Chapter 258: Picking Up the Goddess of Death, Hela, on the Road
Everyone arrived at the central control room.
On the isolation glass in front of them, a young woman wearing a black skintight outfit with green stripes was plastered against it, clutching a short-handled hammer in her hand.
"The Goddess of Death, Hela!"
Allen recognized her at a glance—wasn't this the very goddess who had gotten herself knocked up in the Underworld?
"You know her, Boss?" Yondu asked curiously.
"Bring her in."
It was currently six hundred years ago, over a century earlier than the previous timeline. The Council of Gods hadn't been formed yet.
In that case, Hela was probably still out conquering realms for Odin.
A mechanical arm extended from the spaceship, retrieving the unconscious—or possibly dead—Hela and bringing her aboard.
Reviewing the voyage footage, they had indeed passed through a region littered with mangled corpses.
All female. Severed limbs. Fallen bodies. And many winged Pegasi.
Without a doubt, it had been the Valkyrie unit—Asgard's elite war legion—wiped out in some unknown star system.
Realizing this, everyone looked at Hela with growing concern, worried she might bring even more trouble with her.
Scans confirmed Hela still had vital signs.
However, her bio-scan didn't resemble a typical lifeform.
Not that it was surprising—she was a deity, after all. She could drift through the vacuum of space without dying and was strong enough to fight the Hulk one-on-one.
"She's still alive, thank goodness."
Allen exclaimed with delight, "Let's seize the moment and do it!"
Everyone shot him blank looks, and Allen instantly lost interest.
No one bothered to stop him—what was even the point then?
Heh…
While the group debated how to wake her up, Hela suddenly took a deep breath and came to.
Her eyes, heavily rimmed in black shadow, were blank and dazed as they scanned the unfamiliar faces around her.
"Where am I?" Hela asked in confusion.
"Mama!"
Allen flung himself into her arms and whimpered, "Thank goodness you're okay! Lenny was so worried!"
Mama!?
When did I ever have a kid?
And such a grown kid at that. Doesn't even look particularly bright.
Thunk!
Without hesitation, Hela smacked Allen on the head with Thor's hammer.
Allen collapsed, twitching on the floor in a daze.
"Easy there."
Frank pulled out his twin pistols, now enchanted with Hellfire, and explained, "We saved you."
"You saved me?"
Hela's tone calmed slightly as she murmured, "I… think I have amnesia."
Frank said nothing but smiled. In his original world, the fearsome reputation of the Goddess of Death was well-known—Thor's sister, even Odin was wary of her.
A god with amnesia… how ironic.
The rest of the crew had no recollection of her. After all, in this timeline, Asgard still operated in the mortal realm and didn't have the fame it would gain in the era of the Council of Gods.
They replayed the voyage footage. Watching the Valkyries fall in battle, a flicker of emotion crossed Hela's eyes—barely perceptible, but there.
"Thank you all."
Hela offered her gratitude. Her gaze lingered briefly when it passed over Thanos.
No one else noticed, but the Lady Death standing beside Thanos gave her a smile.
As the Goddess of Death, Hela naturally held dominion over death itself—of course she could see the personification of Death.
It was just that neither of them acknowledged it out loud. A quiet understanding.
"Don't thank us."
Frank pointed at the still-spasming Allen. "You should thank the Captain."
"That's right! You should be thanking me."
Allen sprang to his feet as if nothing had happened, completely revitalized. "And in return, you can join my Galactic Peacekeeping, Mutual Aid, Equality, Friendship, Endangered Species Protection, and Environmental Patrol Team—aka the Guardians of the Galaxy!"
He's the captain?
Are you people insane!?
Hela silently cursed. What kind of deranged team would elect such a lunatic as captain?
Seeing her unmoved, Allen declared solemnly, "Join us and earn a monthly salary of a thousand credits. Year-round work with no holidays. Self-funded benefits. Fines for being late or leaving early. We pride ourselves on our aggressive hustle culture."
"…"
Compared to that, capitalists back home were saints.
"I can stay with your team for a while… to recover my memory."
Of course, that wasn't her real reason.
Having failed in leading the Valkyries to victory, returning to Asgard now would only mean facing Odin's punishment. It was better to hide out for a while and return later when things calmed down.
"Welcome aboard."
They raised their glasses to celebrate the new addition.
Hela drained hers and introduced herself, "I'm Hela, from Asgard."
Everyone introduced themselves as well, formally getting to know one another.
Over time, conversations onboard the ship grew more frequent and lively.
The symbiote illusion even got drunk and started demonstrating its shapeshifting powers, explaining how its name came about.
Only Allen could be seen hugging thin air and calling out to the Lady Death, begging for a kiss.
At first, Hela thought he was talking to her and nearly lifted the hammer again in fury. But then she realized there really was a personification of Death present.
Peeking over, she saw the Lady Death wearing an expression of deep disgust.
"Death babe, I'm the hottest guy at Greenhill Rehabilitation Center. Don't you dare ignore me."
Allen hugged at the air with both arms, lifted one leg flirtatiously, puckered his lips, and leaned forward as if about to kiss.
A moment later, he drew back and adopted a self-righteous tone: "No kiss for you. I'm a proper gentleman—I'd never do something so indecent."
Proper gentleman!?
Say that again, I dare you.
Who the hell lunges at someone screaming "Mama!" the first time they meet?
You shameless clown.
Veins popped on Hela's forehead as she glared at Allen's idiotic face.
On the third day, the spaceship neared the target planet.
[Arrived at designated destination: Cetus A2C5 Planet. All crew, please check safety equipment. Preparing for atmospheric entry…]
The ship jolted violently.
Everyone gripped their seat handles tightly.
As they pierced through the atmosphere, flames of intense heat engulfed the ship's exterior.
Within minutes, the decelerators under the hull fired, countering the downward force and allowing for a steady landing.
"Fantastic! First stop on our interstellar travel adventure!"
Unfastening his safety harness, Allen sprinted off the ship in high spirits.
What greeted him was a gray, seemingly endless plain. A barren wasteland stretching into the horizon.
Hah…
He took a deep breath and exhaled.
"The alien air… why does it smell like rotten eggs? Cough cough…"
Clutching his throat, Allen collapsed to the ground, rolling around as he struggled to breathe.
Clearly, this planet's atmospheric composition differed from Earth's. Human lungs couldn't handle it.
Everyone looked on with a mix of disbelief and exasperation.
"Does this guy seriously not know the basic rule of wearing an oxygen mask on unknown planets?"
Frank, now in his Ghost Rider form—a flaming skeleton—mocked him without a hint of concern.
Yondu handed Allen an oxygen device.
With clear breaths flowing again, Allen shamelessly declared, "I almost suffocated on my own good looks."