~BOOM!~
The air, thick with smoke and ash, was swept away like a storm as Hela clashed with Malekith, her blades continuously slashing towards Malekith who could only defend himself and parry them away.
The surrounding area was completely torn apart by the chaos of war. Hela stood amidst the rubble like a proper Goddess of War & Death, her armor gleaming as her eyes remained locked onto Malekith, who send swarms of Dark Elves to delay her.
~SHUFFLE~SHUFFLE~SHUFFLE!~
The shuffling of boots echoed as a wave of Dark Elves swarmed Hela, most of them wielding close range weapons whilst some remained far back to throw spells towards the Goddess.
Still, Hela didn't flinch, she'd seem far more grim and despair inducing scenes than a bunch of Dark Elves trying to attack her. Compared to true war, this was nothing but child's play to her.
With a flick of her hands, dozens of Necroswords burst from her body like black feathers from a raven's wing.
They floated mid-air, suspended for a breathless second, before rocketing forward with murderous precision. The first row of Elves was shredded instantly, torsos pierced, skulls split, limbs severed.
~SLICE~SLICE~SLICE!~
Hela spun through the air like a whirlwind of shadows, conjuring a massive glaive in mid-motion, and as it cut a clean, spiraling arc, three more Dark Elves fell to the ground, their bodies tumbling through the air before hitting the cracked stone.
A group of Elves tried to flank her from the left, firing of spells wildly. Hela raised a hand. The attacks halted mid-air, trembling, before she sent them hurtling back into their senders, blasting charred holes through their torsos.
Another squad lunged at her with serrated knives. With a flash of her smile, she grabbed one of their necks and crushed it with her bare hands. Another tried to stab her, but she effortlessly shook it off and crushed his head with her bare hands.
The attacks kept raining in, but Hela didn't dodge so much as bend the space around her, always a step ahead, always in control.
One desperate Elf lunged from behind, screaming. She impaled him without looking, her blade bursting out his chest as she whispered, "Too slow."
As the last of them fell, their corpses littering the battlefield like discarded puppets, Hela stood tall amidst the carnage. Her blades returned to her in orbit, circling like predatory birds. She looked toward Malekith with fire in her eyes.
"Send me another distraction," she called out, "and I'll send you their heads."
"You think too much woman," Malekith sneered, his voice dripping with disdain.
With a flick of her wrist, twin Necroswords materialized in Hela's hands, their edges shimmering with dark energy. She lunged forward, her movements a blur as she engaged Malekith in a deadly dance.
Each strike of her blades met with the Aether-infused defenses of her foe, sending shockwaves that cracked the very ground beneath them.
Malekith retaliated with blasts of dark energy, but Hela quickly sidestepped them all, and with each passing moment, her power continued to grow, the essence of Asgard feeding her strength.
She grew faster, smarter, stronger, deadlier, she was the Goddess of Death, and in this realm, death was her domain and no-one could defeat her in her own domain.
"This ends now," she declared, summoning a massive Necrosword and bringing it down upon her foe.
Malekith tried to defend against it, summoning a monstrous magical barrier, but the Necrosword pierced it and crashed to the ground, causing a massive explosion that rocked the entire region and left it up in smoke.
***
Meanwhile, within the palace, Maxim was moving with purpose. The corridors, once resplendent and bustling with the life of Asgardian mobility, was now littered with the bodies of fallen invaders and echoing the cries of battle and the clash of weapons.
Maxim navigated the labyrinthine halls with ease, his senses attuned to the disturbances ahead. The Mind Stone embedded in his forehead pulsed with energy, guiding him towards the source of the turmoil.
A group of marauders, Kronans, Sakaarans, and other malevolent beings, stood between him and the inner sanctum. Without hesitation, Maxim charged, his form a blur as he unleashed the full might of his powers.
He was fully displaying his Doomsday template now, each blow was absolutely devastating, rocking the entire room, absolutely shattering the enemies bones like glass and crumpling their bodies under his assault.
A Sakaaran lunged at him with a serrated blade, but Maxim caught the weapon mid-swing, crushing it in his grip before dispatching the attacker with a swift strike.
A Kronan charged, its massive frame shaking the ground, but Maxim met it head-on, their clash sending shockwaves through the chamber.
Drawing upon the Mind Stone, increased his foes density, pinning them to the ground before delivering the final blow.
With the immediate threat neutralized, Maxim turned to Frigga and Jane. Frigga nodded in gratitude, her protective spells dissipating as the danger passed.
Jane, though shaken, remained unharmed. Maxim's gaze lingered on her for a moment, the Mind Stone sensing the Aether's presence within her.
As the battle subsided, the skies above Asgard began to clear. The Dark Elves, witnessing the fall of their leader, retreated in disarray while Hela stood victorious, the corpses of Dark Elves and invaders lay sprawled like broken dolls around her.
The blood of her enemies trailed down her cheek, and her silhouette looked imposing when against the light of the light rays.
Meanwhile, across the surrounding regions, figures began to emerge from crumbled buildings, broken gates and safety camps. Warriors limping from wounds, healers wrapped in bloodied robes, civilians and more all stared at Hela in stunned silence.
They didn't know who she was, but they could sense her aura, and they saw how she protected them.
Slowly, figures began to emerge from the crumbled buildings and broken gates. Warriors limping with wounds, healers wrapped in bloodied robes, civilians shielding their eyes from the dust. They stared up at her in stunned silence. Then one voice rose, hoarse and awestruck.
"Goddess…"
A pause.
"…The Goddess of Death!"
And then more followed, a tide of voices swelling with every second.
"Goddess of Death! Goddess of Death! Goddess of Death!"
The chant rose from the battered streets like a hymn of reverence. Swords were raised, shields clanged, fists beat against chests in salute.
Hela gazed down at them, unmoving at first, her breath still coming slow and deep from the final clash. But something shifted in her gaze.
There was a stillness, a gravity, and yet… something warmer beneath it all. The recognition that had always been denied to her. She felt herself growing more satisfied as she heard them cheer her title and a smirk appeared on her lips.
She raised her glaive high into the air, and black energy burst from it like a thunderclap, a final salute to the fallen and a warning to any who dared threaten Asgard again.
Meanwhile
Within the palace, the echo of the chants reached Maxim. He stood quietly at the edge of a crumbled archway, looking out over the broken cityscape.
Frigga stood beside him, her arm wrapped around Jane, who still clutched her side, though she offered a brave smile. Thor had already arrived in the room, and was looking at Jane, happy she was safe and sound.
The Aether pulsed faintly in her chest, but for now, it was dormant, pacified by the goddess who now commanded the people's love and fear alike.
Frigga turned to Maxim. "You arrived at the perfect time," she said softly.
He didn't respond immediately. His eyes were still locked on Hela in the distance, and the crowd beneath her.
"She's right where she belongs." Maxim said.
Frigga followed his gaze, "Yes she is, she's home!"