered in a slithering, shifting mass of mouths and eyes. The largest mouth, near its hilt, grinned.
"You… are delicious," the Necrosword purred, its voice slithering through his mind like a whisper of venom."Not even Thor tasted this sweet. But you? Your soul is unlike anything I have ever feasted upon. I could strip you away, take you, make you mine. Why should I waste myself on Thor when I can claim you?"
Aidan stared at the monstrous blade, his body slowly breaking apart, his soul unraveling.
And then—
He started laughing.
A low chuckle at first, then louder. Louder. Until it was a full-bodied, manic, howling laughter that echoed through the abyss like a madman's hymn.
The Necrosword tilted its head—if a sword could be said to have one. Its many mouths frowned in confusion.
"Have you lost your mind, wretch?"
Aidan's laughter cut off instantly. His face twisted into a grin, wide and sharp. His eyes burned with something beyond insanity—understanding.
"No... No, no, no… It's just too damn funny."
"What is?" the sword sneered.
Aidan exhaled, shaking his head. Then his grin grew wider.
"I lost," he said simply. "I really fucking lost. Again. For a second time. I failed. I was going to die. And you—" he gestured at the sword, "—you were going to take everything I was. And I'd just be another name, another soul devoured by the great and mighty Necrosword."
His tone dripped with sarcasm, mockery.
The sword grinned. "Yes. You understand your place now. Good. Now scream for me, little soul—"
Aidan's grin turned sharp.
"But see—here's the part that really kills me."
He leaned forward, eyes glinting like a predator who had just won.
"You arrogant, dumb, fucking sword…"
The abyss trembled. The tendrils that had been devouring Aidan's soul froze.
"You shouldn't have entered my soul on your own."
The Necrosword's mouths twitched.
Then—the change began.
Aidan's body—no, his very essence—shifted.
His broken soul didn't break apart—it reassembled. The void that had been consuming him? It began to writhe. Not in hunger—but in pain.
Because Aidan wasn't the one being consumed anymore.
"Oh… oh, fuck," the Necrosword realized.
A thousand writhing arms burst from the darkness, each glowing with unfathomable power.
Not red. Not blue. Not gold.
Rainbow.
Hands of every color—Prismatic Power—shot out, grasping, seizing, crushing.
The Necrosword screamed. It thrashed. It struggled.
"NO! IMPOSSIBLE! I AM THE FIRST AND LAST OF MY KIND! I AM THE DEATH OF GODS! I AM ETERNAL!"
Aidan sneered.
"And now? You're mine."
The rainbow glow darkened—black tendrils coiled over the prismatic hands, corrupting them, consuming them, until the light was gone.
A new force replaced it.
Not just Dragon Slayer Magic.
Not just God Slayer Magic.
Not just Demon Magic.
Something deeper. Something older. Something that had never existed before.
Aidan's voice echoed through the abyss—dark, guttural, changed.
"Absorption complete."
The abyss collapsed.
{Obtained: Abyss God Slayer Magic}
And the last thing the Necrosword saw… was Aidan's smile.
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If you Like this story! Check out my other story ! Lord of Chaos In Dc!
AND
If you wish to read more or simply support me just because ? than check out my patreon at
"https://www.patreon.com/Riadooo"
You can Get Access to 3 More Chapters OR 7 More Chapters if you want !