The Legends Still Live On
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(I!)
I am the one! (The one!)
Isabel-Justina Hartmann hammered her left fist into the floorboard of her living room as hard as she could, a guttural scream echoing from her as she did. Her punch was hard enough to leave the majority of her fingers broken. But even though that pain was great – and it was, make no mistake, she had a hard punch – it paled in comparison to the heart-wrenching hole in her chest.
Finding out that she had unknowingly been the cause for her sister's choice to run away and leave Schwarzwaldspitze without a trace had destroyed her. It gave her a massive urge to inflict as much pain as possible on herself, believing she deserved every second of it for being such a blind and ignorant moron.
Who lost control! (Control!)
But in the end I'll be the last one standing!
Across the globe, meanwhile, in the bowels of the Zuikaku, Erika-Dietlinde Hartmann was completely wasted, having drunk bottle after bottle of beer to try and just numb herself to the raw feeling of betrayal. And it still wasn't enough. It was times like that when she really hated her acquired tolerance to alcohol; being a full-blood German, drinking came as natural to her as breathing.
So, with a grunt, she chucked the last bottle she had drunk against the steel walls of the massive school ship's lower decks, the bottle smashing and shattering into a million pieces, before heaving herself up and choosing to explore the bowels of the ship. It gave her something to do and distract herself with, hopefully to just ignore the whirlwind of feelings inside her.
(I!)
I am the one! (The one!)
She was in her element here. War raged all around the Graf Zeppelin, but this time, it was important to not inflict casualties. Her objective was merely to disarm. Her long, black hair almost became too much of a nuisance with how quickly she was moving; she was a flash of silver and wine red, her one-of-a-kind double-bladed sword swinging faster than could be reacted to as it disarmed combatants of their weapons left and right, and her accompanying shield deflecting bullets with not even a scratch to its surface.
"STOP THIS!" Sif yelled out, having just finished incapacitating the majority of the warring members of Schwarzwaldspitze's Arts of Warfare programs around the hangars and standing between the rest. Her icy blue eyes were filled with a burning spirit unique to her ilk. "STOP THIS NOW!"
After a few tense seconds in which Asgard's Goddess of War was ready to jump into her dance again, the divided students of Schwarzwaldspitze slowly lowered their weapons. Her effortless subduing of literally hundreds of shooters was enough for everyone there to have some fear her, but Sif couldn't care less about being feared. She just needed these children to stop fighting, because they were much more dangerous than even she could've thought. They had inadvertently shot down the jet she was in, making it collateral damage in their spat.
Whose soul is sold! (Is sold!)
Forever gone to be the last one standing taaaaaaaaaall!
In the depths of Hel, the queen of the realm – with piercing emerald green eyes, raven black hair currently transformed into a complex headdress resembling sharpened antlers, a skin-tight suit with green accents matching her eyes, a long emerald green cape, and some special black heeled boots using a full-length sole along the bottom rather than a stilt like regular heels – lifted her left arm, donned with the all-powerful and fit-to-all-sizes Infinity Gauntlet loaded with all six Infinity Stones, and snapped her fingers.
The commands she gave to the Stones were all carried out in a flash: most notable of the commands were rolling back the clock and erasing from existence from that point on everyone pointed out to her by the Zehoberei woman – Gamora, that was her name – as being affiliated with the big purple scrotum-head, erasing the big purple scrotum-head himself from existence from that point on in time, and lastly, turning the Stones' power against each other, having them destroy each other along with the Gauntlet. Because such power should never have been brought into existence in the first place.
But Hela would never say that was why she eliminated it. Rather, after recovering from the immense pain of unleashing such power, she doubled down on saying, "I do not need such a tool to conquer the cosmos. I can do it all by myself." Looking down at herself, however, the Goddess of Death was met with a surprise: her body had de-aged to that of adolescence. But she didn't freak out. She merely sighed of exhaustion, "So that is why it hurt so badly. I should have known the Stones would not go away quietly. Now I get this as a permanent reminder of the time Thanos the would-be God came to my eternal prison, begging me to free his favorite daughter from her eternal prison even though it was his doing that put her there. And he stole from me souls that were rightfully mine." She blew a raspberry out of disgust. "What an ass. He is no better than Odin." She shook her head out of annoyance and opened an interdimensional portal leading out of Hel.
Glorious
Noble in my mind
Everything I fight to win
Out of all the adolescents that had shot at Sif, the one she was perhaps most intrigued by was the one with the broken hand. Isabel, she believed her name was. While the Warrior Goddess had single-handedly put an end to what she learned was practically a civil war, it was Isabel who had to build her people back up. And she was doing it marvelously. It was a thankless job, one that Sif couldn't help but respect upon understanding it went with the drive Isabel had to achieve victory on the battlefield.
"Who are you?" Isabel all but interrogated her afterwards, having taken her aside to her apartment. She was incredibly wary of Sif initially because of her voice: highly refined yet with a Nordic tilt to it plus an element of otherworldliness. And that made her nervous about this woman, because the last person she had come into contact with that had a similar way of speaking – Loki – had tried to kill her sister as a child. "Where are you from?"
"I am Sif." Normally, she would introduce herself as 'Lady' Sif, but that title had fallen from glory after her banishment, and it just felt wrong and utterly ignoble to refer to herself as such anymore. The Goddess paused a bit, before continuing with resignation of her current status, "Formerly of Asgard."
In the bowels of the Zuikaku, Erika gaped and sobered immediately when a flash of dark light emerged out of nowhere, and out from it flew a body that slammed into the floor. After getting her vision back, she rushed up to the quickly going-limp body, discovering it to be a teenage girl with this weird-but-kind-of-cool skin-tight black suit with green accents. But the strangest part was how the entire left side of her body immediately decayed, as if that entire half of her had just died; blackened skin and black hair turning to a lifeless white on that side only. The other half of her, however, was absolutely flawless.
It was the strangest sight in her short life – and she had already seen some pretty weird shit – but that moral part of her that she tried to suppress was clawing its way back up in her, to get her to help this being – whoever she was – who was utterly helpless at present and looked hurt in more ways than one. She could've sworn during that moment of brief consciousness that this girl had said, "…Frigga…?" She had no idea what the hell that was, but it was so vulnerable how she said it that it immediately tugged at her. She hesitated in indecision before finally sighing and picking her up. Just to stay safe, she kept the flawless side of her closest to her, because the other side kind of grossed her out at present.
When Hela woke up, it was with a jump, having sensed someone looming over her. Without hesitation, she summoned a small dagger-sized version of her go-to Necrosword and leapt at the offender.
"WHOA, WHOA! WHOA!" Erika jumped back across the room to evade. "HEY, I'm not here to hurt you!" Her words earned her a dagger thrown in her direction, which she barely avoided, and it embedded itself into the wall. "HEY, please stop, I just got this place and it's actually nicer than I thought it would be, so can you please!?"
Hela, finally reacquiring her senses, stopped upon comprehending she had been asleep for an indeterminate amount of time in some very modest yet not especially tidy chambers. She looked around. "This place is filthy," were her famous first words to the blonde.
"Well, that's-uh-but…" Erika fumbled for an explanation before finally giving up. "… I mean, you're right. I was never one for cleanliness…"
Taking all and giving
Whatever my pride would let me
Not backing down
Not giving in
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Sif posed a question to Isabel while idly sharpening her double-bladed sword with a whetstone. "Your actions could easily be misinterpreted."
Isabel paused, as if to quickly rethink, studying the Goddess of War for a second before saying resolutely, "I won't know unless I try."
From what little Sif knew of Isabel, she could tell she was a prideful young woman who had just had the rug pulled out from under her in the most painful way. She wasn't necessarily forsaking her pride with her actions now, but more like she was pointing said pride in a different direction, a more positive one. The Warrior Goddess smiled in approval, "You speak true."
Though she did often take off to perform assorted missions for the son of Coul in other places, Sif ended up coming back to the Graf Zeppelin every time. She really enjoyed being around Isabel and helping her out. After all, this wasn't the first sibling rivalry blown out of proportion that she had witnessed. She knew not to enable anything this time around.
Idly, she wondered if this was what Thor had meant when he said the mortals had something special to them. Being around these people made many of her own problems look ridiculous and vain by comparison. She realized she just had to get over them and move on.
On the other side of the world, Hela was back to normal-looking for a teenage girl – recasting the illusion covering her rotten half, gained via courtesy of Surtur, took care of that; though the penalty the abusive use of the Gauntlet gave was permanent, forcing her to remain at that younger age physically – but it left her wondering what the point was in coming to Midgard. Originally, she had wanted to start there for her conquest due to Asgard no longer existing, but now she just… couldn't. Not after this girl, Erika, had shown her such kindness without expecting anything in return, even after that... 'memorable' first meeting. The only other person to ever do the same was her mother. She just didn't back down or give up on her.
"Wait, wait, wait," Erika waved her hands to interrupt her. "You're actually related to Loki?" That prospect honestly terrified her. She still had nightmares of that scepter's glowing blue light and the God's cold smile.
Hela tilted her head, wondering if there was a story there, but she decided to answer honestly, "Yes. And Thor. But they are both pathetic little shits." Erika just sat there, stunned at hearing Loki referred to in such dismissive terms, as if he was insignificant. She kind of wanted to laugh at it.
Things grew more complicated when an old friend of Erika's showed up. Hela then found out the blonde girl had many more problems than she could've imagined her possibly having, among those victimization and a burning hatred for her own blood. If she had been her old self, the Goddess of Death would've exploited that for her own gain, but now she just couldn't. She hated seeing this kind, fun, and big-hearted girl so cold and distant. She realized with a start that she actually cared about someone finally, someone who wasn't her mother. Well, okay, stepmother to be technical, but she still called her 'Mother.'
I wouldn't lose, I couldn't die! (I!)
I am the one! (The one!)
Isabel had given herself an ultimatum: don't lose, or die. In a very meta sense, it was true to her. She just couldn't bear the thought of never seeing her sister again; the feeling would've been comparable to losing a piece of herself. Growing up as children, the way they settled their differences way by fighting. This here was the same thing, just on a much larger scale.
Over the skies of Japan, she was at one with her fighter. She preferred the Bf 109 just because she had flown it exclusively ever since she learned how to fly in combat. It was why she could go in and take out almost fifty A6Ms all on her own, because she had grown to the point where her 109 was an extension of herself.
Who lost control! (Control!)
But in the end I'll be the last one standing!
Over the Hawaiian Islands, Erika was very much the same way. The biggest difference, though, was how she was just a loose cannon against the Americans. Saunders was more prepared for her this year than last year over Belgium, so it was not anywhere nearly as easy for her to take them down.
That didn't mean she couldn't take them all on by herself. No, she did. And she performed admirably. She held her own in five-to-one odds, and still got the upper hand over Saunders. It made it easier for the rest of her Staffel to go support the ground war, which threw a wrench in the Americans' stratagem. In the end, Erika wasn't concerned with winning or not, because in her mind she was going to win anyway. Saunders was just another step in the path to the top.
(I!)
I am the one! (The one!)
While in Japan, Sif dipped through a side street, having heard the increasingly-familiar-to-her sound of guns firing. When she zoned in on the source, she saw several people had one man taken down and were savagely beating him, with some of them, including the victim, bleeding still from what she assumed were gunshot wounds.
Without thinking, she slid her shield and sword off her back into her left hand, assuming this was the 'unnecessary mess' the son of Coul had wanted her to take care of. Upon hearing steps close with them, the sketchy-looking natives – they resembled thieves to her, though she later learned they were often called Yakuza – looked up at her, stopping momentarily.
"Hello!" Sif chirped up cheerily as she drew her sword from its sheath within the shield, following it up by summoning the second blade, extending from the bottom of the hilt to create her double-bladed sword. Then, it was a whirlwind of action. Though there were guns used against her – which had hardly any effect with how small in caliber they were and with how durable the Goddess of War was – she also engaged in sword fights, and she walked away learning that this region of Midgard had some capable sword fighters.
After the entire street was trashed with bodies and weapons and blood, all Derrick Faul had to say to the sword-wielding woman who took that entire gang of bastards down, was, "Oh come on, I had them!"
Sif chuckled, already deciding she liked this guy. "Is that why you are losing blood?" she retorted with mirth as she sheathed her sword's second blade, then sheathed her sword into its place on her shield and put the assembly on her back. She then helped him up. "Let us go. I think you would not enjoy dying here."
"Does anyone?" Derrick muttered. The Warrior Goddess let out a hearty laugh in answer.
Whose soul is sold! (Is sold!)
Forever gone to be the last one standing taaaaaaaaaall!
Hela had really paid a price in not just her physical body, but also her energy levels from using the Infinity Gauntlet as she had. But that was not permanent, as now she had recovered her lost energy and was back to her usual levels. One of the first things she did was summon one of her Necroswords – of full sword-length this time, not that puny little dagger-sized one from at first – and cut through the wall of Erika's chambers to create a doorway connecting hers and her friend's chambers.
She didn't think it was a good idea for Erika to forsake the boy's – Manfred's – longstanding friendship with her just because. She may not have experienced it the way the blonde did, but the Goddess could see that avoiding each other was hurting Erika, even if it was what she insisted she wanted. Hence, her bold and blunt initiative with the crude doorway.
"So… you can summon weapons…" the blonde girl started off in what she pictured was to be an awkward conversation. She had never asked anything out of Hela before, but after seeing what she could do… well, she didn't want to take advantage, but she had to admit the girl had some useful abilities to her.
"… Yes…?" the Death Goddess confirmed, raising an eyebrow. Why was she stating the obvious? Hela just wanted her to get to the point, already.
"Well, the thing is… Um, well first off, it's pretty damn cool, to start with. I mean, just… why bother dealing with people you don't like when you can just, throw axes into their guts? It-It's nothing though. Wait, I-I mean, it's not nothing, but-" Erika fumbled around, but Hela cut her off, exasperated.
"Just get to your point, darling." The death Goddess soon discovered that this colossal ship of education – which also bred warriors in a way – wasn't the most well-funded, so munitions were hard to come by. Hela, having her millennia of experience with weapons crafting, could help out by making those munitions for them. She took up Erika's offer, secretly pleased to have a purpose once again, even as menial as it was.
It was interesting to her, dissecting these weapons and learning their intricacies. Before her thousand-plus years of imprisonment, these kinds of projectile weapons weren't terribly common, and often had more faults than virtues. But now, they were the standard. She became, in Erika's words, something of a weapons nerd, growing fascinated about every little thing with them.
I walk alone
With my head held high
Never felt that I belonged
"When you have lived as long as I, you experience much," Sif told Isabel one night, when neither could sleep all that well. "Right now, I think about Loki. You know him as a monster, and that is what his actions said of him, you are not wrong. But he…" Sif had to pause to avoid choking up, because as much as she hated him then, she was still torn apart by Loki's death a few years back. She shook her head to clear it. "But at the same time… I knew him. I knew him before all of that. Probably better than anyone else, even his brother."
The younger of the two grew intrigued. Loki was, and always will be, someone she hated with a burning passion, but she was still curious to hear about the other side of things. "And?" she prompted the Warrior Goddess.
Sif let out a mournful sigh. "I still remember when we were both children, brought together by circumstance," she told. "We were both outcasts growing up in Asgard: I was a girl who wanted to be a warrior, a role viewed by society as being a man's role; and Loki, he was a boy who wanted to become the greatest sorcerer in the Nine, but Asgard usually looked down on sorcery and seidr as being for women. We were both endlessly mocked growing up, for our queerness and silliness, as they called it. So, we naturally gravitated toward one another, and he became my friend. My best friend."
"My place in Asgard was to be her greatest weapon," Hela related to Erika one night on the long open-air hallway before their chambers. "And I was. I had drowned entire civilizations in blood and tears. But I was nothing more than that. I was only taught to fight, only bred to kill. I never had anyone even remotely resembling friends, because Odin thought it pointless to teach a weapon how to mingle in social affairs. But what I hated, absolutely hated, the most, was how I had always tried to please him, and yet it was all for nothing. I was merely a weapon to him. He never accepted me as anything more than that. And when that weapon no longer worked right for him, he threw me down to Hel, and caged me. Locked me away like an animal, his own flesh and blood."
Now, Erika knew that everybody had daddy issues at some point. It was a part of growing up, after all. But this? These were some serious daddy issues. She could scarcely imagine anything like that happening to her.
"When I finally broke free upon his death, I was ready to take the throne as the heir and bring Asgard true glory once more," Hela continued, her real off-kilter attitude showing fully. "But… they did not even remember me." She scowled hard in memory of the ceiling mural of lies. "Odin completely erased me from history, covered everything up." She summoned a dagger and slammed it into the railing. "As if I had never existed. And then my brothers, brothers I had never known I even had. Just the fact both of them existed at all was enough to utterly piss me off. They were both meant to replace me, and they were both so willing to carry out Odin's will. They were Odin's sons, and I hate them, because I was never Odin's daughter."
After hearing about the planet-sized issues of Hela's family, Erika had, for the first time, rethought her own issues with her sister. She had wondered whether she was blowing this whole mess out of proportion, but her mind quickly overwhelmed her with thoughts of betrayal and manipulation, pulling her back in line with her original goal of ruthlessly humiliating her sister by defeating her.
Stand my ground at all costs
Running through light with blindfolds
Just for the right
Right to be wrong
Just as Erika had reaffirmed herself to continue her pursuit of destroying her sister's reputation, Isabel had chosen to press on with trying to defeat her as well, to get her to listen to her, and then try and gain her forgiveness.
But Sif knew better. If what she assumed about her and her sister turned out to be true, then she just knew their issues wouldn't instantly evaporate like they were nothing. If anything, being apart for a year was likely going to make things worse, going off her own experiences with Thor and Loki. A year apart for them had resulted in a huge battle on Midgard that held the realm's very fate in the balance. And, from what she had been told, Loki had done it all just to make a mockery of Thor and take away what was most precious to him.
While they weren't on the same level as the two Odinsons, Sif could tell that the two Hartmann sisters could be very dangerous if pushed to the extreme. And she would wager they could make the sky go black should they battle each other eventually.
"She is blinded by her perception of doing the right thing," the Warrior Goddess warned Michael as they both watched Isabel practice with the rest of her Geschwader. "Should she and her sister battle one day, I fear there will be massive collateral damage."
"When they do," the dark brunette began, already knowing it was merely an inevitability, "I can only pray that my brother and I have already ripped the blindfolds from their eyes. Perhaps then they'll be too blinded by their shows of care that it overwhelms the hatred."
"I am not one to judge you on your family problems," Hela offhandedly commented to Erika as the latter ate some Italian cuisine. "But have you thought about whether or not being in the wrong may turn out to be a good thing?"
The blonde paused, fork mid-way to her mouth. It made sense to her in a very twisted way, though really only because Hela was living (well, okay, not exactly 'living;' more like 'half-alive, half-dead') proof of that. Even after the horrible life she had lived, falling from grace and becoming her people's number one enemy, Erika saw Hela as not regretting it a bit. It was as if, while Erika's irrationality made her give a million reasons as to why something wasn't worth it, the Goddess of Death was resolute to the point she needed only one to say it was. And that reason, she knew, was the both of them meeting.
Erika and Hela really understood each other, surprisingly, and they had become great friends despite being total opposites and from entirely different realms. The same could also be said of Isabel and Sif, in a sense. Their friendship had somewhat of a mentoring element to it as well, given the Goddess of War's reflection on herself as a person and wanting to help out the Black Demoness to try and prevent her and her sister from turning into Thor and Loki. The whole 'mentor' aspect was also obviously because Sif was physically fully grown while Isabel wasn't. Obviously.
Nothing would rule my world but you! (I!)
I am the one! (The one!)
As the flying ace, the Black Demoness, she was hardly thrown off by much of anything when she was in her element. It was as if a switch was flipped in her, directing all her focus to achieving victory. Though subconsciously her drive to achieve a win was through the promise of being able to make amends with her sister, she never recognized such purpose in her element, rather choosing instead to focus on the fighting itself.
Against the Finnish students of Jatkaminen, Isabel was faced with a challenge. It would've been a challenge regardless, as she had dealt with them before. They were a crafty bunch, and very efficient also. It really exercised her abilities as a tactician.
Who lost control! (Control!)
But in the end I'll be the last one standing!
Erika noticed how Ooarai as a whole tended to operate separated when they went up against the Italians from Anzio, oftentimes forgoing any kind of backup and running solo. Add to that how her side was outnumbered two-to-one, and on the surface it looked as if her team was suicidal.
But the blonde was able to milk that perception distortion for what it was worth, knowing that the enemy's air forces were not nearly as strong in the air as their number suggested, and were borderline useless against her side's ground forces. Manfred knew this as well, letting her have free reign over the skies without his commands barking into her ear.
(I!)
I am the one! (The one!)
"The shield originally came with a different sword as a set," Sif explained her weapons to Isabel and Michael one day while relaxing. The desert heat was so high it gave no incentive for anyone to work in that kind of heat. "But I got a new sword in more recent years." She unsheathed her sword and held it before her. "This one. Both were forged in a place called Nidavellir."
Michael quirked an eyebrow at the foreign word, not really understanding. "That's a made-up word," he claimed, disbelieving.
"Uh, no it's not!" Isabel countered the dark brunette boy almost immediately, having actually studied the Norse myths and knowing it was where the Dwarves lived.
"Well, all words are made up, are they not?" Sif shrugged, idly running her fingers along the currently single blade.
Isabel looked about ready to argue with Michael some more until the Goddess of War's words registered. Then, all she could do was look to her, baffled a bit. "… I mean, you're not wrong…" she finally acquiesced that Sif had a point.
Whose soul is sold! (Is sold!)
Forever gone to be the last one standing taaaaaaaaaa-A-aaaaaaaaaall!
"MMM! This is delicious!" Hela marveled at the Italian cuisine she had tried for the very first time. "Oh, it is like an explosion of flavor and it is just so delectable and tasty!"
Erika had to laugh at the Goddess of Death's demeanor: she reminded her very much of a highly enthusiastic child, with how she talked with her mouth still full and how unrefined her table manners were. It was a little bit depressing when she thought about it deeply, wondering if Hela had even had a childhood at all, but it made her feel so warm to see her finally get to explore that side of her.
"Hey Erika, you should try this!" Hela shoved a forkful of ravioli into the blonde's mouth. Erika nearly choked on it, but she couldn't fault her for being so enthusiastic. She was just as excited for Anzio's traditional post-battle parties, as they were always great and so satisfying on all levels.
Though she had never been, and likely never would be thanks to her ties to Hel, Hela was willing to bet that the eternal feasting in Valhalla couldn't top the feast she was having at present. It was just so fucking good, all this food. She even started picking some food from other plates and trying it out. One of those plates belonged to Manfred.
"Uh, what? Hela-hey! That's mine!" the Panzerkommandeur objected, looking a little put out by her picking. "You just took my food!"
"Oh, sorry!" the Death Goddess giggled with a full mouth, not sounding like she was sorry at all. She gave him a little pat on the hand as recompense, leaving faint tomato sauce fingerprints on the back of his hand.
The next two matches on the list for each of the Hartmann sisters included Isabel going up against St Gloriana, and Erika taking on Pravda.
"I thought we both agreed that you would take him back!" Isabel argued with Michael over what to do with their captured British spy, Aston. Said Brit looked between the two of them like it was a ping-pong game as they traded words.
"No no, I never said I agreed! In fact, I don't remember saying anything! You just got up and left after you spoke!" the Panzerkommandeur argued back.
Isabel looked up and growled in frustration, reaching up but just stopping short of pulling her hair out. She then turned to the fourth person in the vicinity. "Sif, your thoughts?" she prompted, hoping to get some help from her.
"I think you should drop him from the skies behind enemy lines," the Warrior Goddess quipped distractedly as she performed some katas, preparing for the day. She wasn't expecting to be met with silence right after though, and she noticed all three giving her strange looks. That's when it hit her. "With one of those parachute things, of course."
Sif was so nonchalant about the whole thing because it wasn't a real argument she was witnessing. She had to admit, it was clever on the two adolescents' part: throwing false information at an enemy spy as if it was legitimate, which would throw off their plans when they realized they were in the wrong the whole time. The two of them fighting was just a façade, to get the enemy to believe they had dissention and inter-branch rivalry, when really no such thing existed.
Meanwhile, further north, Hela was braving the cold Russian winter just fine in only her black and green bodysuit. "Seriously you two, it is not that cold…" she said to Erika and Manfred, both of whom were freezing, even with winter clothes on.
"I'm sorry, but not all of us have had the pleasure of experiencing the eternally frozen realm of Jötunheim!" Erika retorted, bitter about the cold and hot with anger for the Russians.
Hela quirked an eyebrow. "Wow, I am surprised you know about that realm," she commented, not even bothering acknowledging the sarcasm.
"Ach, verpiss dich," Erika said to piss off as she walked away. Manfred signaled to Hela with his hands and shaking of his head to not take her words to heart. The Goddess of Death nodded understandingly, in a way that said, 'of course,' before giving a thumbs-up for encouragement for their coming battle.
Nothing would rule my world but you! (I!)
I am the one! (The one!)
"How dare you come at me with that face…" Sif snarled after pushing Isabel and Michael behind her. Sword and shield drawn, she was looking at someone – no mere mortal, she was sure of that – who appeared just like the God of Mischief, Loki. It couldn't possibly be the Sivertongue himself, she figured. He was dead. "Have you no respect for the fallen?"
Loki shrugged as if it was no big deal. "Well, no, not really. Considering I have experienced the act three times now, I found it tedious at best, a dull pain in my neck at worst," he answered, those emerald green eyes quickly glancing at Isabel and Michael. When he caught Isabel, he grew a small devious grin, relishing how her gaze burned with affirmation.
Isabel was not the only one to connect the dots, as Sif thought that response was one only one person could give. And that was what made her sheath her weapons before launching herself at Loki, wanting to unleash utter Hel on him for everything he had just proven was a lie.
Who lost control! (Control!)
But in the end I'll be the last one standing!
"ENOUGH!" Loki unleashed a blast of his seidr in all directions to shove the out-for-blood Sif away from him. He was sick of fighting her. "I already said, I am here because your banishment has been ended!"
"A banishment that you decreed!" the Warrior Goddess spat back, her hot-blooded attitude resurfacing for the first time in recent memory.
"And it ended up saving your life!" the Chaos God threw back at her. Both were breathing heavily as the last several years rushed through them in a torrent. "I know you, Sif. Had you been there, you would have gotten yourself killed along with the others."
"Yet you know I had dreamt of a glorious death alongside my friends!" Sif retorted, still freshly angered by his very presence. "And you denied me that!"
"There is no glory in death!" Loki barked at her. "Death is the very reason Asgard is gone!"
(I!)
I am the one! (The one!)
"…What?" Sif breathed. Hearing about everything that had happened since her banishment hit her like a truck, to use a mortal phrase. Asgard, the Realm Eternal, was gone? Ragnarök happened? And what was this about Loki having possibly died a third time?
"The realm of Asgard may be gone, but its people live on," Loki told her when both had finally calmed. "There is a place we found here on Midgard, along the coast of a land called Norge. We refer to it as Ny Åsgard." Looking away, he paused, then added, "It is the place Odin passed. He called it home, and Thor took that as a sign."
Sif looked down in thought, still distressed at everything that had happened in her absence. It was all so overwhelming, knowing that everything had changed so much. She almost didn't want to go back because of all that, but at the same time, she knew she was necessary to her people's survival now. Asgard's entire army had been decimated during Ragnarök, leaving her and the Odinsons as part of a select handful that made up the last of Asgard's warriors. "Give me a moment," she muttered before turning away and walking off.
Whose soul is sold! (Is sold!)
Forever gone to be the last one standing!
"Isabel! Isabel, please listen!" Sif pleaded with the German ultra-ace, shaking her. Isabel was on the verge of breaking down, mainly because she just didn't know where to go from here without Sif to help her. "Please. You have made mistakes in the past, but you have to forgive yourself if you want to fix them."
"No, I can't!" Isabel cried, shaking her head. "I… How can I when I drove away all that I love in such a cruel manner? It's madness!"
"Come now, where is that young woman with several hundred shoot-downs to her name?" Sif posed to her. "Where is that incredibly strong girl that can accomplish anything she puts her mind to?"
Isabel landed her head on the Warrior Goddess' shoulder. "I can't… I'm not as strong as you…" she muttered, her wet face buried into the shoulder piece of her silver armor.
Sif held her in a comforting embrace, doing her best to ease her fears. "No… You are stronger," she stroked her hair before letting go and joining Loki, who was pointedly looking away from everyone. She met eyes with Isabel, giving her one last encouraging smile before Loki warped them away in a flourish.
(I!)
I am the one! (The one!)
"'Everything will be fine,' you said. 'They will not recognize you,' you said. Try saying that again, Erika…" Hela sarcastically commented as she summoned her antler-esque headdress, ready to battle many of her brother Thor's friends in Ny Åsgard's massive arena while Erika backed away with her own knife drawn by instinct.
"Hey, to be fair, I didn't realize what this place was at first when Helma came to me talking about this archery competition she signed up for in Norweg!" Erika retorted, survival instincts telling her to run safe but her friendship instincts forcing her to stay and at least give some support with her mere presence. "You can't blame me! I didn't even know this place existed!"
"Just get somewhere safe, will you?" Hela shot back, flinging one of her swords at the last remaining Valkyrie charging her. She deflected the sword with her own Valkyrie standard-issue Dragonfang sword, making Hela fling another one at her with the same hand, backhanded, which she also deflected. Hela twisted and underhandedly swung another sword extending out of her other hand, which the Valkyrie parried. She was close enough to take a swipe at her while Hela followed through with her spin to face her, but Hela used the blade extending from her fist to block her and make her overshoot her charge. The Valkyrie swung again backhanded with her distinct sword, but Hela parried her with her sharpened-antler-esque headdress before delivering a powerful kick to her torso with a blade extending out of her heel, knocking her dozens of meters away across the arena onto her back and temporarily putting her out of commission with the stab wound.
Who lost control! (Control!)
But in the end I'll be the last one standing!
Hela was willing to fight to defend herself, but she had learned over the last several months to take down people without killing them. Erika had shown her the meaning of life, so she was determined not to upset her by betraying that. Yet still, watching her fight was like watching a dance. A dance of death.
Hela manifested a Necrosword in each hand as she faced the spread-out group of 'Avengers,' as she was told they were called. Dumb name, but she had learned not to underestimate any enemy ever since Ragnarök. She pierced the two arm-mounted shields a soldier with blonde hair and a faint star outline on his outfit was armed with, using her leverage to shove him aside. She quickly twisted around and stepped to dodge a dark-skinned bald woman swinging with a spear, simultaneously gaining momentum to flip back towards the main group, dodging all their ranged attacks while twisting her body throughout the flip to retain vision of everyone. Landing, she took down a spy-looking woman with short blonde hair by striking her with the flat end of her sword's blade, followed by deflecting a salvo of arrows with her arm. She then twisted back and flung a flurry of swords at a sorcerer with a cape. He was protected with magic shields coming from his hands, but he was still thrown back with the sheer force of her throw.
Hela then shoved another oncoming attacker out of her path, the dark-skinned woman with the spear from earlier, making them overshoot, before she performed a flying backwards cartwheel, flinging swords out of her feet to drive back a younger sorcerer, a young woman in a corset with burning eyes of rage. Hela then deflected an attack from her side by the blonde spy before giving a powerful swing to the scarlet-clothed witch who had charged her hurling a red energy ball. Hela's swing redirected the energy ball back at her and threw the girl back. Several attacks came in from all directions, arrows and bullets plus magic spells, and she had to swing all around three-hundred sixty degrees to deflect them all. At the end of her circle-around, she hit what she recognized was a Kronan in the leg with her sword, forcing the rock creature to drop down. She didn't lose momentum, swinging back around one-hundred eighty degrees, giving an uppercut to the Kronan to knock them over, summoning another sword and parrying a behind attack from the soldier from earlier, the one with the arm shields, by stabbing one of the arm shields and throwing him away again with her strength.
(I!)
I am the one! (The one!)
Bullets came flying in from the sky, and Hela instinctively drew her emerald green cape over herself as a shield. She then used both hands to fling a salvo of swords up at the skies, and hit her targets, bringing down but not killing – most important to her; she wanted to incapacitate, not kill – three flyers, one a physical person in a bird-like suit with long wings, another a small red flying machine that launched from the first one's back, and another physical person in a dark, bulky suit of armor. She sidestepped a repulsor blast from a dark-skinned adolescent girl, blocked a follow-up blast from her – following that, the attacking girl wisely chose to retreat – and spun around to deflect with her sword a salvo of throwing knives thrown by the blonde spy from behind her, finally parrying the same spy's electric baton swing, with the force of her parry throwing the spy back several meters.
She quickly spun around the opposite direction throwing swords to parry a multi-directional charge, the swords aimed at a boy with a metallic spider-styled suit – catching onto a web he shot out of his wrist and taking him for a ride – a woman in a dark wasp-like suit – who shrunk to evade, running along the blade, but the Necrosword's excess jagged edging caught her and took her for a ride also – and lastly another dark-haired soldier with a metal arm, with the sword impaling and hooking into said arm's wrist and throwing him back with the force of the throw. The dark-skinned woman with the spear swung at her from the front, but Hela parried her with her antlers, using them to rip the spear out of her hands before delivering a hard uppercut to knock her back. She then flung a sword at the scarlet-clothed witch, forcing her to create a shield from her hands that cracked from the intense strength of the throw, knocking her back. Hela then twisted around again, summoned another sword, and used it to catch the energy whip of the caped sorcerer, using her leverage to throw him across the arena.
She threw a blade at some weird purple alien she couldn't recall the species name of with a robotic exoskeleton that used blades for hands, the sword catching on the skeleton and yanking it back. Then she lifted up both arms to extend to either side of her, lifted her leg to point out ahead of her, and balanced on one foot as she leaned back and flung blades from each of her airborne limbs to deter a multi-directional charge from the blonde soldier, the blonde spy, and the rock creature, hitting them by the nips of their clothes and yanking them back. She turned and flung a flurry of swords at a man in a silver and red suit, who shrunk to avoid them but got yanked by the fangs of one Necrosword when he tried to run along the blade's edge. She then twisted back and flung a flurry of swords with her other arm towards the scarlet-clothed witch, who only just barely managed to deflect them via telekinesis, Hela noticed, as red outlines of energy surrounded the swords flung at her. Then, she twisted back and caught a uniquely Dwarven-crafted weapon thrown at her: an axe, with one end of the blade a sharp blade like an axe, and the other end blunt, meant to serve as a balancing weight but also usable as a hammer, with a crude handle resembling a tree branch. Though it was never crafted during her time, she still recognized the basic design as that of the Stormbreaker. Wow, Thor had this now? She had to admit, she was impressed, as she recalled it was designed to be just as strong a weapon as the Infinity Gauntlet, but she only briefly paused to look at her brother knowingly before she threw the axe back at him.
Whose soul is sold! (Is sold!)
Forever gone to be the last one standing taaaaaaaaaall!
"HELA!" the Goddess of Death heard Erika scream. She whipped around to find the girl living through her greatest nightmare: Loki had a knife to her throat and held her hands behind her, tightly enough to prevent retaliation or escape, despite her struggles. Neither had seen the God of Mischief throughout the fight, assuming he wasn't much of a fighter, but now they realized they had vastly underestimated him. He may not have been a fighter, but he was a great strategist, going after Hela's greatest weakness like that.
"Enough, sister," Loki warned, just as cold and wicked as the blonde had remembered him. "I have been waiting six years to end this girl's life. Do not give me a more compelling reason to."
Erika was trying to shake her head to convince Hela not to give up, knowing that if she turned herself in, then they would lock her up for eternity again. But Hela, after debating whether or not Loki would actually kill her and seeing just how terrified the girl was despite trying to not be, eventually decided she wasn't willing to risk her friend for anything, so she laid down her swords and raised her hands.
"HELA, NO!" Erika screamed, desperate to stop her from this crazy plan of hers but unable to do a thing about it. "ARE YOU CRAZY!?"
"Erika…" the Goddess of Death said to her, pleading for her silence for just a second. "This is my choice." Those words struck Erika to the core as she realized Hela was not going to budge. When the special cuffs were placed on her wrists, Hela immediately felt her power suppressed, which showed physically as the illusion covering her rotten half faded away. If this was the price she had to pay to do something good for once in her life – making sure Erika was safe – then she would pay it.
Erika had to hold her hand to her mouth to stop herself from breaking out into sobs. Hela had just become too important to her as a friend to see go, especially with the people who were her own kind yet absolutely hated her. They would throw her in a dark cell for eternity again, she just knew, and she knew Hela would rather die before being forced back into that darkness again.
Seeing clearer what I've done!
I refuse to let things go!
Sif had no idea what to think about the mess that happened in the arena. She had really missed a lot, it seemed. Now she learned that Odin had another child way before her own time that he had used as a weapon in the pursuit of building Asgard's empire. And seeing her in action… She had always thought the Valkyries were Asgard's most elite warriors, but now she questioned that after seeing Hela effortlessly fight off the majority of Earth's mightiest heroes, toss aside Valkyrie without breaking a sweat, and utterly humiliate Thor by catching and hurling his own axe back at him.
"I think I finally understand why you despised Odin so much back then," the Goddess of War said to the God of Mischief lying across the couch on the other side of the table. "It was the lies, was it not?"
"You would think he would have been better suited for being the God of Lies rather than me, but here we are…" Loki mused as he read a book. That was so him, to read a book just because.
I could never once admit I'm wrong!
And what do I have to show!?
"Do you still despise him?" Sif posed tentatively, knowing that Loki had very sore issues with Odin before. But she was still curious, because she couldn't help but notice how he had changed somewhat. He was still the God of Mischief, but it was as if, though he could be extremely cruel and ruthless as always, he was ultimately on the side of good, which was new to her.
"I would…" the Chaos God paused, briefly working out how to word it, "… if he had not recognized me as his son moments before he passed." He shut his book and put it on the table, applying full focus to this matter. "As much as I strived to prove myself an Odinson over the years, I was about ready to throw in the towel, thinking I would never have that distinction. But he surprised me in the end and finally gave me the recognition I had always wanted from him."
Sif looked down, recalling every single time Loki had spat in the Allfather's face in the past. And it still floored her how much things had changed now. Now, for the first time she can recall in recent memory, Thor and Loki were not fighting each other, and looked to have settled everything between themselves. They were brothers again. Perhaps Ragnarök had given some unexpected blessings in its chaos.
Though, looking at how overgrown Loki's hair was, Sif slyly smiled as she pulled out a dagger, gaining an idea. "I think it is about time I return the favor," she told him, waving the blade at her own raven black hair before doing the same in his direction.
Loki looked to her, raising his eyebrows. The last time either of them had held a dagger so close to each other's head was when Loki had cut her hair off when they were children. Originally she was a blonde, but she had asked him to cut it all off so everyone would take her more seriously as a warrior. Loki then proposed the idea to curse it to regrow black, to take the original idea of seriousness further, and Sif had agreed wholeheartedly to it, unlike how most people believed it as Loki cutting it all and cursing it out of spite.
Seeing clearer what's at stake!
And the things I have to change
"If there's anything – anything at all – that you want from me… know that I, and the rest of the Guardians, will do it without hesitation," Gamora promised to Hela – still with half of her appearing absolutely dead – from the other side of the Goddess' holding cell, meant to hold her until trial. The green-skinned woman with dark hair fading to a hot pink at the tips and silver scars along her face was here to offer Hela a chance to get out. After all, her chosen family knew a thing or two about escaping prison, and she had a huge personal debt to her for being freed by her. "You saved me, and my family, and several trillions of lives all across the universe from Thanos, even though you had no reason to. So I owe you."
Hela remembered one other command she had issued through the Infinity Gauntlet as a price for Gamora's request, which was to have everyone involved in the so-called Infinity War remember their experiences, even when time was reset and the war was no more in this timeline. She had thought it up as a sadistic way to torture people with thoughts of what could have been, because she understood emotional manipulation was very painful and a damning form of mental torture. But now, she just thanked herself for doing that, because that meant Gamora remembered their brief time together. Taking that into account, to hear her genuinely thank her made her feel very warm on the inside, and it made her smile. It was an incredible rarity for her to receive thanks, and she treasured it.
But Hela knew there was no other way to go if she wanted to atone for all her wrongs than to go through the law. So she instead summoned a little project she had been working on into her hand: a sword hilt, with a button on the side of it that she thumbed, resulting in the blade of a Necrosword extending from the hilt. She had created it as a replacement for Gamora's own sword – Godslayer, she remembered, long since destroyed by the Mad Titan – should she ever run into her again. Retracting the sword's blade, she pushed it through the energy barrier that served to cage her in – the barrier kept her in, but it could recognize other objects and let them through if they were unthreatening – and let the cybernetically-enhanced Zehoberei take it.
"All I wish of you, is for you to live your life with your family," Hela told her. "Girls like us do not generally get the chance for happiness, so I want you to make the most of yours." Tilting her head, she just remembered something: a few days ago – the day before she was arrested – when she was exploring the city with Erika's friends, she had briefly seen Gamora at one point, also out for a walk with the mortal she was in love with – Peter Quill, the name came to her – and another cybernetically-enhanced being: a Luphomoid, she could tell, who she assumed was the sister Gamora had spoken of. But she distinctly recalled how back then the Zehoberei was heavily pregnant, looking ready to pop. But now only a few days later, her body was as slim as it was when they first met, so she wondered… "Speaking of, I believe you already have. What have you been up to lately? Specifically the past few days?"
Gamora grinned in good nature, "I knew that was you! Yeah, you caught me." She then grew a look of adoration. "Yes, I just had my daughter only two days ago. She's just perfect."
"I assume with that Star-Prick," Hela jabbed. Gamora nodded in confirmation while giggling, knowing the Goddess was just teasing her about Peter and meant no malice. Hela recalled that two days ago was the day she was arrested. Now it made sense why she didn't see her at the arena, or any of the other so-called 'Guardians of the Galaxy.' "What is her name?" she asked, curious.
The Zehoberei paused ever so briefly, wondering how she would take her choice. Peter had supported her on it, but Hela was a different story. "Elspeth," she revealed the first name, picked out for being her own long-since-deceased mother's name, though she was not done yet. She grew a smile with a hint of pride in it at revealing the whole thing. "Elspeth Hela Quill." The Goddess of Death's eyes went wide in disbelief, completely floored and shocked in the most pleasant way possible. Gamora had named her daughter partly in honor of her, the Goddess of Death! HER!
I just hope I can, it's not too late!
To get a chance to end this pain!
"Your Majesty, just let me cut her head off already," the last Valkyrie impatiently requested of Thor. The day for Hela's trial had finally come. It was a strictly Asgardian affair, meaning the Avengers and Guardians of the Galaxy held no sway and as such weren't there for it. "It is better than she deserves but I cannot stand her presence any longer."
"You should know by now that would not work, darling," Hela mocked her, standing below and before her blonde brother in chains. With them on, she was still unable to cover up her rotten half, putting it on full display to everyone, yet she was still prideful in her stance. She wasn't willing to admit to anyone there that she had actually done good things, because she didn't care how she was thought of by a people who forgot her. Why not just be who they expected her to be? They wouldn't think any differently of her, anyway. "You already tried twice before, and failed. We have already established that I cannot die. Or were you drunk then and you missed it?"
"Hela, enough!" Thor warned. Loki and Sif were to his left, Loki directly beside his brother with a new shorter haircut courtesy of the Warrior Goddess. Neither had words to offer, Sif because she knew nothing about Hela, and Loki because he wasn't entirely on either side, knowing a little too much about where both sides had come from.
"Oh, brother, it must burn you," the Goddess of Death taunted, eyes full of twisted pleasure. "Your attempts to kill me destroyed the entirety of our home, and yet you still failed. And you even had the audacity to lie about it to your friends!" Thanks to both Peter and Gamora's recounts, Hela knew for a fact her brother had lied about her death to the Guardians, but to the Avengers and other Asgardians she only assumed. "But no, I will let you continue pretending to be Odin's perfect little heir, if only because it will be fun ripping the rug out from under you later! We both know the difference between you and I: I am Odin's firstborn, the rightful heir, the savior of Asgard! And you are nothing!"
Upon his sister spitting out her last word, the Thunder God's natural left eye and cybernetic right eye flashed in rage and with lightning, and he meant to throw an electrified Stormbreaker at Hela, but a small hand held his arm back and got him to calm down, de-escalating the conflict. "Actually…" the woman to his right interrupted, with an American accent, very uncharacteristic for an Asgardian. "Now that you brought up Odin, I've just gotten an idea for a fair and just sentencing."
The Asgardian court fell silent as their Queen Jane, formerly the mortal Jane Foster but now the full-blooded Asgardian Goddess of Thunder, presented her idea. It was an idea that the majority had to admit actually was fair, in that it was perfect for making Hela not want to perform her crimes again.
The sun was getting low in the skies over Remagen, Germany. And Isabel felt a mixture of fear and resignation. She had lost in her duel with Erika, giving victory to Ooarai. Losing in itself didn't really bother her so much now, but having lost when the stakes were so high for her left a feeling of hopelessness.
"I can't forget my mistakes," she had told Michael the night before the fight. "Those memories are the only things I have to drive me forward. They are the only things giving me purpose."
Though she was on the high of victory, Erika couldn't help but get cold feet when she caught her sister's gaze from across the field. It was a sensation she had felt for the past couple of years whenever she caught her sister's eye, but it felt so much heavier this time in particular.
"All this time, I've been going the complete wrong direction," Erika had said to Manfred in a late-night talk the previous night. She absently twirled her knife with one hand. "What does that say of me? That I'm just way in over my head and an utter fool?"
Watching from the side, Michael's dark brown eyes lit up in pride at seeing the two sisters make the first step towards one another. He allowed himself to smile at it.
"No, you shouldn't forget, but you should forgive," the dark brunette had told Isabel last night. "Acknowledging and accepting the past is the first step towards change. What you're trying to accomplish will not be easy in the least bit. However, it's as they say: the greater the risk, the greater the reward."
Manfred looked to his brother and nodded to him with a smile. He had not failed Erika as he feared he would. And it gave him great relief to know she was back.
"It says that you haven't missed the deadline," the vibrant brunette had dished out to Erika that previous night. "You still have a chance to set things right. All you need to do so is a drive, and I believe you have one. I know you still love Isabel. If you didn't, you wouldn't have felt so much pain."
When Isabel and Erika finally were close enough to reach out to each other, both of them were incredibly nervous. They were seeing each other for the first time in a year, so they were understandably fearful they would do something to drive the other away.
Erika reached out first, for a handshake, but upon seeing her reach out, Isabel just launched herself at her and wrapped her in a huge hug. The both of them quickly dissolved into tears as all their emotions over the past year ran out of them, both of them repeating desperate apologies to each other, "Es tut mir Leid, es tut mir Leid, es tut mir Leid!"
Michael and Manfred were together, and they both smiled with relief at the sight. Both of them high-fived each other, each of them happy to see their friends resolve their differences and make up finally.
Anna Novat had gotten a look at her twin brother Bruno across the field. She hoped he didn't take her victory personally and treat it as another instance where she showed him up just because. But after getting a reluctant nod from him, she realized that was not the case at all. So she smiled back at him and gave a thumbs-up before mouthing, 'call me whenever you like.' She would be there.
Across the globe, aboard another Japanese school ship that housed Tatenashi Gakuen, two raven-haired adolescent girls saw the scene of the two Hartmann sisters play out on internet livestream. They had minor differences between each other, namely that one had ice blue eyes while the other had emerald green eyes, and the blue-eyed girl had wavy hair, while the green-eyed girl's hair was straight. The green-eyed girl's skin was also a little paler by comparison.
But the biggest thing they had in common right now was watching Isabel and Erika make up. It meant all their work paid off, and they smiled with pride. Officially speaking, the both of them were from Norway, and were transfer students. They landed an interesting pair of dorm mates: two boys, both natives of the land. One was of samurai blood while the other was pretty much a regular student, though athletic. Regardless, the two Norwegian girls knew this would be an interesting experience, to say the least.
Speaking of them, their legal names. The first girl with blue eyes was named Sif Krigsdatter, and the second girl with green eyes was called Hela Helvete.
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Part of Projekt Erika.
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The author does not claim to own "Girls und Panzer," the music used, this interpretation of Sif, Hela, the Infinity Gauntlet, the Infinity Stones, Gamora, Thanos, this interpretation of Odin, this interpretation of the realm of Hel, this interpretation of Loki, this interpretation of the realm of Asgard, Frigga, this interpretation of Thor, Agent Phil Coulson, this interpretation of Surtur, this interpretation of the realm of Nidavellir, this interpretation of the realm of Jötunheim, "Thor: Ragnarök," Valkyrie, the Dragonfang, Steve Rogers, Okoye, Natasha Romanova, Clint Barton, Stephen Strange, Wanda Maximoff, Korg, Sam Wilson, the Redwing, James Rhodes, Shuri, Peter Parker, Hope van Dyne, Bucky Barnes, Miek, Scott Lang, the Stormbreaker, "Avengers: Infinity War," the Godslayer, Peter Quill, Nebula, the Guardians of the Galaxy, the Avengers, Jane Foster, or any other references made. The author does not take credit for the use of the name 'Elspeth,' though the character herself, 'Elspeth Hela Quill,' the author does indeed take credit for.
"Girls und Panzer" belongs to Actas. The music used belongs to Hammerfall. This interpretation of Sif, Hela, the Infinity Gauntlet, the Infinity Stones, Gamora, Thanos, this interpretation of Odin, this interpretation of the realm of Hel, this interpretation of Loki, this interpretation of the realm of Asgard, Frigga, this interpretation of Thor, Agent Phil Coulson, this interpretation of Surtur, this interpretation of the realm of Nidavellir, this interpretation of the realm of Jötunheim, "Thor: Ragnarök," Valkyrie, the Dragonfang, Steve Rogers, Okoye, Natasha Romanova, Clint Barton, Stephen Strange, Wanda Maximoff, Korg, Sam Wilson, the Redwing, James Rhodes, Shuri, Peter Parker, Hope van Dyne, Bucky Barnes, Miek, Scott Lang, the Stormbreaker, "Avengers: Infinity War," the Godslayer, Peter Quill, Nebula, the Guardians of the Galaxy, the Avengers, and Jane Foster all belong to Marvel Studios. Any other references made belong to their respective owners. The use of the name 'Elspeth' was inspired by sharkinterviewee who used it for a few of her Guardians of the Galaxy stories. If you enjoy that fandom, check her out.
Feel free to ask any questions if you have them. Please note, however, that questions asked without being signed in will not be answered. The author would prefer to address questions outside of the story, and leaving questions while signed in provides that ability.
Also, heavy props to you if you read this whole dumpster fire of credits.