Hello friends, how have you been? I've been a little sick lately. I've had time to write, but to be honest, my mind is elsewhere. I hope you like this chapter, which I wrote to jump ahead to a time skip with the kingdom already built. I want to skip that part so we can be on the Marvel timeline.
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The shadowy hall of Hel was dimly lit by flickering torches. Vidar and Hela stood beside an ancient throne, where the remnants of fallen souls lingered. Now, this place would become the epicenter of something new.
"For this empire to endure, it must have foundations that no sword, word, or betrayal can shatter," Vidar said, arms crossed, his gaze fixed into the void.
Hela smiled, leaning against a column covered in forgotten runes.
"And what do you propose, brother? Take the gods, the mortals, and mix them like clay? Force this creation to kneel before us out of fear?"
Vidar shook his head.
"Not out of fear. Out of inheritance."
He fell silent for a few seconds, and when he spoke again, his words rang firm like a sentence.
"We will create a race in our image. Children of our bloodline and fragments of the fallen souls that rest in this place. A race that will inherit our power… but also our will."
Hela raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
"And how will you prevent them from becoming like the gods? Arrogant, bloodthirsty, craving power without cause?"
Vidar walked toward her, darkness trailing behind him.
"We'll select only the best. The essence of warriors, sages, spirits. We'll forge them in a crucible of darkness and light, and from that amalgam, a new race will be born. We will grant them a fragment of our power… to each, I'll bestow a letter, a mark, an authority."
Hela smiled slowly, understanding.
"An elite of heirs… and the rest, their descendants, will carry the blood of the Wandenreich in their veins."
"Exactly," Vidar nodded. "Each with a specific gift, a unique faculty that we will perfect generation after generation."
Hela circled around him, watching him with that dark and fascinated gleam in her eyes.
"I never expected I'd enjoy conspiring with you so much, brother."
The air grew heavier. Not from fear — from something else. An ambiguous tension that had been building since the day they met again.
Vidar stopped before her.
"Hela… I want you to be more than my ally."
She looked at him from the corner of her eye, a half-smile on her lips.
"I already am."
Vidar shook his head.
"I want you as my queen. As the mother of this new race."
A dense silence settled between them. The shadows seemed to hold their breath. Hela stepped closer, her lips barely brushing his.
"Then… take me."
And that was all it took.
They came together with violence and pent-up hunger. It wasn't love; it was claim. It was fury, ambition, desire. Darkness danced around them.
The stone bed became the stage for that union. The echoes of their names resounded through the empty corridors of Hel. No gods or mortals bore witness to it… only the shadows, which had always known.
When the storm calmed, Hela rested her head against Vidar's chest, listening to his steady breathing.
"This will be more fun than I imagined," she whispered.
Vidar stroked her dark hair.
"It's only just begun."