Chapter 49: Infiltrating a Walmart Store

(3rd POV)

As Hela knew from his memories, Nick Fury wasn't clueless when it came to alien species. The man had been rubbing elbows with cosmic weirdos long before most people knew what a floppy disk was.

He understood all too well how minuscule Earth really was in the grand scheme of the universe.

In truth, Earth wasn't even a respectable rural town—it was the galactic version of that gas station just outside Tulsa where even the cockroaches wore bulletproof vests.

Fury had actually heard whispers of Asgard before. It was his cooperation with some aliens back then when they were giving him a history lesson.

Supposedly, this so-called 'kingdom' had ruled much of the known universe over 2,500 years ago—before they suddenly dropped off the cosmic map.

So he'd chalked it up to another ancient alien race that landed on Earth, impressed a few cavemen by lifting a rock, and were forever remembered as gods. To him, mythology was just a badly translated first contact.

But then Hela showed up—after hijacking Jean Grey's body like she was switching channels on a television—and introduced herself to Magneto with the sort of authority you only hear in dictators or pissed-off MILFs.

And if that wasn't enough, Odin himself made a dramatic sky-wide projection, using the clouds and weather like he had an affair with Mother Nature Gaia. That's when Fury knew. These weren't aliens. At least not in the way he'd classified them before.

By human standards, they might as well be gods.

He didn't fully grasp their limits, but Hela gave him a hell of a demo. She could teleport herself—or anything else—faster than a shady salesman disappearing after selling you a lemon car.

She summoned a blade that gave off energy readings that reminded his instruments of nuclear material—though far less friendly.

And she projected a palpable wave of fear across Cape Citadel like she'd flipped on a psychic loudspeaker, which confirmed his suspicion that she'd read someone's mind to find SHIELD's hidden vault, which was disturbing, since not even SHIELD's coffee machine knew where it was.

As he mentally rewatched the horrifying highlight reel of her power, he came to a very simple conclusion: her threat to conquer civilizations? Not an exaggeration.

He sighed, lowered his pride like it owed him money, and said, "I'm sorry. I promise not to do this again."

Sure, his ego was massive—practically its own department—but his mission was bigger: protect the world.

And if Hela decided to vaporize him on the spot, the World Security Council (who already treated him like an annoying relative they couldn't get rid of) would see it as a direct attack. They'd retaliate, and then she'd retaliate harder, and next thing you know, someone's nuking Toledo.

Hela wasn't petty, though. She could smell his insincerity a mile away, but come on—did she really expect him to apologize with genuine tears? This was Nick Fury, not Mr. Rogers.

"It's good to understand," she said dryly, the words sounding as if she didn't care. "Now, this Queen doesn't have time to waste with you. You know what to do."

With a defeated grunt, Fury reached into his coat and pulled out his personal black card—a SHIELD-level access card tied to a private fund he really didn't want to explain on his next budget report.

He didn't think he would live to regret this moment when Hela later used it to literally buy out all the supplies that her kingdom needed.

Naturally, Hela didn't ask. She simply took it—like a queen borrowing from her treasurer—and vanished without a word, leaving behind only the faint trace of superiority in the air.

Fury stood there, blinking once, then muttered, "But... I didn't even tell her the password."

---

Hela's POV

Well, that was delightful. Teasing Nick Fury? Ten outta ten. Would do again.

Of course, I'm not foolish enough to think that everyone will behave just because I flexed a little might. No, no, humanity's collective stupidity is like a bottomless mimosa brunch—unlimited, ill-advised, and bound to end in chaos.

I mean, what other species would ban time travel and reincarnation in TV shows and movies?

Imagine living in a world where masterpieces like Attack on Titan, Death Note, Elfen Lied, and others are banned. Imagine getting expelled from school just because you watched Levi reduce a titan to bloody sushi rolls. That's not dystopia, that's clown-world—and then, that's exactly what humans did.

They really said, "Let's make everything worse for ourselves!" and then committed to the bit. Admirable, in a tragic, facepalm-inducing way.

Anyway, I decided not to burn more brain cells contemplating humanity's passion for being aggressively dumb.

Instead, I teleported to the back alley of a Walmart. Classy, I know. Japan's obviously the ramen capital of the universe, but I'm pretty sure the black card Fury gave me doesn't work universally. Not without screaming at a manager.

Currently, I'm rocking Jean Grey's body, but not the tight X-Men jumpsuit she used when confronting Magneto. Nope. During my few Earth visits, I did a little… liberation of some SHIELD infiltrator gear, the kind agents use to appear as beauties, seduce a rich man, and kill him.

That said, Jean's face has basically become a religious icon in America ever since I showed up. People are out here chanting "Hela save us" like I'm not the same woman who'll throw a toast while they die.

It's awkward, especially since I have a strong anti-mind-control policy. I don't like even mild suggestion spells. Superman's entire personality class? Trash. I could copy it, sure, but I'd rather lick sandpaper.

Shapeshifting like Mystique? Don't have it. Transfiguration Jutsu from Hiruzen's library? Didn't even try it—no chakra. Divine sass doesn't count as spiritual energy. Rude.

But hey, ninjas know how to blend in without chakra, and Hiruzen was no slouch. So I went full 'undercover Walmart shopper' mode.

Slapped on a cap like I was trying to avoid TMZ, channeled my inner soccer mom, and did my best to radiate vague normalcy. Which is hard when your aura says "murder goddess" but your outfit says "Target employee on break."

Quick in and out. I grabbed ramen (spicy, miso, and the one with the weird cartoon chicken), some chocolate, milk, and a few other "totally not for me" goodies. This is strictly for Wanda, obviously. Really.

I'm just being thoughtful, okay? Generous, even. Saintly, really. No one say I'm not motherly material.

My shopping went well. There wasn't a single dramatic explosion, no surprise alien invasion, not even a rogue villain trying to monologue in front of frozen peas.

I just came out to shop—shop—like a normal person, and the city behaved. Honestly, I was a little insulted. No Gwen Stacy swinging by to crash into me and drop her groceries, no random heroic meet-cute.

Apparently, I don't have that Main Character Aura that causes once-in-a-millennium disasters every Tuesday.

I paid, left, and vanished into the street like a responsible adult with better things to do than care about people's reactions. I'd told Jean, "Give me a minute," and, well… it's been eight. Time is a concept. A flexible one.

When I finally strutted back into the room like I hadn't just disappeared for the time it takes to finish an entire K-drama episode, Wanda was already there, sitting with Jean.

Honestly? Good. Wanda had potential. Like, "left-arm-of-the-Queen" potential. Jean was already my right arm, figuratively speaking.

Jean looked at me like I just told her the moon was made of cheese and I'd eaten it all. The classic "That was a minute" face. Girl, I've mastered the art of interpreting judgmental silence. That's called high emotional intelligence, if I remember correctly.

Wanda, on the other hand, was facing away... probably to hide the fact that she was eyeing the bag like it held the secrets of the universe. Spoiler: it was just chocolate. But her commitment was impressive. Like, she didn't even blink.

I clutched my imaginary pearls. "Wow. I come bearing gifts and don't even get a 'Welcome, Your Majesty.' Just pure, unfiltered snack lust. I feel... used."

Truly, the fact that she was more emotionally invested in that box of chocolate than in my grand return hurt a tiny, tiny fragment of my immortal heart.

I sighed dramatically. "Sadly, your human world has yet to produce wine that actually affects me. If it did, this would be much more fun."

Even the wine from the system earlier didn't do anything to me, and that was probably the best wine you can find on Earth. I actually miss the days when coffee and energy drinks could make me feel alive. Now? I'd probably need a shot of raw star core to get a caffeine high.

Sometimes I wish the system gave me cooking skills. Like a Sanji-Soma-Chichi fusion, throw in Ichiraku ramen magic, maybe even some Gordon Ramsay just for the accent. But well, one can't be too choosy.

I opened the bag, and Wanda's soul practically left her body. Her eyes were locked on the chocolate box like it was her soulmate. At that moment, I knew—this girl would absolutely kill for sweets. Respect.

With Jean still in astral form (creepy floaty ghost-chic and all), the vibe in the room was surprisingly warm and cozy. So I tossed my hair and declared, "You know what? Let's do a girls'—uh, women—party."

I am a dignified Queen. I almost called myself a girl. Slip of the tongue. Technically, Wanda is still a girl, though. Barely past the 'murderous teenager' phase.

Jean squinted at me. "What do you mean? Where's the story you promised me or—"

"Okay, girl," I cut her off before she could spiral into some existential tangent. "I've got a plan. And what better setting for dramatic storytelling than literal Hel? Plus, you can use your actual body there instead of floating around and acting like a ghost."

I stepped out of Jean's body and grinned. "Found a way better place for storytime. Get back into your meatsuit, darling. I'm going to pull you both somewhere fun. Don't fight it. That goes for you too, Wanda."

I still used the same method as I did with Viper earlier, pulling them to Hel. Anyway, with the tacit agreement with the Ancient One, I no longer have to worry about her interfering.

.....

Thanks for voting yesterday, we are in the top ten for the first time, hope you can continue friends