The air split with a shriek as Tom swung his magical scythe with divine precision. A rift sliced through reality itself, and from that gaping wound in the sky emerged shadows—thousands upon thousands of them. Identical to Tom in appearance, each clone held a glowing, magical scythe in hand, their eyes gleaming with cold, unfeeling purpose. They weren't mere illusions. No, these were shadows of pure chaos—impossible to dissolve or damage, each infused with the same terrifying power as Tom himself.
They stood still at first, rows upon rows of them forming behind the original, their presence warping the very air with dark energy. The ground trembled. The sky dimmed.
As the army of Valkyries and male soldiers under Odin charged forward with a battle cry, Tom raised his hand. With a single, dismissive wave, he hurled himself forward like a bolt of darkness—followed by his 100,000 shadow clones.
What followed was nothing less than apocalyptic.
Clones stormed the battlefield like a black tide. Tom's scythe gleamed as it tore through flesh and bone. One Valkyrie screamed as he split her cleanly in half, her body flailing before hitting the ground. Another clone decapitated three soldiers in one sweeping slash, blood spraying across the battlefield like crimson mist.
A massive male soldier swung his hammer toward one of Tom's clones, only for the weapon to phase right through the shadow. The clone responded with a blade slash so fast that it turned the soldier's body to dust.
"Is this war?" Tom muttered under his breath, laughing. "No… this is extinction."
From above, thunder crackled violently. Thor descended like a meteor, slamming his hammer into a group of Tom's clones.
Lightning exploded—but did nothing.
The hammer passed through them like wind through fog.
Tom appeared behind him, arms crossed, and chuckled. "Well, now it's confirmed—you're a real dumb."
Thor turned with fury. "How the hell is this even possible?"
"You can't hit or damage them," Tom replied, his smirk widening. "Because they are shadows. And worse—each one of them is just as powerful as me."
Thor's eyes widened.
In the distance, Claudia watched the unfolding slaughter with flushed cheeks. Her heart raced, not from fear—but admiration. Lust. She whispered to herself, "Yes... I chose the right man."
Odin, watching everything from a cliff, clenched his fists. With a flash of light, he teleported back to Asgard.
Thor turned to do the same.
But before he could escape, Tom blinked into existence right in front of him and slammed his boot into Thor's face, sending him crashing into a giant rock, blood dripping from his lip.
Behind them, the war raged on. Screams and explosions echoed through the shattered lands of Asgard.
Thor roared and stood, shaking. "You bastard! If you're a real man, fight me hand-to-hand!"
Tom tossed away his scythe. It dissolved into the air like mist.
"Fine. Let's dance."
Thor charged, fists blazing with electric fury. He landed punch after punch, but Tom twisted, ducked, countered. One of Thor's hooks nearly connected—but Tom answered with a jab to Thor's jaw, followed by a flurry of brutal, bone-breaking punches.
A final kick to Thor's chest sent him flying. Blood poured from his mouth.
Raising his hand, Thor summoned Mjolnir.
"I know I'm going to die," he growled.
Tom scoffed. "Oh, you're intelligent now?"
Thor snarled, "But you will definitely die, Tom!"
Tom rolled his eyes. "Okay, I take it back—you're really dumb."
Suddenly, Thor vanished—appearing behind Claudia with a dagger pressed against her neck.
"If you move or attack," he growled, "I will kill her right here."
Tom started laughing.
"I think you forget… she was a Wendigo."
Claudia's body twisted. Bones cracked. Flesh stretched. In seconds, she transformed into a towering Wendigo, monstrous and beautiful, her claws extending like spears.
She slammed her claws into Thor's chest, lifting him like a ragdoll and hurling him toward Tom.
Tom summoned his scythe mid-air, caught it, and with a single slash—cut Thor's head clean off.
Gasps filled the battlefield.
The remaining Valkyries and male soldiers froze in terror.
Then they realized—Odin was gone.
In a panic, they teleported back to Asgard.
Tom held Thor's head in his hand and turned to his clones. "Now… get out."
All of them vanished into mist.
Tom exhaled, then looked at Claudia. "Go to my house. Talk with my wife… Medusa."
Claudia giggled. "You want me to get to know her better, right?"
"Yeah, because—"
"I'm going to talk to her about me being your wife too," Claudia said, smiling.
"No, no, no!"
"Yes, yes, yes."
She vanished.
Tom sighed. "Oh shit."
He appeared again in Asgard.
357,000 soldiers remained. All were injured.
Odin now stood behind them, radiating rage.
Tom smirked. "So, the All-Father hides behind women now?"
The army charged.
Tom swung his scythe.
Dozens fell—cleaved in half.
Then Tom raised Thor's head for all to see.
Odin screamed and launched himself at Tom.
What followed was a violent storm of magic and raw might.
Odin's fists glowed like suns. Tom's scythe clashed against divine energy. They moved faster than sound—each strike splitting mountains, tearing the sky.
Tom blasted Odin through a castle wall. Odin countered by sending hundreds of spears of light. Tom dodged, but one grazed him.
Blood trickled from his shoulder.
They clashed again.
Tom kicked Odin into the ground, but Odin shot up with a headbutt that cracked Tom's jaw. The fight turned savage. No spells. No tricks.
Only fists and pain.
Finally, Odin collapsed, leaning against a crumbled wall. Bleeding. Broken.
Tom limped forward, scythe in hand.
"I am the All-Father!" Odin roared. "I curse you! You will beg for death—but never receive it!"
Tom swung.
Odin's head fell. His body slumped.
Silence.
Asgard trembled.
Tom raised his scythe high, stabbed it into the ground, and chanted an old, forgotten spell.
Souls rose from the dead, swirling into him. Their cries echoed across the ruins.
Tom's body glowed—his skin turned milk white. His muscles became more shredded, his features sharper, more handsome. Power surged around him like a storm.
"I've taken my revenge," he whispered, "but one thing remains."
He dropped his scythe—it vanished.
He walked slowly through destroyed Asgard, smiling darkly.
—
Meanwhile, Claudia arrived at Tom's home.
"Huff! It's really hard to find... I thought it would be easy," Claudia muttered, brushing her hair back. "Where is everyone?"
Suddenly, a sharp voice echoed in the air, "Who the hell are you, and why are you here?!"
Claudia didn't even have time to react. Medusa appeared in front of her, her long serpentine hair slithering behind her like living shadows. The deadly point of her staff was pressed against Claudia's neck, inches from piercing her throat.
Claudia blinked—but instead of fear, she smiled and said calmly, "So... you're my dear's wife."
Medusa narrowed her eyes. "What? No. No, no, no. Tom would never cheat on me."
Claudia raised her hands peacefully and gently pushed the staff away. "Cool, cool, sister. Relax. Tom's not cheating on you. He's a good man."
Medusa studied her for a moment, unsure. Slowly, she lowered the staff. "Then why did you call him 'dear'?"
Claudia walked past her with a graceful sway and plopped onto the couch. She patted the seat beside her. "Come, sit. Let's talk."
Hesitant, suspicious, and still full of divine pride, Medusa sat down but kept her staff within reach. "Talk? About what?"
Claudia turned, resting her chin on her hand with a sly grin. "About love. About... sharing."
Medusa blinked. "What?"
Claudia's voice became softer but firm. "Look, I'm not here to steal him. I just want to stand beside him. I've seen him fight, laugh, command the shadows like a king of the night. And I... I've fallen for him. I know you love him, I respect that. But I want a place in his heart too."
Medusa scoffed. "Do you think love is something you can ask for like a favor?"
"No," Claudia admitted. "But I'm not asking to replace you. I'm asking for space beside you. Not above. Not below. Equal."
Medusa stood up, pacing. Her eyes shimmered with wrath and confusion. "Tom is mine! I've stood with him through blood, fire, and betrayal. He chose me!"
Claudia followed her with her gaze. "And yet... he let me live. He let me walk beside him. He trusted me. Would a man like Tom allow a woman he doesn't care about to get that close?"
Medusa looked away, her fists clenched. "You're dangerous."
"So is he. So are you. And yet love still happened between you two," Claudia said, stepping forward. "I won't ruin what you have. I'll protect it. But I also want my place in his world. Let me love him in my way."
There was a long silence. Medusa stared into the glowing embers in the hearth. Her jaw tightened, and her hand gripped her staff until her knuckles turned white. Finally, she turned and said, "Okay. You can be his wife too."
Claudia gasped slightly in surprise.
"But listen closely," Medusa warned, stepping closer, eyes blazing. "Don't ever think he will love you more than me. I am the queen of his heart. I was there first. His soul burns for me."
Claudia nodded with a gentle smile. "I know. And I respect that. I just want him to know that his shadow... can have more than one light."
They both stared at each other in silence—tension fading into something more complex. Respect, perhaps.
Suddenly, the front door creaked open. Tom appeared, covered in dark soot and blood, his scythe vanishing from his hand. He froze in the doorway as he saw the two women sitting together.
"I think I'm going to die now..." he muttered under his breath.
Medusa turned her head toward him slowly, her stare cold and haunting, and said, "We need to talk. Come here."
Tom gulped. "Shit."