Thor charged.
He was three times faster than before. Lightning exploded beneath his feet, driving him forward at full speed.
He threw his right fist in midair, sending hundreds of thousands of volts toward Hela's chest.
Hela did not dodge.
She caught Thor's fist with her left hand.
Lightning erupted across her palm, charring her skin, but her fingers remained locked around his fist.
She lowered her head, looked at her blackened palm, then met Thor's eyes.
"Does it hurt?" she asked.
"When your lightning hits me, does it hurt?"
Thor gritted his teeth and unleashed all his strength.
Blue lightning poured from his fist, engulfing Hela's body like a flood.
Her armor was scorched, her hair curled from the electricity, and black burns covered her skin.
But she still stood there, still held his fist, still looked at him.
"Not enough," Hela said.
She punched Thor in the stomach.
Thor flew backward like a kicked stone, hurtled through the Golden Palace's great hall, and slammed into Odin's golden throne.
The throne shattered on impact, sending golden fragments flying in every direction.
He lay in its wreckage, blood spilling from the corner of his mouth.
Not red blood. Gold. The blood of Asgard's gods was golden.
His body curled amid the shattered gold, his right hand clutching his stomach and his left braced against the floor.
His fingers trembled. His legs trembled. His whole body trembled.
Hela's punch had broken several of his ribs. He could feel the fractured bones grinding against each other whenever he breathed, the pain briefly blacking out his vision.
But that was not why he could not get up.
He could not get up because his body had begun to break down after being overcharged with lightning.
His muscle fibers had been damaged by the