The forge of Nidavellir burned brightly, the clang of metal echoing across the vast halls. Eitri and his surviving dwarves worked tirelessly under the Black Order's watchful eyes. Although the Infinity Gauntlet was completed, Thanos ordered them to craft weapons and armor for him and his army. And he put those dwarves to work again while he waited for Odin to take his Odinsleep. He received an insider tip, that Odin would fall asleep within 3 months. Apart from that he has his own plan to fight Odin, after all, he received a deal from the devil.
Thanos stood nearby, his massive frame bathed in the crimson glow of molten metal, lost in thought. The conflicting reports about the Infinity Stones weighed heavily on his mind.
His patience was thinning.
Then, the air in the forge shifted. A cold, unnatural stillness crept over the fires, and the dwarves shuddered as an eerie presence filled the chamber.
From the shadows, he stepped forward.
Cul Borson.
Draped in battle-worn Asgardian armor, his crimson cape billowed slightly as he moved. His face, chiseled and hardened by countless wars, was framed by dark, streaked hair and a beard that marked the passage of ages. His cold blue eyes locked onto the Titan's with quiet amusement.
The dwarves tensed. Even the Black Order hesitated, sensing something unnatural about this newcomer. Thanos, however, did not move.
Ebony Maw tilted his head, his voice like silk. "And who dares intrude upon the presence of the Great Titan?"
Cul smirked. "The rightful heir to Asgard's throne. It's true King. But you already know that, don't you, Maw?"
Thanos finally turned, his gaze meeting Cul's with calculated indifference. "Cul Borson. The Serpent. The god of fear. The records say you died years ago. A dead god walking... It's amusing."
Cul chuckled, stepping closer, fearlessly closing the distance between himself and the Titan. "And you, Thanos. The Mad Titan, destroyer of worlds, dreamer of balance. A shame, really... you're walking straight into your doom."
At this, the Black Order stiffened, but Thanos simply studied him. "Is that so?"
Cul's expression darkened, his voice a low rumble. "You think yourself inevitable, but Asgard waits for you. Odin is no fool. He has been playing the game long before you were even born. Hela, the goddess of death, is at his side. Thor and Loki, for all their faults, are still among the most powerful warriors in the cosmos. And you think your Chitauri, your Black Order, will overcome an entire realm of gods?"
He shook his head, his voice carrying an unsettling certainty. "This is a death trap. Even for you."
For a long moment, Thanos said nothing. His eyes remained locked on Cul's, his mind already calculating.
"I have defeated gods before," Thanos finally said, his voice calm but edged with warning.
Cul smirked. "Perhaps. But this time, you are walking into a battlefield where the gods hold the advantage. And let me tell you something, Titan… Odin does not fight fair."
He stepped even closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "With the Infinity Stones, you might have had a chance. But Asgard holds two of them."
Thanos' fingers twitched slightly.
"Without my help," Cul continued, "you will fail. You will die, and the universe will move on without you."
For the first time in eons, a seed of doubt flickered in Thanos' mind. But he crushed it instantly. "And why would you help me, Borson?"
Cul grinned, stepping back, his presence filling the forge with something sinister. "Because I have my own designs for Asgard. And if Odin falls, there will be… opportunities."
Thanos regarded him, the fires of Nidavellir reflecting in his cold gaze.
"I'm listening."
Cul Borson's smirk faded, replaced by something colder. He paced slowly, letting the silence stretch between himself and Thanos, the flickering forge-light casting ominous shadows across his weathered face. When he spoke, his voice carried the weight of centuries of resentment and rage.
"Do you know what it means to be betrayed, Titan?" Cul's eyes burned with a deep, simmering fury. "To be cast into the darkness, forgotten by history while your brother sits upon a throne that was rightfully yours?"
Thanos watched him with unreadable intensity, saying nothing.
Cul clenched his fists. "I was the firstborn of Borr. The rightful heir to Asgard's throne. But my brother, Odin... he feared me. He feared my power. And so, he waged war upon me."
He exhaled sharply, his voice turning venomous. "Odin and his lapdogs whispered lies, calling me the 'God of Fear'—as if fear were something to be shunned rather than understood. They painted me as a villain, as a threat to their perfect realm. And when I would not bow, Odin did what he always does to those he fears."
Cul's gaze darkened. "He sealed me away. Cast me into imprisonment for thousands of years while he ruled in arrogance. He built his golden kingdom atop my suffering. And now, he calls himself the All-Father."
A bitter laugh escaped his lips, but there was no humor in it.
"But I am free now." His eyes gleamed with malice. "And I will have my vengeance."
Thanos listened, expression unchanged, though he understood the truth behind Cul's words. Odin had always been a conqueror, a master strategist. Thanos had studied the histories of countless civilizations, and Asgard was no exception. Odin's power was undeniable, but his legacy was one of war and deception.
"You seek revenge." Thanos' voice was measured, his piercing gaze unshaken. "And you want me to be your executioner."
Cul Borson grinned.
"Not just an executioner. A destroyer."
He stepped closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "I offer you the means to annihilate Asgard completely. To ensure not a single god walks away from the battlefield. You will not fight them at full strength. You will not wage war on their terms. You will bring ruin. You will unleash Ragnarök."
At that, Thanos finally turned fully toward Cul, his interest piqued. "And how do you propose I do that?"
Cul's smirk returned.
"With these."
He raised his hand, and suddenly, the forge trembled. The shadows around him swirled unnaturally, and from them, three powerful relics emerged, floating before Thanos like offerings of destruction.
The Destroyer Armor. A towering suit of Asgardian metal, its runes pulsing with latent energy, forged to annihilate even the most powerful of foes. Its presence alone made the air grow heavy, as if reality itself recoiled from its raw, untamed power.
The Eternal Flame. A flickering, otherworldly fire, burning with an eerie, unrelenting glow. The flame that could restore the dead, that could breathe life into destruction itself.
Surtur's Crown. The jagged, ancient crown of the fire demon, radiating the very essence of apocalypse. The key to unleashing the full power of Surtur, the entity destined to bring about the fall of Asgard.
The Black Order exchanged uneasy glances, sensing the magnitude of what was being offered. Even Ebony Maw, ever composed, seemed momentarily intrigued.
Thanos stepped forward, his massive hand extending toward the Destroyer Armor. He traced a single finger along its surface, feeling the dormant, immeasurable power within. He then turned his gaze to Cul.
"You wish to see Asgard burn." His voice was deep, calculating. "And from the ashes, you will take the throne."
Cul nodded, his expression turning savage. "Yes. You will destroy everything. And I will reshape what remains into a new Asgard—one without weakness, without mercy. A realm of true strength."
A heavy silence hung in the forge.
"A most... compelling proposition," Thanos mused, his deep voice reverberating through the forge. His expression remained unreadable as he slowly turned back to Cul Borson, who stood a few steps away from him.
Cul grinned, confident that he had swayed the Mad Titan. "Then we have a deal—"
Thanos moved before the words fully left Cul's lips.
He was fast...
His massive hand lashed out, seizing Cul's throat in an unbreakable grip. The suddenness of the assault stunned everyone—Ebony Maw, Corvus Glaive, even the battle-hardened dwarves flinched at the sheer brutality of the moment.
Cul struggled, his Asgardian strength flaring as he grasped at Thanos' wrist, his fingers clawing for release. "You..." he choked, his voice laced with fury and disbelief. "You dare...?"
Thanos' mad grin widened, his deep-set eyes gleaming with something between delight and cruelty. He lifted Cul effortlessly, holding him above the ground.
"You misunderstand, God of Fear," Thanos rumbled, tightening his grip, and slowly crushing Cul's throat. "I do not wage war for thrones. I do not fight for realms. I do not seek power for the sake of ruling."
Cul's face twisted in agony, his eyes bulging as he thrashed violently.
Thanos leaned in, his massive frame looming like a dark colossus. His voice, low and reverent, was not directed at Cul—but to the unseen force that truly drove him.
"I vowed to burn Asgard to the ground and slaughter every god within it," he whispered, his tone almost tender. "Not for conquest... not for vengeance... but for Her."
The Black Order watched in silent awe. They knew who She was.
Mistress Death.
The true love of the Mad Titan.
Thanos' grin stretched wider, almost manic.
"Every soul I take," he murmured, his fingers digging into Cul's flesh, "I offer to Her."
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