The Infinite Void.
A lone Asgardian scout ship cut through the silent, star-choked vacuum of the Andromeda Sector. Inside the pressurized cabin, the air was thick with the scent of ozone and the sharp, jagged tension between two women who shared the same face, the same soul, and a growing list of grievances.
Ruth—the Hela of this parallel world—slammed her fist against the navigational console. "Damn it all! Where is Morag? This is the sixteenth dead rock we've scanned. Does that blue stone in your hand actually work, or is the 'brain' of this operation as incompetent as he is arrogant?"
Hela, fresh from a sonic bath and wrapping a silk robe around her statuesque frame, didn't look up as she towel-dried her hair. "The Space Stone is reacting to the planetary signature. It's in this system. Are those Kree gnats still on our tail?"
"They're courting an early grave," Ruth spat, her eyes flashing with a toxic, emerald malice. "The moment I get my hands on the Power Stone, I'm turning their fleet into a floating graveyard. I won't have those blue-skinned bugs following us back to Asgard when we finally leave this reality."
"Oh? And here I thought you were the one preaching caution," Hela said, her voice a cool, provocative silk. "Don't tell me that awakening your 'Curse' attribute has made you reckless. I was considering reporting our status to Loki first. We should discuss the scale of the counterattack."
Ruth let out a sharp, mocking bark. "Report to the brain? Look at you, Hela. The great Goddess of Death, acting like a well-behaved little maiden. It's pathetic. If it were me, I would have had him 'upgrade' my assets a long time ago. You're not even blood relatives; why are you playing the shy sister?"
Ruth's gaze dropped pointedly to Hela's chest before she looked away with a dismissive sniff. "We had an agreement. Since you're wasting your proximity to him, don't get in my way when we get home."
"You are incredibly noisy," Hela remarked, calmly smoothing her robe. She reached for a bottle of chilled Vanir milk, drinking it with a relaxed elegance that infuriated her counterpart. "I know what this is. You envy the fact that I have a brother to rely on. You're jealous that Mjolnir answers to me, and you hate that I've awakened the Light while you remain a walking hex."
"I am the unique one," Ruth hissed, clutching her oversized Kree energy rifle. "When we return, I will devour his attention. I will bind him to me with interests so deep he'll forget you ever existed."
Hela tilted her head, a silver-tipped strand of her raven hair catching the light—a physical manifestation of her new Light attribute. "Then I shall watch with interest as you try. But remember, Ruth: I have seen the ray of light in him. I embrace both the shadow and the flame. You? You just want a weapon. Let's see how long he tolerates being a tool."
The Ruins of Morag.
The scout ship descended through the murky, gray atmosphere of a planet that had long ago forgotten the sun. The rear hatch hissed open, and Hela's neck scarf expanded, transforming into a billowing cape of Evernight that carried her to the ground in a cloud of deathly shadow.
Ruth followed, leaping from the ramp in her sleek galactic warrior gear, her heavy energy rifle slung over her shoulder. She hated to admit it, but the "pew-pew-pew" of the high-tech weapon provided a satisfying rhythm to her violence.
"The Kree scanners are spiking," Ruth noted, checking a handheld device. "The temple plaza is ahead. The Power must be here."
They traversed the rugged mountain paths, entering a gargantuan stone forest. Swarms of massive black rats—creatures Loki had described in his briefings—scurried through the shadows.
Deep within the ruins, Ruth used a burst of necro-energy to shatter the seals of a hidden vault. Inside, suspended in a field of ancient stasis, a silver metal orb floated in silence.
"Finally," Hela whispered.
The two months they had spent in Asgard, settling scores and healing old wounds, had been a prelude. But the three months spent drifting through the void searching for this orb had been a different kind of torment. Neither woman could stand the silence of the universe anymore; it reminded them too much of their prisons.
Hela reached out, her hand encased in the Uru gauntlet. She crushed the silver orb with a single, decisive squeeze.
[WARNING: Planetary Stability Compromised]
The world seemed to stutter. A wave of raw, purple energy erupted from the orb, a stellar explosion contained within the palm of her hand. Time slowed to a crawl. Hela's pupils constricted as the destructive force of the Stone judged her soul. The necro-energy in her veins surged to meet the violet fire, and after a heartbeat of agonizing tension, the stone settled into the gauntlet's slot.
"Hela?" Ruth shouted, shielding her eyes.
"It's done," Hela gasped, the purple glow reflecting in her silver-tipped hair. "The energy... it's straightforward. Power doesn't trick you like Time does. It simply asks if you are strong enough to hold it. If you aren't, you and the planet both turn to ash."
"Let me feel it," Ruth demanded.
Hela handed over the gauntlet. As Ruth slid it on, her body stiffened. An immense, unrestricted strength flooded her divine body, bypassing the regional limitations of Asgard's heart-pulse. "Ah... this is intoxicating. It's like being a god twice over."
"It's an amplifier, nothing more," Hela warned, taking the gauntlet back. "Our strength must remain our own. Now, let's go. The gnats have arrived."
The Harvest of the Stars.
Above the plaza, three Kree interceptors descended, their searchlights cutting through the gray mist.
"Buzz!"
Mjolnir left Hela's hand, a streak of milky-white lightning that ignored the laws of physics. It punched through the lead interceptor, the explosion lighting up the ruins like a second sun.
Ruth aimed her energy rifle at the second ship, her eyes glowing—one pitch black, one an eerie, necrotic green. As she fired, her divine power infused the lasers. The second ship didn't explode; instead, half of its crew instantly mutated into mindless draugr, turning their weapons on their shocked companions. The ship spiraled into the stone forest, a tomb of its own making.
Hela recalled her hammer, the weapon returning to her grip with a satisfying crack, and sent a second bolt of Light to finish the final vessel.
The difference between them was now clear. Hela was the ultimate duelist—a fusion of Death and Light that could dismantle any single foe. Ruth was the plague—a mistress of the Curse who could turn an army against itself before the first sword was even drawn.
"How boring," Ruth grumbled, kicking a piece of smoldering debris. "I expected more of a fight. Let's go find their mothership. I want to stretch my muscles before we head back to the 'brain'."
"Patience, Ruth," Hela said, opening a blue spatial rift with the gauntlet. "We have what we came for. Let the universe wonder what happened to its gnats. We have a throne to reclaim."
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