The scream wasn't just sound. It was a force—a pressure wave that rattled the lab's reinforced glass and sent coffee mugs skittering across workbenches like startled mice. Victor's ears popped. His vision blurred for a heartbeat, and when it cleared, Hela was there. Not on the street. Not in the rift. Right outside the window, hovering thirty stories up, her black cape billowing in a wind that didn't exist.
Her smile was all teeth and no mercy.
Tony's repulsors whined to life. "FRIDAY, lockdown. Now."
The lab sealed with a hiss—blast doors slamming, force fields shimmering into existence. Bruce's face went pale. "That's… not possible. She's—"
"Dead," Tony finished. "Or supposed to be. Kid, whatever you did out there? You just rang the dinner bell."
Victor's mouth went dry. Hela's eyes—glowing emerald, ancient as stars—locked on him through the glass. She tilted her head, like a cat spotting a laser dot. Then she waved. A casual flick of her fingers, as if saying hi, neighbor.
AETHER's voice was uncharacteristically quiet. "Well. Shit. That's Hela. Goddess of Death. Asgardian royalty. Zero chill. And she's looking at you like you're the last slice of pizza."
Victor swallowed. "I thought you said I could handle anyone with you."
"I said eventually. Not on day one. Run?"
The window exploded inward.
Glass shards hung in the air, frozen mid-shatter, caught in Hela's necromantic grip. She stepped through the breach like she owned the place, boots clicking on the floor. Her armor shifted—liquid night solidifying into blades along her forearms. The temperature dropped twenty degrees. Victor's breath fogged.
Tony fired.
Twin repulsor blasts slammed into Hela's chest. She didn't flinch. The energy absorbed into her armor, swirling like ink in water. She sighed, bored. "Stark. Still compensating."
Steve's shield flew from nowhere, ricocheting off her shoulder. Hela caught it mid-bounce, crushed it like tinfoil, and tossed it aside. "Rogers. Predictable."
Natasha's Widow's Bites crackled. Peter webbed the ceiling, ready to swing. Bruce's eyes flashed green.
Victor backed up until his spine hit a workbench. "Okay. New plan. Definitely running."
Hela's gaze snapped to him. "You. The fragment-touched. You smell like chaos." She inhaled, nostrils flaring. "Delicious."
AETHER materialized beside Victor, visible to everyone this time—glitchy, urgent. "Protocol: Don't Die. Sub-protocol: Don't Let Her Touch You. She'll unravel your soul like a sweater."
Tony stepped between them, armor reassembling around him in a blur of nanites. "Lady, you picked the wrong tower."
Hela laughed. The sound was winter in a graveyard. "I picked the right one. The boy comes with me."
Victor's heart jackhammered. "Hard pass."
The lab erupted.
Peter swung in, webbing Hela's arms. She sliced the strands with a blade that hadn't been there a second ago. Natasha flipped over a table, firing electrified batons. Steve charged, fists glowing with… something. Victor didn't have time to question it. Bruce roared, skin splitting as Hulk burst free.
Hela smiled wider.
Victor's hands glowed without him meaning to. AETHER's interface flared: FRAGMENT OVERLOAD. PROXIMITY ALERT. EVACUATE.
He didn't think. He acted.
Energy surged from his palms—not the controlled burst from earlier, but a torrent. Blue-white light slammed into Hela, wrapping around her like chains. She snarled, digging heels into the floor. The chains held.
For three seconds.
Then she shattered them.
Shards of energy exploded outward, carving grooves in the walls. Victor flew backward, crashing through a hologram table. Pain bloomed across his ribs. Hela advanced, blades extending.
Tony tackled her mid-stride. They crashed through a wall into the next room—sparks, concrete dust, the smell of scorched metal. Hulk roared, smashing. Peter webbed. Natasha vanished into shadows.
Victor scrambled to his feet. "AETHER! Do something!"
"Working on it! Multiverse fragments don't grow on trees, you know!"
Hela flung Tony aside like a ragdoll. He hit the far wall, armor dented. She turned back to Victor. "Enough games."
She blinked out of existence.
Reappeared behind him.
Her hand closed around his throat. Cold. So cold it burned. Victor's vision tunneled. He felt his life force draining—memories flickering: his mom's laugh, the smell of rain on pavement, the bullet—
Then light.
AETHER's voice boomed, not in his head but out loud. "NOT TODAY, BITCH."
Victor's body ignited. Not metaphorically. Literal blue fire. Hela hissed, releasing him. The flames weren't hot—they were wrong. Reality warped around them, bending like heat haze. Hela's armor cracked.
She stepped back. Actually stepped back.
Victor gasped, collapsing to his knees. The fire died. His hands shook. "What… the hell… was that?"
"Emergency override," AETHER said, voice strained. "Borrowed a fragment. You owe me. Big time."
Hela's eyes narrowed. "Interesting. You're more than you seem."
Tony groaned, pushing to his feet. "Yeah, join the club."
Alarms blared. The rift outside pulsed—bigger now, spitting shadows. Hela glanced at it, then back at Victor. "This isn't over, little chaos-bringer. We'll speak again."
She dissolved into black mist, vanishing through the broken window.
Silence.
Then Peter: "Did… did we just fight the Goddess of Death? In Tony's lab?"
Tony stared at the crater where his wall used to be. "I hate my life."
Hours later, the lab was a war zone. Repair bots whirred, patching holes. The Avengers sat in a loose circle—bruised, bleeding, alive. Victor's ribs ached with every breath. AETHER's interface flickered weakly: BATTERY: 12%. DO NOT ENGAGE GODDESSES.
Tony tossed him a Stark Industries hoodie. "Put this on. Your old one's got a hole in it. And blood. Lots of blood."
Victor caught it. The fabric was soft. Expensive. "Thanks."
"Don't thank me. Thank the kid who didn't die." Tony's voice was rough. "You held your own. Barely. But you did."
Steve nodded. "You've got guts, kid. Stupid guts, but guts."
Natasha cleaned a knife, not looking up. "Next time, don't taunt the immortal death goddess."
Peter swung down from the ceiling. "Also, MJ says hi. And that you're an idiot."
Victor laughed. It hurt. "Noted."
Bruce—human again, shirt miraculously intact—studied Victor's glowing hands. "That energy… it's not gamma. Not tech. It's… something else."
"Multiversal," AETHER supplied, hologram flickering. "And running on fumes. Need recharge. Preferably not via soul-sucking."
Tony rubbed his temples. "Great. So we've got a kid who can fight gods, a pissed-off death goddess, and a multiverse that's apparently speed-dialing every bad guy in existence."
Victor leaned back, staring at the ceiling. "So… tomorrow?"
Peter grinned. "Tomorrow, we train. And maybe get shawarma."
AETHER whispered, just for Victor: "Tomorrow, we prank Tony. Start small. Salt in his coffee?"
Victor smiled despite himself. "Deal."
Outside, the city lights flickered back on—one by one. But in the distance, the rift pulsed. Watching. Waiting.
And somewhere in the shadows, Hela smiled.