Chapter 48: Trolling, Again

Hela's POV

Of course, even though I promised her an interesting story, I didn't start right away. After all, now that I have a body, there are important things to take care of—like… ramen.

Unfortunately, I don't have the money to buy any. And as a goddess, I can't exactly walk into a restaurant, eat, and vanish without paying, right?

So, I considered borrowing from the best lender on Earth: also known as Nicholas. I glanced toward Jean. "Wait a minute. I need to do something real quick."

Then, I sensed a certain bald man, sitting in his chair, reading the Bible—only half-seriously—while quietly debating whether he should change religions.

...

...

...

Nick Fury's POV

These past few days have been the hardest of my life. Everything seems to be spiraling out of control.

First, there were the mutant attacks. Then Stark vanished. The military created a dangerous green monster. Then came the near-civil war among mutants that almost escalated into total disaster—before the creamer was added: Norse gods appearing out of nowhere.

After all that, the world has completely changed. It's pure chaos now, and according to SHIELD's projections, it's only going to get worse.

What's been bothering me even more is the SHIELD Vault—completely vanished. No more than ten people even know it exists. And of those, only three—including me—know its exact location.

And yet, the entire base was teleported.

My gut says Hela is behind it. It's too much of a coincidence—especially after she vanished into thin air. She's clearly capable of teleportation.

Which also means she knows about SHIELD. Either she stumbled on that location by chance… or she read it from someone's mind—someone who did know.

We still haven't figured out whose memory she got it from. At this point, the only person I can trust is myself.

And to make things worse, SHIELD and military resources keep disappearing. Randomly. Quietly. Proving my theory further.

So now, unless I've got the Bible in my hand and a bottle of holy water nearby to keep the literal Goddess of Death at bay, I can't relax. And maybe it is working—she hasn't shown up publicly since.

Maybe I don't need these after all. I mean… why would she visit me, right?

I pushed the thought away and went back to reading the Bible. It's just that somehow, I would always have some doubt reading this knowing others gods exist which contradict the whole meaning of the bible.

Things I exactly regretted the next second because I could swear that I literally saw her. Nah, that must be just my illusion.

I closed and opened my eyes again, nothing changed because that illusion was here, no, she was smiling even more devilishly and I confirmed this isn't my illusion.

...

Hela's POV

Can you imagine the self-control it takes not to burst out laughing when I see Nick Fury clutching a Bible like it's a lifeline and not the prop in a online comedy sketch?

Alright, I'll admit it—I didn't really come for the money. That was just the excuse. The real motive? Trolling him so hard he questions his entire belief system. And by the Nine Realms, it's absolutely worth it.

I couldn't help myself. I had to poke the bear. "So… the mighty Director of SHIELD is a devout Catholic now? "

"And to think," I sighed dramatically, "I genuinely believed I'd gained a few true believers after showing up last time. How disappointing."

I didn't even need to dig into his mind—I've already read that entire library. I know exactly how his brain ticks. He's calm on the surface, but beneath that cool poker face, he's internally screaming like a man stuck in an elevator with all of Hydra's exes.

He closes the Bible with that fake calm—Oscar-worthy, really. "Your Majesty, it's an honor to personally receive a visit from you," he says, like we're on a talk show.

Man's smoother than a snake oil salesman in a tux. He even did the same act with Loki in the movie.

Then, as if he hadn't embarrassed himself enough, he adds, "As for the Bible…"

"Oh, spare me," I cut him off with a wave. "This Queen doesn't give a rat's rotten skull if you're a follower or not. Worship whoever you want—Zeus, Thor, Loki. Doesn't bother me."

"Anyway," I continued with all the grace of a cat knocking things off a shelf, "I came to borrow some of your mortal currency. This Queen is many things, but a mugger of innocents is not one of them. So. You'll lend me money, won't you?"

Now, it's not just for fun. It's also a warning. I know he's going to try something sooner or later—it's in his blood, like paranoia and cynicism.

And if he does, well, I could kill him. Yes, even if he's a named character. Plot armor only goes so far when Death's involved. But he's just too damn amusing. Killing him would be a waste of excellent entertainment.

Still, a little warning never hurts. If he's as sharp as everyone claims, he'll get the message. If not? Well, SHIELD can always update the job listing. 'Wanted: New Director, preferably not crispy.'

Personally, I think Viper would make an entertaining replacement. Poor girl has no idea she's staring up at Mount Tai while standing on a bouncy castle.

I skimmed her file while I was 'borrowing' some things from SHIELD's vault. Wants to dominate the universe. Seriously? I kind of want to give her a push and see how far she rolls downhill before realizing she's not the main character.

Anyway, back to Fury. Even with that legendary poker face, he glitched. Just for two seconds—but I saw it. Like a Windows XP crash behind the eye-patch. I mean, what do you even say when the Goddess of Death pops by for a loan?

He clears his throat like a man preparing to read his last will. "Your Majesty," he says cautiously, like he's tiptoeing across a minefield blindfolded, "while SHIELD does have operational funds, I'm not authorized to withdraw them for personal use."

Ah. There it is. He's probing. Testing me. Measuring how far he can go before I snap his spine like a breadstick. Classic move.

Everyone does it, even without realizing. But Fury? Fury does it professionally. Every smile, every word, every pause—he's collecting data. Trying to figure out how my mind works. What I'll tolerate. What buttons to press.

"Nicholas Joseph Fury," I said, using his full name with deliberate weight. "Do not attempt to understand me. That path leads to ruin—and this is the only warning you will ever receive."

"We gods do not involve ourselves in mortal affairs lightly, nor do we seek to disrupt your world's fragile balance. You speaking to me now is not a right. It is a privilege—one that kings and conquerors across galaxies have begged for with their last breath."

"I have brought entire civilizations to extinction—nations with technologies that could erase your species in an hour. I have broken empires greater than this planet. The idea of adding a few billion more names to death's ledger is... negligible."

But don't misunderstand—I do comprehend people. I once was human, after all. I understand what drives them: fear, survival, hope.

And Fury is a man who carries all three like scars beneath his skin. He's aware that the universe is no longer a distant mystery. Aliens exist. And he—he considers himself Earth's line of defense, the one who must prepare for threats no one else even sees coming.

It's natural, then, that he would try to assess me. To read my words, measure my tone, test my boundaries—like any man backed into a corner, looking for a weapon that isn't there.

But this is precisely where understanding human nature becomes critical: you must set limits. Firm, immovable ones. Because if you bend once, they'll ask again. If you forgive once, they'll exploit it twice. That's not weakness—it's a failure of judgment.

Fury is no fool. Reckless at times, yes—when the narrative demands it—but inherently, he is cautious. Dangerously so.

He's faked his death, not once but multiple times. He keeps files on every enhanced being on this planet—weaknesses, habits, contingency plans. He watches everyone, trusts no one, and plans as if the end of the world is a Tuesday.

And that's why he needs to understand this: I am not someone Earth can afford to provoke. Once that truth is etched into his mind, he'll ensure others understand it as well. Because if there's one thing Fury knows better than anyone, it's this: Some forces don't negotiate.

...

Come on guys, it's the new week, hope we can finish higher than 8 please guys, don't forget to vote