Eyes Locked Through Suffocation: Kill Me and You'll Be Alone Forever

The cervical vertebrae emitted a grinding sound as they struggled to bear the weight.

The oxygen in his lungs was being squeezed out bit by bit, and his chest felt like it was being filled with a burning ember. A dull pain tore at his brain along his nerves. Large black spots began to appear in his vision. Hela's right hand, which was gripping Lynn's neck, was as cold as a block of ice just dug from the depths of a glacier. That biting coldness seeped into his bones through his skin, almost freezing the blood in his veins.

Lynn hung suspended in mid-air, her legs dangling limply.

Any normal person would have been thrashing about like a fish out of water, desperately clinging to the wrists around his neck, begging for mercy with tears streaming down his face.

But Lynn didn't.

He even stopped struggling.

"Aren't you going to beg for mercy?" Hela's voice was close at hand, carrying a strong stench of blood and rotting corpses. Her eyes, which were originally cold, were now bloodshot with rage, staring intently at Lynn's face, which was flushed red from suffocation.

Lynn was smiling.

Even though blood was seeping from the corners of his mouth, and even though his trachea was compressed to the point that he couldn't utter a single coherent sound, he was still smiling. This smile, illuminated by the eerie green Underworld Fire, exuded a madness and arrogance even more deranged than the Goddess of Death.

He's gambling.

Dealing with this Deity, conceited, and betrayed Yandere, obedience and fear will only bore her. Only by completely tearing away the armor she wears as a mask of arrogance and digging out her most raw and painful wounds can a wedge truly be driven into her soul.

Deity like Hela lacks is not reverence, but respect. Only by bringing her down from her pedestal and letting her experience the emotions and desires of mortals can we truly control her.

Lynn loosened his grip on the chains.

Hela squinted, thinking that this tough nut was finally about to give up.

However, the next second, Lynn's hands, covered in sand and blood, suddenly rose and reached towards Hela's face.

"Snap."

Rough palms pressed against Hela's pale, cold cheeks.

The eerie wind that had been blowing through the hall seemed to freeze at that moment.

Hela's pupils contracted sharply.

For thousands of years, who dared to touch her? Who dared to cup her face in such an intimate, yet strangely comforting gesture?

"You... you're asking for death!" Hela's voice trembled with extreme shock and anger. The five fingers gripping Lynn's neck tightened abruptly, the sharp nails piercing the skin of Lynn's neck, and blood trickled down her pale wrist.

Lynn let out a muffled groan.

But his hands, which were cupping Hela's cheeks, did not flinch. Instead, he pressed his thumbs down and rubbed them hard against her cold, hard cheekbones.

"Kill them." Lynn managed to squeeze out broken syllables from his throat. Each word was like sandpaper rubbing against glass, hoarse, yet revealing absolute clarity.

He stared into Hela's eyes, which were slightly widened by shock, his gaze like a red-hot Scalpel, mercilessly cutting through her disguise.

"Crushing my neck... it's too easy." Lynn's chest heaved violently; the lack of oxygen made his head spin, but he still kept his gaze fixed on Hela. "But... if you kill me, you... you'll really have nothing left."

Hela sneered, her eyes blazing with murderous intent, a cruel smile curving her lips, "What a joke! I am the Eldest Princess of Asgard, the Goddess of Death of the Nine Realms! My army..."

"Your army?" Lynn interrupted her rudely, a mocking smile playing on his lips.

He forced back the excruciating pain in his throat and uttered each word with force, striking Hela in the face.

"You bunch of brainless rotten meat, do you even understand what you're saying?"

"All they can do is grovel on the ground like dogs! What can they give you besides their instinct to kill?"

Lynn tightened his grip slightly, forcing Hela to look him in the eye.

"Odin used you, then threw you into this dark and hopeless Underworld like a rag. For thousands of years, Hela. Thousands of years!"

"You sit in this broken, skeletal chair every day, watching that bunch of rotting flesh tearing each other apart. Do you think you're a king?"

Lynn laughed out loud, her laughter filled with deep pity, like the most potent poison, seeping into Hela's heart through her ears.

"You're just a pathetic, crazy woman who's been abandoned."

"Shut up! Shut up!" Hela roared suddenly.

The eerie green Underworld Fire instantly surged three feet, and the berserkers outside the hall were so frightened that they all fell to the ground, whimpering in terror.

Hela's left hand suddenly grabbed at the air, and a jet-black Night Sky Sword materialized out of thin air. She pressed the tip of the sword against Lynn's heart, the veins on the back of her hand bulging, her nails already deeply embedded in the flesh of Lynn's neck. If she exerted just the slightest bit more force, this mortal body would be completely pierced through.

But Lynn didn't even blink.

Meeting Hela's furious gaze, he used the last breath in his lungs to utter the most fatal sentence.

"Do it. Kill me, and then no one in these Nine Realms will understand you anymore."

These words, though devoid of any extraordinary power, are sharper than Odin's Gungnir.

Hela's body suddenly stiffened.

No one will understand you anymore.

These words were like a thunderclap, slamming open the high wall she had built with thousands of years of killing and arrogance.

She recalled the days when she followed Odin, fighting for Asgard in the Nine Realms. She piled up the heads of her enemies into mountains, hoping to gain her father's approval, but what she received in return was fear, dread, and a merciless seal.

She was imprisoned in this place filled with decay and Death Energy.

There was no sound, no living creature. No one dared to look her in the eye, and no one dared to do what this private did: cup her face in his hands, call her a pitiful madwoman, yet pierce her deepest fears with deadly precision.

Lonely.

An extreme loneliness that even death cannot fill.

Lynn looked at Hela.

He could clearly feel the cold face pressed against his palm trembling slightly.

The savagery and murderous intent in Hela's eyes were being replaced by an unprecedented panic and struggle. She stared intently at Lynn, as if trying to find even the slightest hint of retreat or fear in this mortal's eyes.

No.

There was nothing there.

Only that kind of arrogance that sees through everything, and a kind of tolerance that even she herself cannot understand...

Hela's breathing became rapid.

She watched the blood gushing from Lynn's neck, and his eyes, which were gradually becoming unfocused due to lack of oxygen, yet remained stubborn.

The Night Sky Sword pressed against Lynn's heart vanished as a wisp of black smoke.

The hand gripping Lynn's neck had unconsciously loosened its hold.

The sharp nails slowly pierced Lynn's flesh.

"You..." Hela's lips parted slightly, her voice no longer arrogant and haughty, but instead revealed a hint of hoarse confusion.

Lynn knew that this psychological Defense Line had completely crumbled.

Just as he was preparing to press his advantage and completely put this Universal-level Yandere Deity under his wing.

"Thump--"

"Thump--Thump--"

A deep, drawn-out war drumbeat, carrying an extremely powerful and oppressive force, suddenly tore through the dark sky of the Underworld.

The drumbeats, like muffled thunder, pounded on the Obsidian floor, making the withered bones tremble.

The eerie wind outside the main hall suddenly intensified.

Hela snapped back to reality, the confusion in her eyes instantly replaced by a cold wariness. She released her grip as if electrocuted and took a half-step back.

Losing his footing, Lynn crashed heavily onto the Obsidian floor.

"Cough cough cough--" He clutched his blood-soaked neck, greedily inhaling the air mixed with the stench of decay, his chest heaving violently.

Hela didn't look at him, but turned to look outside the palace.

On the horizon, a dazzling golden light cleaved through the Death Energy of the Underworld like a sharp sword.

Odin's vanguard has arrived.