Chapter 30: The End of Callaxes

Chapter 29: The End of Callaxes

The battlefield was falling apart.

Callaxes stood amidst the wreckage, his control over gravity faltering. His breath came ragged now, his crimson armor cracked and dented, the weight of his own power threatening to crush him.

Baldur landed lightly a few meters away, his golden aura flaring brighter than before. He watched Callaxes struggle to keep himself upright, the flickering remnants of his gravitational field barely holding.

"You realize how this ends, don't you?" Baldur asked casually, tilting his head.

Callaxes exhaled slowly. He was calculating, even now, even at the edge of defeat.

"…I see it now," he admitted, voice steady.

Baldur smirked. "Yeah? So do I."

Then he vanished.

Callaxes barely had time to react before Baldur reappeared in front of him, already striking.

The first punch crashed into Callaxes' ribs, sending a shockwave of force rippling outward. The ground beneath them cracked, the air itself shuddering under the impact.

Callaxes tried to shift gravity to absorb the blow—but he was too slow.

The second punch slammed into his sternum, a golden explosion of pure kinetic force that sent him reeling backward, his boots skidding across the ruined ground.

But Baldur was already following up.

He twisted mid-air, appearing behind Callaxes before he could counter, driving a spear of hard light straight into his spine.

Callaxes grunted, barely managing to twist his body in time to deflect some of the force. His gravitational pull tried to bend the spear away, but Baldur was too fast, too precise.

The attack pierced through his side, golden energy searing through armor and flesh.

Callaxes staggered. His breath hitched, his body trembling.

He lifted a shaking hand, trying to manipulate the battlefield one final time—

Baldur grabbed his wrist.

And crushed it.

Callaxes gasped as he felt his bone snap, his gravitational field flickering violently.

"You lost the second you slowed down," Baldur said.

Callaxes tried to lift his other arm, but Baldur didn't give him the chance.

A final golden spear formed in Baldur's grip, glowing like the core of a dying star.

"Rest now," Baldur murmured, almost respectfully.

Then he drove the spear straight through Callaxes' chest.

The gravitational force around them collapsed instantly, like the entire battlefield had been holding its breath and finally exhaled.

Callaxes shuddered, his body twitching, his eyes widening slightly.

Then, slowly—his knees buckled.

He crumpled to the ground, gasping as he tried to speak.

Baldur crouched next to him, watching the life fade from his eyes.

Callaxes managed a faint smirk. "…Your power… is wasted in Asgard."

Baldur raised a brow. "Yeah? What do you suggest?"

Callaxes' smile didn't fade.

"Find the ones… stronger than you," he murmured. "They will come… soon enough."

And then—

His body collapsed into itself, gravity consuming him one final time.

He was gone.

The battlefield fell silent.

The Executors who had been watching from the distance did not react.

They did not mourn.

They did not attack.

They simply turned and walked away, vanishing into the void.

Baldur exhaled, his golden aura fading slightly.

The fight had been fun.

But Callaxes was not the true threat.

This had been a test.

And now, the real players were watching.

~Elsewhere…~

Thanos sat in his throne, watching the footage of the battle through a flickering holographic projection.

The image showed Callaxes' final stand, his desperate attempt to fight Baldur before being annihilated completely.

For a long moment, Thanos said nothing.

Ebony Maw stood nearby, his hands folded behind his back. "Shall I prepare the next course of action, my lord?"

Thanos continued to watch the battle replay.

Then—slowly—he smiled.

"No," he said. "Let him grow."

Ebony Maw raised a brow. "You wish for him to become stronger?"

Thanos leaned forward slightly, resting his chin against his hand.

"The light is brightest before it burns out."

His smile widened.

"And when the time comes… I will extinguish him myself."

————————————————————

Baldur lifted a hand, a sphere of golden light forming in his palm. The energy swirled, illuminating the darkness of space as he focused.

He had been tracking time.

Even with his cosmic wanderings, he knew how long it had been since he left Asgard.

And if his calculations were correct—

The Chitauri invasion was about to begin.

He had planned on spending more time exploring, more time seeking out new civilizations and battles. But if he did nothing, then the Battle of New York would begin without him.

That wasn't an option.

It wasn't just about Midgard.

It was about Asgard.

If Loki was still working under Thanos, if Odin and Thor were unaware of the larger scheme at play, then Baldur had to act.

He clenched his fist, the golden energy dissipating as he made his decision.

It was time to go home.

Baldur turned toward the endless void of space, preparing to move at lightspeed. He adjusted his stance, the familiar hum of energy building up in his body—

Then—

A pressure.

A shift in the fabric of space around him.

Something was wrong.

Baldur's eyes sharpened, his instincts kicking in. He was not alone.

The stars flickered.

For a fraction of a second, the void itself seemed to warp.

Then—

Impact.

An invisible force struck Baldur with the weight of a collapsing planet. He barely had time to react before he was sent hurtling backward, smashing through the debris of the ruined station.

His vision blurred for a moment. The sheer force behind the blow had been… insane.

Not brute strength. Not an explosion.

Something else.

He stabilized mid-air, golden energy flaring around him in controlled bursts. His body was intact, but he had definitely felt that.

That wasn't normal.

Baldur turned sharply, scanning the void. His senses weren't like Heimdall's—he couldn't see everything at once—but he didn't need to.

Because whoever had hit him wasn't hiding.

A shadow moved through space, slow, deliberate.

And then—

A figure emerged.

Clad in heavy, black-and-gold armor, a towering presence with burning red eyes. His stance was calm, powerful, immovable.

A warrior.

No—

A Herald.

Baldur's golden eyes narrowed.

Terrax.

Terrax, former ruler of Lanlak, now a Herald of Galactus, gripped his massive cosmic axe, its surface glowing with an ominous energy. The edge of the blade looked sharp enough to cut through reality itself.

He spoke, his voice carrying across the void like thunder.

"Baldur Odinson. You have drawn too much attention."

Baldur hovered midair, crossing his arms. "Yeah? And who exactly am I upsetting?"

Terrax tilted his head slightly. "You believe your actions are your own, but the cosmos does not allow unchecked power to roam freely. You have been tested. Now, you will be dealt with."

Baldur smirked. "So what? Thanos send you?"

Terrax's grip on his axe tightened. "I do not serve the Titan."

A pause.

Then—

The space around Baldur began to bend.

The air grew heavy. Denser.

Baldur immediately recognized the shift. Gravity manipulation.

Terrax lifted his axe—and brought it down.

A ripple tore through the void, a shockwave of sheer force that collapsed everything in its path. The debris from the station imploded into itself, crushed by an invisible pressure.

Baldur barely dodged, moving at lightspeed as he reappeared above Terrax. He retaliated instantly, unleashing a concentrated beam of pure golden energy—a blast capable of melting a warship.

Terrax swung his axe midair.

The energy split.

Baldur's eyes widened slightly.

Terrax barely moved, his expression unreadable. "Light bends to the will of gravity."

Baldur clenched his fists, grinning despite himself. "Alright. You might actually be interesting."

The battle began in earnest.

A clash of pure cosmic force.

Baldur's speed and light-based attacks vs. Terrax's gravitational control and raw strength.

And as the void itself trembled under the force of their battle, one thing became clear.

Baldur wasn't making it to Midgard without a fight.