Chthon seethed.
The Flickering Realms trembled beneath the weight of his fury. Spires of bone cracked and collapsed as his raw chaos magic lashed out in every direction. The sky above his throne was a churning storm of screaming voidlight, crimson bolts of reality-shattering energy firing into the endless dark like dying stars.
He watched through a rift.
A narrow tear in space floated before him, showing a perfect view of Genosha's shoreline. Sunlight glittered across the ocean. Laughter echoed from the beach. And there they were... Aron, Natasha, Wanda, Jean, Jubilee, and the others engaged in a ridiculous, joyful game of volleyball like the world wasn't on the brink of oblivion.
Chthon's claws dug into the stone of his throne. Magic bled from his hands, hissing and burning the air around him.
"They dare," he hissed.
The rift pulsed, distorting as his focus sharpened.
Aron dove for the ball with a lazy smirk, kicking up sand and sending the volleyball rocketing into the air. Wanda floated in midair to catch it with a surge of red light, then sent it slamming down toward the other side of the net, where Jean caught it with a flicker of telekinesis, barely holding back her laughter.
Natasha, powered up and glowing faintly with a crimson-gold aura, stood barefoot next to Aron, her expression unreadable... until she smirked and whispered something in his ear that made him snort mid-serve.
Chthon snarled.
"I gave them a warning. I offered terms. And this is their response?"
His voice echoed across the dimension, splitting the air like a blade.
"They celebrate... while I burn."
He rose from his throne, towering, monstrous. His body crackled with chaos energy barely held together by his crumbling form. His wounds from the last clash had not fully healed. The Phoenix flame still lingered inside him like a poison he could not purge.
The rift widened, showing Jubilee now hurling a spike so charged with plasma that it turned the sand beneath it to glass. Kitty phased through it and launched a sneak attack that hit Wanda square in the chest, knocking her into the water. The explosion of splashing and laughter that followed hit Chthon harder than any blade ever could.
They weren't just alive.
They were happy.
He threw back his head and let out a roar that shattered the sky of K'lay. Entire sections of his realm unraveled, folding inward and collapsing as the chaos around him surged out of control.
"I am Chthon!" he bellowed.
"I am the chaos in all things! The first shadow! The whisper in every mind! The curse in every miracle!"
Another rift formed before him. This one showed the boundaries of Earth, glowing faintly with Aron's stabilizing magic. No cracks. No corruption. His influence had been completely erased, his reach sealed by that silver-haired insect and the Phoenix he carried.
Chthon raised a clawed hand.
His body trembled as he channeled his power. The mark of Earth burned in his palm, still present, still linked to his ancient claim over the chaos magic buried within it.
"I will not be cast aside."
The realm beneath his feet began to rise. The bones of his prison stirred, shifting like tectonic plates. He reached deep into the heart of his domain and pulled.
The very fabric of K'lay began to stretch.
He wasn't just going to send a fragment of himself again.
He was preparing to leave.
To manifest in full.
"No more games," he whispered.
"No more messengers. No more will-bound illusions. I will walk the mortal world again, in flesh and chaos and storm."
He closed his fist.
And across the universe, a single hairline crack formed on the edge of the boundary between his realm and reality.
It was small. Insignificant.
But it was a beginning.
On the other side, unaware? Well, probably aware but too arrogant and powerful to care, Aron had just served the ball with casual precision and was grinning as Jubilee shrieked from a surprise teleport spike by Wanda.
...
Meanwhile, high above Genosha, Hela sat on the edge of the main tower, legs crossed, arms resting on her knees, and her dark hair swaying gently in the wind. The black and green of her armor shimmered in the sun, but she looked almost... bored.
Below her, the island was vibrant with life.
Children ran through the streets, mutants of all shapes and abilities mingled freely, vendors called out over fresh fruits and tech trinkets, and somewhere in the distance, laughter erupted from the beach volleyball game.
It was chaos, yes... but a joyful kind.
Hela narrowed her eyes.
It was unnerving.
She tilted her head slightly, watching Jubilee chase a beach ball into the water, only to get tackled by Kitty and dragged under in a splash of limbs and curses. Wanda, barefoot and wet, levitated the ball back with a wave of her fingers, smirking.
Even Aron looked... content.
At peace.
Hela furrowed her brow.
"Disgusting," she muttered under her breath. "All this... smiling. Feels like I'm watching a poorly written play."
Her fingers tapped idly against her thigh. "And they do this every day? Like, every day? No one's been stabbed in, what, three days now?"
It wasn't that she disliked peace. Well, maybe she did. A little. Okay, a lot. But it wasn't just boredom crawling up her spine. It was unfamiliarity.
Hela was a being forged in conquest, tempered by betrayal, and crowned in blood. Asgard's executioner. Queen of the damned.
Now?
Now she was third-wheeling Aron's weird beach utopia while sipping mango smoothies and pretending she wasn't getting soft.
She glanced at her hand, still clad in the black shimmer of her necromantic armor, and flexed it.
She hadn't summoned a single blade in three days. Hadn't fought anything after the battle on Asgard.
The last real challenge she faced was deciding whether to use the infinity pool or the rooftop sauna.
She groaned and leaned back against the spire, one leg dangling over the edge.
"I used to decapitate gods for fun," she grumbled. "Now I'm debating which swimsuit won't clash with my aura."
And yet...
Her gaze drifted back to the shoreline, where Aron was now laughing, actually laughing, as Natasha poked him in the ribs for missing a set. The sight tugged something deep in her chest.
She scowled at the feeling. Like it was an itch she couldn't scratch.
Peace wasn't supposed to be part of her story.
But maybe...
She glanced toward the horizon. The skies were calm now, but something darker was approaching. She could feel it. Like a heartbeat in the roots of the world.
"Five years," she whispered, watching Aron from afar.
A promise made. A promise she'd keep.
"I have to do something to make him mine. But how?"
[The Next Morning – Hela's Private Chamber]
Hela stared at her reflection.
Hard.
The full-length mirror stood quietly against the wall, betraying no judgment, but she swore it was mocking her. She was still in her battle armor... black and green with slight hints of silver, shoulders sharp, presence darker than a dying star.
She looked powerful.
Untouchable.
Also, absolutely undateable.
She groaned and turned away from the mirror, pacing. Her cape fluttered behind her like a war banner, looking for someone to decapitate.
"This is stupid," she muttered. "I've led armies. I've crushed pantheons. I've broken the will of entire realms."
She turned back to the mirror, frowned, and then pointed at her reflection.
"You will not be defeated by a man."
Pause.
"…A very handsome, frustrating, silver-haired godlike man who resurrects cities and makes mango shakes like they're holy relics."
She sat on the edge of the obsidian table, glaring into space.
She didn't get it.
She had flirted before—if snarling across a battlefield while simultaneously choking someone counted. Apparently, it didn't. Jean said something about "emotional vulnerability" and "being approachable." Which, to Hela, translated as "look less like a death goddess and more like a walking invitation to brunch."
Which sounded like weakness.
Which she was not.
But she also wasn't blind.
Aron had the attention of everyone. He was magnetic. Even people who tried to hate him somehow ended up wanting to either punch him or kiss him.
Sometimes both.
Hela didn't want to compete.
She wanted to win.
And yet, the thought of simply walking up to him and saying, "So, do you want to conquer a realm together or maybe just go to dinner?" made her want to bury herself under the palace and scream for eternity.
She stood again.
Flexed her fingers.
Summoned a sword just to feel something.
Then sighed and let it dissolve into green mist.
"Okay. Think. What does he like?"
She turned toward a chalkboard she'd summoned earlier. It was filled with bullet points, check marks, and hastily drawn hearts that she would absolutely deny creating.
Aron Likes:
Phoenix Force (duh)
Nat. Ugh. She's cool. Whatever.
Pancakes
Talking dogs??
Kind of likes chaos, but not evil chaos. Hero chaos?
Peace. Freaking peace.
People who can kick ass
Hela stared at the list.
None of it helped.
She could kick ass. She had that in spades. But the rest? Emotional connection? Trust? Affection? She was more familiar with raising the dead than raising... conversation starters.
She sighed again. Loudly.
Then...
A knock.
She spun, instantly summoning a dagger into her palm. "Who dares..."
The door creaked open and Pixie peeked in, levitating slightly, cotton-candy hair bouncing. "Um. So, Jean said you were having a 'soul crisis' and Kitty sent me with this?"
She floated in a small book and dropped it on Hela's table.
Title:How to Win a Man Without Summoning an Army or Raising the Dead (A Mutant's Guide to Modern Romance)
Hela stared at it.
"I'm going to burn this."
"You might wanna read chapter four first," Pixie chirped. "It's about how not to look terrifying when smiling."
"I don't smile."
"Yeah. It talks about that too."
Pixie vanished in a puff of sparkles before Hela could throw the book at her.
Hela glared at the door.
Then the book.
Then back at the door.
After a moment's hesitation, she slowly picked the book up.
Flipped to chapter four.
Chapter 4: "Soft Eyes, Not Soul-Devouring Eyes"
She narrowed her eyes.
"…I don't like this."
Still…
She read it anyway.
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AN: I planned to end it as I said before, but after many requests, I decided to end it properly without a cliffhanger and a big fight, well, at this point just face slapping.😅So, yeah, it's ending in another 20 or so chs, but you'll get a proper closure.👍🫡
Oh, you'll get a batch release as soon as I finish the story. See ya.