"Indeed, no matter how much she's changed over the years, her essence remains the same—bloodthirsty and cruel, completely devoid of compassion," Odin said, doing his best impression of a wise old man. He even nailed the dramatic pause.
Surrounding him were only two people: Frigga, his ever-graceful wife—who had a strange mix of familiarity and unfamiliarity with Hela, whom he was talking about—and Loki, who was doing an excellent job pretending not to be nervous.
But, of course, he was nervous. How could he not be?
After all that 'hard work'—aka plotting, scheming, and manipulating things from the shadows—he'd finally seen Thor get banished to Midgard and stripped of his powers and memories.
That should've been a win. Odin was clearly dissatisfied with Thor, which, in Loki's mind, meant one less rival for the throne.
Sure, Balder was still technically in the picture, but Loki never saw him as a real threat.
He never imagined a wild card like a big sister would suddenly pop out of the past like a vengeful ghost from an ancient saga, claiming to destroy Asgard.
And from the way she carried herself? Yeah, she didn't seem like an idiot like his two brothers. Honestly, Loki was starting to question how Thor and Balder were even Odin's sons to begin with, doubting if they were adopted.
Hela, though? She fit. Ruthless, sharp, powerful—exactly what Loki believed a true God-King (or Queen) should be.
Which, ironically, left him confused. If he ever did become King of the Nine Realms... how the hell was he supposed to handle her? From the power she displayed, she wasn't just strong—she might even be on Odin's level.
While the two gods brooded about Hela like she was a chess piece they couldn't quite corner, Frigga had a more optimistic take.
"I don't think she's the same woman she was thousands of years ago," Frigga said gently. "You have to admit, she has changed. She's more... caring now."
She glanced at Odin, eyebrows raised as if daring him to disagree. "Sure, she's angry, but she didn't slaughter anyone (just disabled them). And it doesn't look like she's interested in mindless conquest either. I think she's trying to build something—a kingdom of her own. Maybe to prove she can do it better than Asgard ever did."
Odin nodded. He didn't disagree with Frigga... not completely.
"That's exactly what makes her even more dangerous," he replied grimly. "She's patient now. Calm. She's not rushing into battles or announcing her ambitions to the world. She's growing her power slowly and methodically—and that's terrifying."
He spoke deeply, arms crossed. "Just look at how easily she's crushed those Hell-Lords. She wasn't that strong when she was imprisoned."
"And she somehow managed to lift the runes I personally sealed on her body. That alone makes me suspect she found some sort of powerful artifact. Maybe even something that's messing with fate itself—that would explain why I can no longer see the future."
Yeah. Hela had gotten too powerful. And that's exactly why Frigga thought it was time for a different approach.
"If you know all that," she said softly, "then why keep treating her like an enemy? She's not as unreasonable as she used to be. You could talk to her, Odin. Try to make her understand why you did what you did. If nothing else, at least give her a chance to be heard."
Odin didn't argue. He just sighed—a long, heavy sigh. Frigga didn't really understand the full extent of his relationship with Hela. And she definitely didn't know Hela like he did.
To Hela, whatever goodwill she might've once had toward him had been burned to ashes the moment he locked her away. And after what had happened recently in Midgard, that hatred had only intensified.
He was talking with Frigga, sure—but his mind was already made up.
Hela had to be dealt with.
The only problem? He had no idea how. Because she wasn't the same imprisoned daughter from before. She was something else now. Something he might not be able to stop.
Loki, who had been quietly listening this entire time, grew more and more grim with each passing word.
As much as Odin and Frigga's conversation sounded deep and philosophical... to Loki, it was just one big confirmation: Odin had no plan.
None.
For the second time in Loki's entire life—after Thor's idiotic banishment—he saw Odin look powerless. And that was unacceptable.
If Odin couldn't deal with Hela, how could he? What chance did he have?
No. That couldn't be it.
His mind started racing, working overtime. There had to be something he could do—some plan, some scheme, some trick he hadn't thought of yet.
Because if Hela was a problem too big for Odin... then she was a problem Loki couldn't afford to ignore. Not if he still wanted that throne.
...
Naturally, Hela had no clue what was going on in Asgard—and frankly, she didn't give a damn. Why would she? Right now, she was full of excitement after a hearty fight.
She was officially a Queen. Not just in title, but in reality. Millions of subjects. Her own realm. A real kingdom. And not just any kingdom—this was Marvel we're talking about.
Some of her people were superhumans, others absurdly talented, and just thinking about the kind of empire she could build had her practically vibrating with glee.
Flying cities? Virtual reality games she never got to try in her past life but always dreamed of? Expanding across galaxies, building something even bigger than a universe? All those fantasies that once lived rent-free in her imagination?
They weren't dreams anymore—they were goals. And when your dreams start looking like checklists, who the hell has time to care about Asgard?
As for the mess happening on Earth—the panic, the chaos, the governments losing sleep over her existence—Hela couldn't be bothered.
What did matter were the people kneeling before her, the ones who still are now loyal to her, or at least have enough fear to stick around in the future. She could be considerate when it counted.
"Okay," she began casually, like she wasn't talking about disabling a bunch of people for life, "these people earlier were basically spies sent by your human governments."
"Now, if I was still following my old standards, your entire nation would be paying the price for their leaders' choice. By the grace of some of you still having family outside, I will show my mercy—but put things in your heads: none of you can afford the price of offending this goddess."
Her tone was calm. Way too calm. Like she was talking about the weather. And somehow, that made it ten times scarier. Still, her words were oddly comforting.
The crowd actually breathed a collective sigh of relief. After all, they had just witnessed a goddess curse a group of people into unconsciousness before their bodies straight-up vanished. Not something you forget.
Sure, she had no proof of her spy story, but nobody was in a hurry to call her bluff. I mean, would you argue with a death goddess whose résumé includes total destruction and effortless power flexes?
Besides, trust in the government was already tanking, and honestly, the idea of being sold out by politicians was easier to believe than Hela just randomly turning people into a vegetable state for fun. So, weirdly enough, most of them bought it.
Seeing that the crowd was starting to calm down, Hela turned to Jean and Wanda—her two main companions through all this—nodded, and then smiled at the group still kneeling.
"Alright, you can stand now. Remember this moment for the rest of your life—this is when you chose to place your lives in my hands. And I promised you a better future."
Then came the kicker. "But if even one of you dares to betray me, even slightly, congratulations—you've just made the worst decision of your life. Not only will I know, but I'll make sure you beg for death… and still keep suffering."
The way she said it? So casual. Like she was commenting on the weather again. But that only made the threat hit harder, especially for those sitting on the gray area—those who weren't spies but definitely had their own little side plots going. Hela's words tightened the noose around their conscience.
One by one, those who had sworn allegiance started rising to their feet. Their expressions had changed. There was awe there now. Maybe even reverence. They looked at Hela with a new kind of respect… maybe even fear-laced admiration. And Hela? She was pleased. Very pleased.
"Great," she said brightly. "Now that everything's been cleared up, it's time to head to your new home."
With that, she cut the projection on Earth. There was nothing left to see there anyway. She paused for a second, thinking it through. Yeah, she'd already done everything she needed to. Pietro was here, along with the others she'd rescued. The scientists she wanted were accounted for. The supplies were in place—food, resources, and everything they'd need until they became self-sufficient.
Oh, and animals? Already teleported a bunch of them to Hel ahead of time. Quietly. Efficiently. Just another day as a multitasking Queen.
With her new mastery of Ethernano, it was ridiculously easy to give life energy to plants and jumpstart ecosystems—now especially with Krakoa present.
And when she eventually merged the different realms of Hel together? Things would get better—they'd all complement each other, creating something breathtaking.
So just like that, the Hanging Gardens of Hel vanished. No noise. No drama. As if it had never even been there.
...
Sigh, I became so rusty in such a short period after not writing, and it took longer than expected, but strangely, it feels easier to write now. Anyway, thanks for the power stones—it was a surprise to see my work jump from the fifty-something place to 16. Hope you can continue supporting