Marvel: AS A PRINCE IN ASGARD

Hank Pym was no better than Tony Stark. Both were geniuses, but both were bound by their own limitations. Pym's aging body had slowed his potential, while Stark's arrogance clouded his vision. The Pym Particle—arguably more revolutionary than the Arc Reactor—was not impossible to replicate. In fact, some of Pym's former assistants, such as Bill Foster and Scott Lang, had already demonstrated the ability to reproduce it. What mattered was the exact formula, the key to manipulating mass and density on a quantum level.

Ragna, ever the opportunist, recognized the value of acquiring one of the greatest minds in the universe. The first rule was simple: tempt them. Provide them with something they desperately need. But Hank Pym was stubborn, more so as he aged. His refusal to let Pym Particles be weaponized had driven him into exile for decades, a self-imposed retreat from the world of science and war. That changed when Ragna took Pym and his daughter, Hope van Dyne, to space.

The moment they gazed at the sun, their perspective shifted.

With his resources, Ragna provided Pym with a state-of-the-art lab, one rivaling even the Baxter Building or Wakandan research facilities. The promise was simple: help Ragna open a stable quantum channel, and in return, he would gain the means to rescue Janet van Dyne from the Quantum Realm. Everything proceeded smoothly—until Ragna attempted to shrink Vibranium.

The accident was inevitable. The distance between atoms was not infinite; compressing matter beyond its limit led to an exponential increase in electromagnetic forces. This was a fundamental law of the universe, one that could not be circumvented even by science as advanced as Pym's. Either an object could not be miniaturized further, or it would shrink beyond recovery.

However, Ragna wasn't concerned with limitations. The molecular structure of Vibranium, its unique energy-absorbing properties, meant that even with a shrinkage ratio of 327:1, it remained stable enough for his needs. Other metals in the universe weren't nearly as valuable. Vibranium, however, reached a threshold—after nearly a hundred compressions, it became permanently locked at a quantum state, unable to revert.

Undeterred, Ragna carried the compressed Vibranium with him to Nidavellir. The dwarves, the master craftsmen of the Nine Realms, marveled at the impossibility of the metal's new state. While they obsessed over how to forge it, Ragna left them to their work. He believed in letting professionals handle their craft.

Returning to Earth, he resumed his search for angels and demons. Mephisto, the Hell Lords, and the Ghost Riders—all those who harvested souls for their own gain—had unknowingly become his next targets. The Earth had changed hands, and with that, so had its laws. Every belief system, every soul, was now part of Ragna's dominion. They would not be claimed by deities from other dimensions.

The Ancient One's agreement with Odin and other higher beings had established that neither Heaven nor Hell could interfere with Earth directly. Yet, angels and demons found loopholes—possessing humans, manipulating faith, subtly influencing the balance of power. Ragna had a simple solution: if he found one, he would eradicate it.

What about the inevitable retaliation from Heaven and Hell?

Let them try.

The barriers erected by the Sorcerer Supreme across generations were formidable, preventing large-scale dimensional incursions. But lone demons and rogue angels could still slip through. After crushing yet another demon-infested human in Los Angeles, Ragna sensed something unusual—a presence unlike the others.

John Constantine.

A man cursed with the ability to see angels and demons, an exorcist feared by both. His soul was unique, so rare that both Heaven and Hell coveted it. According to the ancient rules, such a soul was destined for Hell, and its rarity meant that Satan himself would come to collect it.

Ragna wasn't particularly interested in human mysticism, but one thing was certain—he would not allow such a valuable soul to be taken from his domain.

More importantly, lurking in the shadows of Los Angeles was an angel of terrifying power. Gabriel.

Ragna recalled the legend:

In his pursuit of greater faith, Gabriel had conspired with Mammon, the son of Satan, to orchestrate his arrival on Earth. Born as a human child, Mammon would be unrestricted by celestial laws, allowing him to bypass the pacts that bound other infernal beings. His birth would open the gates of Hell, transforming Earth into a living nightmare.

During this chaos, Gabriel planned to reveal himself as a divine savior, performing miracles to strengthen his influence over humanity.

A classic strategy: create a crisis, then provide the solution.

For years, such a scheme would have been impossible. The Ancient One's vigilance and the progression of human technology had weakened the influence of divine forces. People believed more in wealth and power than in faith. But times had changed. Odin had grown old, and Ragna had intercepted an event that should have been unstoppable—a meteor meant to be a celestial warning. With Asgard's leader compromised, Gabriel saw an opportunity.

Had the plan failed, Gabriel alone would suffer the consequences. Stripped of his wings, his divinity reduced to nothing.

Ragna followed the angel in secret, carefully manipulating events from the shadows. Destroying faith was simple—one only needed to dismantle its foundations.

And what better way to dismantle faith than a public execution?

From time to time, Ragna intervened, subtly aiding Gabriel's plan to ensure it proceeded uninterrupted. The magic circle was drawn flawlessly, the Spear of Longinus—one of the most powerful sacred artifacts—was procured with ease. Even the Kamar-Taj magicians patrolling the area failed to detect the deception.

Gabriel was confident.

He had no idea that Ragna had already taken precautions. The Sorcerer Supreme was already preparing to clip his wings.

The ceremony began. Gabriel, with his gray-feathered wings spread wide, raised his blade to cut open the belly of a pregnant woman—the human vessel carrying Mammon's soul.

Constantine had a plan.

Sacrifice himself.

By taking his own life, he would force Satan's direct intervention, knowing that Lucifer would not allow Mammon to usurp his throne. This gambit would end the ritual, sending Mammon back to Hell before his birth could be completed.

What Constantine forgot was that this Satan had another name—Lucifer Morningstar.

Once, he too had been an angel.

Ragna didn't wait to see if Lucifer would act. He simply snapped his fingers, knocking Constantine unconscious. Such a valuable soul was best kept in his possession.

More importantly, the gates of Hell had to open.

Without them, how could he locate Hell's coordinates? How could he turn this event into the spectacle it needed to be?

The portal yawned open. Gabriel's dagger gleamed under the apocalyptic sky.

And Ragna broadcast the entire scene to every screen in Los Angeles.

The omens surrounding Mammon's arrival, the distortions in the sky—these were no longer supernatural mysteries. They were a global event. And thanks to Ragna's subtle influence over the media, millions were now watching in real-time.

Paparazzi, ever hungry for sensation, risked everything to capture the footage.

Heaven and Hell had played their games in secrecy for too long.

Tonight, their war would be televised.

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