Although Hela's cheeks flushed faintly from the humiliation of the earlier incident, she did not strike again right away. The goddess of death was many things: proud, merciless, arrogant, but she was not reckless.

Her gaze flicked toward the faint ripple of distorted air that lingered between her and Luke. That bizarre spatial phenomenon had swallowed her blades and returned them to attack her instead. She could not dismiss it as a mere trick.

'So this mortal commands space itself.'

Her fingers flexed at her sides, phantom weight where her true swords should have been. The thought needled her pride, but another thought quickly followed: she needed this power.

If she was to return to Asgard, space-warping abilities such as his would prove invaluable. The Bifröst was closed to her. Heimdall would never dare summon her. And Odin's death ensured there was no one else in Asgard who might bring her home willingly.

The alternative was a spaceship. Yet she knew better than most that the void was vast, star maps rare, and wormholes unpredictable. Without guidance, even an immortal might spend centuries adrift in nothingness.

Her eyes, cold as a grave, locked on Luke. "Your ability," she asked, her tone laced with suspicion, "can you travel through space at will?"

Luke's answer came with a smile, deliberately smooth. "Naturally. With this ability, I could easily take you even to Asgard."

At those words, Hela's emerald eyes glimmered with a spark she could not hide. The very thing she desired most… was casually offered. In Asgard, her power would surge, her army would swell, and her rightful dominion could finally be reclaimed.

For a moment she hesitated. Pride warred with practicality. Part of her whispered she could bend just long enough, pretend to kneel, and gain what she needed. After all… once she regained her full strength, killing him would be simple.

As soon as this thought crossed her mind, the system immediately chimed in Luke's mind: [Ding! The goddess of death Hela is shaken by the host's power. A faint thought of surrender has emerged in her heart.]

Luke's eyes sharpened. 'Gotcha!'

Hela tilted her head downward, thinking furiously. 'If I bend for now… if I pretend… then he will open the path for me. Once in Asgard, I will rise. And then, I'll end him.'

Her lips curled ever so faintly. The thought thrilled her.

But Luke, watching her carefully, decided to press harder. He stepped forward with calm assurance, his voice firm yet strangely kind.

"Look," he said, "if you surrender to me, I'll take you to Asgard. I'll even support your plans, whatever they may be. And unlike others, I won't demand you kneel. Your pride can remain intact."

His words were casual, but his eyes gleamed with intent.

The system fed him hints whenever she wavered, and Luke trusted it. He knew that if she accepted, even falsely, the bond would lock her completely, just as it had Gul'dan.

Hela raised her head slowly. "You are certain?" she asked, her voice heavy. "You can truly send me back to Asgard?"

Luke didn't hesitate. "Absolutely. Wherever you wish to go."

Silence stretched between them, the sea winds ruffling her black cape. Finally, through gritted teeth, she whispered: "...Very well. Then I will surrender to you."

The system chimed instantly: [Ding! Hela has surrendered to the host. Though her intent is false, she can never betray you.]

In that moment, unseen chains bound her will. Hela herself did not realize it, but the murderous plots she had nursed just seconds before withered into nothingness. Instead, as her heart shifted without warning, she felt a strange sense of ease, as if acknowledging Luke as her master was not disgraceful at all, but almost… right.

She stepped forward with slow, regal poise until she stood before him. Her eyes, still proud, still cold, softened with an edge of newfound loyalty.

Then, with deliberate grace, she inclined her head and said in a low, reverent voice: "Master."

Luke's heart gave a triumphant leap. Even the goddess of death now stood under his command. And though she was no puppet, still very much Hela, with her ambitions and fury intact, her loyalty to him was sealed.

"Good!" Luke said with a grin, his tone carrying genuine satisfaction.

Closing his eyes briefly, he summoned another ripple of space beside them, letting its power hum in the air. The distortion shimmered like water, promising a pathway to Asgard.

At the sight, Hela's eyes lit with renewed excitement. She knew where this ripple could lead. At last, Asgard was within reach again.

She bowed her head slightly. "Thank you, Master." The words, sincere now, startled even her. She found herself oddly content with the arrangement.

But before she could step forward, Luke raised a hand. His voice grew calm and serious. "I can send you there, yes. But you have to know this, it will not be safe. Ragnarök is close, the fire giant Surtur will rise, and with the Eternal Flame, he will reclaim his full form. When that happens, he will burn Asgard to the ground."

Hela froze. A chill coursed through her. She had heard whispers, legends of Ragnarök, the end of Asgard. But she had dismissed them. To her, they were myths, a propaganda at most.

Her jaw tightened, voice sharp. "Master, as long as I return, Ragnarök will not come to pass. Asgard will kneel before its rightful queen."

Her words dripped with confidence, her arrogance untouched. Surtur, in her eyes, was nothing but a relic.

But Luke, knowing the truth of the Marvel plot, only smiled faintly. "Don't underestimate him. Once his crown touches the Eternal Flame, Surtur will be reborn in full power. Taller than mountains, fueled by fire older than the Nine Realms. Even if you could stand against him, he could still shatter Asgard itself. And when Asgard falls, so too will your strength."

Hela's eyes narrowed, the first flicker of unease crossing her face. If anyone else had spoken such words, she would have cut them down without hesitation. But Luke's calm certainty and the system's unseen influence forced her to weigh them carefully.

Her voice dropped, turning colder and quieter. "Then what should I do, Master?"

The title came more naturally this time. She almost surprised herself with it.

Luke's smile deepened. He lifted a hand, the sea breeze ruffling his hair, his eyes gleaming with mischief and certainty.

"I have a good way."

…