"I don't have a sister who would kill her own father," Thrór said, suppressing his fury.
Hela was speechless, but she could not be bothered to explain. "Fine. Whatever you say."
"Perhaps we can talk this over," Loki said awkwardly. He knew how much "injustice" Hela had suffered, and he preferred to handle this in a gentler way.
Though the chances were slim. Thrór's temper had already flared.
"Sure." Hela smiled indifferently. "Kneel."
"What did you say?"
Hela spread her left hand, and the Night Sword naturally appeared in her palm.
"Kneel and greet your queen."
"Don't count on it."
Thrór hurled Mjolnir with all his strength, but in the next instant, his eyes widened in shock.
Hela caught the indestructible Mjolnir with one hand. To anyone other than its wielder, Mjolnir weighed almost as much as a planet, yet Hela held it with ease, stopping its impact without the slightest effort.
"That's impossible!"
"Little cutie, you have no idea what 'possible' means."
Hela sneered and exerted a little force with her right hand. Cracks instantly spread across the silver hammerhead.
An explosion rang out, and silver light mixed with lightning illuminated the entire coast.
Driven back several steps by the lightning storm, Thrór and Loki opened their eyes to see Mjolnir reduced to silver fragments scattered across the ground.
The two could barely believe their eyes. Crushing a Divine Artifact barehanded—there had to be a limit to how absurd something could be!
Hela gave them no time to process it. She ran both hands over her head, and her hair transformed into a symmetrical crown of spikes. Her clothes became a black combat suit lined with green patterns.
Then she spread her hands, two Night Swords appearing in them, and calmly walked toward the pair.
The sound of swords