Facts were facts. No matter how miserably Thor cried out or how worried he was about his Mew-Mew Hammer, nothing would change.
As Hela continued to exert force, Mew-Mew Hammer trembled incessantly, letting out a pitiful wail.
When the pressure Hela placed upon Mew-Mew Hammer reached a critical point, an earsplitting crack exploded the next second.
Hela's finger joints sank into the hammer's patterns. That divine artifact, which had once shattered mountains and withstood countless attacks, cracked apart layer by layer like glass. Silver fragments showered into her palm, and the remaining pieces were casually ground into powder between her fingers.
Thor let out a rasping gasp, his entire body frozen in place as the hand clenched into an empty fist trembled violently.
He watched helplessly as the final fragment drifted from Hela's fingertips and struck the ground, leaving a tiny crater.
It was the weapon that had accompanied him since his youth, the symbol of Asgard's might, yet now it had become dust crushed to nothing in another's palm.
His long hair fell over his face, while his shoulders slumped uncontrollably, as though every bone in his body had been pulled away.
At the same time, after witnessing that shocking sight, Loki, hiding behind Harry, suddenly stiffened. The fake smile instantly fell from his face, leaving only pure astonishment.
He instinctively reached for the dagger hidden in his sleeve, but the instant his fingertips touched the cold metal, they stopped. He did not have the courage to draw it.
If she could crush even Mjolnir, what did his little tricks amount to?
At that moment, he recalled the ancient tales of the Goddess of Death. Those stories were no longer legends now, but blades hanging over his neck.
Damn it. They were both children of All-Father Odin, so why