Chapter 55: Cybertron Ascends, The Multiverse Bows

There was something unspeakably satisfying about watching Asgard inch toward annihilation. Martin forced Thor's head to face the crumbling remnants of his homeland, savoring every moment.

Thor roared like a wild beast, his blood-red eyes brimming with fury.

With a surge of thunder, Stormbreaker, sensing its fallen master's defeat, hurled itself through the air, as if seeking a new worthy wielder.

Thor's eyes lit up with savage hope. He reached for it, desperate.

But Martin was faster.

He snatched the axe out of the air and, without hesitation, drove it straight into Thor's chest. The blow tore through flesh and bone, annihilating the Thunder God's organs in an instant.

"This time," Martin said with a cold smirk, "there's no Captain America swooping in to save you. That guy was just dug out of the Arctic a few hours ago." Whether Thor understood or not, Martin didn't care.

A heartbeat later—

He swung again, severing Thor's head from his shoulders. The bloodied crown soared into the void as Martin obliterated the corpse, extracting only a sample of blood—Thor's royal DNA. It might prove useful for cloning… or some other bioweapon.

Because in the Marvel universe? Impossible isn't a word that carries weight.

And just like that, Asgard had only one god left.

Hela.

But she, too, was on the brink. Driven to desperation, she was barely holding her ground as the berserk Surtur closed in for the kill.

"With Asgard gone and the Aesir gods dead, the biggest obstacle in my way has been eliminated."

Martin spread his arms wide, eyes closed as though basking in the dawn of a new era. The most dominant power in his path had fallen. Who could possibly stop him now?

The other Eight Realms? The god pantheons that might return?

Not my problem, he thought with contempt. Let them fight over what's left of the World Tree. Tear each other apart for all I care. Anyone who gets in my way… dies.

That was Martin's creed. The fall of Asgard was enough.

Now only Hela remained.

No loose ends.

A glint of ruthless finality flashed in Martin's eyes. He was done waiting.

Two Skyfather-tier powerhouses would strike. Hela would fall here, permanently.

Without even calling on the Matrix of Leadership, Martin launched himself forward. With a single step, he crossed dozens of light-years and drove his fist toward the Goddess of Death.

"And what are you, you lowly human filth?"

Hela's face twisted with rage, her necrotic power surging. Her Necrosword lashed out in rapid arcs, carving deep wounds into Surtur's molten body.

Sensing Martin's approach, she flung a spectral dagger at him, aimed straight for the head.

But Martin didn't flinch.

Didn't dodge.

Didn't even blink.

The blade shattered against him with a deafening boom. He walked straight through it.

"Die, Hela. I orchestrated the fall of Asgard myself. Did you really think I'd let you survive it? Actually… you should be thanking me. If I hadn't exhausted Odin in advance, you'd still be rotting in your prison."

Martin smiled, but every strike he launched was brutal, precise, and utterly merciless. He wasn't just fighting to win. He was fighting to erase.

"So it was you…" Hela hissed, her voice shrill with fury. "Killing Odin was one thing, but you shouldn't have destroyed Asgard!"

Her power was waning. Without Asgard's land beneath her, she could barely channel the Odinforce she had stolen. Her face was a mask of hate, her movements slowed by the loss of divine support.

Surtur's burning sword crashed down again, sending Hela flying across the battlefield. He roared and followed, relentless.

Martin advanced, unyielding. Clad in the invulnerable Apex Armor, even without the Matrix of Leadership, he now wielded enough power to overwhelm a goddess.

"I am the Goddess of Death! I will never fall!" Hela shrieked, hair wild, her beauty twisted into something mad and broken.

But the tide had turned. Her end was inevitable.

"Then I'll destroy the World Tree itself," Martin said coldly. "And I'll unleash the great dragon that gnaws its roots. Let it bring about an even darker Ragnarok for all Nine Realms."

His fist crashed into her again, shattering her divine aura and caving in her chestplate with a thunderous crack.

"Die. All Asgardians deserve to die."

Surtur, now in a frenzied rage, unleashed his full divine strength with a final, earth-sundering blow.

SLASH!

Hela screamed as the Twilight Sword cleaved through her essence. Her body and soul disintegrated.

Even as she faded, disbelief clouded her eyes. She had only just escaped her imprisonment. She hadn't even begun to savor her crown as the new God-King of Asgard. She hadn't led her people to conquer the World Tree.

Now… it was all gone.

The Goddess of Death, forced to meet death herself. Ironic.

"Perfect," Martin said, voice laced with grim satisfaction. "That was the last threat. Now… the real game begins."

He stood suspended in the vacuum of space, the shattered ruins of Asgard sprawling for hundreds of light-years below him. At his back, Surtur loomed like a loyal war sentinel.

With Asgard annihilated, the Cybertronian dominion of the multiverse could finally begin in earnest.

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