A sharpened evergreen stake pierced the dark god clean through, front to back.
Torrents of dark brown fluid poured from his body.
"AAAARGH—!" The middle-aged man's face twisted and warped in agony. Chunks of flesh sloughed off as his features contorted into something utterly savage—like a wrathful spirit crawled fresh out of hell.
The evergreen's lethality against this Winter Solstice God was devastating. Imbued with humanity's collective goodwill toward Christmas, the wood was anathema to a dark god who still went around eating people on Christmas. One strike, and he was finished.
Bella rubbed her temples. If I'd known it was going to be this easy, I wouldn't have wasted a Mind Blast. With her opponent dealt with, she turned to check on the other fight.
On the far side, Natasha had reached a critical moment in her battle with the middle-aged woman.
Leveraging her superior physical abilities and combat technique, she'd already gained the upper hand over a goddess who hadn't thrown a punch in over a thousand years.
But the dying scream of the middle-aged man had spooked the woman badly. Only then did she notice the evergreen wood not far from Natasha.
She let out a piercing shriek and spat a thick, viscous arrow of blood from her mouth.
The gap between them was too small. Natasha feared the substance might be corrosive and twisted sideways to dodge.
As Natasha evaded the blood arrow, the woman seized the opening and bolted in the opposite direction.
"Damn it!" Natasha broke into a sprint to pursue.
Bella wasn't about to let her kid sister chase a dark god. But the evergreen branch she'd used was spent, and stopping to carve a new one would take too long. She looked left and right—no one was watching—and threw decorum to the wind. Hands forward, feet planted, core tight, she wrenched a roadside Christmas tree straight out of the ground.
It was still an evergreen. It would still do the job.
"Move!" she yelled, then hoisted the tree trunk overhead and—with the form of a javelin thrower—launched the entire Christmas tree over a hundred meters (330+ ft) through the air.
The tree lacked penetrating power, but it had mass.
Combined with the evergreen's overwhelming suppressive effect on the Winter Solstice Goddess, the trunk slammed her to the ground. She struggled but couldn't get back up.
Natasha didn't hesitate. She grabbed a handful of branches from the tree and drove them into the woman's mouth, eyes, and ears with ruthless precision.
The dark goddess quickly joined her partner in death. Evergreen branches jutted from every orifice of her face—from a distance, the scene looked like something straight out of a horror movie.
Bella dusted off her hands and walked over for a closer look.
From a human perspective, both Winter Solstice Gods were dead. But from a divine perspective, they were still alive.
Given a few years, they would probably reconstitute themselves. Killing them permanently was beyond Bella's current abilities.
Santa most likely hadn't wanted them dead anyway. If he had, handling it personally would've been far more efficient than Bella and Natasha.
"Call your organization," Bella said. "Have them lock these two up."
She knew about S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Cabin-in-the-Woods program. When you already had a head full of bumps, one more knock hardly mattered. Throw these two in with the rest.
They rescued the man in the sack. He'd been beaten bloody by the male god before the fight and was still unconscious, his face a mess of blood. They handed him over to S.H.I.E.L.D. as well.
Natasha completed the handoff with the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents who arrived for containment, then borrowed a Quinjet to fly back to Los Angeles.
The trip there had taken the blink of an eye. The trip back took two hours.
Charlie and the others were already asleep. The two of them crept inside as quietly as they could.
At home, they obviously couldn't get too carried away—Bella herself didn't think much of it, but Natasha... Natasha tended to get loud, and far too seductive to go unnoticed.
Bella held the Prong of Loyalty from the Isu Trident, her mind already working on how to track down the other two prongs.
They retreated to their respective rooms. Natasha suddenly called out to Bella: "Hey—could I borrow some money?"
"How much?"
Natasha wore a rare look of sheepishness, her smile tinged with embarrassment. "Ten million?"
Bella's expression went flat. "You might as well sell me."
"I could never!"
Bella rubbed her forehead. What was the point of making money if not for moments like this? It certainly wasn't for the benefit of the American public.
She sighed, mentally tallied her accessible private funds, and wrote a check on the spot. "Here. It's a bearer check. Cash it in Kuala Lumpur."
Natasha's expression was something to behold. She'd always known Bella was wealthy, but she hadn't realized it went this far.
Ten million dollars, just like that?
She'd originally planned to ask for one million. Now she felt that poverty had truly limited her imagination.
Having successfully flexed in front of Natasha, Bella strutted back to her room in high spirits and went to bed.
...
The incident in the small town never made the news. The local paper covered it in a tiny column — "gas explosion" — and aside from the dark gods' immediate neighbors, the disappearance of the couple generated no further attention whatsoever.
With the money from Bella, Natasha began preparations to synthesize the anti-aging serum based on the Infinity Formula that Santa had gifted her.
The bio-virus had already slowed her aging considerably, but compared to Bella—who hadn't aged a single day in three years—the gap was still glaring. During one particularly... enthusiastic evening together, Bella had gotten too caught up in the moment and let something slip: barring any accidents, she could live for two hundred years. Her forties would be equivalent to a normal person's twenties; her sixties, their thirties.
Factor in the life-extending effects of psionic energy, and the number climbed even higher.
When they'd first met, Bella had clearly looked two years older than Natasha. Now? They looked about the same age.
Natasha had always been attentive to her appearance. But after being subjected to Bella's constant questioning — "Who is the most beautiful woman in the world?" "Which woman on Earth is the most gorgeous?" — the influence had rubbed off. Her concern for her looks had gone from considerable to obsessive. She refused to let herself age. Absolutely not.
...
After Christmas, 2002 drew to a close, and a brand-new year—2003—arrived.
The Swan family of four was in a frenzy, because Samantha's due date had come.
Bella—Brotherhood Mentor and shadow ruler of Weyland-Yutani—and Natasha—now a Level Five elite operative—both dropped everything and came home to be there.
They gathered at the UCSF Medical Center, waiting for little Kitty's arrival.
Watching Charlie pace back and forth outside the delivery room like an ant on a hot griddle, Bella and Natasha could only try to reassure him.
"Relax, everything's going to be fine."
"The baby's in the right position. A natural delivery won't be a problem."
They repeated every reassurance they could think of—over and over, forwards and backwards—until they were sick of hearing their own voices. And yet, every single time, Charlie would look enormously encouraged... only to spiral back into anxiety five minutes later. So they'd start the whole cycle again.
It wasn't until Charlie finally dozed off in his chair that the two of them could breathe.
They exchanged a glance.
Giving birth is way too stressful.