"I came. I saw. I conquered."
Ethan Drake had shaken off the haze of indulgence completely. What remained was something sharper, colder, and far more dangerous than before. His ambition, once simmering beneath the surface, now burned openly.
Asgard.
He didn't just want to defeat it.
He wanted to take it.
This kingdom, which had ruled the Nine Realms for thousands of years, would be stripped of its throne. The so-called King of Gods would be dragged down, reduced from a ruler to a subordinate beneath him.
Asgard would become part of the Kryptonian Empire.
And Hela—its forgotten princess—would be the blade he used to carve it apart.
The battlefield stretched before them in chaos.
Artillery fire streaked through the sky like falling stars, explosions lighting up the golden city. The clash between the Dark Elves and the Asgardians raged on, both sides locked in brutal combat.
Ethan walked forward casually, moving through the streets as if the war meant nothing to him. Around him, soldiers fought and died, buildings burned, and the ground trembled with every impact.
To him, it was just noise.
"Kill!"
An Asgardian warrior, dressed in golden armor and wielding a bloodied weapon, rushed toward him with red eyes. The man didn't hesitate, raising his blade to strike down the intruder in front of him.
"Pathetic."
Ethan's voice was soft.
He snapped his fingers.
Boom.
The warrior collapsed instantly, his body crushed as if struck by an invisible force. The shock didn't stop there. The surrounding structures—walls, towers, and entire sections of buildings—buckled and fell, as though reality itself had been violently compressed.
The destruction spread outward in a chain reaction.
Not far away, a group of Asgardian guards froze in place, their expressions filled with disbelief. They had seen power before. They had fought gods, monsters, and invaders.
But this?
This was something else entirely.
A single snap of his fingers had caused that.
Above them, a fleet of warships swept through the sky. They did not discriminate between friend or foe—beams of energy rained down indiscriminately, capable of piercing through layers of reinforced steel.
The attacks descended toward Ethan and Hela.
And stopped.
A strange distortion surrounded Ethan's body. The air itself seemed to ripple, forming an invisible barrier. The energy beams slowed, twisted, and then vanished completely before they could even reach him.
Every ounce of energy was absorbed.
Consumed.
It was as if the attacks had never existed at all.
During his recent period of indulgence, Ethan hadn't neglected his evolution. The Ultimate Evolution Module had continued refining his abilities in the background, pushing them to new heights.
His energy absorption had reached a terrifying level.
He snapped his fingers again.
A pulse of violet energy spread outward.
The ships in the sky had no time to react. The wave swept across them instantly, tearing through their hulls and igniting them from within.
Boom!
Flames erupted across the heavens.
Wreckage rained down over Asgard, crashing into buildings and detonating on impact. The sky itself seemed to burn.
Beside him, Hela stood frozen.
Even she—Goddess of Death—felt a chill run through her.
The monarch she had just sworn allegiance to was becoming more incomprehensible with every passing second. A simple flick of his fingers, a casual release of power, and entire fleets were erased.
How?
How could someone reach this level?
Ethan glanced at her, a hint of amusement in his eyes.
"Your heart's asking the question, isn't it?" he said lightly. "You want to know how I did it."
Hela stiffened instantly.
Cold sweat formed along her pale skin, and her head dropped without hesitation.
"I… don't dare."
The memory of what had just happened to her in Helheim was still fresh. The pain, the helplessness, the repeated destruction of her body—it was etched into her mind.
And now, she realized something worse.
He could read her thoughts.
The idea alone was enough to make fear grip her heart again.
Ethan didn't press further.
Instead, he raised his hand slightly and flicked his finger forward.
A faint ripple spread out.
It looked insignificant.
It wasn't.
Boom!
The Asgardian warriors ahead—those who had been preparing to resist—were obliterated instantly. The ground beneath them was torn apart, lifted several meters into the air before collapsing back down.
Silence followed.
Hela swallowed, saying nothing.
In her mind, Ethan was no longer just powerful.
He was something closer to an omnipotent god.
"Too weak."
Ethan's gaze swept over the corpses scattered across the battlefield. There was no satisfaction in his expression, only mild disappointment.
To him, this level of resistance wasn't even worth acknowledging.
The truth behind it was simple.
The Power Stone had evolved.
Even the smallest release of its energy could now generate shockwaves capable of wiping out entire groups of enemies. Combined with his other abilities, the result was overwhelming.
Effortless.
That was the word.
Behind them, another roar echoed.
More enemies approached.
From the front came the Asgardian defenders.
From behind came the invading Dark Elves.
Hela stepped forward immediately.
As his subordinate, she knew her role. Whether she liked it or not, she would be the one to deal with anything that approached him—even if those threats were insignificant compared to his power.
"Dark Elves," she said coldly, her eyes narrowing. "I didn't expect you to crawl out of your graves."
Her tone turned sharper.
"And Odin… pathetic. You let vermin like this invade Asgard."
With a flick of her hand, her weapon materialized.
The Night Sword.
Black blades began forming around her, emerging from nothingness. One became two. Two became dozens. In an instant, they surrounded her like a storm of death.
Boom!
The ground erupted.
Blades shot upward, impaling Dark Elves before they could even react. Their bodies were pierced clean through, pinned to the earth like broken dolls.
Hela's power surged further.
The swords expanded, growing larger and more terrifying. One massive blade shot into the sky, extending dozens of meters before crashing through an enemy ship.
The vessel exploded instantly.
Her control over death was absolute.
While she was not on the same level as the cosmic embodiment of Death itself, she still commanded the boundary between life and death. With a touch, she could strip souls or rot flesh in moments.
She was a weapon.
And a very effective one.
"Well done," Ethan said, watching her performance with interest. "I'm even more confident in your usefulness now."
Hela lowered her head.
"As it should be."
She didn't dare think further.
Not when he could hear everything.
The war continued to rage around them.
But something changed.
The Dark Elves began to retreat.
It wasn't because of the Asgardian resistance. It wasn't because of any sudden shift in the battlefield.
They had been ordered to withdraw.
At the same time, Ethan and Hela moved forward, ascending the steps that led to the highest point of Asgard.
The palace.
The heart of the realm.
There, standing amidst the chaos, was an old figure.
Odin.
He stood with difficulty, leaning slightly on his spear. His body was still wounded, his strength far from recovered, yet the presence he carried remained immense.
Ethan stopped a short distance away.
Then he smiled.
"Long time no see, Odin," he said calmly. "Are you ready to lose your life?"
....
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