(Hela's POV)
After making up my mind, I didn't hesitate for a second—I used telekinesis to crush the so-called 'cosmic cube' into cosmic dust.
Thankfully—or maybe just logically—I wasn't flung into the past, catapulted into the future, or stranded in some pocket dimension like that one ridiculous fanfic where the protagonist ends up in 1939 seduce Carter because of the Tesseract.
No, none of that nonsense.
The cube simply disintegrated into shimmering blue powder, vanishing into the air like a magician's cheap smoke trick. What remained was a single, glowing gem—no doubt about it, the infamous Space Stone.
Honestly, it looked so unassuming. Just a shiny little blue pebble, the kind you might mistake for cheap costume jewelry and throw in a drawer.
And yet, somehow, it held the kind of entire race would sell their souls—and their mothers—for.
It sat in my palm. I didn't feel anything though—no burning sensation, no ominous whispers in my head, no sudden desire to wipe out half the universe.
Disappointing, really. Unfortunately, I didn't have the Infinity Gauntlet to slap it into for dramatic effect.
Asgard had one, sure… except that was fake. A glorified paperweight. In the MCU, the real one was made by Eitri under Thanos' friendly brand of motivational torture. If I'm following that logic, then it hasn't been created yet.
And don't get me started on the comics—those continuity nightmares are less about Infinity Stones and more about Infinity Headaches Gems.
Seriously, you'd need the patience of a monk and the liver of an Asgardian to make sense of that mess.
But in the end, it didn't matter. I've never believed the Gauntlet was the best way to use the Stones anyway. What I need is a better medium, a more compatible vessel. If things go my way, maybe I won't even need a Gauntlet—I'll just channel it directly, with flair and maybe a bit of spite.
Speaking of compatibility… mine with the Soul Stone is probably off the charts. Unfortunately, that one plays hard to get. Like, 'sacrifice someone you love' hard. And last I checked, I don't have anyone I'm willing to toss off a cliff yet.
"But since I'm in Jean's body—and it's naturally in sync with the Phoenix Force, not to mention my Hel Energy—could it also handle the raw energy of the Infinity Stones?"
Theoretical musing is fun and all, but nothing beats a good ol' field test. So I casually started using the Space Stone—not unleashing it fully, mind you, just letting its energy circulate gently through Jean's body.
I didn't go full mad scientist mode, either. I tried absorbing the bare minimum, just a bit of its power. And yet, only seconds in, I hit a wall. The body simply couldn't absorb any more—it had reached its limit, just from that little taste.
But even that tiny dose… it was enough to power the entire United States for a solid three months. That's not an exaggeration. And people call solar power the future.
There I was, sweating over my own upgrade, trying to wrestle god-tier energy into my hands, and meanwhile, Jean and Viper just got their new powers handed to them like it was Christmas morning.
The only thing keeping me from being irrationally bitter was the fact that both of them were mine. Otherwise? I'd be drowning in green envy, and not the cool Loki kind.
Still, I can already picture it—Jean Grey with the Phoenix Force and the Power of Space? Yeah, that's the kind of nightmare combo that makes even cosmic entities need a drink.
That's good for me. Asgard has Odin, Loki, Balder, Heimdall, and some high-level fighters, while I have no one. So yeah, before even considering having an army, I need some high-level fighters.
Still, I'm hoping my original body can absorb even more energy from the Space Stone. At the end of the day, borrowed power is like a loan shark—you never really own it, and it always comes back with interest. Your own strength is the only thing that won't stab you in the back. Hopefully.
Speaking of my body... that brings me back to the giant glowing migraine Odin left me—those damn runes.
Seriously, how the hell am I supposed to deal with that? Runes are pretty damn annoying. Although I've got something that may allow me to free myself, it'll take too much damn time.
I've been thinking about bringing it up with the Ancient One. But let's be real—asking her for help is like asking a judge to help you rob a bank.
The moment she gets involved, it's no longer "neutral." So yeah, unless she's ready to completely offend Odin—which I don't see any reason why she would do that for me—it's probably a no-go.
Then again... screw it. Let's go see her. Worst case scenario, she tells me to get lost. Probable case?
She tries to stop me. But I'm holding the freaking Space Stone. Good luck catching me when I can blink across dimensions like a bored god on a caffeine high.
...
...
...
The Ancient One had barely returned to Kamar-Taj for more than five minutes—a full five minutes of precious peace and silence—before her thoughts, inevitably, turned to Hela.
Ever since she lost the ability to peer into the future, she found herself speculating far more than she liked.
The timeline, once so beautifully symmetrical, now resembled a Jackson Pollock painting—chaotic, loud, and vaguely concerning.
Hela, formerly sealed and fuming, was now free. Time itself was misbehaving, refusing to yield its secrets. The Fantastic Four should have made their appearance, but—because why not?—a Fifth individual had gained powers.
There was, of course, nothing she could do about what had already transpired. That ship had sailed, burned, and likely turned into a sentient time anomaly.
No, her concern lay in steering things away from catastrophe—or at the very least, preventing New York from becoming a crater. Again.
She was particularly troubled by the matter of Stephen Strange.
His 'accident' was supposed to be the start of his path, but with the way things were shifting, it was entirely possible he might simply get obliterated in a random explosion while ordering coffee. That would be... inconvenient.
Yes, there were others who could potentially carry the mantle of Sorcerer Supreme—Tony Stark, if he ever stopped talking long enough to listen; Victor Von Doom, if he ever stopped conquering things—but Strange was her chosen successor. And she did not make choices lightly.
Deep in contemplation, she suddenly sensed a ripple—no, a sharp twist—in space. Normally, spatial fluctuations were common here.
Apprentices constantly tripped over dimensions while learning portal magic. (One had recently opened a sling ring gateway into their own shower. Awkward.)
But this was different. It wasn't someone opening a door—it was someone folding the walls and stepping through without knocking.
The moment the energy brushed against her senses, she recognized it. Of course. It hadn't even been ten minutes.
Hela.
She didn't know what had happened to the goddess in that short time apart—but the power radiating from her now was... different. Not just stronger. Stranger. Wilder.
The Ancient One had lived for centuries. She had watched empires rise, timelines bend, and realities shatter like glass. Very little surprised her anymore.
And yet, as Hela stepped into Kamar-Taj, the Ancient One felt something rare and unfamiliar stir within her.
Curiosity.