Loren turned another page.
"Then he found one. He found a god, though not the supreme god of the Indigo People—a god from another civilization.
A small, insignificant god worshipped by only a few hundred people.
That god did not know where the Indigo People were, where the supreme god had gone, or anything at all about the Indigo People.
Nor did he care. He was merely a minor god, and his domain extended only to his tiny planet.
Then the man picked up a sword and used it to kill that god."
Thor's blue eyes widened.
Loren pointed to an illustration on the page with his finger. It depicted a black, twisted sword that looked alive.
"That sword was not forged by him, found by him, or stolen by him.
"That sword was the manifestation of his hatred, pain, and despair.
"He poured all his negative emotions into a piece of black metal he had picked up from a dead planet.
"He cast it with his own blood and forged it with his own will.
"The sword came alive.
"It gained its own consciousness, its own hunger, and its own mission: to kill every god."
Loren closed the book.
"That man was Gorr, and that sword was the Necrosword.
"Every god Gorr killed was devoured by the Necrosword, which then fed a portion of that god's power back to Gorr.
"Strength, speed, lifespan, knowledge, magic—everything grew.
"He went from an ordinary Indigo Person with no superpowers at all to a monster capable of killing Asgard's strongest warriors."
Hela walked over from the window, her green eyes fixed on the ancient book atop the desk.
Her fingers lightly brushed across the pages, feeling the ancient words and illustrations.
Her expression was grave. Hela was rarely grave.
"I've heard this legend