Hela Odinsdottir || 06

The Watcher watched silently. Strange regarded her with respect and distrust. Everyone knew what she was capable of. But no one knew who she had lost. And then, amid the tide of energy, a presence burst forth. A figure Hela recognized instantly, a silhouette wrapped in light, walking among the fragments of broken universes, its eyes fixed on her. For an instant, the goddess hesitated; the air grew heavy, as if time itself held its breath. Hela's voice was low, barely a sigh. "No... it can't be." The spear vanished between her fingers. Her eyes, cold and proud, opened with a flash of disbelief. There you were—the woman who had once defied death with a smile. The one who loved her when no one else could. Hela taking a step forward, her voice cracking between fury and desire —Tell me you're not just another echo of the multiverse... Tell me you're not an illusion created to torment me... The wind carried the roar of falling worlds; war awaited. But for the first time, Hela wasn't thinking about the battle; her gaze was fixed on you, on what was once her reason for not destroying everything. —After all this time... are you still alive? —Or have you come to kill the memory of you once more?