Marvel: AS A PRINCE IN ASGARD

Ragna still exerted full control over the Thousand Stars Strike, though its power had waned. Even at reduced intensity, it remained a devastating force, one that could obliterate Nidavellir entirely if it spiraled out of control.

Hela's Legion of Angels advanced, led by the holy warrior Keisha, her Psionic Scepter raised high. She waited for the attack radius to diminish to a safe range before making her move to strike Thanos down.

Everything seemed to be going according to plan.

But then, behind Thanos, struggling against the overwhelming energy, Corvus Glaive suddenly surged forward, launching himself over his master.

Dropping to one knee, he gripped his Glaive of Death in both hands and braced himself against the sheer force of the Thousand Stars Strike. Though the attack had weakened, it was still beyond what a mere mortal could endure.

Instantly, his flesh and muscle began to disintegrate, vaporized by the sheer heat. Yet, even as his body turned to ash, Corvus Glaive refused to relinquish his weapon. His skeletal hands held firm, pressing the blade to the ground in defiance of the cosmic storm consuming him.

The blackened glaive began to melt, drops of molten metal hissing as they fell, mixing with the fading remnants of his very soul.

Yet, Corvus Glaive was not alone in his sacrifice.

Ebony Maw and Black Dwarf sprang into action.

Ebony Maw, ever the strategist, pushed his telekinesis beyond its limits, warping space itself. His body began to blacken as the energy backlash scorched his flesh, but he persisted. Unlike Doctor Strange, who wielded the Eye of Agamotto to slice open space at will, Ebony Maw had no such relic. He could only rely on raw power and sheer will.

His mind screamed in agony. His body, now charred, was breaking apart. Blood poured from his eyes, nose, and mouth, but still, he persisted.

He had no sense of sight, no ability to feel, no tether to reality—only pain. And yet, the twisted portal he created remained intact.

Black Dwarf, the last of the Black Order still standing, seized Thanos' seared arm and shoved him toward the rift.

He knew what this meant.

They were all going to die.

But Thanos could not be allowed to fall here. The balance of the universe depended on his survival.

Proxima Midnight had died with this same conviction, and now, her comrades carried out her will.

As Ragna 's Legion of Angels remained unscathed, and Thanos stood bloodied but alive, Black Dwarf accepted their fate.

The plan had been decided. The Mad Titan must escape.

Holy Keisha, seeing what was happening, acted swiftly. She summoned the full might of the Mind Stone, defying the onslaught of the Thousand Stars Strike.

Her pristine white wings darkened, burning under the attack's relentless intensity. Feathers crumbled to ash. The searing pain was unbearable, but Keisha pressed on.

With the Psionic Scepter, she aimed for Thanos' exposed throat.

Corvus Glaive, barely conscious, could do nothing.

Ebony Maw was already a walking corpse.

But Black Dwarf, still standing, roared in fury.

As Keisha swung the scepter down, Black Dwarf threw his entire weight against her, ramming her with full force.

The attack missed Thanos' neck by mere inches, slicing through his face instead. Blood splattered across the battlefield. His right eye was severed, a deep wound scarring his cheek.

The impact sent both Keisha and Black Dwarf spiraling out of the safe zone.

The Thousand Stars Strike did not discriminate.

Black Dwarf's immense body instantly ignited, his flesh and armor crumbling into nothingness within seconds.

Keisha, barely clinging to life, tried to push forward again.

She had one more chance.

But it was too late.

With a final agonized expression, Thanos vanished into the distorted portal, his pain mixing with shock at the lengths to which his followers had gone.

Keisha, her body blackened and burnt, knew the battle was lost. She let out a slow breath and drifted back toward Ragna .

With the Mind Stone's energy, she replenished her strength, her burnt wings slowly regenerating. The holy warrior had survived, but at great cost.

Ebony Maw, his corpse standing in a petrified state, finally collapsed into ashes.

His mission was complete.

Corvus Glaive remained in his kneeling posture, hands gripping the remains of his melted glaive. The Thousand Stars Strike's energy dwindled until only a few final sparks danced across the battlefield.

Ragna , sensing the shift, tightened his grip, shattering the last remnants of the attack.

The star core of Nidavellir, which had forged weapons for gods, cracked and disintegrated. The forge had collapsed.

Dwarf King Eitri fell to his knees, his face contorted with despair.

Meanwhile, Corvus Glaive's skeletal remains twitched. Regeneration had begun.

But something was wrong.

His flesh grew back erratically, a mass of formless meat, pulsing grotesquely without a clear shape.

The Glaive of Death—his anchor to immortality—was no more.

His soul was shattered. Corvus Glaive was dead.

Ragna approached. He looked down at the broken remains of the once-feared warrior.

Then, with a final crushing stomp, he ended it.

The regenerating flesh shriveled into dust. There would be no return.

Thanos' Black Order had perished, but their final act had succeeded.

For the first time, Ragna questioned his own convictions.

If not for the Infinity Stones, if not for their irreconcilable ideologies, could he and Thanos have been allies instead of enemies?

Perhaps, in another time, another universe, they might have even been friends.

But in this reality, only power and ideology dictated the fate of civilizations.

There was no right or wrong. Only survival.

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