"What... should we do now?"
As a seasoned warrior of the Nova Corps, Rhomann Dey had witnessed many legendary "One-Man Army" moments across the cosmos. In fact, Xandar itself had been considering the creation of a prototype soldier modeled after such a mythic archetype.
Yet he’d always believed that so-called "One-Man Armies" had limited impact in a true interstellar war. After all, outside of those godlike beings perched high above the mortal plane, who could truly change the tide of war singlehandedly?
But now, Rhomann Dey realized he was dead wrong.
And not just wrong, catastrophically, laughably wrong.
Even ignoring the portion of the Cosmic Syndicate forces that had been intercepted by Hela, the part that had been obliterated by Lothar alone... according to the Planetary Observatory’s telescope estimates, the casualties were equivalent to five full elite legions of the Kree Empire!
Do people even understand what five elite legions of the Kree Empire means?
To put it plainly, just one of those legions could effortlessly invade and conquer a technologically advanced planet.
Three such legions would be more than enough to subjugate even the most fortified civilizations.
It was this fearsome military might that had allowed the Kree Empire to momentarily surpass the Skrull Empire and rise to become one of the most dominant imperial powers in the galaxy.
Xandar had been able to endure this long against the Kree not just because the Nova Corps was powerful, but also due to the Kree’s ongoing two-front war, with the Skrulls constantly pulling at their attention and forces.
Caught between these two giants, Xandar had managed to thrive on grit, tech, and no small amount of luck.
Five full Kree legions, decimated in under three minutes!?
Was the Cosmic Syndicate just that weak, or was Lothar simply that strong?
Even if the Syndicate was underwhelming, the warships and personnel equaling five full legions weren’t illusions, they were real, measurable forces.
And yet, under Lothar’s hand, they didn’t last even three minutes.
Doesn’t that mean that if he really wanted to, Lothar could annihilate an entire advanced planetary civilization in under three minutes?
That thought alone sent a cold shiver down Rhomann Dey’s spine.
Then he remembered: Three minutes ago, Xandar’s planetary defense systems had fired on Lothar.
"Send the alert! Everyone on the planet, initiate full emergency evacuation protocol!"
Nova Empress-to-be, Nova Prime, clearly realized the same thing. Without hesitation, she issued a global emergency evacuation order.
Judging from Lothar’s current behavior, heading off to deal with yet another Cosmic Syndicate division, it was impossible to say for sure he wouldn’t retaliate against Xandar.
And if he did, based on what he’d just demonstrated, Xandar wouldn’t stand a chance.
The only hypothetical option would be to detonate the planet’s core in a suicidal final strike, but that was an outcome Nova Prime would never accept.
She was Xandar’s future leader. Her duty was to ensure this planet had a future, not to bury every living soul beneath it, herself included.
But could their vaunted planetary defense system actually do anything?
As Xandar’s acting leader, Nova Prime had always taken pride in their shield network, but now, she was starting to doubt it.
Could it really stop Lothar?
And if it couldn’t... then what?
Somewhere in the boundless void of space, standing atop the broken husks of warships, Lothar slowly exhaled. His eyes, predatory and bloodthirsty, shifted toward Hela’s location.
There, another division of the Cosmic Syndicate was waiting to be purged.
But unlike Lothar’s overwhelming performance, Hela, whose raw power was admittedly inferior, was clearly struggling to match his storm-like momentum against the massive Skrull fleet.
She looked far more battered in comparison.
Standing on alien soil, far from Asgard and its endless stream of magic, she had only her own reserves to draw from. Doing what Lothar had done? That was pure fantasy.
Yet even so, Hela managed.
Alone, she delayed the retreat of the enemy fleet, her endless barrage of conjured weapons frustrating the Skrull commanders to no end.
At the three-minute mark, a golden-haired figure streaked onto the battlefield as promised. Blazing orbs of energy dense enough to appear solid exploded through the blockade, blasting one ship after another from the stars.
His arm slipped around Hela’s slender waist, yanking her free from the encroaching crossfire like a meteor descending from the heavens.
Hela arched an eyebrow, surprised. "Was that... praise?"
The sun must’ve risen in the south of Asgard today. For the first time, Lothar, whose mouth usually only served to piss her off, had actually acknowledged her effort?
"No," Lothar replied flatly, his energy shield flickering as enemy fire peppered his defenses.
"Soft?" Hela shot back, deadpan.
"If you’re done groping me, let go."
And the next moment, Lothar flung her unceremoniously away by the arm.
Catching herself midair, Hela wanted to swear at him, but twenty years of royal Asgardian etiquette kept her mouth shut. Otherwise, she would’ve taught this man a thing or two about the art of insult.
Amidst the stunned eyes of countless Skrull soldiers, a roaring tide of energy surged forth, an unstoppable current engulfing the panicked armada.
Behind Lothar, fire bloomed into the void like golden fireworks, each spark painting his hair with ethereal brilliance.
Hela crossed her arms, scoffing audibly. Yet even as she sneered, that golden-haired figure, like some celestial war god, burned itself into her memory, refusing to fade.
"Prince Lothar, gene analysis is complete."
"The ones who attacked you weren’t from the Cosmic Syndicate."
Piloting a battle-damaged ship with two engines out, the AI Woz reported its findings after scanning the battlefield corpses.
Both factions had been masquerading as Syndicate forces.
Hela looked puzzled, her gaze drifting to Lothar.
The two biggest galactic empires had both dispatched fleets to hunt him down?
"That’s... thrilling," she muttered, warily. "What the hell did you do to them?"
Recalling the wall of firepower from just minutes ago, even Hela felt a twinge of unease, and an undeniable curiosity.
"Thrilling?" Lothar gave her a sidelong glance and chose silence.
"Based on facial recognition," Woz continued, "preliminary analysis suggests the Kree fleet may have been sent due to Lothar having killed the father of a Supreme Accuser. As for the Skrull... we lack sufficient data."
"...Oh," Hela said quietly.
A blood feud. That explains it.
Wait, did that mean she had been treated as some kind of optional bonus? A casualty thrown in for free?
The realization struck her like lightning.
"In a certain sense, your assessment is correct, Miss Hela," Woz said evenly, confirming her worst suspicion.
"...Hey, Hela," Lothar said suddenly, his voice casually amused. "Do you like thrills?"
Hela, still recovering from her mental faceplant, gave him a sharp glare. "What?"
"Wanna go visit Hala, the Kree homeworld?"
A mischievous grin spread across his face like wildfire.
"You’re insane. That place is—" Hela’s voice caught. Mid-sentence, her eyes widened.
She understood what he was thinking.
"...Interesting." Biting her lip, her heart skipped a beat.
"What about the Skrulls?" she asked.
"You up for it?" Lothar’s brow rose in surprise.
"Of course," Hela smirked coldly. "As agents of the Cosmic Syndicate."
Her eyes glinted with deadly light.
If you’re going to chase the thrill, then chase it all the way.
After all, she wasn’t called Asgard’s Goddess of Death for nothing, and it wasn’t just because of her divine lineage.
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