Loren looked at her.
"Odin was the god of his era. I am the god of mine.
Your power is strong, but you are no match for me.
Not because you are not strong enough, but because your power still lies within the framework of physical laws, while mine transcends them."
He took a step forward.
Hela instinctively took a step back.
"Now, your choice is to submit or continue."
Hela looked into his gray eyes, eyes as still as the ice of Eternity.
She could see her own reflection in them—the disheveled Goddess of Death who had lost Wong's crown.
A thousand years of imprisonment had not made her submit. Her battle with Thanos had not made her afraid. But the despair of having her attacks prove useless made her feel powerless for the first time.
Her knees bent.
She did not kneel. They merely bent, as though her legs could no longer bear her body's weight.
Her head hung low, black hair falling over her face.
Her hands trembled, her lips trembled, and her entire body trembled.
"I... submit!" Her voice squeezed out from behind her lips, hoarse and broken, like the last flickering candle in the wind.
Loren looked at her without speaking.
Hela raised her head. The coldness and cruelty in her green eyes were gone, replaced only by the exhaustion of someone who had walked too far and could finally stop to rest.
There were tears at the corners of her eyes. She was not crying; they simply flowed naturally, as emotions suppressed for too long finally found an outlet.
"I submit," she repeated, her voice slightly louder this time.
"I will not betray you. I will not run. I will not try to seize Asgard again.
I will fight for you, kill for you,