Luke had no idea what events were unfolding at Kamar-Taj, or even at the New York Sanctum. His world, for the moment, was much smaller and far messier: inside his store, he was crouched beside Red Braid, who was trembling and retching on the floor.

The man's face was pale, his lips streaked with bile. Tears clung to the corners of his eyes as he gagged again, his stomach heaving.

During those terrible minutes when Riot had seized control, Red Braid's body had not been his own. He had been a prisoner, chained within his own skin, forced to watch as Riot indulged in monstrous hunger.

He had witnessed everything, felt every crunch, every muffled scream. Dozens of human heads, torn free, devoured one after another. Their skulls shattered by fangs before being ground into a grotesque paste that slid down his throat.

The worst part was not even the horror of the act, it was the sensation. He had felt the warmth of blood, the slickness of flesh, the bones splintering between his teeth.

Thanks to Riot's warped physiology, digestion came unnaturally quick. Even after such a feast, Red Braid's stomach showed no sign of swelling. But when the transformation faded and control returned, his mind could no longer suppress what he had experienced. His body rebelled, vomiting violently onto the floor.

He gagged again, gripping the edge of a shelf for support. "Urghh!"

Luke, standing nearby, grimaced but crouched beside him, patting his back with a mixture of pity and exasperation. "Come on, what's the big deal? It's just a few heads. As a man, you're scared of this little thing?"

Red Braid let out another choked sound, trying to spit away the taste that lingered in his mouth.

Luke jerked a thumb toward Doggo, who was sitting calmly not far away, tongue lolling as though nothing unusual had happened. "Look at Doggo. He ate way more than you did, whole bodies at that, even the guts with poop inside. He didn't even blink. And do you see him crying or puking? Nope. He's wagging his tail like it's snack time again."

Doggo barked cheerfully as if to prove Luke's point, tail thumping against the floor.

Red Braid turned his head slowly, his expression a mixture of disbelief and misery. His voice came hoarse and bitter. "Boss, I'll… I'll be fine. Just let me puke a little longer, please."

He leaned over and retched again, the sound echoing through the store.

Luke sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Heroes these days…"

…

A few months later aboard the helicarrier.

Life for Luke had settled into a rare state of peace. The world felt… unusually quiet. No alien invasions, no ancient monsters rising from the sea, not even a rogue AI. It was as though his very presence had disrupted the usual chaotic rhythm of the Marvel timeline.

Events that should have shaken Earth simply hadn't occurred. Even Dormammu, who should have loomed as a looming shadow, never arrived. His zealots had been wiped out, save for Kaecilius, who had since turned away from Dormammu and bent the knee to Gul'dan. With that, the Dark Dimension's schemes had collapsed like a house of cards.

Luke shrugged it off. Dormammu had never been more than a means to an end anyway. No plot points to collect there anymore, but it didn't matter. He only needed four more to push his system to the next level.

And as far as he was concerned, he still had time before Thanos arrived. Time before the infamous snap. With a level-five system, he was confident he could handle almost anything short of a god snapping his fingers.

Still, he wasn't careless. Precautions had been made. Bumblebee was always watching, eyes and ears in every device across the globe. If alien life dared set foot on Earth, Luke would know within minutes.

Earth was calm. But the universe, oh, the universe was roiling.

Far away, Asgard had lost its king. Odin's strength had carried him far beyond the lifespan of any Asgardian, but not forever. When his final breath left him, it was not in exile on Earth like it happened originally, but in his golden halls, surrounded by Thor and Loki.

This is because Loki was too afraid to even poke Midgard with a stick after what happened, let alone approach it.

Before death, Odin had confessed to them a final truth, that their sister, Hela, still lay imprisoned. That she must never be allowed to return to Asgard. That if she did, her strength would swell with every step, until none could hope to stop her.

Then Odin was gone.

Thor grieved openly. And Loki, for once, said nothing at all.

And in the shadows of the cosmos, Thanos stirred. Word of Odin's passing reached the Mad Titan swiftly. Emboldened, he struck at Xandar with merciless force, prying the Power Stone from Nova Corps' protection. And with his first Infinity Stone in hand, he turned his gaze toward Nidavellir, home of the dwarves.

There, he would demand from them a weapon capable of bearing all six stones.

…

Back on Earth, on top of the helicarrier, Bumblebee moved swiftly, his mechanical steps echoing. He stopped beside Luke and his panels flickered with urgency.

"Boss," he reported, his voice buzzing with static, "I've picked up something. One of the targets you told me to watch."

Luke straightened immediately, his drowsiness vanishing. "Which one?"

He had given Bumblebee a shortlist: Thanos and his generals, Hela, and Doctor Strange. Among the villains, only Thanos and Hela remained unseen. Among the heroes, Strange was still on the board.

If he could encounter just two of them, he would have more than enough plot points to force his system forward.

His bet had always been on Hela. He knew the signs. Odin's death would be the key.

Bumblebee's optics glowed brighter. "Boss, it's her. Hela. She's appeared."

Luke's eyes lit up instantly. 'Finally.'

Of all the villains in Marvel's tapestry, Hela fascinated him the most. Unlike Thanos, who wrapped his insanity in philosophy and pretense, Hela never pretended. She was what she was, ruthless, ambitious, unapologetic. She killed without remorse, conquered without shame, and never once disguised her hunger for power.

That was honesty Luke could admire.

"Perfect." He rose, a grin tugging at his lips. "Let's go. Time to see her for ourselves."

At his gesture, Doggo padded over with an eager bark, tail wagging.

Luke closed his eyes, focusing. Space around them warped, rippling outward like disturbed water. His grin widened as the rift opened, swallowing the three of them whole.

…

Norwegian seaside.

Hela emerged from the rift that bridged Niflheim and the living world.

The cold sea breeze struck her face, carrying with it the scent of salt and pine. She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes for a brief moment, savoring the simple pleasure of fresh air. After endless centuries trapped in Hel's suffocating lifelessness, this land was paradise.

A smile tugged at her lips. "So this is freedom."

Her eyes narrowed toward the horizon, where the ocean stretched endlessly. "Next comes Asgard."

For thousands of years she had dreamed of it, vengeance. Of Odin kneeling, of her chains shattered. Though Odin was already unfortunately gone, robbed from her vengeance, Asgard still stood, waiting for her to reclaim her right.

Her hands clenched into fists, nails biting into her palms as dark joy welled in her chest. Every Asgardian would either kneel or die. No exceptions.

But then, something shifted.

Her gaze snapped to her right. The air rippled, faint but undeniable, like heat waves on a summer road. A disturbance in space itself.

Her brow arched.

From the ripple, three figures stepped forth. A massive red armored figure whose metal gleamed beneath the Nordic sun. A man, casual yet confident, wearing a grin far too relaxed for someone standing before the Goddess of Death. And an ordinary fat dog, tail wagging, tongue lolling happily as though he had just wandered into a park.

Hela blinked.

Her smile faltered into something caught between amusement and disbelief. "What is this strange combination?"

Her green eyes flickered, narrowing with curiosity. The armored figure shifted with a heavy thud, the man adjusted his coat casually, and the dog barked once in cheerful greeting.

Of all the things Hela expected upon stepping into Midgard again… this was definitely not it.

…