Marvel x Genshin: Mavuika, The Sun Goddess Rules Asgard — Chapter 27

Chapter 27: The Darkness After Victory

Below, countless citizens flooded the streets, squares, and rooftops, waving flags and flowers, their cheers surging into the sky like a tidal wave.

Every Asgardian’s face was filled with genuine pride.

Conquering the Nine Realms and achieving an unprecedented unification was an epic worthy of being sung for eternity.

And they were the witnesses, participants, and creators of this epic.

Hela strode over from the adjacent cabin, the quiet click of her boots a stark contrast to the roaring celebration outside. She had changed into a clean, dark-green battle robe, the fabric practical yet elegant. Her lustrous, night-black hair was pulled back into a neat, severe horsetail, and the grievous burns that had marred her face and body had vanished completely under Mavuika’s gentle application of restorative fire. Even so, her features held a distinct pallor, a deep-seated exhaustion that even divine healing could not fully erase—a clear sign of the immense divine power she had expended.

“Sister, what has you lost in thought?” Hela asked, her voice a low murmur as she leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over her chest. “Get ready to accept the adulation of the masses. I heard Father has already commanded the grandest victory banquet in Asgard’s history to be held at the Starry Sky Temple. They say the wine prepared will fill three entire cellars.”

Mavuika turned from the viewport, a warm smile gracing her lips as she looked at her younger sister. “Then you had best exercise some restraint. We wouldn’t want a repeat of the last victory feast in Vanaheim, where you drank King Eitri of the Dwarves completely under the table.”

“That was hardly my fault. The man simply can’t hold his drink,” Hela retorted with a slight pout, though the corner of her lip twitched with a ghost of a smile at the memory.

She walked to Mavuika’s side, peering through the porthole at the seething golden capital below. Her dark green eyes reflected the brilliant light of glory, yet behind that fiery reflection lurked a shadow of something she couldn’t name… an unnerving emptiness. The great war was over. The Nine Realms were united under Asgard’s banner. Her purpose, her entire life’s focus, had been fulfilled.

*And now? What comes next?*

The thought flashed through her mind like a shard of ice before she forcibly suppressed it. Now was not the time for such contemplation.

The fleet began its graceful descent toward the dedicated port just outside the Golden Palace. When the main ship’s hatch hissed open and Odin, clad in his golden battle armor, stepped out first, the cheers of all Asgard reached a deafening crescendo.

“Long live the Allfather!”

“Long live Asgard!”

“Glory to the Sun Goddess! Glory to the Goddess of Death!”

Odin raised Gungnir, the Eternal Spear, and his golden divine power spread out like tranquil ripples across the city, carrying his voice to every corner. “People of Asgard! Today, we return in triumph! Today, the Nine Realms are one! This is the will of the cosmos, the glory earned by our warriors, and the proof of Asgard’s eternal, unbreakable radiance!”

The subsequent roar of approval was powerful enough to shake the very foundations of the city.

Mavuika and Hela followed their father down the gangway, their presence igniting an even more fanatical wave of shouts from the crowd. The Valkyrie Legion, led by the formidable Brynhildr, saluted in perfect, gleaming unison. Hela’s Death Guard warriors did not cheer; instead, they began striking their heavy shields with the flats of their battle-axes, creating a rhythmic, thunderous war beat that echoed like the heart of Asgard itself.

Mavuika smiled warmly and waved to the masses. A gentle, non-scorching halo of golden light emanated from her palms, sprinkling down like soft rain over the families who had lost loved ones in the long war, bringing a moment of peace to their grieving hearts.

Hela merely offered a crisp nod, her sharp gaze sweeping across the adoring crowd before finally settling on the distant training grounds. There, young aspirants were watching her with eyes full of worship, clutching wooden training swords and clumsily imitating her iconic combat stances. A rare, almost imperceptible smile touched her lips.

Odin turned to his two daughters, his regal voice softening with fatherly concern. “You both expended a great deal in this final battle. Hela, your injuries have just healed, and Mavuika, you also require time to fully integrate this new power.”

He continued, “We shall delay the victory banquet for a few days, until every warrior is rested, until the wine is aged to perfection, and until the runes of the Starry Sky Temple are calibrated to their absolute brightest. Then, and only then, will we celebrate this unprecedented glory.” He patted Mavuika’s shoulder gently before looking at Hela. “Now, go and rest. And be sure to see your mother. She has undoubtedly been worrying about you both this entire time.”

At the mention of Frigga, the hard edges in Hela’s eyes softened, and Mavuika’s smile grew more genuine.

“Yes, Father, that was our plan,” Mavuika affirmed. “First, we’ll go and assure Mother that we are safe, and then we’ll check to see if little Thor and little Loki have been behaving themselves.”

Hela rolled her eyes slightly at the mention of her youngest brother. Her bond with Loki was not nearly as close as Mavuika’s, but she wisely held her tongue. When it came to their mother, Hela missed Frigga just as much as her sister did.

The three were about to go their separate ways when Mavuika suddenly froze.

“What is it?” Hela asked, noticing the abrupt change in her sister’s demeanor.

Mavuika’s brow furrowed, her gaze lifting to the heavens. A subtle disquiet pricked at the edges of her senses, a faint dissonance in the cosmic harmony she was now so attuned to. “Something… feels wrong,” she whispered, the words almost lost in the festive air.

Hela followed her sister’s gaze, her dark green eyes scanning the clear blue sky, the drifting white clouds, and the eternally bright Asgardian sun. Everything appeared just as it always had.

“Sister, you’re simply too tense,” Hela said, her voice reassuring. “It’s always like this after a long campaign. Come, Mother must be growing impatient.”

Mavuika nodded, attempting to suppress the strange unease coiling in her gut. She told herself it was likely just a side effect of her recent surge in power, a form of hypersensitivity. She turned, about to take a step toward the palace—

A shadow descended.

It was not the gentle, creeping shadow of a passing cloud. This was an abrupt, violent, and massive stain, as if a careless god had spilled a vat of thick, black ink across the canvas of the sky.

The golden light of Asgard dimmed instantly. The temperature plummeted. The thunderous cheers died in a collective gasp as every soul in the capital instinctively looked up.

Then, they saw it.

A ship.

No, to call it a “ship” was a profound understatement. It was a mobile fortress, a floating mountain range of jagged, black metal. Its shape was bizarre and menacing: a colossal, sharp-edged T-shape constructed from a matte, dark alloy that seemed to devour all light. Its entire surface bristled with hideous spikes and the gaping muzzles of cannons that pulsed with a sickening, dark purple energy.

The vessel was so incomprehensibly large that it blotted out half of Asgard’s sky, the shadow it cast completely enveloping the Golden Palace, the spaceport, and nearly half of the capital city.

More terrifying still, it did not appear alone.

The moment the first behemoth fully materialized, the space around it tore open like a rotting curtain, and from these fresh wounds in reality surged a second ship, then a third, and then countless more.

They were like a swarm of locusts crawling out of the abyss, swarming out from the cracks in space, each one as massive as a small mountain, each one as silent as a tombstone.

They quickly dispersed, forming a containment net, shrouding all of Asgard in shadow.

The sheer number of them almost filled every inch of the sky within sight.

The sunlight was completely blocked.

Asgard fell from daylight into dusk, and from dusk into a gloom that was almost night.

Only the dark purple light of the runes on the surface of the warships and the charging cannon muzzles flickered in the shadows like the eyes of evil spirits.

Dead silence.

Absolute, dead silence enveloped the entire city.

Cheers froze on faces, smiles stiffened on lips, and even the wind stopped flowing.

“Malekith…” Odin’s voice was as low as muffled thunder, every word carrying suppressed rage.

“It’s the Dark Elves’ fleet!”

Mavuika and Hela’s expressions changed drastically at the same time.

Of course they recognized it.

When they conquered Svartalfheim three years ago, they had fought against the Dark Elves.

Those races living in the shadows, skilled in space magic and stealth technology, had once been one of the most troublesome enemies in the Nine Realms.

Asgard had paid a considerable price to defeat them and force them to submit.

But the scale before them far exceeded that of three years ago; this was no longer just a fleet, but an army of annihilation, mobilized in full force.