Hang descended from the sky, his feet slamming into the lawn hard enough to leave a shallow crater.
He rolled his shoulders. The power of twelve laws still surged within him. The Timeline Erasure Cannon he had just devoured was slowly being dismantled, converted, and absorbed by his Concept of Greed.
It felt good.
Thor walked over with Stormbreaker in hand, the glow of the six Infinity Stones already subdued. The way he looked at Hang still carried disbelief.
"You just… ate that attack?"
"More or less." Hang nodded.
"My concept is Greed. Any attack directed at me becomes nourishment, so long as it doesn't exceed my limits." Hang smirked faintly. "The Council of Kangs gave me quite a generous gift. I should thank them."
Thor opened his mouth as if to say something, but in the end, he merely shook his head.
Wanda flew over from the distance, crimson energy still coiling around her fingertips. She landed beside Hang and carefully looked him over. Only after confirming he was unharmed did she let out a breath of relief.
"You scared me to death."
"Relax. I'm not dying anytime soon." Hang reached out and ruffled her hair. "Besides, I got stronger."
The Eye of Agamotto on Strange's forehead slowly closed, golden patterns flowing beneath his skin. He approached with a grave expression.
"I could feel it. Your law fluctuations are at least thirty percent stronger than before."
"Well, I had a good meal." Hang shrugged.
Tony's armor landed nearby. The faceplate opened, revealing a complicated expression.
"So what are you now? Some kind of energy recycling station? Hitting you is basically charging your batteries?"
"You could put it that way."
Tony fell silent for a few seconds before turning toward the remains of the Kangs.
"I need to analyze this stuff. That Kang said they were collecting data. I need to know exactly what they learned."
Strange followed after him.
"I'll help. Their energy circuits are strange—almost like they're imitating magical structures."
The two crouched beside one of the Kang corpses and began studying the purple armor.
Hang didn't join them.
He stood still, sweeping his gaze across the battlefield. Craters and scorch marks covered the ground. Several distant buildings had collapsed halfway.
The Avengers Facility's main structure was still standing, but cracks covered its outer walls.
This had only been the vanguard.
In three days, the real army would arrive.
Hang frowned.
Then suddenly, his forehead burned.
It was the law mark he had left within Hela's mind. Back when he subdued the Goddess of Death, he had implanted a seal formed from five laws deep within her consciousness. It was both a shackle and a communication channel.
In all these years, the mark had never once activated on its own.
Hela was far too proud. She would rather die than ask anyone for help.
But now—the mark was burning.
Hang closed his eyes, extending his consciousness through the imprint, crossing endless stars until it connected with Asgard.
He saw Hela.
The once-proud Goddess of Death was kneeling on one knee atop the Rainbow Bridge.
Her black hair was disheveled, and her face was deathly pale. Her left arm was gone from the shoulder down. There was no blood at the severed edge—only black veins spreading outward.
Behind her, all of Asgard was engulfed in a strange darkness.
It wasn't ordinary darkness, but a shadow that devoured light itself, slowly consuming the divine realm.
Hela's voice echoed in his mind, filled with suppressed fury and faint weakness.
"Hang… a madman has invaded."
"What kind of madman could reduce you to this state?"
"He calls himself the God Butcher." Hela's voice carried grinding hatred. "A pale monster wielding a black sword. That sword… it can suppress my Death Laws."
Something stirred in Hang's mind.
Gorr the God Butcher.
All-Black the Necrosword.
He remembered.
The blade was forged by Knull, the God of the Symbiotes—a weapon designed specifically to slaughter gods.
In the original storyline, Gorr used it to massacre gods across the universe. Even Zeus had nearly fallen to him.
"Where is he now?"
"In the palace." Hela's voice weakened further. "He says he'll kill every god. Asgard is only the beginning… I can't stop him. That sword is too strange. It's feeding on Asgard's shadows and growing stronger."
Hang opened his eyes.
Thor was already beside him, his face grim.
"What happened?"
"Asgard's under attack. Someone named Gorr broke in. Hela's been seriously injured."
Thor's expression changed instantly.
He knew how powerful Hela was. He had witnessed Hang subdue her with his own eyes. Her Death Laws had been nearly impossible to counter, and all of Asgard served as her source of power.
Anyone capable of gravely injuring Hela was no ordinary enemy.
"I'm coming with you." Thor tightened his grip on Stormbreaker, the six Infinity Stones beginning to glow once more.
Hang nodded and turned toward Tony and Strange, who were still studying the wreckage.
"Tony, put the Kang issue aside for now. When they return in three days, I'll handle it."
Tony looked up, wanting to say something, but swallowed the words when he saw Hang's expression.
"Trouble in Asgard?"
"The kind of trouble that can cripple Hela."
Tony went silent for a second before nodding.
"Go. I'll keep watch here."
Hang raised his right hand. The Law of Space activated, tearing open a golden rift before him. On the other side lay Asgard's sky, consumed by darkness.
He stepped through.
Thor followed immediately behind, lightning already gathering around Stormbreaker.
The rift sealed shut behind them.
…
The skies of Asgard were gray.
Not the gray of storm clouds, but the lifeless gray left behind after light itself had been devoured.
Hang and Thor emerged from the spatial fissure onto the shattered remains of the Rainbow Bridge.
The once-radiant bridge of light was now riddled with cracks.
Its surface was covered by a strange black substance, like living mold slowly spreading.
"What the hell is this?" Thor's voice carried restrained fury.
Hang crouched and touched the black substance.
Cold.
Not physical cold, but a chill that seeped into the conceptual level itself.
This thing was devouring everything—light, heat, life, even existence itself.
A name surfaced in his mind once more.
Knull. God of the Symbiotes. Creator of darkness.
If the sword in Gorr's hand truly came from Knull, then things had just become very interesting.
"Where's Hela?" Thor asked, Stormbreaker glowing with the six Infinity Stones.
Hang closed his eyes, tracing the law imprint once more.
Close.
Near the palace.
"Follow me."
The two transformed into streaks of light and shot toward the royal palace.
Along the way, Hang saw even more devastation. Nearly a third of Asgard's once-glorious structures were consumed by that black shadow.
Where the darkness passed, golden domes turned to ash, exquisite statues vanished into nothingness.
Not destroyed.
Erased.
As though they had never existed at all.
"He's feeding on Asgard's power," Hang said grimly. "That sword is devouring the entire realm."
Fury flashed through Thor's eyes.
He had once witnessed Hang subdue Hela and rebuild Asgard with overwhelming power.
And now, someone was tearing all of it apart.
The palace gates stood open.
Several Asgardian guards lay dead at the entrance.
Strangely, none of them had visible wounds. Their faces were twisted in terror, as if they had witnessed something horrifying before death.
"Their souls were extracted." Hang glanced at them. "That sword doesn't just kill—it harvests souls."
Thor's breathing grew heavier.
The two entered the palace.
The grand hall was in ruins. The once magnificent throne had shattered into pieces. And standing before the wreckage was a single figure.
A man so pale he was nearly translucent.
He wore a tattered black cloak, barefoot, his entire body radiating sickly weakness.
But the sword in his hand caused Hang's eyes to narrow.
Pitch-black, utterly without shine, yet constantly swallowing the surrounding light.
Strange patterns writhed across the blade like living organisms.
All-Black the Necrosword.
Knull's creation. A weapon forged for the slaughter of gods.
The man turned around, revealing a scar-covered face.
His eyes were gray and utterly devoid of emotion.
Only endless hatred remained.
"Two more gods," he rasped, his voice low and hoarse, as though he hadn't spoken in ages. "Good. I happen to need more sacrifices."
He raised the Necrosword, pointing it toward Hang and Thor.
"I am Gorr… the God Butcher."
"All gods deserve to die."
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