Android 18 turned her head and glanced at Hela.
"Such a fine weapon would be a shame to destroy. Giving it to my master is the right choice."
With that, she crouched down and met Gorr's gaze.
Gorr slowly raised his head. Without the Necrosword's energy flowing into him, his face no longer looked so terrifying.
The cracks had faded and thinned, and some were slowly healing.
Light was returning to his eyes. He looked into Android 18's blue eyes, his lips parting slightly.
"Who... are you?" His voice was hoarse, no longer carrying that metallic scraping sound from before. It sounded more real, more like that of a living person.
"Android 18."
"Android 18..." Gorr repeated the name as if savoring its taste. "Not a god."
"No."
"You took my sword."
"It never belonged to you. You were only a puppet under its control!"
Gorr fell silent for a long time. He lowered his head and looked at his empty hands.
He looked at the black patterns fading from his skin and at the wounds slowly healing.
His fingers curled slightly, then stretched out again, as if confirming they still belonged to him.
"How long has it been?" he asked softly, as if asking himself.
"How long has what been?" Android 18 asked.
"How long was I controlled by this sword...?"
Android 18 did not answer. She did not know the answer, and she did not need to.
She turned to look in Thor's direction.
The instant Thor's blue eyes met Gorr's, something flickered in his gaze.
Heimdall's corpse still lay on the Bifrost. His golden blood had dried, becoming a dark golden crust.
His eyes were still open—golden, still gleaming beneath the starlight.
He was dead. He could not be brought back.
But when Thor saw the humanity