Chapter 140

Wanda's strength finally gave out, her body crumpling to the cold, hard ground, the taste of victory as bitter as it was sweet. Her chest heaved, each breath a painful reminder of her battle against Gorr. Sweat poured from her forehead, dampening her clothes and hair, and her muscles ached with a fatigue she'd never felt before.

Lydia stood watching her, her gaze unreadable. "Well done, Wanda," she finally said, her voice softer than usual. "Your tactics were smart, your execution effective. Remember this fight, remember what you've learned."

She turned her gaze to James, her tone brisk and authoritative. "James, see to her. I want her patched up and ready for another round tomorrow."

James rose from his spot, a begrudging grin on his face as he moved toward the fallen sorceress. "You heard her, Maximoff," he chuckled. "Can't have you dying on us now."

Thor, watching from the sidelines, was a mix of emotions. Shock at the brutality of the training, awe at the effectiveness of it, and an unexpected pang of envy. He'd seen Hela fight like this before, with a ferocity and determination that was unparalleled.

He wondered if this was how Hela had become so strong. If this was how she'd managed to survive in the harsh universe they lived in. A part of him craved this training, this crucible that forged warriors out of ordinary beings. But another part of him, the part that still held on to the gentler ways of Asgard, recoiled at the idea.

He was torn, caught between two worlds, two ideals. The world he knew, and the world he was beginning to understand. He glanced at Lydia, her figure silhouetted against the backdrop of the battle-scarred city. A part of him knew that if he wanted to protect those he loved, he would have to step into her world, and face whatever trials it presented.

The morning was a crisp and cool one in Asgard, the sky a clear and brilliant blue, giving the city a glow that was almost ethereal. Lydia made her way leisurely through the bustling market stalls, savoring the rarity of these quiet moments.

Around her, Asgardians went about their business. Some haggled over goods in the market, their voices filled with laughter and good-natured banter, while others gathered in groups to talk, their conversations mingling with the clattering sounds of daily life.

She stopped by a stall selling intricately carved wooden trinkets, her fingers trailing over the smooth surfaces. She struck up a casual conversation with the vendor, a burly Asgardian with a booming laugh, and found herself bartering with a surprising degree of enjoyment.

Walking further, she paused to watch a group of children playing a game of some sort, their youthful exuberance a stark contrast to the battle-scarred cityscape. There was an energy about Asgard that Lydia found strangely compelling. Despite the scars of war and battles, there was a strength, a vitality that coursed through its people.

Thor watched Lydia, his golden eyes filled with wonder. He had never seen this side of her before - a woman who could go from being a ruthless trainer to an interested visitor. It was disconcerting and fascinating at the same time.

The following day found Wanda recovered enough to join them. She approached Lydia, who was sitting at a table outside a small café, a plate of steaming food before her. Wanda took in her bandages, the visible toll of the previous day's battle still apparent on her face.

Lydia took a bite of her meal, her eyes surveying Wanda with a cool detachment. Swallowing, she finally spoke, "Good, you're here. Eat up, we need to get going soon."

A sense of anticipation hung in the air. As they prepared for their next journey, they couldn't help but wonder what challenges Lydia had in store for them next.

Hela's grin was feral, her eyes glinting with a barely restrained fervor. Omnipotence City was an enigma she was all too eager to unravel, having been kept from it by her father's paranoia. She almost vibrated with the hope of a potential skirmish there, her mind already spinning with plans and strategies.

"Next stop, Omnipotence City," Lydia announced with a level of casualness that belied the gravity of the statement. She turned to Wanda and James, her tone changing slightly as she explained their agenda. "We need to remind the gods of their duties and responsibilities. It seems they've forgotten their place." There was an ominous note to her voice as she hinted at a more forceful approach.

James and Wanda exchanged a glance. They were getting a firsthand glimpse into the grander scheme of Lydia's plans, and it was a sight to behold. Their mentor was not just reshaping them, but the very fabric of the universe's power dynamics.

Thor, still nursing a mug of mead, watched this exchange with a curious intensity. He was a stranger to the internal machinations of Lydia's empire, and yet, he found himself wanting to be a part of it. "Might I join you?" He asked, a mix of anticipation and anxiety written on his face.

Lydia looked at him for a moment, the silence stretching into infinity. Then she nodded, her gesture an acceptance of his request, "Of course, Thor. You might find it... enlightening."

The meal ended soon after, the table laden with empty plates and drained glasses. Lydia stood up, her aura seeming to flicker with power as she readied herself for the teleportation. The group followed suit, a collective breath being held as they were swept away from Asgard, their next stop: Omnipotence City.

When Lydia began the usual teleportation process, she was met with an unexpected resistance. The cosmic pathways that she usually traversed so smoothly were now closed, locked against her. She scoffed, a light flicker of irritation in her eyes. "They are bolder than I thought," she muttered, then exerted her cosmic power, pushing against the barrier.

With a seismic surge of her will, the blockade shattered, and the usual swirl of teleportation enveloped the group. An instant later, they stood on the ground of Omnipotence City, a minor shockwave rippling out from their arrival. The strength of Lydia's forced entry echoed through the surroundings, causing startled looks and hushed whispers among the citizens.

"You never fail to make an entrance, do you, Lydia?" James commented, taking a moment to recover from the somewhat turbulent teleportation.

Hela looked around with an excited smirk, her eyes darting over the grandeur of the city. Wanda, still weakened from her earlier battle, was leaning on Thor for support, her face a mixture of awe and exhaustion.

As they all took in the view, Omnipotence City unfurled itself before them. A city that resided in the center of infinity itself, it was a meeting point for the gods of all pantheons, a celestial hub where divine beings from every realm and reality gathered. Grandiose, golden spires reached towards the eternal cosmos, shimmering under the soft, ethereal light that filled the city. The architecture was a wondrous mix of all civilizations, bearing the hallmarks of Asgardian grandeur, the sleek lines of Kree design, the organic shapes of Shi'ar artistry, and countless others.

In the heart of the city stood the Parliament of Pantheons, a colossal structure that served as a meeting point for all the divine beings. It was a place of discourse and decision, where the fate of realities was often decided.

Now, they were here, standing in the city of gods, ready to shake the very foundations of divine authority.

Casting her gaze around the city, Lydia noticed several divine beings moving towards the grandiose structure at the heart of Omnipotence City – the Parliament of Pantheons. Her lips curved into a small, wry smile as she began walking in the same direction.

Her group followed suit, each of them taking in the resplendence of the divine city, a living testament to the accumulated civilizations of the cosmos. Despite the beauty that surrounded them, they could feel the growing tension in the air, a strange mix of anticipation and dread that gripped the city.

To their sides, gods of various shapes and sizes paused in their tracks, their gazes filled with curiosity and apprehension as they watched Lydia and her group. There was something different about Lydia, a power that surpassed their understanding and instilled a deep-rooted sense of fear within them. They could feel the magnitude of her power, like a pulsating star radiating through the cosmos.

One of the gods, a tall figure cloaked in shadows, with eyes like two burning embers, stepped forward with the intent to question Lydia. He looked at her, his gaze intense, trying to penetrate the aura of raw power that encased her. But as he watched her stride confidently towards the Parliament of Pantheons, he held back his questions, deciding it would be better to let the Parliament handle this unknown entity.

"I suppose we're not here for sightseeing then?" James asked, watching Lydia's determined stride.

"No," Lydia answered without turning around, her eyes fixed on the towering structure ahead. "We're here to remind them of their purpose."

Thor, a sense of wariness creeping into his heart, glanced at Wanda and Hela, seeing their own apprehension reflected back at him. Their group, in their unusual and possibly unwelcome arrival, continued their path to the Parliament of Pantheons, ready to meet with the gods of the cosmos and, if necessary, to shake them from their complacency.

Walking into the heart of the Parliament, they were greeted by the sight of an extravagant feast, an orgy of delectable delights spread across vast tables, and gods from numerous pantheons partaking in the revelry. Zeus, king of the Greek gods, perched on an elevated platform, was the central figure of the feast. His booming laughter reverberated around the grand hall, his voice resounding with tales of new parties and celebrations to come.

Lydia, unperturbed by the ongoing merriment, walked forward with an unruffled demeanor, her gaze firmly set on the platform where Zeus was ensconced. Each step she took towards the center echoed with an authority that stilled the hall, the lively chatter slowly replaced by murmurs of intrigue and uncertainty.

Thor, feeling a sense of discomfort at the sudden attention, suggested, "Lydia, perhaps we should wait until Zeus finishes..." His voice trailed off as he realized Lydia was not heeding his words. She continued her steady march towards the center, her silence more potent than any spoken word.

Gods from various pantheons paused, their laughter dying in their throats, their goblets frozen mid-air, as they noticed Lydia's approaching figure. Their eyes, filled with curiosity and an undercurrent of fear, followed her every step. Her presence was akin to a black hole, drawing in their attention and creating a vacuum of silence around her.

Finally reaching the center, she cast her gaze up to Zeus, still engrossed in his boisterous conversation, seemingly oblivious to her arrival.

"Zeus," she called out. Her voice was calm, carrying a simple yet assertive tone. However, the cosmic power laced in her words resonated throughout the Parliament. It was a vibration that seeped into every stone, every being, a resonance that echoed in the grandeur of the divine hall, effectively silencing the once vibrant feast.

Zeus, a striking figure with his robust build, billowing white beard, and eyes that sparkled with the impish glint of a thousand suns, turned his gaze upon Lydia. His brows furrowed, a frown momentarily replacing his jovial expression. A heavy Greek accent laden with authority punctuated his words as he spoke, "And who is this that dares interrupt my speech? Who let her into this grand hall?"

Lydia met his gaze unflinchingly, her eyes as cold as the vastness of space. A sea of hushed whispers swept across the assembly as all eyes now focused on the tension between Zeus and Lydia. A soft smile curved her lips as she raised her voice, the resonant power in her tone only magnifying with her declaration.

"I am Lydia," she began, her voice echoing in the quiet grandeur of the hall, "the First Empress of the Genoshian Empire." The murmurs swelled, and surprise rippled through the crowd at the unfamiliar title. "I am here," she continued, her gaze holding the now fully attentive Zeus, "to speak to you, Zeus, and to all gods present, about your responsibilities and duties to the universe."

A stunned silence hung in the air for a beat, before being replaced by a cacophony of laughter. Every god present, from the minor deities to the leaders of pantheons, erupted into mirth. Zeus himself led the laugh, his bellowing guffaw echoing throughout the grand hall, at the sheer audacity of this unknown entity. The audacity to tell gods, rulers of realms and creators of worlds, about their duties and responsibilities. The laughter echoed throughout the grand hall, a loud and mocking challenge thrown at Lydia.

Chuckling, Zeus leaned forward from his elevated position, the merriment in his eyes now replaced with a haughty curiosity. "You speak as if you've earned the right to address us, Lydia," he mocked, his tone dripping with condescension. "You, an Empress of a realm we've never even heard of. What do you know of our duties and responsibilities?"

Lydia's expression remained unflappable, her gaze locked on the god of the sky and thunder. "I've been informed," she began, her voice serene yet resonating with an underlying iron will, "of a planet now under my rule. A planet which was on the brink of oblivion, its people crying out to the heavens for a savior. A planet that belonged to you, the gods, and yet... was abandoned."

A murmur swept across the assembly. Some gods exchanged glances, while others studied Lydia with a new interest.

"This," Lydia continued, her gaze never wavering from Zeus, "cannot continue to happen. Your people, your responsibilities, you've let them languish in despair. How can you feast and revel here, when those who worship you suffer?"

For a moment, there was silence. The gods present shifted uncomfortably, eyes darting among one another. Zeus straightened up, his face hardening. He raised a hand dismissively, casting a commanding gaze over the Empress.

"Leave that planet be, Lydia," he ordered, his voice reverberating across the room, silencing any remaining whispers. "We shall return to it when we see fit. Now, be gone from this assembly. We have no more time to entertain the ramblings of a child playing at being a ruler."

The dismissive wave of his hand echoed his words, as if swatting away an annoying fly. His gaze was unwavering, his authority unquestionable. The gods watched, a mix of smug satisfaction and quiet uncertainty washing over them as they waited for Lydia's response.

A small, amused smile tugged at the corners of Lydia's lips as Zeus finished his dismissal. Her eyes danced with a spark of defiance as she met the thunder god's haughty gaze head-on.

"You know, Zeus," she began, her voice ringing out across the hushed assembly. "There are two things in this universe that I genuinely despise. One, rudeness," she gestured vaguely in Zeus' direction, her smile never wavering. "And two, having to clean up after someone else's mess."

Zeus barked out a laugh, his mirth echoing through the vast hall. "And what? You believe you can make us clean up our mess, little girl?" he chortled, slapping his thigh in apparent mirth. The other gods chuckled at his side, although a few faces seemed to hold a touch of trepidation.

Lydia's smile never faltered. She merely stood there, serene, her gaze as steady as a rock amidst a storm. She gave a light, almost dismissive shrug, as though she found Zeus' amusement inconsequential.

"Is that a challenge, Zeus? Careful now," she warned playfully. "You might not like where this ends up."

From the side, James' muscles tensed, a small grimace tugging at the corners of his lips. He recognized that look in Lydia's eyes. The calm before the storm. The flicker of mischief dancing in those irises was a sign that Zeus had just made a critical error. James sighed, recognizing the inevitable was about to occur.

"He's done it now," James muttered under his breath, bracing himself for the imminent uproar. His sister had just been pushed over the edge, and woe betide the god who had the audacity to do so.