Marvel: AS A PRINCE IN ASGARD

At the heart of the dying star Nidavellir, the last of the Dwarves toiled under duress. The forge was alight, its great furnaces roaring as molten Uru flowed like rivers of gold. Towering over them, his obsidian armor gleaming under the firelight, stood Thanos, the Mad Titan. The Black Order flanked him, their silent menace filling the forge as Eitri, the dwarven king, struggled against his bonds.

The Titan's voice was cold, devoid of mercy.

"You will forge the Infinity Gauntlet," he commanded. "Or your people die."

Desperate, Eitri called out for help. His booming voice echoed through the vast halls of Nidavellir, reaching out for the only force that could rival Thanos' might—Asgard. But the plea was met with silence. The Bifrost was shattered, destroyed in the war against Hela. Asgard no longer had the power to reach beyond the Nine Realms in an instant.

Odin, weary and aged, knew he could muster the Dark Energy once more to send Thor alone. But what was one son of Asgard against Thanos and his warships? It would be a slaughter.

Nidavellir had been abandoned.

In that moment of despair, Eitri recalled a different name—Ragna. The ruler of the Holy Heavenly Palace, a being shrouded in divine power, had left them with a promise: Call upon me, and I shall answer.

Eitri's voice cracked as he whispered into the void, "Lord Ragna… hear me."

Back on Midgard, chaos reigned.

Loki stood atop his floating Chitauri chariot, reveling in the madness of New York. The people screamed as Leviathans tore through skyscrapers. Fires raged. The Avengers were battered and bloodied, struggling against an invasion force that seemed without end.

Then, Ragna spoke.

"It's over."

A ripple spread through the air—and the sky itself split open.

A golden radiance flooded the battlefield, and from the heavens, an army descended. Not the Chitauri. Not the Kree. Not the Skrulls.

The Angel Legion had arrived.

Chitauri soldiers hesitated, their hive-mind flickering with fear. Even their Commanders on the mothership gasped.

"The Angel Legion?" one choked.

"How is this possible?" another stammered.

"This planet should not have their protection!"

"Retreat! Now!" the Commander bellowed. "Take the Aesir and retreat immediately!"

But Loki hesitated.

He had seen the Angels before—Ragna's divine warriors. Could they have come to support him, aiding his conquest of Midgard?

That fleeting hope was shattered like glass.

The Angels struck—moving faster than the eye could follow. Their Flaming Swords carved through Leviathans like paper, their radiant wings leaving trails of divine fire in the sky. Chitauri pilots barely had time to scream before they were cut to pieces. Their bodies rained down upon New York like a storm of ash and blood.

Loki's own chariot pilot lost his head in an instant. The Angel's blade had missed him by mere inches.

Loki's smirk faltered. His confidence twisted into dread.

Then came the strike—a single blow from a High-Ranking Angel. Loki crashed into the streets below, forming a crater in the pavement. His armor cracked. His pride shattered.

The Chitauri fleet scrambled. The mothership desperately tried to flee through the wormhole, but Sacred Keisha, the mightiest of Ragna's Angels, raised her sword.

She swung.

A crescent of golden energy sliced through the void—and the mothership was torn asunder. The explosion consumed the sky, and as the blast wave faded, the wormhole began to collapse.

The invasion of Earth had ended.

But humanity had always been its own worst enemy.

A streak of metal cut across the horizon. A missile. A nuclear warhead, launched by SHIELD's secret contingency protocol. The very same humans that had prayed for salvation were now prepared to reduce New York to dust.

"Iron Man, status?!" Nick Fury shouted.

Tony Stark hovered in the air, sensors locked onto the missile. His voice was grim. "I can divert it into space, but I won't be coming back."

Before he could act, a High-Ranking Angel shot past him. Wings flared. Divine energy crackled. The Angel seized the missile with both hands, twisting it midair. With an almighty flap, he soared into the void.

His eyes met the civilians below.

His face softened. He smiled.

And then—a burst of light.

The nuclear explosion never came.

The city fell into silence. The Angels, victorious, began their ascent back into the heavens. But their formation was missing one.

The humans below—who had once cursed the new Lord—began to pray.

They sang hymns. They wept.

Ragna watched from the shadows. He smirked. "That Angel really knows how to put on a show."

Meanwhile, Loki stirred.

Blood dripped from his lips. His body ached. He was surrounded.

Iron Man, Black Widow, Captain America, and Hulk stood over him, their weapons ready.

But still, Loki sneered. He forced himself to his feet, straightened his tattered armor, and grinned.

"I am a god!" he spat. "You mortals have no right to judge me!"

Hulk tilted his head.

Then, without warning, he grabbed Loki by the leg—and smashed him into the pavement.

Over. And over. And over.

When Hulk finally stopped, Loki lay in a heap, eyes spinning, mouth slightly open.

"What a puny god," Hulk muttered.

Black Widow leveled a pistol at Loki's head. "For Hawkeye," she growled, and pulled the trigger.

Clink.

The bullet flattened against Loki's forehead, barely leaving a scratch.

Loki blinked. Then smirked.

"You can't kill me."

Nick Fury's earpiece crackled. A directive from above.

"Take him alive."

Fury narrowed his eye. He didn't like it, but orders were orders. "You're coming with us," he said coldly.

Loki laughed, coughing up blood. "You fools," he rasped. "My brother is your new master. Those Angels—his subordinates. I am untouchable."

Fury scoffed. "If your brother's so powerful, why'd his Angels beat the crap out of you?"

Loki's smirk vanished.

Desperate, he called to the heavens. "Brother! I know you're watching! Help me!"

Silence.

Fury folded his arms. "Guess he doesn't care."

Then, just as Fury turned away—a new voice echoed through the air.

"Time is short."

A ripple of golden light. A presence beyond mortal understanding.

Ragna appeared before them, bathed in divine radiance.

His golden eyes gleamed as he gazed at Fury and the Avengers.

"He is my brother," Ragna said smoothly. "Shall I take him now?"

The Avengers tensed.

Fury exhaled sharply.

"…We're gonna have a problem, aren't we?"

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