In Asgard, the fierce duel for the throne had raged on for an entire day.
Boom!
With a deafening clash, Thor and Hela were driven apart once again, their weapons sparking as they recoiled from the impact.
Hela regarded Thor solemnly, her eyes betraying a hint of fear. His resilience was monstrous. Her Necrosword, forged from the darkest magic and wielding the power of death, could barely leave a scratch on his impervious body. No matter how precise or forceful her strikes were, they failed to inflict any significant damage. Only when she unleashed her full power could she pose the slightest threat.
Thor, wielding Stormbreaker, stood unyielding. The artifact's unrivalled, a weapon that amplified its wielder's strength severalfold. With it, Thor had become a force of nature—an unstoppable storm that even Hela, the Goddess of Death, struggled to counter.
Because of this, Hela now bore serious injuries. Her once-effortless regeneration, a gift of her divine essence, was suppressed by the powerful enchantments imbued in Stormbreaker. She had never faced a foe capable of this.
The realization stung. The mighty Goddess of Death, who had struck fear into the hearts of gods and mortals alike, now found herself unable to stand against her brother. It was ironic—a bitter pill she was forced to swallow.
"No!" Hela snarled, her voice trembling with fury and desperation. "I will not lose to you!"
Clenching her jaw, she chanted an incantation. The Necrosword in her hand pulsed with black energy, growing to an enormous size—tens of meters long—before she swung it with all her might, pouring every ounce of her power into the attack.
Boom!
The impact echoed through the battlefield as her strike was met by the unyielding edge of Stormbreaker. Thor blocked the attack with ease, his stance unwavering.
Hela's eyes widened in disbelief. Her strongest blow, capable of cutting through mountains, had been effortlessly deflected.
"Are you still unwilling to give up?" Thor asked, his tone calm but tinged with a hint of disappointment. "Our power shouldn't be wasted here. It should be used to conquer and protect, not to destroy one another."
Thor's words were not empty. Deep down, he didn't wish to see his sister fall. Hela's strength was undeniable, and her mastery over death made her a formidable ally. If she could be convinced to submit, she would bolster Asgard's might immeasurably.
Hela glared at him, her pride refusing to yield. On the battlefield, Fenrir, her loyal wolf, let out a pained roar as it was struck down once more by Surtur's black dragon.
The clash of fire and shadow continued relentlessly, but it was clear that Fenrir was outmatched. As the wolf struggled to rise, Hela clenched her fists tightly, her pride and rage battling against the reality before her.
Finally, with a long, weary sigh, she raised her hand. "Enough. Call her off."
The flames surrounding Fenrir receded as Surtur's dragon obeyed Thor's silent command.
Hela reached into her robes and retrieved a crystalline object, tossing it toward Thor with a flick of her wrist.
Thor caught it deftly, his eyes narrowing. "What is this?"
Hela's voice was resigned as she replied, "What you came here for. The souls of the Valkyries—every last one of them. They're all inside."
Thor examined the crystal, and sure enough, it shimmered with an ethereal light. Within, he could see the faint, ghostly forms of the Valkyrie souls. Though weakened, their presence was unmistakable.
Hela took a step forward, her gaze lingering on the souls within the crystal. "They may be fragile now, but with time, they'll regain their strength. Once they do, Asgard's invincible army will rise again."
The audience erupted into cheers, their voices echoing throughout the grand arena. For them, the outcome was clear. Thor, the heir to the throne, had proven himself once again. Hela, despite her lineage, was still an outsider in their eyes.
Hela dropped to one knee, bowing her head in submission. "I yield."
Thor stepped forward, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You've made the right choice," he said solemnly. "Together, we'll rebuild Asgard stronger than ever."
He turned to the crowd and raised his hand. "Lower the shield!"
In the arena's control room, the operator nodded and began deactivating the protective barrier. Unbeknownst to them, a shadowy figure crept closer.
"No! Who are you?! Ah—"
A sharp cry rang out as the figure attacked, silencing the operator and sabotaging the mechanism.
Back in the arena, Thor watched as the protective shield, which had begun to fall, suddenly surged back to full strength, glowing brighter than before.
"What's going on?" Thor shouted, his instincts screaming that something was wrong.
A guard rushed forward, breathless. "Your Highness, the control room has been compromised! The mechanism has been destroyed by an unknown intruder!"
Thor's heart sank. "What?!"
The crowd murmured in confusion and unease. Today, of all days, an attack during such a pivotal moment?
"Could it be an outside enemy?" Hela asked, her expression dark.
Thor's eyes narrowed. "Whoever it is, they didn't come to trap us. This is part of a larger plan."
He reached for the Sling Ring hanging from his belt, intending to open a portal, but the golden energy dissipated as quickly as it appeared.
"The shield is blocking spatial transmission…" Thor muttered. "Damn it! My mastery of this magic isn't enough to bypass Asgard's defenses."
He paused, his mind racing. Only the Ancient One or the Tesseract itself could ignore Asgard's spatial restrictions…
"Check the treasure vault!" he commanded, his voice urgent.
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