Titanomachy Chapter 31: Not a Place, an Avengers + Worm Crossover fanfic

A/N: Chap 30 review responses are in my forums like normal. And with this chapter, we wrap up Part II and start into the final arc of Titanomachy. Thank you all for reading and reviewing.

Chapter Thirty-One: Not a Place…

The massive wormhole deposited Taylor within sight of Asgard. At first she couldn't believe what the gleaming white object ahead of her was. The ship's sensor suite struggled to understand the complex magnetic fields that surrounded the supernatural nature of the island realm.

But as she flew closer, she could see the massive crystalline base-the marrow of Ymir's bones that supported the realm-and realized she was exactly where she wanted to be. Was this because the Wormhole was permanently connected to Asgard space, or because it responded to her desire somehow?

When she scanned behind her, she could find no trace of the wormhole.

She waited for a hail or acknowledgment from Heimdall, only to remember he no longer served his post. Even if he was gone, though, someone should have contacted her. Surely with the recent attacks by the Dark Elves and Loki's assassins, Asgard would be more conscious of outside threats.

No signals came. The city at the heart of the realm looked peaceful enough, though she was sad to see that some of the recent scars from battles hadn't been rebuilt yet. She found this odd as well. But then, everything following Frigga's and Freyr's deaths was odd. Had the Allfather gone insane in his grief?

It was instinct, more than conscious thought, that led her to bank the ship away from the main entry over the realm. Instead, she flew below the horizon and around the planetoid island.

As planets went, Asgard was nothing more than a speck of dust. The entire realm was smaller than most US states, and in open space in a powerful ship it took only minutes to circumscribe the entire realm. From the far side away from the bifrost, she saw below familiar mountains, and set in their cradled rocky hands, the valley where she spent her many months with Buri.

She received no challenge as she brought the ship through the atmospheric envelope of the realm. After flying around the valley, she brought the ship down in the open field in front of the ruins where Buri made his home.

She couldn't see the tower.

Taylor left the ship at a quick jog until she reached the outskirts of the ruins and stared in dismay. All that remained of Buri's tower was a trail of fallen stone that had collapsed through the sheep pen. She could see bundles of bloodied wool to mark where at least some of the animals failed to escape.

The other pens were open, though she could see the rotted remains of other animals slaughtered without reason. The barn where she fashioned her clothes was not just burned down, but flattened as if by a giant fist or concussive force. All around, she saw the unmistakable signs of violence.

"He was millions of years old," Taylor whispered to herself. "He crafted Asgard itself. What could kill him?"

"He crafted Asgard with the aid of the Tesseract," a deep, powerful voice called behind her. "And it was the Tesseract that finally killed him, I must presume."

Taylor spun around. "Heimdall!" She spoke his name as she exhaled, astonished to see him in leather and wool, but no armor.

Another thought occurred, and her eyes stung. "Oh, Heimdall. Gna…."

"I know." His deep voice sounded ragged with grief and stress. "I've been waiting for you. This is the one place not even my eyes could see, so we are safe for a time. Come. I have food. We can talk."

She had so many questions, but from the defeated slump of his shoulders, she knew this wasn't the time. She followed after him through the broken farmstead. Her eyes lingered on the shattered tower. Within the carved stones, she couldn't see any sign of the library or kitchen or anything else that had filled it and made it her home for six months.

Heimdall led her across the tower to one of the older ruins-a sheltered corner of intricately carved stone worn down by the ages to monoliths arranged in a partial hut. He'd added a tarp for additional shelter against the afternoon rain that came like clockwork every day. Within, he had Buri's iron cauldron bubbling with a lamb stew over the fire. He also had company.

The girl-she looked only a few years older than Taylor-rose to her feet awkwardly. She was definitely not Asgardian, but it was her armor more than anything that made Taylor sure that she looked at an outsider. While it was intentionally generic, the armor bore enough similarities to the unmarked armor used by some of Thanos' Kree mercenaries to make her suspicious. The smudge of blue blood under her hairline made Taylor even more sure.

"Why is there a Kree here, Heimdall?"

"I'm not Kree!" the woman declared.

She spoke American English with a slight Valley-girl accent.

"I thought you, Telos, of all people, would understand the plight of a powered individual enslaved to be a weapon."

Taylor blinked at Heimdall, then the woman. "Heimdall, was she a part of…?"

"Yes. I watched from the Rainbow Bridge, but was too far away to intervene. It was Loki and one of Thanos' get who led them, but it was Loki who betrayed and slaughtered her kin. Look at her neck, Telos."

Taylor forced down her anger when she saw the dread and guilt on the young woman's face. She lifted her chin and made no move to run as Taylor stepped toward her. "I won't hurt you," she said, making the decision there and then.

The woman said nothing, but made no move to stop as Taylor reached behind her head until she felt the hateful, familiar metal of a slave chip. "How did you get this?"

"A Nazi group on earth made a deal to capture Inhumans and sell them to the Kree."

"Inhuman?"

"The Kree tinkered with humans millenia ago," Heimdall explained. "The Allfather put a stop to it, but many on earth carry inhuman genes. The Kree recently discovered these inhumans can make powerful soldiers. This one's team overcame both Freyr and Freya, no mean feat for mortals. This one is like your Vers in many ways. She bleeds blue because the Kree wished her to. I do not hold her to account. It was Loki, then as now."

Heimdall motioned to the stones they'd been using as benches. "No bread, I'm afraid," he said as he handed Taylor a wooden bowl to scoop up the soup. "The hand mill broke, and I never had the knack of it."

"Thank you."

Despite everything, she ate. The shallow wooden spoon served more as a scoop than anything else. Heimdall ate as well with the gusto of one long-removed from food, while their guest nervously picked at the offering, as if unsure of her status.

When Heimdall was done he put the bowl down and took a deep breath. "My niece refused to lend me her eyes at the end," Heimdall said. "With my own sons lost to battle, she knew she was my heir, and did not wish me to see her end. Tell me how Gna of Asgard died."

As painful as the memory was, Taylor recounted every moment of their tale, from Knowhere to Sakaar. "The Grandmaster murdered her," she said at the end. The pain was not even a day old and made her throat burn. "Out of boredom. He just said, 'Why not?' First Sif, and then..." Though she tried to control herself, her voice hitched. "She called me sister, and she meant it. But I couldn't save her."

Through stinging eyes, she looked to see Heimdall's pained, ragged expression. He bowed his head, whether in prayer or to hide his pain she couldn't say. When he reached out a solitary hand, she lost all control as she gripped it and wept. She'd said perhaps a dozen words to the man, but in that moment they might as well have been family.

The fire crackled and popped loudly. Heimdall straightened and took a long, powerful breath. Though his cheeks glistened, he did not sob. Instead, he spoke.

"In his youth, Odin felt stifled by his father's greater power. Bors was feared and respected among the whole cosmos for his strength, and beloved for his character. Raised in the shadow of his father Bors, Odin thirsted to prove himself equal to those who came before. And into the royal palace came one who would lead him down that path.

"Jord was a striking woman, tall, powerful and with a beauty to blind weaker men. She was cold, though, like a Jotun. Ambitious. Blinded by her beauty and his own ambition, Odin took her to wife regardless of her cruelty. Jord delivered unto Odin a girl child and whispered into the prince's ear. Influenced by his wife's counsel, Odin decided he did not want his own children to be lesser than he, as he was lesser than Bors. And so he did the unthinkable. He wove his child's soul into the Eternal Flame of Asgard itself."

Despite her pain and the confusion of why he was telling her this, Taylor's breath caught in throat. "But won't that…?"

Golden eyes regarded her intently. "No one knows for sure how Bors died. He was in the Borssleep, regaining strength, when he simply died. It was whispered Jord played a role. Regardless, Odin took the throne, and by his side was his only child Hela. Flush with the crown, Odin decided that all the Realms would be one. Many realms agreed, but some did not."

"The Vanir."

He nodded. "Cousins, brothers and sisters to the Aesir of Asgard. It was a civil war, brought about by Odin's own greed and the cruelty of his wife and daughter. The war raged for centuries across the realms, until finally Asgard's forces cornered the Vanir army on Vanaheim itself. Njord still sat as king, with Freyr as the crown prince and his sister Freya and her husband Odr his counselors. And it was Freya and Odr's son, Baldur, who led their armies. With Buri's staff in his hands and a powerful runic blessing from his mother, Baldur challenged Odin himself. But it was Hela who answered the challenge."

"Were you there?" Taylor whispered.

"My father was," Heimdall said. "Because of the magic we possess, he showed me what his eyes beheld. Baldur was beautiful-a shining beacon of all we could hope to be. Powerful in a way Prince Thor could only strive for. But Hela carried the Eternal Flame in her soul. It powered her in a way that should not have been possible."

"She killed him?"

"She violated him," Heimdall spat. "She taunted and insulted him as she tore his magical protections apart. She normally wielded Mjolnir, but for that battle she commissioned Misteltein specifically to kill this man. For all Baldur's courage and strength, Hela was death personified. It was not enough that she defeated him-she humiliated him before his army and family. She dismembered him, and blinded him. Words are not enough to describe the perversities she took with him as he lay dying. And when he took his last breath, she unmanned his corpse and threw the member at Freya's feet and then slew her husband before the army surged and forced the beast back. She laughed as she rode away."

"Why?"

"Because, in her arrogance and power, she saw no one else as equal. The people around her were nothing but things, and what value do things have?"

She understood, then. "Like the Grandmaster."

He nodded. "Just so. Baldur's sacrifice did accomplish something, though. It is an ancient sacrament to die for one's people. The power of his sacrifice shattered Odin's greed. It shattered the blinds that held the Allfather to his path, and made him realize the horror he loosed upon the realms. It was then that he threw Hela down and imprisoned her in Helheim, though it cost all his Valkyries and Jord herself to do so. And in time he sued for peace and gave Hela's blade to Freya. They wed as part of the treaty. Through Baldur's death, Odin was reborn as the king you know. But still he has carried his great sin throughout the years. The seeds of Asgard's undoing were sown by Odin himself, and with his end those seeds will blossom in fire."

He pointed up, and to the left. She followed his finger, but saw only distant stars beyond the blue envelope of Asgard's sky. "The Allfather is there. He sits in a chair in a dilapidated building on Midgard. He's already broken Loki's enchantment, and understands that his son has betrayed him and cast him out, just as his first wife betrayed and murdered his father. He knows it was by his son's machinations that his beloved Frigga is no more, and that his son Thor has been sent on an impossible quest to find the very villain who sent him. But all he cares about is that when he draws his last breath, Hela will be free and Asgard will die."

The meaning of his words seemed impossible. How could Loki have won? He was imprisoned and surrounded by champions.

"The people are pleased with this new Odin," Heimdall continued. "He showers them with gifts and gold, and they think it has value. He puts on spectacles and plays to distract them from the failing infrastructure of the realm. He has vilified Asgard's heroes as traitors to concentrate any unhappy thoughts. He has shrunk the ranks of the Einharjar and no longer defends the realms. And so the short-sighted leave work untended and enjoy themselves, while the elder look around and wonder how this could be. Some, like me, realize that Ragnarok is nigh."

"Heimdall, how could Loki win?"

"Loki won because the people of Asgard let him, and those who would speak against him are dead or distracted. That is all it ever takes for evil to prevail, for good people to do nothing. Even those on Midgard know such truth."

"Buri knew so much," she whispered to herself. "His Library alone...so much is lost."

For the first time, Heimdall actually snorted with a half laugh. "Telos, child, have you even looked inside the satchel he gave you?"

"What? It was just…" She pulled the satchel around her shoulder to rest on her lap. She'd kept it with her even through her brief battle with Bi-Beast. When she opened it up, she could only gasp. Looking within, she experienced an illusion caused by dimensional warping. All the books from Buri's library were there.

"There is one fundamental truth that Buri knew that his descendents still struggle with," Heimdall said softly. "Asgard is not just a place, it is a people. It is a culture, and knowledge. It is the sound of laughter and the depth of grief. It is mothers and fathers, sons and daughters, and the hope of better days ahead. You are new to the tapestry, but of all of us Buri and Odin both knew you would have a role to play the moment you came to this realm."

"I don't understand."

"Asgard will fall. It is inevitable. But its people could yet survive. Will you help?"

"Of course," Taylor said. She didn't hesitate. With Gna's and Sif's sacrifice so fresh in her mind, the thought of not helping was unbearable. "What must I do?"

"Return to Midgard," Heimdall said. "Seek out the Allfather, and with him, find a worthy place to house our people for the end."

This entire time, the Human-Kree hybrid sat holding an empty wooden bowl and listening, enraptured. Heimdall glanced at her. "Though, it seems if you are to return to Midgard, you could return with all of its missing children, yes?"

The woman blinked, but Taylor understood. "The ship I have doesn't possess warp capability, and we're nine months away from any jump point."

"I can assist with that," Heimdall said with a suddenly predatory smile. "If I am a traitor, why not betray those who hunt me? Go and prepare the bifrost, I will bring your ship and Miss Johnson. Then I can send you both on your way."

~~Titanomachy~~

When she stepped through the portal of dark energy into the Himinbjorg, she found Skurge sitting on the raised dais, chin in his hands, staring with a blank expression at the far wall. He wore personalized Einherjar armor he obviously took care of, and had tattooed fearsome runes on his shaved head, but in that moment he looked like a lost, lonely boy.

He didn't notice her at first, not until she walked close enough to enter his peripheral vision. He instantly sat up, and that blank, lost look was replaced by a smirk. The smirk turned immediately to a frown. "When did you get back? I mean, how'd you get back?"

Taylor drew Misteltein. "Gna called for the Bifrost. She called, and was refused, and because of that, she and Sif are dead. She called for the Bifrost, Skurge, and you refused to open it."

Rather than reach for the sword at his hip, the man held out both hands and stepped back. "Now, let's not be too hasty, here!"

"My sisters are dead because you refused to open the Bifrost, Skurge. I think we're beyond haste."

"I wasn't me!" The man shook his head. "You think I wanted them two dead? Hot girls like that? I mean...that Gna, what a beaut! The Allfather said. After you three left, he said I couldn't open the Bifrost for you. Said you three was traitors. Didn't mean to get no one killed! I took the job 'cause it was important, yeah? But all I do is sit 'cause the Allfather won't let anyone leave."

Taylor could no longer see the truth of people. This new Asgardian magic Buri taught her was not spiritual at all. It was nothing less than the manipulation of energy. But as she stared at this man, who by Asgardian terms was a young yokel, she knew in her gut he spoke the truth. As Heimdall said, Loki won by removing those who would speak against him. And Lady Sif, more than anyone, would be a threat to the realm.

"The Allfather is not who you think," she said.

Skurge deflated in front of her. His shoulders slumped, and he just looked defeated. "Yeah, figured that part out myself, I did. Not much to do about it."

"Open the Bifrost, Skurge. I'm leaving."

"He'll kill me if I do."

Taylor sheathed her sword. "Face or stomach?"

"What?"

"Face it is, then."

As fast as Asgardians were, she was faster, and despite his training Skurge wasn't very good. He had only a moment to register alarm before she crossed the space in a blur and punched him. She held back and didn't follow through, not wanting to kill a pawn, but the blow decked him and left him insensate.

"I wonder if anyone will even notice," she muttered.

On the rainbow bridge, she saw the stolen Sakaaran ship settle down smoothly, as if Heimdall had been piloting it his whole life. He stepped out and strode toward her, pausing only long enough to pull his great blade Hofang from among a pile of rubbish that looked as if Skurge had been using the Bifrost to steal things.

"Position your ship in front of the Bifrost," Heimdall said.

Taylor found the will to grin. "So you can send ships through the Bifrost."

Heimdall laughed. "Child, a thousand years ago I sent whole legions through the Bifrost. What is a ship to the sum of all Einharjar? Now go, I don't have much time."

Taylor went. She found her guest in the co-pilot's seat, looking at the controls with a mystified expression. Taylor sat, sealed the vehicle and had them drifting around the great domed observatory. As she brought the ship to a hover opposite where they were seconds before, she could see a pair of Asgardian skiffs flying toward them from the city.

Heimdall did not care as he slid Hofang home into the cradle that controlled the dark energy of the rainbow bridge. The moment it did, the vast, intricate machinery of the Himinbjorg itself brought the focusing lens down.

Taylor gripped the flight control stick and spun the ship around to face the heavens beyond. "Hang on," she said.

A moment later, rainbow light bathed their ship, and sent them hurtling through the cosmos.

~~Titanomachy~~

"What's your name?"

The question started Taylor from her concentration. She glanced up at the young woman seated beside her. "On Earth, it was Taylor Hebert. You?"

"I...Daisy. Daisy Johnson. Are those...are you an inhuman? I mean, the wings. I know terragenesis can have some pretty strange effects on us. Heimdall made it sound like you were enslaved like I was. How'd you escape?"

The woman sounded nervous.

"A more powerful woman ripped my slave chip out," Taylor admitted.

Daisy blinked, her lips parted in a silent "Oh." "I...I don't know a lot about Kree technology, but I'm pretty sure if someone ripped out my implant I'd die."

"I was never human; I could handle it. Though I didn't get my memories back until later, with Asgard's help." She turned her attention back to the computer's navigation. She finally detected the Universal Neural Teleportation Network signal, and with that signal was able to place the ship just outside the outer fringe of the Magellanic Galaxy-the core of the Kree Empire.

"So...if you were never human, but you're from Earth, what are you?"

She shrugged. "Just your typical girl with wings. Can you tell me where the other inhumans are?"

Daisy didn't appear satisfied with Taylor's answer, but pushed it aside in the interest of their mission. "I couldn't tell you where it was, but the Kree called the planet Secundus Orbarii."

A second's data entry produced an exquisitely detailed hologram of the galaxy, which was still too close to be discernible as such outside the canopy. The hologram dropped down into smaller sectors until it identified a system on the far edge of the galaxy. Two terrestrial planets and four gas giants, with a dense asteroid belt.

"Wait a second. Wait a second! Is this another whole galaxy? How far away are we from Earth?"

"It's a satellite galaxy of the Milky Way," Taylor said, having studied it while under Ebony Maw's tutelage. "We're roughly a hundred and fifty-eight thousand light years from earth. The Nova Empire is actually in the Andromeda galaxy. One of the Nine Realms of Asgard is located in the remnants of one of the first, oldest galaxies to ever form."

"Wow."

"So, tell me about Secondus Obarii. What do you think is the best way to save your fellow inhumans?"

"Buy us, I guess," Daisy said. "I mean, we're slaves. Ion...I mean, Lincoln told me he heard Taryon, our owner, mention that Inhuman battle slaves were worth almost ten thousand Units each. With my team dead, there'd be maybe forty-nine or so left."

Taylor was expecting suggestions for full frontal assaults or orbital insertions. It never dawned on her to just walk in and try to buy the slaves. "That's...a really good idea."

"But do you have half a million Units? Each unit's worth like a hundred dollars or something, right?"

"Let's see."

Sakaar's economy ran on Units, having extensive trade. She entered the Grandmaster's disgusting personal code, and bit back a smile when she saw the number. "Daisy, I think we're going to get you and your friends home."

~~Titanomachy~~

The moment she brought the Grandmaster's vessel through the jump point, the scanners began alerting her to weapons locking on. Her own ship's scanners and her eyes spotted multiple defensive satellites pointing everything from heavy plasma cannons to missiles at their lone vessel.

"Sakarran vessel, this is a secure location. Identify yourself or be fired upon."

Taylor thumbed her ring and cast an illusion-one that made Daisy bite back a yelp of surprise when Taylor suddenly became an old, wingless, wide-bodied woman in face paint and clunky bright armor. She activated the communication relay to reveal a thick-bodied blue Kree. "I am Topaz of Sakaar. I speak for the Grandmaster, who has desire for new battle slaves. I have been authorized to pay top price for quality contestants."

The mention of price alone bought them safe passage to the planet. Daisy pulled her helmet back on, geared up, and prepared herself as the planetary traffic controller directly Taylor to a large training camp on the outskirts of the second largest settlement on the second terrestrial planet.

The Kree who met them wore white face paint in a triangular shape on his broad forehead, denoting noble rank. He wore a cloth-of-gold overcoat lined in rubies over Agulla-silken slacks and a blouse. He was accompanied by two large, bulking Kree guards.

"Welcome!" he said with a genteel bow. "I am Taryan of House Kassius. It is an honor to speak with a representative of such an ancient and august buyer."

"Yes." Taylor found it disturbingly easy to copy Topaz's abrupt mannerisms. She pointed to Daisy. "This one fell to Sakaar. The Grandmaster is intrigued, and wishes more like her."

Taryon raised one elegant brow. Beside him, one of the bald brutes shouted. "Slave, report status!"

The answer seemed to be ripped out of Daisy, as if she could not resist. "Quake, 60% combat effective. Two broken ribs."

"Status of your party?"

"Deceased. Mission failure due to employer duplicity."

Taryon quirked a smile. "Not a surprise, really. But then again, we still got paid. Well, my dear Topaz, you and your master are in luck! We have several more where dear Quake came from. Come, let me show you."

Only forty inhumans remained. Taryon explained that with a pending peace treaty between the Nova and Kree Empires, he was willing to make a deal. Only twenty-thousand per unit, including all weapons.

In this one case, Taylor and Topaz would have had the same response. "Nonsense. The Grandmaster is no fool. Five thousand each, no more."

They settled on ten thousand units. That came with the slaves, armaments, the master slave controller and even an old Kree military troop transport that looked vaguely like the body of a large helicopter wrapped around a cargo container. Taylor gladly stole the Grandmaster's money to free the human slaves.

"Quake, join them," Taylor ordered in Topaz's sharp bark. Taryan handed over the controller once his assistants confirmed the transfer of units.

"It was a pleasure doing business with you," the Kree said with an oily smile.

"If they do well in the Contest of Champions, we may wish for more."

The man feigned a frown. "Sadly, our supply line has dried up. But we'll make sure to let you know if more become available. In the meantime, we'll be glad to safeguard your ship until your merchandise is delivered."

"Good." With that, Taylor led her forty-one slaves, including Daisy Johnson, to the military transport. The slaves each sought out the cradles that lined the ship until all were secure. She herself settled into the pilot's seat and quickly went over the layout-like so many other ships it followed the Kree layout.

The ship was powerful enough that they made orbit in mere minutes, and shortly after that made their first jump to Earth.