Loki stood frozen.
He understood perfectly what was happening.
He was the God of Mischief, after all.
He was no fool.
And yet...
The bitterness burning in his heart was unbearable.
Everything — all his lies, betrayals, manipulations — had led to this.
He had wanted the throne.
He had wanted recognition.
He had wanted Asgard.
And now, all he had achieved...
Was to become the stepping stone for Thor's ascension.
It was humiliation beyond measure.
But it was already too late.
Rumble—
The last arcs of lightning faded.
Out of the swirling clouds and smoke, a figure emerged.
A man clad in shining armor, holding the hammer Mjolnir effortlessly in one hand.
A brilliant red cape flapped behind him like a banner of war.
Thor stood tall and majestic, alive with crackling power.
Jane's heart caught in her throat.
She took a few halting steps forward, unable to believe her eyes.
Thor — reborn, radiant, more magnificent than ever.
Her eyes flickered down.
The armor sculpted his strong body perfectly — like something out of a medieval legend.
The wind tossed his golden hair, the hammer glowed faintly, and the sheer presence of him was overwhelming.
Jane's heart pounded wildly.
Unable to resist, she reached out, brushing his arm lightly.
The warmth of his skin through the armor sent a jolt up her spine.
Blushing furiously, she pulled her hand back like she had touched fire.
"Too manly..." she thought dazedly.
A loud, excited squeal nearly escaped her lips.
But Thor's attention was elsewhere.
He gazed past Jane — to where his brother stood.
His hand tightened around Mjolnir.
With a deep breath, Thor hurled himself skyward, spinning the hammer like a propeller, shooting toward the town square.
The heavens answered him.
Thunder roared.
Lightning danced.
And the Giants of Jotunheim, still grappling with Sif and the others, found themselves flung aside like rag dolls.
The four warriors stumbled backward, gasping, but quickly recovered as Thor landed beside them, bathed in lightning.
"Thor!"
"Haha! I knew you wouldn't die!"
Tagg and the others laughed joyously, their spirits rekindled.
Thor smiled grimly.
He placed a reassuring hand on Tagg's shoulder, then Sif's.
"Thank you," he said quietly, "all of you."
He turned back to face Loki, his expression darkening.
"Now," he said in a voice like rolling thunder, "Loki will answer for his crimes."
Thor strode forward, hammer in hand.
His blue eyes locked onto Loki's.
There was no hatred in Thor's gaze — only sorrow.
"Loki," Thor called, his voice ringing clear across the battlefield.
"Though I care nothing for the throne, your actions have violated the laws of Asgard. Come back with me. Face judgment."
He held out Mjolnir, pointing it at Loki.
There was still a chance.
A thread of hope.
Thor did not wish to lose his brother completely.
But Loki's heart was far too gone.
Anger twisted his elegant features into a grotesque mask.
"I will not return to Asgard a sinner!" he roared, voice raw with hatred.
"I will prove to Odin — to the Nine Realms — that I am better than you! That I am the true King of Asgard!"
The viciousness in his tone left no room for redemption.
Thor's face tightened.
He understood.
There would be no reasoning now.
Thor set his feet.
Raised his hammer.
"Come then, brother," he said quietly.
"Let us finish this."
But Loki — ever the cunning one — didn't rush forward like a fool.
Anger hadn't dulled his mind.
He assessed the battlefield coolly.
Even with the Eternal Spear, he couldn't defeat Thor in direct combat.
Not with Thor restored to full divine power.
But there were other ways.
Other weapons.
Out of the corner of his eye, Loki glanced at Bella — standing at the edge of the chaos, arms crossed, calmly watching like an amused spectator.
Bella caught his gaze.
Her eyes gleamed faintly, but she said nothing.
Loki's mind raced.
If he could recruit her — even temporarily — the odds would shift.
He offered smoothly:
"My offer still stands."
"Help me defeat Thor, and in return — not only will I grant you the Dwarf King's craftsmanship to forge your weapons..."
He leaned forward slightly, eyes gleaming.
"But I will grant you the right to choose any treasure from Asgard's vaults."
It was a tempting deal.
Even Thor tensed slightly.
He turned to Bella with wary respect.
"Son of Midgard," Thor said, carefully choosing his words,
"this matter concerns Asgard's future. I beg you not to interfere."
"Take the Destroyer as thanks. And Asgard's everlasting friendship."
His tone was heavy with meaning.
Thor — the proud God of Thunder — was asking.
Not commanding.
All eyes fell on Bella.
For a long moment, she simply stood there.
The wind tugged at her jacket.
Her golden aura shimmered faintly beneath her calm exterior.
She could feel the weight of the moment pressing down.
And yet...
Bella's decision was already made.
She smiled slightly.
"I'm not interested in your thrones," she said coolly,
"but I am interested in keeping this town from being reduced to rubble."
Her gaze sharpened.
"Leave this place immediately."
"Otherwise..."
She didn't finish the threat.
She didn't need to.
The air around her shuddered.
BOOM—!
A terrifying golden energy exploded outward from Bella.
The shockwave swept across the battlefield like a living wall.
The Frost Giants staggered backward.
Even Loki took a half step back, his mouth tightening.
The ground itself cracked and split beneath Bella's feet.
Her aura burned like a newborn sun, casting harsh shadows across the frozen town.
Golden ripples pulsed from her body — each one heavier, more suffocating than the last.
Everyone felt it.
Even Thor.
Even Loki.
In that instant, no one doubted it.
Bella was not someone you could casually provoke.
She was no mere "superhero."
She was something far, far more terrifying.
A force of judgment incarnate.