Marvel Disassembler

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"Is it raining?" 

Arthur walked to the door - although technically there was no door. As the howling rain poured down, it drenched him from head to toe. 

Not taking it too seriously, he wiped his face and prepared to enjoy the rare sight of rain in Hell. But something felt wrong. 

Where the rain touched his skin, there was a disconcerting tingling, almost itchy sensation. 

Looking down at his hand, he saw that it was stained crimson. 

It was rain - but blood-red rain! 

And more than that, it was corrosive. While Arthur's body could easily withstand it, the itchy discomfort still bothered him. 

"Blood rain?" 

Lifting his eyes to the outside world, Arthur watched the rain cascade down. It was like red threads connecting the dark sky to the dark earth, giving off an intense aura of foreboding. 

In addition, faint wailing sounds echoed from somewhere. 

Curious, Arthur fortified his body with an extra layer of toughness and stepped out into the rain. 

Under the dark sky and the crimson rain, the land turned a deep, ominous red. The grotesque trees around him seemed to come to life, their branches stretching and twisting like a horde of demons dancing in a macabre frenzy. 

That eerie sound? It was coming from those trees, their low-hanging, vine-like branches swaying as if in mourning. 

"Are those... 'Swinging Head Trees'?" Arthur murmured, giving them a casual nickname. 

The trees hung their tops like bowed heads, their thin, elongated branches dragging along the ground. Now, in the rain, they raised their "heads," their dangling branches whipping through the air in chaotic, almost dance-like movements, as if they were the stars of a grotesque nightclub. 

Arthur chuckled at the sight. He turned to leave, but a branch from the nearest tree suddenly lunged at his neck. 

Hearing the faint whoosh of the attack, Arthur dodged with a quick movement. The branch missed and swung back, the tree returning to its rhythmic "dance" as if nothing had happened. 

"They're hostile now?" 

Arthur frowned. There was something unusual about this. 

And as the rain grew heavier, the frenzied movements of the trees intensified. 

Testing their strength, Arthur realized that the trees weren't particularly powerful. However, the sheer number of lashing branches made them a nuisance, tangling together and creating an annoying mess. 

While they posed little threat to him, the situation made Arthur pause. He thought of Hela. 

"She had her powers sealed. Can she really handle it in this kind of environment?" 

Arthur looked up at the void above, then bit his lip. "If there's a problem, it's Odin's fault... What does that have to do with me? He's the one who forced me into this ridiculous matchmaking. Besides, sealing her powers? That's on him, not me. I couldn't do that if I tried!" 

Feeling that he had justified himself well enough, Arthur turned to leave. 

But halfway through his flight, he stopped. "Wait... If I don't help her, that old man will definitely come after me! No matter what problems they have as father and daughter, she's still his flesh and blood. He didn't drag me here just to watch her die, did he? And if I tell Thor about this later, the three of them will team up against me. I can't handle that! Besides... saving her doesn't mean I have to marry her, does it?" 

With that logic, Arthur turned to look for Hela. 

After flying for a while, another thought struck him. "Damn... this feels like a trap! If I go, that old man will definitely twist it and say I have feelings for his daughter. Otherwise, why would I bother to save her in the middle of this blood rain?" 

Still, Arthur didn't stop. 

Trap or no trap, he really had no romantic interest in Hela. 

Odin would eventually realize that all his meddling was pointless. 

After all, you can't force love - it just wouldn't work. 

Arthur pressed on, determined. Part of him didn't want to appear indecisive and wishy-washy. Another part of him couldn't stand the idea of leaving a powerless woman in such a hostile environment. 

Once the decision was made, he acted without hesitation. 

--- 

In retrospect, Arthur's decision proved to be the right one. 

The rain intensifies

The rain poured down relentlessly, carving deep channels in the ground. The crimson streams intertwined, making the earth resemble the bleeding flesh of a giant, oozing blood with reckless abandon. 

When Arthur finally found Hela, she was hanging limply from the branches of a tree, her eyes closed tightly, teetering on the brink of death. 

Without wasting a moment, Arthur rushed forward. With a powerful swing of the Asgardian greatsword in his hand, he sliced through the branches. They fell away, spurting blood-red liquid from their severed ends, causing the entire tree to tremble in pain. 

Before Hela could hit the ground, Arthur caught her in his arms. Unfolding his wings, he soared into the air. A quick glance confirmed that she had no visible injuries. 

The rain of blood, though deadly, seemed incapable of harming her. After all, Hela's physical resilience far exceeded Arthur's. The caustic rain hadn't even left a scratch on her. 

"This is just... ridiculous," Arthur muttered, rolling his eyes. 

He pinched the pressure point under her nose, hoping to wake her, but to no avail. 

She remained unconscious, seemingly in a deep sleep, but with an underlying fragility. 

"Did she catch a cold? That should be impossible, right? With a body tough enough to withstand this rain, how could she catch a cold?" 

Regardless, this was no place to linger. 

Arthur flapped his wings, cutting through the rain, and headed back to his little home. 

The ground around his home had turned into a river of blood. Fortunately, when Arthur had built the base, he had raised it several layers above the ground. Otherwise, the entire structure would have been submerged. 

He landed and stepped into the shelter, but as he turned he caught a glimpse of a face in the rain - a pale, ghostly visage that vanished as quickly as it had appeared. 

"What the hell was that?" 

Arthur frowned, feeling uneasy. The eeriness of this place had far exceeded his expectations. 

"A ghost. A minor demon." 

Hela's voice suddenly broke the silence, startling Arthur so much that he almost dropped her. 

Fortunately, she clung to his arm. When Arthur recovered, she glared at him and warned, "If you dare throw me out, I'll kill you!" 

"Would it kill you to give me a little warning before you wake up? You almost scared me to death." 

Arthur set her down gently and looked up at the roof. Even here, blood rain seeped through the cracks, dripping steadily. 

The entire house looked as if it had been soaked in fresh blood. The constant dripping, accompanied by the dark, crimson sheen on every surface, gave the place an unsettling, horror-movie atmosphere. 

Both Arthur and Hela were drenched, their bodies seemingly covered in blood. The entire shelter and the land beyond were enveloped in this macabre scene. 

"What a dreary setting," Hela remarked, surveying her surroundings with a cold sneer. "To spend so much effort on such meaningless theatrics - that must be another of humanity's inherent flaws." 

Arthur's mouth twitched at her words. "If humanity has one inherent flaw, it's being too kind. We can't bear to see a helpless woman dangling from a tree. 

"And after we rescue her, we end up like the kind-hearted farmer in the old fable. Ah, what can we do? Our faults run deep. We're just incapable of learning our lesson." 

'(End of Chapter)'