The Minister of the World Security Council was killed in the street.
It was a bold, public execution.
The international community—particularly the government of Country M—put on a good show. Loud condemnations. Furious press conferences. Righteous demands for justice. Thunder and lightning on the surface… but no real rain.
Behind closed doors, the truth was simpler: the government decided to look the other way.
They couldn't afford a war with someone like the Goddess of Judgment.
But while the higher-ups played politics and swept things under the rug, within S.H.I.E.L.D., chaos reigned.
An uproar broke out inside the organization. Not all of it came from loyal agents. A significant portion of the noise stemmed from Pierce's faction—his handpicked team of loyalists.
That faction had another name.
HYDRA.
Pierce wasn't just a high-ranking official. He was a Hydra commander. And now that he, along with several key operatives, had been wiped out, the entire organization inside S.H.I.E.L.D. was thrown into disarray.
Fear gripped the hidden agents. Uncertainty spread like wildfire. They had lost their leader and their direction.
But the real shock came when Director Nick Fury took action.
Until now, he had operated with caution, always playing things close to the vest. But the death of Pierce—and everything it revealed—forced his hand.
Fury now believed, without a doubt, that something was seriously wrong within S.H.I.E.L.D.
He might not have concrete proof yet, but the pattern was clear. A cancer had spread within the organization. And it had to be cut out before it consumed the entire body.
He didn't know exactly where Pierce's loyalties ultimately lay—whether he was answering to an earth-based faction, or some larger force from beyond the planet—but that didn't matter now.
Fury had seen enough.
The purge began that very day.
A storm unlike any other swept through S.H.I.E.L.D.'s ranks. Files were opened. Agents were interrogated. Networks were dismantled. Everyone was under suspicion.
Fury had declared war on the rot within his own house.
And Bella?
She knew it would come to this.
She had said just enough—let just enough slip—to plant the seed in Fury's paranoid mind. She didn't need to issue orders. With his personality, he was never going to ignore such an obvious red flag.
She had pushed him, and now he was wielding the blade for her.
Bella wasn't interested in wading through the muck to root out every Hydra agent herself. That was a task for someone like Fury, with the resources and reach to pull it off. She was merely the catalyst.
And she had delivered the message.
Pierce's death on a public street wasn't just vengeance—it was a statement.
It was her version of drawing a line in the sand.
Despite her immense power and terrifying presence, Bella had always played by a certain set of rules. She left the so-called "good guys" alone, focusing her efforts on demons, monsters, and those beyond redemption. It made her seem noble, or at least tolerable, in the eyes of the world.
And that illusion had made some people foolish.
They assumed she wouldn't go too far.
They stroked their beards in smug superiority, thinking that as long as they operated within the shadows of government or law, she would never move against them. That she'd never dare touch someone like Pierce—an influential leader protected by status and bureaucracy.
They were wrong.
Pierce's execution shattered that illusion.
Bella had made it clear: it didn't matter who you were—director, general, even the President himself—if you crossed her, you would die.
There would be no warnings. No negotiations.
Only judgment.
In the grand scheme of things, Pierce's death meant nothing to her. He was just one man—insignificant in the face of cosmic threats.
HYDRA, too, was small potatoes in her eyes. They might hold power on Earth, manipulating governments and conducting secret experiments. But beyond this world? They were laughably minor.
When you compared HYDRA to forces like the Nova Corps, the Skrull Empire, the Kree, or even the secretive Shi'ar—what did they amount to?
Nothing but insects.
If Pierce hadn't poked the hornet's nest, she wouldn't have even bothered acknowledging Hydra's existence. Hunting them down personally wouldn't improve her strength or unlock new powers. It would just be a waste of time.
She had better things to do.
Like planning an outdoor barbecue with Anji.
Now that was worth her time.
The world was full of danger. She could feel it. A looming pressure building across the stars. Something was coming.
It made her restless. Gave her a sense of urgency. A quiet fire burned in her chest every day—warning her not to grow complacent. Not to settle down.
And yet, there were moments—like now—when she wanted a piece of peace.
She had power, yes. Enough to destroy cities. Enough to fight gods.
But she still wanted a home.
Something permanent.
A place of rest.
And so, after leaving the chaos of Manhattan behind, Bella made a quiet stop—not to hunt, not to fight, but to buy a villa.
It wasn't far from the city, nestled in a quiet patch of coastal land overlooking the sea. The cliffs nearby gave her the high ground, while the thick forests surrounding the estate ensured privacy.
She wore a black coat that fluttered in the sea breeze, helmet tucked under one arm as she walked alongside the broker—a middle-aged man who tried not to tremble in her presence.
The property was luxurious. Three floors. Reinforced structure. Custom basement. Helipad.
But Bella wasn't looking at specs.
She stood on the balcony and stared out at the ocean, golden eyes glowing faintly.
Peaceful. For now.
"Do you… like it?" the agent asked hesitantly.
She didn't answer.
She simply nodded.
And that was enough.
They finalized the paperwork in less than an hour. The price didn't matter to her. Money was trivial. Especially when she could forge any material she needed, hack any system she wanted, or simply take it by force.
But she chose to pay. Chose to follow the rules—this time.
Because for Bella, this wasn't about conquest.
It was about having a place of her own. A place untouched by war. A place she could return to when the universe inevitably turned on itself again.
The villa's interior was sleek, modern, and filled with sunlight. She stood by the wide windows and watched the sea shimmer beneath the fading sun.
She thought about the future.
About Anji's smile.
About whether she'd have time to rest before the next enemy arrived.
Because there would be enemies. That much was certain.
Power like hers didn't go unnoticed forever.
There were old things—sleeping things—watching from the void beyond stars. Beings who would one day crawl from their prisons and challenge her.
And when that day came, she'd be ready.
But for now…
Bella set her helmet on the table, stretched her arms, and walked to the back patio.
She opened a storage compartment built into the outdoor kitchen.
Inside?
Charcoal. Steel grates. And a pack of skewers.
She smirked.
Maybe it was time to fire up that barbecue after all.
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