Chapter 431: Thanos, I agree with you, but with the exception of Earth!
Thanos's hand wearing the Infinity Gauntlet began to tremble slightly.
It was not out of fear, but because he was turning up the energy of the six Infinity Stones to their limit, trying to find a way to harm Loren.
The energy output of the Power Stone had reached the bearing limit of the gauntlet, and tiny cracks began to appear on the surface of the gauntlet.
The energy field of the Soul Stone fluctuated violently in his consciousness, and he felt that his soul was also being eroded.
The Reality Stone was constantly rewriting his surroundings, trying to create an environment unfavorable to Loren.
But every one of his rewrites was instantly smoothed out by the energy field around Loren's body, like writing with a pen on the surface of flowing water.
Loren looked into Thanos's eyes, looking into those eyes of six-color swirls that were frantically searching for a way out.
"Now, it's time to return the Infinity Stones to me."
Thanos clenched his fist.
"Impossible." Thanos's voice was low, like stones rolling down a hillside.
"The Infinity Stones do not belong to anyone. They do not belong to you, they do not belong to me, they do not belong to anyone."
"They are just tools. And I need them to complete my mission."
"My mission is already half complete, and I must ensure that it is not reversed. I will not hand the stones over to anyone."
He raised his left hand. The six stones on the gauntlet glowed violently, and the cracks on the surface of the gauntlet were expanding.
Energy surged out from his body, and the Impact spread outward, blowing away all the rubble and ash in his path.
His body expanded a circle under the infusion of energy, and the contours of his muscles became more distinct.
Six colors of light flowed in the blood vessels under his skin, and his eyes turned into pure six-color light sources without any distinction between the whites and irises.
"I am going to kill you." Thanos said, his voice no longer sounding like a human voice.
It had become a superposition of six frequencies, like a huge pipe organ pressing all the keys at the same time.
"You can try." Loren said.
Thanos rushed forward.
Instead of throwing a punch or an energy attack, he directly condensed the energy of the six Infinity Stones into every cell of his body.
Using his own body as a weapon, he slammed into Lorenat his fastest speed, strongest force, and most fatal angle.
The combination of his speed and strength compressed the air in front of him into an invisible wall.
The front end of the wall was a white cone generated by the shock wave, and the tip of the cone pointed directly at Loren's heart.
Loren did not dodge.
He extended his right hand, spread his five fingers, and met Thanos's Impact with his palm.
Thanos's body crashed into Loren's palm.
Yet the energy generated by this Impact was easily absorbed by Loren's palm.
Thanos's body stopped in front of Loren's palm, like a train traveling at supersonic speed crashing into a wall made of some indestructible substance.
The kinetic energy of his body was absorbed by Loren's body, and the space around his body twisted violently at that moment, producing visible ripples like water waves.
Those ripples spread outward, hitting the surrounding ground and blasting deep pits one after another into the ground.
Thanos's head looked at Loren from above Loren's palm, and for the first time, genuine, undisguised fear appeared on his face of six-color light.
"What kind of monster are you?!" His voice broke.
Loren's palm moved away from Thanos's chest, then clenched into a fist and struck Thanos's abdomen.
A short uppercut, no more than ten centimeters in distance.
Thanos's body bent down, not because he wanted to bend.
But because Loren's fist compressed all the internal organs, all the muscles, and all the bones in his abdomen inward.
His mouth opened, making a muffled, animal-like whine.
Purple blood gushed out of his mouth, mixed with the liquid in his stomach, and splashed onto Loren's arm.
Loren withdrew his fist and looked at the purple blood stains on his arm.
"I've always wanted to know what color your blood is. Now I know, it's purple."
He said calmly, as if speaking of a trivial matter.
Thanos knelt on the ground.
He supported himself on the ground with his left hand, his fingers deeply inserted into the rubble and soil.
The cracks on his gauntlet became larger, and some cracks had extended from the surface to the internal stone slots.
One could see the energy of the Infinity Stones seeping out from the cracks, emitting a faint glow like fireflies.
"You..." Thanos's voice was hoarse, "What on Earth are you?"
Loren squatted down and looked him in the eye.
Eyes of the color of the aurora borealis looked at Thanos's six-color swirling eyes.
"I am Loren Morgan, just an Earthling, but an Earthling you cannot afford to mess with!"
He reached out and grabbed the Infinity Gauntlet on Thanos's left hand.
The cracks on the gauntlet expanded further under his fingers, and the energy of the stones surged out from between his fingers, flowing into his body.
"You said that these stones are just tools, tools for you to complete your mission, and your mission is already complete. Now, it's time to complete my mission!"
He took the Infinity Gauntlet off Thanos's left hand.
The moment the gauntlet left Thanos's wrist, the six stones flashed violently at the same time, like making a final, feeble, and desperate resistance.
But Loren's fingers locked the stone slots, and his will suppressed the energy of the stones.
His very existence was both a negation and an affirmation of the Infinity Stones—negating their absoluteness and affirming their instrumentality.
The gauntlet was removed.
Thanos's left hand hung limply by the side of his body.
His six-color swirling eyes were losing their luster and losing the energy infused by the stones.
He looked at that empty left hand for a long time.
His lips trembled, his body trembled, and his entire person trembled.
"My... mission..." His voice was as faint as a candle in the wind.
"Your mission is complete."
Loren stood up, holding the Infinity Gauntlet in his hand, looking at those stones that were lighting up again from dimness.
"To be honest, I actually agree with your concept. I also feel that there is too much life in this Universe."
"The balance has indeed been broken, so this Universeneeds someone like you to save it, though I personally carry a little bit of selfishness."
"I feel that you only needed to wipe out half of the life outside of Earth. Earth is not included, since this is my home planet after all."
As Loren spoke, he put on the Infinity Gauntlet.
The six stones glowed in his hand, not with the violence and oppression when Thanos used them.
But with a soft, warm, golden glow like sunlight.
The energy of the six stones surged into Loren's body, merging with his Silver Superman energy.
His hair fluttered in the wind of energy, and he closed his eyes.
Deep in his consciousness, where the energy of the Infinity Stones and his own energy intersected, he could sense the coordinates of every life in the Universe.
Not only every living person, but even those lives that once lived and then disappeared in that snap could be perceived.
He could see Tony Stark, still reaching out his hand in the last second before disappearing.
He could see Steve Rogers, with endless reluctance in his eyes at the moment the shield slipped.
He could see Natasha Romanoff, her red hair fluttering in the ashes.
They were all there, at the edge of consciousness, in the cracks of time, on the boundary between existence and non-existence.
Loren extended his left hand and spread his five fingers.
"Come back!" He whispered, and the six stones glowed simultaneously.
Chapter 432: The Completely Fallen Universe Overlord
It was not the intense, violent, supernova-explosion-like light from when Thanos snapped his fingers.
Instead, it was a soft, warm light, like a sunrise.
The light surged from the stones, spread from his gauntlet, and flowed from his body.
Like a glowing river, it flowed through the ruins, through the ashes, and across every inch of Manhattan.
The ashes began to move.
Not blown by the wind, not stirred by raindrops.
Instead, they floated up from the ground on their own, spinning, aggregating, and recombining in the air.
The grey particles regained color in the golden light, regained shape, and regained life.
Tony Stark stood beside the wreckage of his armor, his fingers still outstretched, fragments of his mask still at his feet.
His eyes were closed, and his breath was the first breath from nothingness, like a newborn baby's first cry.
He opened his eyes.
Steve Rogers's hand was still reaching toward the direction of Tony's armor.
His fingers touched the first piece of metal debris among those re-aggregated ashes.
When his blue eyes opened, he saw his hand, seeing the skin on it changing from gray back to skin color.
His shield floated up from the ground and returned to his back.
Natasha Romanoff's baton bounced up from the rubble and returned to her hand.
Her red hair grew back from the ashes, changing from gray to blonde and then to red.
No, it directly returned to her original appearance, like someone pressed the rewind button.
Carol Danvers's silver-white hair turned back to blonde, and the energy under her skin began to flow again.
She stood up from the ground, looking at her hands, looking at the comrades reappearing from the wreckage, her blue eyes filled with tears.
Quill stood at the door of Avengers Headquarters, holding the element gun that floated up from the ground in his hand.
His right leg was exactly the same as before he disappeared, including the old injury.
He looked at his hand, and looked at everything reappearing around him.
His eyes turned red, and he heard a voice coming from far away, like laughter drifting in the wind.
Rocket bounced off the ground, his claws immediately reaching to his side.
Groot stood beside him, new branch arms already growing from the severed arm, tender green, trembling slightly in the sunlight.
"I am Groot," Groot said.
Rocket didn't speak; he just buried his face in Groot's trunk.
Earth, half of the life came back.
Yes, just Earth; Loren did not let the rest of the Universerecover.
Just as he had said himself, he agreed with Thanos's approach.
Of course, agreement was agreement, but if he were to eliminate half of the life in the Universe himself, he couldn't bring himself to do it.
Now that Thanos had played the bad guy, he naturally had no need to restore the life on other Planets.
To be honest, this wasn't resurrection; resurrection meant returning from death.
They didn't die; they just disappeared.
Now, they reappeared.
At the exact same moment, in every corner of Earth, they appeared simultaneously at every location where they had once vanished.
From the gap between one breath and the next, from disappearance to existence.
Loren stood in the ruins of Manhattan, the Infinity Gauntleton his left hand still glowing, but the light was slowly fading.
A portion of the energy of the six stones had been used by him, not to destroy life, but to restore life.
They needed time to recharge, and he took the gauntlet off his hand.
The gauntlet felt heavy in his hand, the light of the six stones soft and stable, as if expressing gratitude to him.
It wasn't a conscious feeling, but an energetic, physical, and definite resonance.
"The life on Earth has recovered."
Loren's voice sounded like he was talking to himself, or speaking to someone beside him.
No one responded.
He held the Infinity Gauntlet in his hand, the light of the six stones reflecting on his face.
He turned around and looked at the purple figure still kneeling in the ruins.
Thanos knelt there, his hands supporting him on the ground, his head lowered.
His Infinity Gauntlet was gone, his stones were gone, his power...
His physical strength, which did not rely on any external objects, had also been completely destroyed in the previous battle, and his life was counting down.
His amber eyes watched the people reappearing from beneath his drooping eyelids.
He watched Tony Stark stand up from the ashes.
He watched Steve Rogers reach out to catch the shield falling from the air.
He watched Carol Danvers fly up from the ground, her golden light and silver-white hair gleaming in the sunlight.
"No..." Thanos's voice was hoarse, like the last breath squeezed from the depths of his throat.
"I have completed my mission, you... cannot reverse it..."
Loren walked up to him and squatted down.
"I didn't reverse your snap. The half of the life you eliminated, I didn't let them come back.
Just as you said, if they came back, they would consume resources again and break the balance once more.
Your mission would become meaningless, and that's not what I wanted either, so I didn't restore them."
Thanos raised his head, a faint, flickering light of near-extinction shining in his amber eyes.
"Then what about these people who came back from the ashes?"
"I said just now that I have selfish motives, so this is only half of Earth.
I only restored the life on Earth; other Planets, and the half you killed, I didn't touch."
Hearing Loren's words, Thanos's expression finally calmed down a bit. Although the life on Earth had recovered, preventing his mission from being perfectly completed,
the life of a whole Planet placed in the boundless Universereally couldn't even count as a speck of dust.
Therefore, it had no impact on the balance of the Universeat all. So generally speaking, his mission had still been successfully completed.
Thus, he had no regrets.
At this moment, his life had also reached its end, the light in his eyes completely extinguished, and the once-renowned Universe Overlord fell right in front of Loren.
Looking at Thanos's corpse, Loren sighed meaningfully. In his heart, he actually admired Thanos as a UniverseOverlord.
To dare to defy the world for the so-called balance of the Universe and campaign across the entire Universe—such boldness and courage were definitely not something an ordinary person could possess.
What is a true overlord? This was it!
Therefore, in this regard, he admired Thanos, but alas, their positions were different, so they were destined to be enemies.
He shook his head and waved his hand. A powerful energy erupted suddenly, directly burning Thanos's body into ashes.
At this point, this Universe Overlord, who had plunged an entire Universe into fear, had completely fallen.
Chapter 433 Destroying the Infinity Stones
Following the complete death of Thanos, Loren refocused his gaze on the Infinity Stones in his hands.
"Now, it's time to make these stones completely disappear!" Loren stood up, supporting the Infinity Gauntlet, and said meaningfully.
Within this Marvel Universe, most of the crises were caused by these six Infinity Stones.
The Infinity Stones were the source of power, but at the same time, they were also the root of disaster.
Therefore, as long as they remained in the mortal world, they would continue to trigger the next round of threatening events.
Now that his strength had broken through to the Multiverse level, he was tired of such endless threatening events, so he decided to completely resolve it from the root.
Therefore, completely destroying these six Infinity Stones, just like Thanos in the Marvel Universe did, was the best choice.
"Disappear?" Hearing Loren's words, Natasha looked at him with an expression of disbelief.
Natasha had now become the new Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., because just as Loren said, he had selfish motives.
Although he used the power of the Infinity Stones to restore half of the vanished life on Earth, it did not include Nick Fury, that Black Egg!
That stubborn old black man who still treated him as a threat right up until the eve of the battle—he did not regard him as life on this Planet.
In his view, he was no different from a piece of cotton.
Since he was a piece of cotton, naturally there was no need to restore him.
Lest after being restored, he would still have to make Aliceplay "Sunny, Rainbow, Little White Horse" for him every day!
He was already tired of that kind of life, so solving it directly from the source was much more comfortable.
"Yes, disappear, completely erased from this timeline.
There will be no more Infinity Stones in the future, no more snapping fingers, and no one will ever be able to threaten the life of the Universe by collecting them."
"Is this possible? The Infinity Stones are the incarnation of the basic forces of the Universe, can they really be destroyed?"
At this time, Tony Stark stepped forward, expressing his own understanding of the Infinity Stones.
Hearing this, Loren showed disdain and said, "That is for you."
As Loren spoke, his golden eyes looked at the six gems in his hands, watching those colors flowing in the light.
"For me, it is different."
He took the six gems out of the slots of the gauntlet one by one and placed them in his palm.
The six gems in his hand lay there quietly, docilely, and without any struggle, like six marbles of different colors.
Power Stone — purple, exuding a violent pulse like a heartbeat.
Soul Stone — orange, warm, like candlelight.
Reality Stone — red, flowing, like liquid fire.
Space Stone — blue, deep, like a boundless Universe.
Time Stone — green, soft, like the first leaf of spring.
Mind Stone — yellow, bright, like a lamp lit in the dark.
Then Loren raised his hand and pinched them, kneading them into a ball.
This was not a metaphor, but kneading in the literal sense.
His fingers closed, pressing the six gems in his palm, pressing them together like kneading a lump of dough.
The gems made a sharp sound in his palm like metal being torn apart.
The light of six colors poured out from between his fingers, illuminating the entire ruins of Manhattan, illuminating the sky, and illuminating the people watching all this from a distance.
Tony, Steve, Natasha, Carol, Quill, Rocket, Groot, everyone was looking at Loren's palm, looking at those gems being compressed and kneaded.
Cracks began to appear on the surface of the gems, not extending from the surface to the inside like the cracks on Thanos's gauntlet.
Instead, they extended from the inside to the surface, spreading outward from the core of the gems.
More intense light gushed out from the cracks, and that light was no longer separated into six colors.
Instead, it mixed into a new color, a white color that had never appeared in the Universe, as if all colors were stacked together.
White light poured out from between his fingers, getting brighter and more blinding, like a newborn star.
Loren clenched his fist, and the six gems made their final sound in his palm.
Not a sound, but a resonance.
A vibration spanning the entire Universe that all living beings with souls could feel.
The frequency of the vibration went from high to low, from sharp to deep, from existence to nothingness.
Then, it became quiet.
The light dissipated.
Loren opened his palm.
In his palm, the six gems no longer existed.
Replaced by a puddle of silver-white, dust-fine powder.
The powder piled up into a small conical heap in his palm, shimmering with a faint silver-white light in the sunlight.
Loren tilted his palm, and the powder flowed down from between his fingers.
Falling onto the ruined land, mixing with soil, gravel, and ashes.
It was no longer possible to distinguish which were the powder of the gems and which was ordinary dust of Earth.
The wind blew over, scattering the last bit of powder.
The Infinity Stones completely disappeared from this timeline.
Dusting his palms, he turned around and walked towards Morgan Manor.
He stepped into the spatial rift, and the blue light swallowed his body.
The rift closed behind him, separating the space between him and the crowd.
Tony stood in place, looking at the closed space.
His brown eyes were filled with confusion, shock, and a strange, almost liberating ease.
Steve walked up to him with his shield on his back.
At this time, a wind blew.
Blowing the dust in the ruins, blowing the hair of the people who had just returned from the ashes.
Blowing the calls of people who were searching for relatives, loved ones, and friends.
On the ruins of Manhattan, sunlight shone through the gaps in the clouds, casting mottled light and shadow on the broken glass and gravel.
In the direction of Morgan Manor, Loren walked out of the spatial rift and into his study.
His footsteps were very light, so light that Tifa did not even hear his footsteps.
He came behind Tifa, gently gathered her into his arms, and then buried his head in her beautiful hair, sniffing her charming fragrance.
"Master, has the matter been resolved?" Tifa turned her head, looked at Loren behind her, and asked.
"Mm, resolved, the Infinity Stones are destroyed.
There will never be any messy things happening because of the Infinity Stones anymore, I can enjoy life properly!"
"The power of the Infinity Stones is so powerful, can they really be destroyed?"
"Complete destruction is indeed impossible, but making them disappear in the timeline where I am is still possible.
As for other timelines, whether they exist or disappear doesn't matter to me at all!"
"Understood, Master!" Tifa nodded admiringly.
At this time, her slender hand slid down Loren's body.
"Master, I feel your fatigue, let me serve you well!"
Chapter 434: Generous system points, Obtained the Title of Fate Rewriter!
In the study of Morgan Manor, sunlight slanted in through the window, casting a patch of warm gold on the oak floor.
On the lawn outside the window, a few squirrels were chasing and playing near the roots of the oak tree, their tails as fluffy as clumps of brown clouds in the sunlight.
In the distance, the Hudson River rippled with silver-white waves in the afternoon light, and a few white gulls hovered over the river, occasionally diving down to snatch a flashing fish from the water.
Everything was as quiet as a painting.
Loren sat in the high-backed chair with no book in his hand.
His gray eyes looked at the peaceful scenery outside the window, but his consciousness was not there.
His consciousness was deep within the system, in that void made of data and energy belonging to him alone, watching the characters jumping on the panel.
The system panel floated in his consciousness like a glowing mirror.
[Detected that the Host participated in the Marvel Universe major event: Thanos's finger snap event]
[Event Evaluation: The Host played a decisive role in the event, changing the final trajectory of the event and avoiding the permanent disappearance of half of the Universe's life]
[Reward calculation in progress...]
He leaned back against the chair, tapping his fingers lightly on the armrest.
The characters on the panel continued to jump.
[Reward calculation complete]
[Basic system points reward: 100 points]
[Extra Reward: Unlocked extraction permission for a new dimensional World (next extraction cost halved)]
[Special Title: Fate Rewriter (When equipped, gain additional time perception ability when facing timeline-altering events)]
Loren raised an eyebrow. This time there were actually extra rewards and a special title, which hadn't happened before.
The extraction cost was halved. Under normal circumstances, extracting a new World required 100 system points.
But with this extra reward, next time he could extract a new technological World directly with 50 system points.
For him, this was naturally a huge blessing.
As for the special title, it was an even better thing—Fate Rewriter!
This title was more than just an honor; it had practical functionality: time perception ability.
When facing timeline changes, he could perceive the fluctuations of change in advance and react accordingly.
In the future, if someone like Thanos tried to tamper with the future by changing the past, he would notice it earlier than anyone else.
But none of this was the most important thing; what mattered was the system points.
100 points.
His previous system points had dropped to zero after extracting the DC Universe World.
Fortunately, he drew the DC Universe World, and the system rewarded him with the Super Biological Weapon Technology Guide and Silver Superman DNA.
Without that vial of serum, he couldn't have broken through to the Multiverse level so quickly.
After Thanos's snap, he might have been directly erased.
And he wouldn't have been able to restore Earth's life, destroy the six Infinity Stones, or bring back those who vanished in the ashes.
100 points traded for his continued existence and the return of half of Earth's life.
And now, the system had given him another 100 points. How could he not be joyful?
Loren looked at the number 100 on the panel, his fingertips tapping the armrest once more.
He was wondering how to use these 100 points.
Draw another new technological World?
He already had five dimensional Worlds: NieR: Automata, dragon ball, heavens lost property, DC Universe, and the Marvel Universe itself counted as one.
Every single World had given him the power to change his destiny.
dragon ball gave him Android Technology and Senzu Bean Manufacturing Technology, heavens lost property gave him Nymph and Artificial Angel Technology, and DC Universe gave him the power of Silver Superman.
What would the next World be? Transformers? Star Trek? Star Wars?
Or an even older, more powerful World?
Or he could save up the system points; 100 points wasn't a lot, but it wasn't a little either.
The items deeper within the system were more expensive, and some advanced technologies might cost hundreds or even thousands of system points.
Every little bit added up. Perhaps one day in the future, he would need a huge amount of system points to exchange for something powerful enough to change the fate of the Universe.
So after thinking about it, he chose the latter.
Host: Loren Morgan
Current World: Marvel Universe
Dimensional Worlds: NieR: Automata, dragon ball, heavens lost property, DC Universe
Technologies: General-Purpose Combat Robot, Anti-Gravity Drone, Android Technology, Destroyer Armormanufacturing technology, Capsule Technology, Senzu Bean Manufacturing Technology, time machine manufacturing technology, gravity room, Artificial Angel Technology, super biological weapon technology, etc.
system points: 100
Special Title: Fate Rewriter (Equipped)
Loren withdrew from the depths of the system and opened his eyes.
The sunlight outside the window was still as warm as ever, the squirrels were still chasing each other under that oak tree, and the gulls on the river were still hovering.
His gray eyes appeared very faint in the light, like two pieces of frosted glass, and the corners of his mouth held an almost invisible, relaxed curve.
It wasn't a loud laugh, nor was it a smile; it was simply a natural peace surging from the depths like a spring.
The door was gently pushed open.
Tifa walked in.
She wore a simple white shirt and black trousers, her dark brown long hair tied into a low ponytail behind her head, with a few stray locks hanging by her ears.
Her facial features had a softness that made people feel at ease, not the kind of breathtaking beauty.
Rather, it was a warm, jade-like prettiness that stood the test of time.
In her hand, she carried a tray, upon which sat a cup of steaming black tea and a small plate of biscuits.
Her steps were light, but steady.
She walked to the desk, put down the tray, and then placed the teacup and biscuit plate within Loren's reach.
Her movements were smooth and natural, as if she had done it countless times.
"The tea is newly arrived Ceylon black tea," Tifa's voice was neither loud nor soft, carrying a natural gentleness like a spring breeze brushing across a lake surface.
"The biscuits were baked this morning using your favorite recipe: low sugar and extra nuts."
Loren picked up the teacup; the wall of the cup was warm, not burning to the touch.
He took a sip, and the tea soup unfolded on the tip of his tongue with a faint fruity aroma and a slight bitterness, followed by a sweet aftertaste. Good tea!
Tifa's craftsmanship was as good as ever; whether making tea or baking biscuits, everything was done just right.
Loren put down the teacup, leaned back against the chair, and looked at Tifa's back.
She was tidying up the books on the bookshelf, though they didn't really need tidying.
Rather, she liked to find small tasks to do after finishing other matters so as not to stay idle.
Her fingers slid gently along the spines of the books, straightening a few crooked ones, then pulled one out from the shelf, flipped through a few pages, and put it back.
"Tifa." Loren said.
"Hmm?" Tifa immediately turned her head to look at Loren.
"Come here."
Tifa's fingers paused for a moment.
She looked at Loren, a faint smile in her black eyes.
She walked to the desk, stood in front of him, and looked down at him.
The sunlight shone in through the window, falling upon her profile and gilding her outline with a layer of golden light.
Chapter 435: Plain and Simple is Life
Loren reached out and took her hand.
Her hand was warm. Her fingertips were slightly hot from holding the hot tea just now, and her palms had thin calluses, which were the marks left from practicing combat skills for a long time.
She was not an ordinary woman who only knew how to make tea and bake cookies; she was Tifa Lockhart.
A martial artist from the World of Final Fantasy VII, his companion, his comrade-in-arms, his creation, and one of his women.
Loren pulled her hand in front of him, turned it over, and looked at her palm.
Those calluses emitted a faint, transparent luster under the light.
He gently rubbed her palm with his thumb, feeling the contrast between the roughness of the calluses and the smoothness of the surrounding skin.
"Are you tired?" he asked.
The corners of Tifa's mouth curled up slightly.
"Not tired. What's tiring about making tea and baking cookies?"
"I don't mean today." Loren raised his head, his gray eyes looking at her.
"I mean these days, the things that have happened recently.
Thanos, the Infinity Stones, the snap...
Although you didn't directly participate in the combat, you did a lot in the rear.
Taking care of the manor, taking care of the other sisters, taking care of me, you must be tired, right?"
Tifa looked at him, a light flashing in her black eyes.
It wasn't tears, but the warmth naturally revealed after being seen and understood by someone.
"Maybe a little," she said, her voice very soft.
"But seeing you return safely, all that tiredness doesn't matter anymore."
Loren held her hand and didn't let go.
The study quieted down, with only the chirping of birds outside the window and the sound of distant river water flowing.
The sunlight slowly moved between the two of them, shifting from her face to his shoulder.
Moving from his shoulder to the floor, like a silent, tireless painter smearing warm colors over the two of them.
"Master, you are more tired than me. Let me serve you!" said Tifa.
"Alright!" Loren nodded and didn't refuse.
Seeing this, Tifa didn't speak anymore, but smiled warmly and slowly squatted down.
Morgan Manor in the evening was dyed golden red by the setting sun.
The squirrels on the lawn had already gone home, and the seagulls on the river surface had also disappeared without a trace.
Only a few bats foraging before nightfall drew tiny black arcs on the horizon.
The wisteria on the terrace swayed gently in the evening breeze, and those late-blooming purple flower spikes stood out particularly clearly in the twilight, like strings of small lanterns hanging among the green leaves.
Dinner had already been set on the long table.
It wasn't that kind of grand formal dinner with a white tablecloth and silver candlesticks.
Instead, it was an ordinary wooden table covered with a flax-colored tablecloth, with several sets of tableware casually placed in their respective positions.
In the center of the table was a coarse pottery vase, in which were inserted a few branches of hydrangeas cut from the garden. The blue-purple flower balls appeared particularly plump in the setting sun.
Tifa was making final preparations in the kitchen. Her movements were skilled and calm, as if she were performing a ritual she had repeated countless times.
Cutting vegetables, seasoning, stir-frying, plating—every step was precise and elegant, like a silent dance.
Her long hair swayed slightly behind her head, and occasionally a few strands of broken hair escaped from the ponytail, hanging by her ear. She didn't pay attention to them, letting them gently brush across her cheeks.
No. 18 walked in from the back door. She was wearing a simple dark blue dress, and her long golden hair was scattered over her shoulders, glowing with a soft luster in the light of the setting sun.
Her blue eyes glanced in the direction of the kitchen, and then she walked to the terrace and sat down on a chair.
She didn't speak, just leaned against the back of the chair, watching the sunset glow on the horizon being swallowed by the night.
Her expression was calm, but that calmness was a bit different from before.
Previously, her calmness was that kind of calmness where "nothing can threaten me," the composure of the strong looking down on the weak.
The current calmness was softer, more like a true relaxation from the inside out.
Like a person who finally took off their armor, sitting in their own courtyard, thinking of nothing and doing nothing, just watching the changing colors on the horizon.
Loren walked out of the study, passed through the corridor, and pushed open the back door.
He saw No. 18 sitting alone on the terrace, walked over, and sat down next to her.
"What are you thinking about?" he asked.
No. 18 withdrew her blue eyes from the sunset glow and glanced at him.
"Thinking of you!"
"Oh? It's rare for you to say that, but guess whether I believe it or not?"
"I don't care if you believe it or not, believe it or not as you like!" No. 18's cheeks blushed.
She stood up from the chair, walked to the edge of the terrace, and pressed her hands on the stone railing.
The evening breeze blew the hem of her dress, drawing a soft arc in the air.
She raised her head and looked at the first star that appeared in the sky.
"Master, what is that star called?" she asked.
"I don't know, but we can give it a name."
Loren walked to her side and stood shoulder-to-shoulder with her in front of the railing.
"What should we call it?"
"You name it."
No. 18 fell silent for a moment.
"Call it No. 18."
"Mm, then let's call it No. 18."
Loren turned his head to look at No. 18. Her profile appeared exceptionally clear in the twilight.
The high bridge of her nose, the slightly upturned corners of her mouth, and those blue eyes that were forever calm but now had a thin layer of watery luster.
Tifa's voice came from the direction of the terrace: "Dinner is ready."
She walked out carrying the last dish and placed it on the table.
Nymph followed behind her, barefoot, her light blue long hair fluttering in the breeze, her golden eyes shining like two small lamps in the twilight.
She was holding a large bottle of homemade lemonade. Dense water droplets had condensed on the outer wall of the glass bottle, sparkling with crystal light in the setting sun.
"I made it!" Nymph proudly announced, placing the lemonade in the center of the table and putting her hands on her hips like a child waiting for praise.
Tifa looked at her, the corners of her mouth curling up slightly.
"You made it. Although you put too much sugar, too little lemon, and just the right amount of water."
"That is the perfect ratio!"
Nymph didn't mind, hopped onto her chair, and sat cross-legged on it.
Alice walked out from inside the manor, still holding that copy of Pride and Prejudice.
She walked to the table, placed the book next to her seat, and then sat down.
The gem between her eyebrows emitted a faint blue light in the twilight, echoing the starlight emerging in the sky.
"Alice, don't read books while eating."
Tifa's voice came from the direction of the kitchen.
Alice's hand stopped on the book cover.
She glanced in the direction of the kitchen, and then glanced at Loren.
Loren shrugged. Alice closed the book and put it aside.
"Okay," she said.
"Right, how come it's just you guys? Where are the others? 2B, A2, Tsunade, Mei Terumi, Hancock... where have they all gone?"
Loren looked at Alice curiously.
"Didn't they tell you, Master? They went shopping! They said they're eating out and won't be back until evening."
"Fine! These fellows are now addicted to shopping!"
"Hehe, yeah! Now that the World is at peace, they have plenty of leisure time, so they go to the shopping mall every day to buy all kinds of pretty clothes!"
"Then why didn't you four go?"
"We are going! We'll go after dinner. Big Sister Commander White said otherwise it wouldn't be good if there wasn't anyone at home to keep you company!"
"Heh, I really need to thank her!"
Chapter 436: It's hard not to love such an obedient and sensible Tifa!
Five people sat around the long table.
There weren't many dishes on the table, but every single one was made with care.
Tifa made Loren's favorite creamy mushroom soup, with finely chopped parsley floating on the surface, and the milky-white soup emitting a soft glow in the candlelight.
No. 18's favorite grilled fish had skin baked to a golden, crispy perfection, tender and juicy fish meat, served with lemon wedges and fresh dill on the side.
Nymph's requested vegetable salad featured vegetables of various colors cut into uniform pieces, drizzled with Tifa's special vinaigrette, looking like a colorful painting in the bowl.
There was also a simple plate of garlic bread, with a crispy crust, a soft interior, and the aroma of garlic and butter filling the air.
Nymph was the first to make a move.
She reached out, took a piece of garlic bread, took a large bite, then closed her eyes and let out a sigh of satisfaction.
"Tifa makes the most delicious bread," she mumbled.
Tifa sat on Loren's left, holding a soup ladle and serving soup to everyone.
She first served a bowl to Loren, then gently scraped the edge of the bowl with the ladle to keep a single drop of soup from spilling.
Then Alice, then No. 18, and finally herself.
No. 18 picked up a fork, speared a piece of grilled fish, put it into her mouth, and chewed slowly.
Her expression didn't change at all, but her chewing speed was a bit slower than usual—that was her way of expressing that it tasted good.
Nymph noticed this and happily kicked her feet, almost kicking her chair over.
"Slow down, eating is not a race." Tifa reached out to steady the back of the chair, her tone gentle but unquestionable.
Nymph stuck out her tongue and sat properly, but her feet were still gently kicking under the table, like an unstoppable little rabbit.
Alice picked up her soup bowl and took a silent sip.
"Is it good?" Tifa looked at her and asked.
Alice put down the soup bowl and wiped the corner of her mouth with a tissue.
"It's good," she said in a calm tone, but Loren noticed she had finished an entire bowl of soup, whereas she usually stopped after half a bowl.
Loren ate his own portion without speaking, but his eyes were watching everyone.
He watched Tifa put food on Nymph's plate, watched No. 18 silently eat fish, and watched Alice finish her soup and serve herself another half bowl.
He looked at this terrace, these dishes, these candlelights, and these faces glowing slightly in the twilight.
"What's wrong?" Tifa noticed his gaze and turned her head to look at him.
"Nothing," Loren said.
"I just feel that this is very nice."
Tifa's lips curved up slightly, not asking what was nice, because she knew what he was talking about.
Nymph chewed her food and asked incoherently, "By the way, Alice, I've noticed you reading lately. What book are you reading?"
"'Pride and Prejudice'."
"Is it good?"
"With your ability, wouldn't a casual scan tell you?" Alicesmiled and said.
"How boring is that? I want to be like Master, reading page by page. That looks so cool."
"Just tell me if it's good or not! If it's good, I'll go read it too!"
"Alright! It's quite interesting. It tells the story of someone who misunderstood another person because of prejudice and finally realized they were wrong."
"Did that person forgive him in the end?"
"She didn't forgive him," Alice put down the soup spoon and said earnestly.
"It was that she realized she had misjudged him. Prejudice wasn't the other person's fault, but her own. When the prejudice vanished, love emerged."
Nymph tilted her head and blinked her golden eyes.
"So profound."
No. 18 glanced at Nymph.
"Simply put, it means not disliking someone casually."
"I don't dislike people casually, I only hate bad guys!" Nymph protested.
"What is the definition of a bad guy?" Alice asked.
"Someone who isn't nice to me!"
"Then what about someone who isn't nice to you, but might be very nice to others? Is he a bad person or a good person?"
Nymph opened her mouth, then closed it again.
"Alice, don't confuse Nymph with your questions." Tifa put a piece of fish on her plate.
"Eat your fish, Nymph."
Nymph stuffed the fish into her mouth and chewed hard.
Loren leaned back against the chair, watching all of this.
His eyes looked very warm in the candlelight, with a tiny, persistent arc at the corner of his mouth.
He reached out and gently touched Tifa's hand under the table.
Tifa's fingers opened slightly and intertwined with his.
She didn't speak, nor did she look at him, just continued drinking her soup, her expression as calm as if nothing had happened.
But her hand was warm.
After dinner, Tifa began to clear the table.
Nymph volunteered to help, but clumsily broke a plate and was gently driven out of the kitchen by Tifa.
Pouting, she ran into the living room, lay down on the sofa, and started yawning shortly after.
Her golden eyes slowly closed, and her light blue long hair spread over the cushion like a crumpled cloud.
She fell asleep quickly.
No. 18 sat on the terrace for a while, looking at the stars in the sky.
"That one is No. 18," she said, pointing to a star on the horizon that wasn't too bright but very steady.
Loren stood beside her, looking over along her finger.
"Yes. That is No. 18."
No. 18 withdrew her hand, turned around, and looked at his face.
"From now on, we'll come to look at it every night," No. 18 said.
"Okay," Loren said.
The corners of No. 18's mouth twitched slightly; it was her smile, very subtle, but very sincere.
Alice was in the corner of the living room, sitting in an armchair, picking up 'Pride and Prejudice' again in her hand.
She read quietly in the candlelight, and a moment later, she yawned, closed the book, and put it aside.
She didn't go to the bedroom, but simply pulled the blanket up to her shoulders, leaned against the back of the armchair, closed her eyes, and fell asleep too.
Tifa walked out of the kitchen, having already untied the apron tied around her waist.
She looked around the living room; Nymph was curled up on the sofa, and Alice was leaning against the armchair, both asleep.
Her footsteps were very light, making no sound.
Walking over to the sofa, she re-covered Nymph with the blanket that had slipped off, then walked over to the armchair and placed Alice's book on the small table beside it.
She turned around and saw Loren standing at the doorway of the terrace, looking at her.
"Are they all asleep?" he said.
"Asleep," Tifa nodded.
Loren didn't answer, just reached out his hand to her.
Tifa walked up to him and placed her hand in his palm.
Together, they walked out of the living room and up the stairs, their footsteps making a slight sound on the wooden steps.
The bedroom was on the second floor.
The door wasn't locked. Pushing it open revealed a small but very warm room.
A large bed against the wall was covered with light blue bedsheets and a duvet cover.
The window was open, and the evening breeze blew in from outside, stirring the edges of the curtains and gently swaying in the moonlight.
Loren closed the door.
Tifa stood in front of the window, the moonlight falling on her face, outlining her silhouette into a silvery-white line.
Her long hair was coated with a silver halo by the moonlight. She turned around, back to the window, facing Loren.
Loren walked up to her and pulled her straight into his arms.
It's hard not to love such an obedient and sensible Tifa!
Tonight he would continue to love her fiercely.
Chapter 437: The Goddess of Death - Hela, Has Awakened!
After Thanos died, Earth ushered in an unprecedented period of peace.
There were no alien fleet invasions, no artificial intelligence rebellions, no HYDRA conspiracies, and no demons from other dimensions.
Even street crime rates had dropped, not because the criminals had turned over a new leaf.
But because everyone saw the footage on the news of that man on the ruins of Manhattan crushing six Infinity Stoneswith his bare hands.
No one wanted to become that man's opponent.
On the lawn of Morgan Manor, the sunlight was as warm as ever.
Tifa was baking cookies in the kitchen, and the aroma of butter drifted out the window, pervading the entire backyard.
Nymph was squatting in the garden, stepping barefoot on the soil, and talking to a snail.
Her antennae gently waved on the snail's shell, trying to communicate with it.
But the snail seemed to have no interest in communication, slowly crawling onto a lettuce leaf.
Number 18 sat on the railing of the terrace, tilting her head up and looking at the sky.
For a month, she went to look at the star she named "Number 18" every night.
The stars were invisible during the day, but she knew it was there, behind the clouds, in a place where the light of the Sun could not cover.
Her blue eyes calmly gazed at that blue sky, and the corners of her mouth had an almost invisible, relaxed curve.
Alice was in the study.
She sat in Loren's high-backed chair, holding a book taken from the bookshelf.
Not "Pride and Prejudice", but a monograph on quantum physics.
Loren sat on the wicker chair in the garden, holding a cup of tea in his hand.
His silver-white hair had not turned back to its original dark brown since he injected the serum a month ago.
He had once considered using an energy field to change his hair color, but Tifa said it looked good, so he kept it.
His gray eyes appeared very pale in the sunlight, but they were no longer the cold pallor of the past; they had an extra layer of warmth, like an undercurrent flowing beneath the ice in winter.
He hadn't left the manor for a month.
Not that he couldn't, but he didn't want to.
The one hundred points on the system panel were still there, and the extraction authority of the new dimensional World had not yet been used.
He had many things he could do, continuing to research super biological weapon technology, exploring the Quantum Realm and the possibilities of time travel.
Or using his Silver Superman power to patrol the Universe, solving threats that Earthlings had never heard of.
But he chose to stay here.
Drinking tea, basking in the Sun, reading books, and talking to Tifa.
Watching Nymph communicate with the snail, accompanying Number 18 to look at the stars at night, and occasionally discussing the book she was reading with Alice.
This was not laziness, not avoidance, but a choice.
A choice to finally slow down and breathe a breath of fresh air after experiencing countless battles and crawling back from the edge of death countless times.
"Master." Tifa's voice came from the direction of the kitchen.
"The cookies are ready. What kind of tea do you want with them?"
"Ceylon," Loren said.
"Still less sugar and more nuts?"
"You know my taste."
Tifa walked out carrying a tray, on which was a plate of golden cookies and a pot of freshly brewed black tea.
She placed the tray on the small table next to the wicker chair, and then sat down on the chair next to Loren.
Her black eyes looked at him, the corners of her mouth carrying a soft curve that only appeared when she was relaxed.
"It's been a month," Tifa said.
"Mm."
"Aren't you planning to do something?"
"I am doing something, drinking tea, eating cookies, and looking at you."
The corners of Tifa's mouth curved deeper.
"You know I didn't mean that. Do you plan to go on like this forever? Doing nothing at all?"
Loren picked up a cookie and took a bite.
The edges of the cookie were crispy, the inside was soft, the aroma of nuts and the milky fragrance of butter blended in the mouth, and the sweetness was just right, not greasy.
"Sometimes," Loren said, "doing nothing is the best thing to do."
Tifa looked at him, her black eyes holding a complex, indescribable expression.
She reached out, broke off a small piece from the cookie in Loren's hand, and put it into her own mouth.
"Delicious," she said.
"Of course it's delicious since you made it."
They sat in the garden, the sunlight spilling down through the gaps in the leaves, casting mottled light and shadow on their bodies.
On the distant river surface, a white yacht was slowly passing by, dragging a long white water wake at the stern, like a thin line drawn on blue satin.
A few seagulls followed the yacht, expecting the people on board to throw out food.
Peace.
Too peaceful.
Loren looked at that sky, his gray eyes narrowing slightly.
His body felt something at that exact instant—not a sound, not an image, not any information that could be captured by the senses.
But a more fundamental perturbation, like someone gently plucking a string at the other end of the timeline.
The ripples of vibration passed through dimensions, through space, through all barriers, and reached the depths of his consciousness.
He put down the cookie.
"What's wrong?" Tifa noticed his change.
"Nothing," Loren said.
But he knew it wasn't nothing.
Ever since possessing the power of Silver Superman, his perceptual ability had surpassed any known existence.
He could feel supernova explosions on the other side of the Milky Way Galaxy, the generation and annihilation of virtual particles in the Quantum Realm, and the fluctuation of energy in other dimensions.
And at this moment, what he felt was the breaking of a seal.
In some corner of the Universe, at the boundary of the Nine Realms, in the domain of Asgard.
An ancient, powerful existence suppressed by Odin with his life had reawakened.
His fingers tapped lightly on the armrest.
"Tifa."
"Hmm?"
"Might need to go out for a trip."
Tifa's expression didn't change, but her fingers tightened slightly.
"When?"
"I don't know. Maybe today, maybe tomorrow, maybe never, depends on the situation."
"Depends on what situation?"
Loren did not answer.
His gaze passed through the sky, through the clouds, through the atmosphere, through the starry sky, and landed on that distant Planet built of gold and magic.
Asgard.
There, a person was walking out from the darkness.
Asgard.
The Realm of Eternity, the center of the Nine Realms, the home of the gods.
The Golden Palace shone with dazzling light in the sunlight, its spires piercing through the clouds, and its golden walls could be seen from kilometers away.
The Bifrost Bridge extended from in front of the gate of the Golden Palace, passing through space, connecting Asgardand the other Worlds of the Nine Realms.
Heimdall stood at the entrance of the Bifrost Bridge, his golden eyes gazing at every corner of the Universe.
Everything was very peaceful.
But this peace was superficial.
Deep inside Asgard, beneath Odin's vault, under layers of seals of gold and magic, an existence imprisoned for thousands of years had awakened.
This person was none other than the Goddess of Death - Hela.
Chapter 438: "You must be that younger brother of mine whom I have never met?"
In his youth, Odin fought alongside her, conquered the Nine Realms, and established the empire of Asgard.
But as Odin transitioned from a tyrant to a benevolent king, the differences between him and Hela grew larger and larger.
She craved conquest, while he yearned for peace.
She craved power, while he yearned for responsibility.
Eventually, Odin had no choice but to imprison Hela.
Using his vitality and Asgard's most powerful magic, he constructed a seal, locking her in the crevice between the Underworld and Asgard.
As long as Odin lived, the seal would not break.
But Odin died.
On the coast of Norway, before Thor and Loki, he turned into golden points of light and dissipated into the wind.
His soul went to Valhalla, but his vitality, the key to maintaining the seal, disappeared from the Universeforever.
The seal began to loosen.
Then, Thanos came.
He brought the six Infinity Stones to Earth, and the energy Impact generated by his battle with Loren crossed dimensions.
It penetrated Asgard's domain and struck the already crumbling seal.
It was not intentional, not even direct, merely the aftermath.
It was merely the sparks splashing when two stars collided, but it was enough to completely destroy the seal that had already cracked with countless fissures.
The crevice of the Underworld was torn apart.
Darkness surged out from the rift, not energy, not matter.
But a more essential, more primitive darkness, like the nothingness before the birth of the Universe.
It devoured the fragments of the seal, devoured the magictraces left by Odin, and devoured everything that tried to stop it.
In the center of the darkness, a figure walked out.
Hela.
Her figure was slender and elegant, wearing a tight-fitting, dark green, scale-like combat suit.
Her long black hair cascaded over her shoulders and back like a waterfall, intertwined with a few strands of silver-white light—the trace left after spending thousands of years in the Underworld.
Her face was pale, but her facial features were as exquisite as if carved by a knife, and her lips were dark red, like blood freshly flowing from a wound.
Her eyes were green, but not the ordinary kind of green; it was a green like venom, like an abyss, one that people dared not look directly at.
On her head, a black horned crown made of twisted metal and bone shone with a cold light in the darkness.
That was her crown, her symbol as the Goddess of Death, and the symbol of her power to rule Asgard.
Hela walked out of the rift and stood on the boundary between the Underworld and the endless void.
She looked down at her hands, pale, slender, with nails like sharp blades.
She opened her fingers and closed them again, feeling the flow of power that had been suppressed in the Underworld for thousands of years and had finally returned to her body.
"One thousand years." Her voice was deep and husky, like a rusted knife scraping across a whetstone.
"I waited in that place for a thousand years, waiting for Odin to die, waiting for the seal to loosen, waiting for the right moment to arrive."
She raised her head, her green eyes piercing through the void, through dimensions, and through the barrier between the Nine Realms.
They landed on that golden Planet shining in the starry sky.
Asgard.
Her home.
Her heritage.
Her kingdom.
"I am back," Hela said.
"To take back what belongs to me."
She stepped forward.
No Bifrost Bridge, no spaceship, no portal.
She simply walked in the void, with endless darkness beneath her feet.
But every step landed on solid ground, as if an invisible hand was paving a road beneath her feet.
Her figure traveled through the starry sky, getting faster and faster, from walking to running, from running to flying, from flying to disappearing.
The next second, she stood on the golden Earth of Asgard.
The wind blew from behind her, stirring her long hair and the metal spikes on her crown.
Her green eyes looked at the Golden Palace ahead, looking at the palace she had once built together with Odin, which now had a new Master.
Her lips curled slightly into a cold and cruel arc.
"Who is sitting on my throne? You should abdicate!"
Thor sat on the throne of the Golden Palace, holding Mjolnir in his hand.
This hammer had accompanied him for thousands of years, in his hands ever since he was not yet a qualified warrior.
Its weight could only be lifted by him alone, and its power could only be wielded by him alone.
Its loyalty, like an old dog to its Master, needed no questioning.
He was thinking.
Thanos was dead; this news spread across the Universelike wildfire.
Not killed by the Avengers, not killed by the Guardians of the Galaxy, not defeated by any army.
It was killed by an Earthling, Loren Morgan, within a few seconds.
Thor naturally knew Loren; although they were not deeply acquainted, he knew that that person's power far surpassed his own.
A person who could kill Thanos possessing six Infinity Stones in a few seconds was definitely not someone to be trifled with.
Crucially, when his father was still alive, he had told him never to offend Loren.
But rather to be friends with him, and whatever the other party needed, he just needed to cooperate.
It was precisely because of this that he was able to securely sit on the throne as the King of Asgard now.
Loki stood below the throne, hands behind his back, a certain uneasy light flashing in his black eyes.
He was no longer the Joker of back then who only wanted to seize the throne of Asgard.
He had changed a lot, but his unease would always exist.
"Did you sense it?" Loki asked.
"I sensed it. A terrifying power is rushing toward us!" Thornodded.
Just as his voice fell, the doors of the Golden Palace were smashed open from the outside by a tremendous force.
Not pushed open, not battered open, but blown open.
Two doors forged from pure gold, weighing several tons, flew inward and crashed into the inner wall of the Golden Palace, making a deafening loud noise.
The carvings on the door, the epic of Odin's campaigns, shattered in the Impact, and the faces of the heroes were twisted into abstract, unrecognizable patterns.
Thor's hand tightened around Mjolnir, and Loki's hand reached for the dagger at his waist.
Out of the smoke and dust, a figure walked out.
Hela.
Her pace was slow and steady, every step feeling like stepping on an enemy's heart.
Her long hair fluttered in the shockwave of the explosion, and the metal spikes on her crown reflected a cold light in the golden glow.
Her green eyes swept across the interior of the Golden Palace, those golden pillars.
Those murals depicting the history of Asgard, the throne where she once sat with Odin to overlook the Nine Realms.
Her gaze fell on Thor's face.
"It seems you are that younger brother of mine whom I have never met!"
Hela said, her voice deep and husky, but every word was as clear as nails driven into a wooden board.
Thor's blue eyes widened, his hand trembling slightly on the handle of Mjolnir—not out of fear, but shock.
He had never seen this woman before, but on her face, he could see the shadow of his father, the shadow of himself.
Her forehead was like Odin's, her jawline was like Frigga's, and her gaze was like himself when he was angry as seen in the mirror.
Chapter 439: Without a hammer, what are you even?
"What little brother? I don't understand what you are talking about. Who are you?" Thor asked, his voice low but steady.
Hela laughed, not a happy laugh, but a cruel one like a cat toying with a mouse.
"You don't know who I am? Odin didn't tell you?"
She took a step forward, and the golden slabs beneath her feet cracked into spiderweb-like fissures under her weight.
"I am Hela, your sister, Odin's firstborn child, and the rightful heir of Asgard."
Thor's eyes narrowed, his brain operating at high speed as he tried to process this information he had never heard before.
Father had another daughter? His sister? Hidden away? Sealed away? Why?
"Impossible," Loki's voice came from the side, sharp and urgent.
"Father never mentioned that he had another daughter."
"Odin never mentioned a lot of things," Hela interrupted Loki, her green eyes shifting from Thor to Loki.
"Like how you are a descendant of the Frost Giant, like how he picked you up on the battlefield, like how you were never truly an Asgardian."
Did Odin tell you these things?
No.
Because he is a liar, a usurper, a false king built upon gold and lies."
Loki's face turned pale the moment she uttered Frost Giant, a dagger slipping from between his fingers before he caught it again.
"Enough," Thor's voice was like the echo of distant thunder.
He raised Mjolnir, blue electric arcs dancing across its hammerhead.
"No matter who you are, no matter whether what you say is true or not, the king of Asgard now is me. My father gave the throne to me, and you have no right!"
"No right?" Hela's laughter grew louder, hollow, like a curse echoing through an empty hall.
"This throne was originally mine. I helped Odin conquer the Nine Realms."
I led Asgard's armies to defeat all enemies, and the blood I have shed is more than all the Water you have ever seen.
Odin grew old, grew soft, forgot our mission, and sealed me away.
But Asgard has not forgotten me; every stone here is calling my name."
She extended her right hand, and within her open palm, black energy began to converge and spin.
Eventually forming a growing sphere that absorbed light like a black hole.
"Now, get down from my throne."
Thor did not get down.
Mjolnir flew out from his hand, carrying the force of a thunderbolt as it struck toward Hela's face.
The hammer dragged a blue arc of electricity through the air, the end of the arc being a white, dazzling, lightning-like radiance.
He used his full strength for this strike, not because he felt his full strength could defeat the woman in front of him.
But because he felt an overwhelming power from her that he had never encountered before, a power that made him instinctively feel fear.
Faced with fear, he chose to respond with anger.
Mjolnir struck Hela.
No, it struck Hela's extended left hand.
She caught Mjolnir with her palm.
There was no parry, no dodge, no use of any magic or energy shield.
She simply extended her left hand, spread her fingers, and then closed them, grasping Mjolnir within her palm.
The blue electric arcs on the hammerhead leaped between her fingers, like imprisoned lightning trying to break free from its cage.
She watched as those electric arcs exploded on her skin, leaving behind charred marks, and then those marks healed instantly as if they had never existed.
"A little toy," Hela said.
She tightened her fingers.
Mjolnir let out a mournful cry.
It wasn't that the hammer itself made a sound, but rather the high-frequency vibration emitted as the magic energy inside the hammer was compressed under her grip.
The frequency of the vibration exceeded the reception range of human ears, but Thor could hear it because the connection between him and the hammer was on a magical level, on a soul level.
The hammer was crying out, asking for help.
Telling him to run away quickly.
Thor did not run.
He rushed forward.
He extended his right hand forward, trying to recall Mjolnir.
The hammer resonated with his summons, vibrating violently in Hela's hand as it tried to break free from her control.
But Hela's fingers didn't move a fraction, locking down the hammerhead like five steel pillars.
"You rely on this hammer, little brother," Hela said.
"You think the hammer gives you power, but you never thought that the hammer is merely a tool.
The true power is within your body, but you are not worthy of possessing it because you do not know how to use it."
She tightened her fingers again.
Cracks began to appear on the surface of Mjolnir's hammerhead.
They didn't start cracking from the handle interface, nor from any weak point, but from the places where her fingers touched it.
Spreading outwards like a spiderweb from each of her fingertips.
The cracks extended across the golden surface of the hammerhead, emitting a harsh, metal-ripping sound.
Thor's pupils constricted.
"No—" he shouted.
His voice did not make Hela stop.
Hela's fingers continued to tighten.
The cracks grew deeper and wider, extending from the surface to the inside.
The magic energy inside the hammerhead poured out from the cracks—blue, dazzling, blood-like energy that dissipated, evaporated, and turned into nothingness in the air.
Mjolnir shattered.
Right before Thor's eyes, before his extended hand, his open mouth, and his wide-staring eyes, it shattered.
Not smashed to pieces, not blown to pieces, but crushed alive by a single hand.
Fragments slipped from between Hela's fingers, dropping onto the floor of the Golden Palace, making a crisp sound like shattering glass.
The handle, the hammerhead, the magic runes that had accompanied him for thousands of years, the uru metalforged by his father in the furnace of the Dwarf King, all turned into fragments.
Hela opened her fingers, and the last few fragments fell from her palm.
There were a few scratch marks on her palm from the fragments, but those wounds lingered on her skin for less than a second before healing.
"Now, you don't have a hammer, what else do you have?"
Thor did not answer; he bent down and picked up the most intact fragment from the ground.
A part of the hammerhead, still bearing the runes carved by his father.
The runes glowed faintly in the darkness, like a dying heart.
He held the fragment in his hand, feeling the residual magic energy flowing in his palm.
Then he raised his head and looked at Hela.
In his blue eyes, there was no more fear, no more shock.
Only a pure, naked anger burning like wildfire.
His body began to glow.
Not the electric arc of the hammer, but his own lightning.
Blue lightning surged from beneath his skin, darted out from his blood vessels, and shot out from his eyes.
His hair stood on end in the current, and his muscles expanded by a circle under the infusion of energy.
Beneath his feet, the stone slabs of the Golden Palacewere shattered by lightning, melted, and turned into glassy black lava.
He didn't have a hammer.
But he had the power of Thor.
"Is this your true power?"
Hela looked at the lightning surging over his body, a trace of interest flashing in her green eyes.
"Not bad. But just not bad."
Chapter 440: You can go die now!
Thor rushed forward.
His speed was three times faster than before, and lightning exploded beneath his feet, pushing his advancing speed to the ultimate limit.
He threw his right fist in the air, carrying hundreds of thousands of volts of electricity, striking Hela's chest.
Hela did not dodge.
She caught Thor's fist with her left hand.
Lightning exploded on her palm, scorching her skin to a char, but her fingers still locked onto his fist.
She lowered her head, looked at her charred palm, and then looked into Thor's eyes.
"Does it hurt?" she asked.
"Does your lightning hurt when it hits me?"
Thor clenched his teeth, bursting his power to the maximum.
Blue lightning surged out from his fist, submerging Hela's body like a flood.
Her battle attire was scorched, her hair curled by the electricity, and her skin was covered in charred marks.
But she still stood there, still holding his fist, still looking at him.
"Not enough," Hela said.
She punched Thor in the abdomen.
Thor's body flew backward like a kicked stone, passing through the hall of the Golden Palace, and crashed into Odin's golden throne.
The throne shattered under his impact, and the golden fragments scattered in all directions.
He fell into the wreckage of the throne, blood spilling from the corner of his mouth.
It was not red blood, but golden; the blood of an Asgardiangod was golden.
His body curled up in the pile of broken gold, his right hand clutching his abdomen, his left hand supporting the ground.
His fingers were trembling, his legs were trembling, his whole body was trembling.
That punch from Hela shattered several of his ribs, and he could feel those broken bones rubbing against each other when breathing, the pain causing his vision to momentarily blackout.
But this was not the reason he couldn't stand up.
He couldn't stand up because his body began to collapse after being over-energized by lightning.
His muscle fibers were damaged in the scorching of the thunder and lightning, his nerve endings lost feeling in the overload, and the speed at which his trembling heart pumped blood could no longer keep up with the energy consumption.
He had no hammer to guide his power, and the thunder and lightning inside his body lost control, destroying him from the inside.
He knelt in the wreckage of the throne, golden blood dripping onto the ground, mixed with the golden fragments, unable to distinguish which were his and which were the throne's.
Hela walked up to him.
Looking down from above, green eyes looked at him.
"Father cultivated you into a warrior who uses a hammer, not a Thor who uses power."
"You rely on tools, rely on weapons, rely on whatever Father gave you."
"But you have nothing of your own, you are just trash, you are not worthy to sit on this throne."
She raised her foot, stepped on Thor's shoulder, and pressed him back to the ground.
Loki rushed up from the side.
The dagger rotated in his hand, stabbing towards the back of Hela's neck.
That was the thinnest place of the armor, a weakness known to all Asgardian warriors.
His speed was very fast, the angle was tricky, and his body made two changes of direction in mid-air, making any prediction impossible.
Hela did not turn her head.
She stretched out her right hand and pinched the tip of the dagger with two fingers.
The dagger stopped between her fingers, as if frozen by time.
Loki's body hung in mid-air, one hand holding the dagger hilt, the other hand open in the air, trying to keep balance.
His black eyes widened, he had never encountered anyone who could pinch his dagger with two fingers.
Hela turned her head and looked at him.
"You are the child of that Frost Giant, Odin picked you up from the battlefield, raised you, thinking you could become a bridge between Asgard and the Frost Giant."
"But you are nothing, you are not an Asgardian, not a Frost Giant, not anything, you are just a Joker."
With a forceful twist, the dagger slipped from Loki's hand and was grasped in Hela's hand.
She looked at the dagger, which was Loki's most beloved one, forged by the Dwarf King, with ancient runes carved on the blade, and then broke it with two fingers.
The broken blade fell from between her fingers and stuck into the floor of the Golden Palace.
"Get lost," Hela said.
She waved her hand.
Loki flew out, crashed into the wall of the Golden Palace, leaving a humanoid dent in the wall.
He slid down to the floor, his mouth open, blood gushing from the corner of his mouth, but he didn't faint.
His eyes were still looking at Hela, looking at her back, looking at Thor kneeling in the wreckage of the throne.
Hela lowered her head again and looked at Thor.
"You think you will become king?"
"You think you are qualified to inherit Odin's legacy?"
"You are not worthy, you have never conquered a Planet, never fought a decent war, never shed a drop of blood worthy of the status of the King of Asgard."
"The Nine Realms were all conquered by me; in this World, only I am qualified to sit on this throne."
She moved her foot away from Thor's shoulder, took a step back, a ruthless light flashing in her green eyes.
"Now, I give you a chance, kneel, swear allegiance to me, and admit that I am the King of Asgard."
"I will let you live, let you stand by my side as my brother, and watch me rebuild the empire."
"Refuse, and you will die here, die in this hall that you should have protected but never had the ability to protect."
Thor knelt in the wreckage of the throne, lowering his head, golden blood dripping from the corner of his mouth onto the floor.
His body was trembling, not because of fear, but because the lightning inside his body was still flowing out of control.
While destroying him, it was also giving him power, a power he could not control and could devour him at any time.
He raised his head.
Blue eyes looked at Hela's green eyes.
"Asgard does not need a king like you."
Hela's eyes narrowed.
"Then Asgard does not need a prince like you."
She raised her right hand, her five fingers spread open, and black energy condensed in her palm into a spike-like, spear-like thing.
This was the power extended from her own body, the product of the materialization of her will.
The tip of the spear pointed at Thor's throat, less than ten centimeters away.
The cold air emitted from the spear tip made the hair on Thor's neck stand up.
"Last chance," Hela said.
Thor did not answer.
His hand groped on the ground and touched the broken sword.
It was not his weapon, but an ancient longsword used for decoration in the Golden Palace, the blade covered with traces of years, and the hilt inlaid with dim gems.
He grasped the hilt, pulled it up from the ground, and held it in his hand.
The cracked blade, the rusted edge, an ordinary and even shabby sword without any magic blessing.
He raised this sword.
Pointed at Hela.
Hela looked at the sword, looked at Thor's hand stained with golden blood tightly gripping the hilt, and looked at his blue eyes.
The corner of her mouth raised slightly, revealing a sneer.
"Since you want to die, then I will grant your wish, you can go die right now!"
The spear thrust forward.
But when the tip of the spear was still the last few millimeters away from Thor's throat, a colorful beam of light shot down from the ceiling of the Golden Palace, enveloping Thor's body.