Chapter 40: The Eternal Flame

The Ancient One's sudden intervention brought the battle to a temporary halt.

Odin had suffered a crushing defeat, humbled in his twilight years by a mere "mortal" from Earth. The All-Father's pride, and with it the dignity of all Asgard, lay in ruins.

Martin studied the Ancient One. It was his first time seeing the fabled guardian in person, and the immense arcane power radiating from her filled him with a rare unease.

If he could help it, he'd rather face down the entire World Tree than risk open conflict with the Ancient One.

Odin? Frankly, he wasn't worth much.

There were as many Odins as there were universes. In the infinite spread of the multiverse, the number of All-Fathers was virtually endless. Killing this universe's Odin would hardly make a dent, countless others remained.

But the Ancient One… she was different.

Her backing was far too powerful, one of the ultimate sources of arcane power in the Marvel cosmology. Behind her stood the Vishanti, beings of multiversal magnitude.

Martin fell silent for a moment, then pointed to Odin and said calmly, "His body's on the verge of collapse. If I finish him off, the price would be the destruction of the entire galaxy. I'm not wrong, am I?"

"You're not," the Ancient One replied with a serene smile. "Even I would struggle to shield Earth from the fallout. And your people are still down there."

Odin, leaning on Gungnir, the Spear of Heaven, drew a slow, heavy breath. His voice was gravelly but resolute. "You've won, Martin. You're only the second being in history to defeat Odin, King of the Gods. Your name will echo through the cosmos. As the price of my defeat, I will no longer pursue vengeance. I'll even lay aside my pride as All-Father. But I ask one thing in return, Thor must live. He still has a destiny far greater than even I can foresee."

"The Eternal Flame," Martin said suddenly.

"…What?"

"That's the price of your defeat," Martin replied evenly. "I want the Eternal Flame."

Even the Ancient One turned to look at him in open surprise.

Odin's brows furrowed deeply, his grip on Gungnir tightening. "The Eternal Flame is the lifeblood of Surtur himself, eternal and indestructible. Its danger is beyond measure. Why would you want such a thing?"

"What I intend to do with it is none of your concern," Martin said coldly. "Give me the Flame, or I'll find a way to kill you. And if I can't kill you… I'll wipe Asgard off the map."

A long silence fell.

At last, Odin raised his gaze. Then, without a word, he lifted his hand. From the vast continent of Asgard, a streak of burning light soared into the sky, traversed the Bifrost, and landed neatly in Odin's palm.

"Use it wisely," Odin said, his voice low and bitter. "The last time we needed it, to destroy Surtur, the Nine Realms nearly fell with him."

Suppressing the toll the battle had taken on him, Odin turned and walked away, doing his best to maintain the illusion of strength as he departed for Asgard.

But the moment he stepped onto the sacred soil of the realm, its leyline energies surged into him. He absorbed them like a drowning man gasping for air, yet even that wasn't enough.

He couldn't stop the blood from spilling from his lips, and his complexion turned deathly pale. He collapsed, breath ragged and shallow.

The toll of fighting Martin had been too great. The battle had pushed him beyond his limits.

"I've grown… too old…"

Staring skyward with his single eye, Odin fell into a long, silent contemplation. The majesty and fire that once defined him had dimmed. The countdown to his end had begun. He didn't know how much time he had left.

In the vacuum of space…

Only Martin and the Ancient One remained.

"You knew this fight between Odin and me was inevitable, didn't you?" Martin asked without looking up, his attention still on the Eternal Flame, a prize of unimaginable power.

"I glimpsed fragmented visions of this moment," she replied, her tone measured. "It was only one of many possible timelines. Still, I never expected you to defeat the All-Father outright."

She lowered her hood once more. "You're… unique, Martin. In all the futures I've seen, you trigger the most chaotic and far-reaching ripples. When you have time, come to Kamar-Taj. We'll talk properly then."

A burst of golden sparks flared as the Ancient One vanished from sight.

Only now did Martin look up, his brow furrowed, his wariness palpable.

He feared the Ancient One far more than Odin.

Even in his past life as a comic reader, Martin had known her as a bottomless well of power and wisdom, one who wandered the multiverse after stepping down as Sorcerer Supreme. Only in Doctor Strange's most critical moments did her soul ever return to guide him.

"The Ancient One… terrifying in mind, might, and allies alike."

After a long moment of thought, Martin retrieved the shattered remains of the Destroyer Armor, then activated the Apex Armor, turning toward Earth.

Its coordinates were etched into his mind. With the power of the Apex Armor, crossing thousands of light-years was trivial.

He returned.

As he passed by the moon, Black Bolt stood in silent observation. When their eyes met, the Inhuman King gave a small, respectful nod.

Martin descended toward Earth, thunderously and gloriously.

Wreathed in a terrifying aura and radiant with the light of shattered myths, he fell from the heavens like a living god. His arrival was a phenomenon witnessed by the world.

A man who had torn down legends with his bare hands, his very existence plunged the entire planet into stunned silence. His star-shattering might sent shivers down the spines of the global elite.

Martin… had ascended. Like a true god, he had claimed his throne.

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