Moments later, Erik strode into the throne room, "Are the preparations proceeding well?" he asked.
Wanda, standing near a table littered with maps and artifacts, raised her eyes and smiled wryly. "They are," she replied.
Erik nodded, a flicker of approval crossing his features. "Good. Will you be joining us there, Wanda?"
Wanda shook her head, her expression thoughtful. "No, I think I'll stay behind and gather all the books and items on magic and runes I can find. I've asked Cindy to assist me. There might be knowledge here that could aid us later."
"That's fine," Erik said after a brief pause. "But be cautious. Asgard is still restless. There may be angry assassins or traps laid out here and there."
Wanda offered a small, confident smile in response, and Erik turned to Hela, who was practically vibrating with anticipation.
"Let's go," he said, his tone brooking no delay.
Hela beamed, falling into step beside him as they departed for the city center, flanked by Chitauri soldiers clad in ceremonial golden armor.
Behind them, the resurrected Odin followed, his cuffs clinking softly with each step.
The city center was a vast, open square framed by towering statues and shimmering spires, now filled with a restless sea of Asgardians.
Hundreds had gathered, their faces etched with a mixture of fear, curiosity, and barely concealed anger.
Whispers rippled through the crowd as Erik, Hela, and their entourage ascended the decorated stage, the cuffed Odin a stark and unsettling centerpiece.
Hela strode forward, her presence silencing the masses with its sheer intensity.
"I am Hela," she declared, her voice cutting through the air like a blade. "Odin's firstborn, the goddess of death. Long was I imprisoned by my father, but now I return to serve our new king, Eirikyr, as his executioner—and his queen."
At the word "queen," Erik's eyes narrowed, a flash of irritation crossing his face. He hadn't agreed to that yet, and the presumption grated on him.
Yet, with so many watching, he held his tongue, thinking of punishing her later.
Hela, oblivious to his displeasure, pressed on with fervor. "As his executioner, I shall perform my duty for the first time today."
She gestured sharply, and two Chitauri soldiers pushed Odin forward.
The All-Father knelt on the beheading block, his head resting on the cold stone with an eerie calm.
The crowd held its breath as Hela summoned her black blades, their edges glinting ominously in the light.
Her eyes gleamed with a wild, almost manic delight, and a maniacal smile curled her lips as she raised her weapon high.
"No!" the voices of people's cries were heard, but it was drowned out as Hela swung her blade down with ruthless precision.
Odin's head separated from his body, rolling across the platform with a dull thud.
Gasps turned to screams as Hela seized the severed head and thrust it into the air, her voice ringing out. "Behold the fate of those who defy our king!"
Chaos erupted. Some Asgardians wept, others shouted in fury, but all were transfixed by the horror before them.
Erik observed the tumult with a measured gaze, allowing the weight of the moment to settle.
'This is cruel. But necessary, still though... this was enough stick for Asgardians... now it's time for the carrot.'
Then, he stepped forward, raising a hand to silence the crowd.
"For thousands of years, Asgard has conquered realms without mercy or care," he began, his words deliberate and piercing. "Odin, your former king, was the most heartless and ruthless of all. He built his legacy on bloodshed, and when his ambitions were sated, he locked away his own daughter, who served him faithfully."
"But I did not conquer Asgard for revenge or mere conquest," he continued. "I have not come to torment or oppress you. I came to claim what was mine—the Aether, wrested from the Dark Elves in a war for which you once hailed me as a hero."
"You all uselessly suffered because of your greedy king. The lives I claimed, the souls I enslaved—they were meaningless sacrifices. You all shouldn't have suffered, and since I have the power to do so, I shall return the souls of your loved ones, just as you knew and loved them."
Gasps of disbelief punctured the air, a fragile hope flickering in the eyes of the weary Asgardians.
"You think he can do that?"
"Maybe it's possible...?"
"Oh Valahalla's grace, please his words be true, please husband come back alive to us..."
Erik's expression remained steady, he reached within Beelzebuth's Stomach, drawing forth a fistful of the yellow Eternal Flame, its searing light pulsing in his grasp.
The crowd watched, breathless, as he knelt and slammed his fist into the stone platform.
The impact resounded like thunder, and the yellow flame erupted outward, transforming mid-air into a vibrant green flood.
Guided by Erik's intent, it surged across the golden streets of Asgard like a living tide, weaving through alleys, around spires, and into homes. The green fire shimmered with an otherworldly glow, finding and flowing into all [Resurrected] Asgardian soldiers.
"Your loved ones should be coming to you very soon," Erik declared, his voice rising over the growing hum of awe.
This was the carrot after Hela's brutal stick—a gift to bind the people to him, to transform their fear into loyalty.
But he wasn't done. He turned to Hela, who stood poised with Odin's severed head in her hands, her eyes gleaming with wild adoration. With a curt nod, he signaled her to proceed.
Hela, ever the performer, placed Odin's head back on his torso, aligning it roughly with the neck.
The crowd's murmurs hushed as Erik raised his hand, and a surge of energy crackled through the air.
The energy struck Odin's broken form, fusing the head seamlessly to the body.
The All-Father's eyes snapped open, blank and obedient, devoid of the wisdom that once defined him. He rose to his feet, a hollow shell under Erik's command.
"As for your previous, defeated king," Erik proclaimed, his voice carrying a weight that silenced the crowd, "he shall serve in my army as a form of punishment."
He paused, letting the words sink in, then added, "I may or may not return your king in due time—after he serves his punishment under my command."
A heavy silence settled over the square, the Asgardians torn between hope and skepticism.
Some clung to the promise of their loved ones' return, their gratitude visible, while others stared at Odin's soulless form, wrestling with the reality of their fallen king.
Erik could have used the dead Asgardians as soldiers too. But he chose not to do so... Right now, increasing numbers wasn't necessary. All-Seeing Eyes, Odin-force, artifacts... The gains he obtained from the war were enough.
He had shown them mercy and might in equal measure, a ruler who could wield both life and death.
With his message delivered, Erik turned to depart, his entourage falling into step behind him.
Hela followed with a buoyant stride, her gaze fixed on him from the side. A blush colored her pale cheeks, and a crazed smile danced on her lips.
'Such a domineering man you are, Erik… my beloved… husband-to-be…' she thought, her heart pounding with a desire she hadn't known in millennia.
She longed to claim him, to bind him to her in every way, blaming him entirely for the fire he'd ignited within her. But Erik, lost in his own plans, paid her no mind as they vanished from the square.
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