The spectral green flame kindled the life-force of the slumbering Einherjar. Souls that had long since plunged into the dark abyss returned once more at the summons of the Goddess of Death, rising anew as the dead.
In their desiccated eye sockets, ghastly green flames flickered like ghostly pupils, radiating a bone-deep chill.
These were the warriors who had once laid down their lives for Asgard's imperial glory. Now they marched with heavy, measured steps, blowing horns that shook the heavens, poised at any moment to hurl themselves upon the enemy in one more fearless charge.
The legion of Einherjar, armored and spear-wielding, surged upward from the depths like a black tide, pouring from the throne room to tear these insolent intruders limb from limb.
"If you told them right now that you're the son of Odin, prince of Asgard and rightful heir to the throne, do you suppose these heroic souls might let us pass?" Sean asked Thor, glancing back over his shoulder at the dark, cloud-like army of warriors.
These fallen soldiers, whose bodies had been laid to rest in the Hall of the Slain, had been reawakened by the power of the Eternal Flame. They now answered to Hela alone.
"Even if the All-Father himself rose from the grave, I doubt they'd stop," Thor replied with a rueful shake of his head.
Who could have foreseen Hela resurrecting Asgard's own dead? These warriors had once followed Odin across the Nine Realms. Now, in death, they were enslaved to Hela's will, reduced to instruments of slaughter.
Thor continued, "They have no idea what they're doing. They feel neither pain nor fear of death, they are no different from draugr."
Hearing this, Sean simply smiled and strode forward with unhurried steps, as though the endless legion before him were nothing but wisps of air.
Valkyrie took a long swig from her flask, drew her blade, and charged forward with a battle-grace that matched Thor's own fearlessness. To stand once more on Asgard's soil, to see everything so achingly familiar, to feel the old memories stirring... it lit a fire in her chest.
'This time, I will reclaim the lost honor of my fallen sisters.' she resolved.
Loki, ever ready to cheer from the sidelines, wisely hung back. The messy business of battle was hardly suited to a connoisseur of intrigue like himself.
A gaunt-faced Asgardian warrior, desiccated as a mummy, was the first to lunge forward. His heavy armor clanked as he raised his spear high and drove it down at Sean's skull.
The dim spectral flame within him flickered. Somewhere deep in what remained of his mind, he seemed to recall the glory days of the Nine Realms campaigns; The dark elves of Svartalfheim, the Frost Giants of Jotunheim...
Countless times, his spear had pierced their flesh, torn them open, crushed them beneath Asgard's iron advance. This enemy before him would meet the same fate.
"You're overthinking it. Return to the dark abyss." Sean said impassively.
Amplified by the Mind Stone, he could read the soul-echoes radiating from the specter's guttering flame. Then the deep crimson light of the Aether rippled outward like disturbed water.
The onrushing Asgardian warrior froze mid-stride, transformed in an instant into a rigid stone statue, then gradually dissipated into dust.
The Einherjar crashed against Sean's position in wave after wave, but he stood like bedrock in a tempest sea, utterly unmoved. The dark crimson liquid of the Aether orbited him in fine, encircling droplets. Warrior after warrior disintegrated before they could even draw near.
Thor followed in his wake. Without Mjolnir, the Thunder god could do little more than batter aside the Einherjar with his bare fists. Compared to Sean who sauntered ahead with such infuriating ease, Thor cut a rather wretched figure.
"Need a hand?" Sean asked, a relaxed smile tugging at his mouth.
Too proud to bow his head yet again, Thor smashed another warrior back with a single blow. A fierce, electric light flickered in his one remaining eye.
He could almost hear Odin's warm voice. The All-Father had long since returned to the dark abyss beneath Yggdrasil, his body and soul slumbering in an unending sleep from which there was no waking.
And yet, Thor could swear his father's whisper echoed in his ears. That deeply familiar presence, so powerful and so close, wrapped around him like a cloak.
"Thor... You are the mighty god of Thunder. Have you forgotten how to fight simply because you no longer hold Mjolnir?"
Odin's voice surfaced with startling clarity... teasing, warm, and tender with paternal affection.
"Father..." Thor murmured.
*Ba-bump*
*Ba-bump*
He heard his own heart pounding like a war drum. A wild, scalding torrent of thunder erupted through his veins.
"Thor! What are you doing?!"
Valkyrie, locked in desperate combat, caught sight of Thor standing motionless amid the Einherjar horde. He seemed to have abandoned all resistance, frozen in place.
The Asgardian warriors swarmed him like black crows descending on carrion, ready to tear his powerful body apart. Their gaunt, dreadful faces shone with ravenous greed, like starving ghouls who had stumbled upon a feast and could not wait to gorge.
"Hela should never have disturbed your rest!" A blazing whip of lightning scythed through the ranks. The Einherjar melted like wax figures before a furnace, dissolving soundlessly amid the roar and crackle of thunder, "Dust to dust. Ashes to ashes... Let the dead find peace, and the living their solace."
Wreathed in searing arcs of lightning, Thor strode forward. In moments, he had caught up to Sean.
Every punch, every sweep of his arm discharged crackling bolts. The surging tide of thunder ripped through wave after wave of the Einherjar.
"Hela! I have returned!" The renewed force thundering through Thor's body swelled his confidence into kingdom come.
This was the first time in his life that he had commanded the storm so effortlessly without Mjolnir, without any conduit. The fury of the heavens was his alone to wield.
Arcs of blinding electricity whipped outward like a tempest, and the fearless Einherjar evaporated like snowflakes seared in a furnace blast.
Loki, trailing behind, wore a complicated expression. Odin had always reserved the best for Thor. No one else was ever deemed worthy of so much as a second glance.
Recalling the implication in Sean's earlier words, Loki lowered his gaze, a trace of coldness washing across his face: 'Asgard has never truly belonged to me, so why cling to it? Even if Thor defeats Hela, even if he averts Ragnarok... how could Asgard hold its place beside the surging power of Earth?'
"That's enough. The warm-up is over," Sean said calmly.
He stood on the highest steps of the palace, meeting the gaze of the woman who lounged against the colossal throne. The Death Queen's lithe silhouette was traced by her green cape.
Had Sean not intervened, this entire affair would have devolved into a melodramatic Asgardian court drama by now; three siblings scheming and clawing at one another for the crown, tearing each other apart... Resulting in a story that would have been perfect for prime time.
Deep within Sean's eyes, a golden light flared. The dark crimson radiance of the Aether contracted to a single dense point, then erupted outward in a cataclysmic surge.
The power of the Reality Stone warped existence itself, rewriting the rules of what was and what could be. The fearless Einherjar let out a ghastly collective wail, writhing in agony as though consumed by flames, until every last flicker of their spectral green soul-fire was snuffed into oblivion...