"You know Hela?!"
Odin's single eye narrowed sharply, his voice laced with disbelief and cold fury as he stared down Joseph. His hand twitched, itching to summon the Eternal Lance.
Even now, Odin struggled to maintain the facade of the mighty King of the Gods. But deep down, he knew—it was just that: a facade. The look in the young magician's eyes shattered his illusion.
That gaze said one thing clearly—
"I know far more than you imagine."
It struck like thunder, not with words, but in silence.
Still, Odin clung to the last sliver of hope.
"Hela. Goddess of Death. Your daughter. Thor's sister."
Joseph's voice cut clean through Odin's delusion, half-mocking, half-teasing. "Once, the most celebrated hero of Asgard who conquered the Nine Realms… now, the very person who wishes to destroy it."
Odin inhaled sharply.
"Are you suggesting," he scoffed bitterly, "that the daughter I cast into the depths of Hel—banished and forgotten—will bring about Ragnarök?"
Joseph didn't respond. He merely looked at the All-Father.
And that silence was more terrifying than any roar of thunder.
The mighty Odin—ruler of Asgard—felt fear creeping into his bones.
The young magician from Midgard had finally revealed his true strength.
"You are old, Odin," Joseph declared, his voice no longer respectful, but filled with solemn pity. "And your so-called successor—well, he may not be strong enough to hold the sky above Asgard, let alone survive Hela's return."
The words hit Odin like a hammer.
His hand moved instinctively. With a burst of divine energy, the Eternal Lance appeared in his grip.
"This is your strength?" Joseph asked, eyeing the spear without a trace of fear.
Odin's single eye flared with divine power. His aura surged like a tsunami, crashing down upon Joseph in an attempt to drown him in sheer pressure.
"You think because I've aged, I'll bend to your conditions? That I'll let you blackmail Asgard without consequence?"
Joseph remained composed under the weight of the divine pressure. "You remind me of a man I once met," he said softly. "One of the Mutant leaders. Magneto."
Odin's brow furrowed.
"Like you, he was powerful, domineering, filled with pride," Joseph continued. "A pride so blind, he thought he controlled everything. A man who thought he was wise… but was, in truth, a fool."
Had Thor been present in this realm of divine space, he would've been speechless.
From the start, it appeared Odin held the upper hand in their conversation. But in truth, Joseph had seized control from the very beginning.
Bit by bit, Odin had been maneuvered like a pawn—until now, when Joseph struck.
"Because of that foolish pride," Joseph said, "you see our offer as a threat. You call it blackmail. But what if I told you… that Ragnarök is inevitable?"
The words hung heavy.
"If Asgard is destined to fall into the river of history, what dignity will you cling to then? What use is pride when your people are gone?"
He stepped forward, unbothered by Odin's divine power.
"If Earth offers you a sanctuary—a chance for Asgard to survive—would that not be a blessing?"
"Even if Ragnarök never comes, the price Asgard pays to form an alliance with Earth is small. It's a sliver of survival. A chance to pass the fire forward."
He leaned in.
"Victory comes from understanding defeat. Isn't that something a wise king should know?"
Joseph's voice was calm, unwavering.
In another timeline, Thor had saved Earth multiple times. Asgardians had earned the goodwill of humanity and were eventually allowed to settle on Earth after Ragnarök, surviving in a small territory.
But this time, Joseph made things clear—there is no charity in this world.
If Asgard wanted sanctuary on Earth, they would have to earn it.
"Whether you admit it or not," Joseph said firmly, "your era has ended. And soon, Asgard's may too."
He raised his hand, as if gesturing to the future.
"The future belongs to the new generation. To the Earth. To the team I represent."
"In this negotiation, you are not the stronger party. Asgard needs Earth. Not the other way around."
"Beg us."
His voice now boomed like thunder.
"The Earth is willing to extend a hand to Asgard, to offer aid in its darkest hour. And you think this is blackmail?!"
"This—this is the wisdom of the God-King?"
"This is how the Lord of the Nine Realms leads?"
"This is what a ruler offers as his final legacy?"
Odin staggered under the weight of Joseph's unrelenting assault—each word a dagger, each sentence a hammerblow.
"Gift?"
"The era of Asgard is ending?"
"The future belongs to Earth?"
Each notion pierced Odin's soul.
His pride screamed in protest.
Who was this young mortal to speak so arrogantly to the King of Asgard?!
Surely, he thought, this was just boldness fueled by the protection of the Ancient One.
His grip on the Eternal Spear tightened. Divine energy surged outward, and his voice roared:
"Earthling! Your confidence is astounding. Even the Ancient One would never dare to claim the future belongs to Earth—"
He didn't get to finish.
Joseph interrupted him, cold and precise:
"The future belongs to Earth—not because of the Ancient One."
He stood tall. The Seventh Ring magician. His cloak billowed. His gaze swept across the realm like a sovereign.
"It belongs to Earth because of the Mutants. To be specific… because of me."
Suddenly—
Buzz!!!
Odin's divine space began to tremble.
His eyes widened in shock.
Starlight—pure, blinding—pierced through the void, slicing space itself. It broke through the divine barriers of this realm like a hot blade through ice.
In an instant, the alien space shattered.
The conference room around them reappeared.
Everyone—Thor, Sif, King Eitri—turned in stunned silence.
Outside, alarms wailed across the city.
At the edge of Bifrost, horns blared warnings.
And in the void beyond…
Starlight. Infinite. Unrelenting.
Asgard, not a planet but a floating continent suspended in space, now found itself encircled by a cosmic radiance like never before.
Stars, once distant and dim, now surged with impossible brightness.
Tens, hundreds, thousands—
Each star's energy condensed and converged, rushing toward Asgard like rivers toward an ocean.
A corona of light surrounded the divine city.
If Asgard were a titan…
Then this starlight was a cosmic noose tightening around its throat.
Odin staggered.
His divine sense screamed danger. He knew without a doubt—if that halo closed, Asgard's outer city would be annihilated.
Only the palace, protected by the Bifrost's barrier, might survive.
He turned back to Joseph.
For the first time in ages, fear clouded the God-King's eye.
"You… you really are a magician…"
His voice trembled.
"A magician not weaker than the Ancient One…"
Joseph only smiled.
A quiet, confident smile that said—
Yes. And more.
Seven Ring Magic—Fairy's Glory.
The brilliance of the stars—shining across the heavens of Asgard.
Odin… will you dare take this attack head-on?
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