In the sealed depths of Asgard, a powerful Asgardian deity lay imprisoned—Hela, Goddess of Death.
"The time has come. The seal can no longer hold me," a hoarse female voice echoed through the darkness, tinged with excitement. She had endured countless millennia in this forsaken place.
With Odin's death, the seal's energy had been prematurely depleted. Without the Allfather's power to reinforce it, the remaining defenses were but a frail barrier.
A pale, slender hand pierced through the golden barrier with ease, scattering it into glimmering fragments that dissolved into the air.
Boom! Boom! Boom! One by one, the heavy stone doors barring her path were shattered beneath the swing of her blade, until she reached the final gate.
The guards posted outside the sealed chamber heard the approaching destruction. Recalling the Queen's earlier warnings, one of them stepped forward.
"I'll report to the Queen. You stay here and watch."
Though Loki temporarily sat on the throne, they trusted Frigga more.
Before the guard could leave, sharp black spikes pierced through the door behind them, impaling their bodies. They writhed in agony, pinned like insects on a board.
"Your suffering will end soon." Hela emerged from the broken gate, her emerald eyes cold as she gazed upon the helpless Asgardians. The hatred of millennia seethed beneath her calm facade. "Your souls belong to me. In the realm of the dead, you shall rise again."
Each god held dominion over different aspects of existence. Hela, as the Goddess of Death, claimed the souls of all Asgardians—an immutable truth, even Odin could not alter.
One by one, pale souls were wrenched from the corpses, only to vanish into a rift that split open in the void.
"Now... to free my pet and my servants." Before her imprisonment, Hela's most loyal companion was the great wolf Fenrir—a mighty beast bound in slumber. Even across the ages, she could still sense him.
Yet as she walked through Asgard's streets, she found the world unfamiliar. Time had eroded much of what she once knew.
Onlookers whispered, their gazes wary. The long-lived Asgardians rarely saw faces from the distant past—few still lived who could remember her.
When Hela reached the palace square, Loki lounged upon a gilded chair, enjoying a self-authored play with a smug, languid smile.
Her brow furrowed. Odin placed a Frost Giant on the throne?
"Halt!" Guards raised their weapons, uneasy under the oppressive aura radiating from her.
"I detest having weapons pointed at me." With a flick of her hand, black blades pierced the guards, pinning them to the walls.
A murmur swept through the square—killing in plain sight was an unforgivable insult to the prideful Asgardians.
"Do you know what you're doing?" Loki's composure cracked, his claim to the throne newly won, now challenged.
"I am not your enemy." Hela sighed, restraining her rising anger. She desired Asgard's loyalty—these were her people. Unlike the Valkyries she had slain in the past, they had not stood against her by choice. "I am Hela, firstborn of Odin. This throne is mine—not a Frost Giant's."
The crowd stirred. Everyone knew Loki's true heritage, but none dared question Odin's decree.
Faced with hostile stares, Hela's patience snapped. The Necrosword flashed in her hand, and a storm of black spikes erupted, slaughtering soldiers and civilians alike.
"Wait, wait!" Loki's voice echoed from a corner, his horned helmet discarded in the chaos. The impaled Loki dissolved—a mere illusion—while the real one cowered behind a pillar, clutching his wounded arm.
"This is Asgard. You cannot hope to defeat us alone!"
"I cannot waste time here." Hela's gaze swept over the gilded halls. Memories of conquest beside her father stirred within her. Together, they had waged war across the realms—none could withstand them.
Before she could take another step, Asgardian warships descended, forming a blockade in the sky.
The Warriors Three arrived with reinforcements, weapons ready, surrounding the square.
"Where do you think you're going?" Volstagg hauled Loki out from his hiding spot like a scolded child.
"Unhand me! I am the King—and a sorcerer, not a brute like you!" Loki snapped, though fear flickered in his eyes. The deathly aura clinging to Hela reminded him of Garus.
Hela stood undaunted. Only Odin had ever bested her—and he was gone.
"I'll give you one chance. Swear loyalty to me, and I will lead you to conquer the Nine Realms... and beyond."
"Never! Asgardians do not yield, nor do we seek conquest!" Hogun roared, charging with his sword raised.
Hela sighed in disappointment. With a casual swipe, she deflected the attack. Above, golden beams rained from the warships, engulfing the square in searing light.
When the assault ceased, a black pillar of stone stood unscathed—Hela emerging without a scratch.
"Is this what Asgard has become in my absence? So weak..."
She raised her blade—but before the killing blow could fall, a voice called from behind.
"Hela, wait!"
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TN: This fanfic has been fully translated and is available on my Patreon —— PATREON.COM / PRIMALDEMON