Goddess of Death-Hela

When the beam of light from the Bifrost crashed down, the green rift had only been torn halfway open.

As the beam faded, Thor and Loki appeared at the other end of the alley. Thor wore a casual Earth jacket, while Loki was still in his sharp suit. Both faces were filled with anxiety.

Then they saw Chu Hang.

And the golden motes of light dispersing before him.

Thor's face went pale in an instant. He reached out, trying to grasp the light, but caught nothing but air.

Loki stood frozen in place, his expression complicated, impossible to read.

The green rift opened completely.

A woman stepped out from it. She wore tight Black Noir leather, her long hair draped over her shoulders. There was not a trace of life about her—only death and arrogance.

She glanced over the filthy walls and garbage bins, then let her gaze settle on Thor and Loki, a smile curving her lips.

"Look who it is," she said hoarsely. "My two younger brothers."

She glanced at the last remaining motes in the air and shrugged. "Looks like I missed the show. Father is finally dead."

She took two steps forward, each one seeming to tread upon their hearts.

"Allow me to introduce myself." She spread her arms. "I am Hela. Odin's eldest daughter. Asgard's true heir."

Her gaze turned icy. "Now, kneel."

"Kneel?"

Thor looked as if he had heard a joke. The grief on his face was instantly replaced by fury. He held out his hand, and Mjolnir howled through the air amid thunder, smashing toward Hela.

Loki's expression changed. He tried to stop Thor, but it was already too late.

Without even looking, Hela casually raised a hand and caught Mjolnir.

The hammer hummed and struggled in her grasp, yet it could