new 100 power stones and new chapter tomorrow
What do you think of a vidar x hela or do we make a story out of nothing for this new race to appear?
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The air in Hel was dense, heavy with a cold that wasn't felt on the skin but deep within the soul. There were no seasons here, no dawns or sunsets. Only an eternal gloom, dimly lit by supernatural torches and a ghostly mist that covered the stone floors. The scent of death, ancient dust, and broken memories filled every corner.
Vidar walked forward without haste, without fear. His steps were steady, his golden eyes fixed ahead. He knew where he was going. He had crossed that realm of condemned souls, heard the laments of the fallen, and felt the weight of sins not his own. But none of that mattered. Something else awaited him, something ancient and far more dangerous than any wandering specter.
And there she was.
He found her deep within an enormous circular chamber, carved from black stone and covered in archaic inscriptions. In the center, chains made of an unknown, dark, obsidian-like material held a woman with long black hair, a frozen gaze, and a proud face. Her garments, worn by countless eras, barely covered her body — and yet she retained the presence of a goddess.
A rune floated above her. Enormous, ancient, alive. Its energy pulsed steadily, feeding from a distant source. Vidar recognized it instantly: it was Odin's vitality, linked to the seal, sustaining the prison with his essence.
Hela's eyes slowly opened at sensing his presence. Dark as the abyss, but with a spark that neither imprisonment nor betrayal had extinguished.
"Who dares…?" —her voice was deep, raspy, laden with centuries of captivity and hatred. Then she looked at him properly, and a slight smirk curved her lips— "You…? Such a young god here?"
Vidar allowed himself a faint smile.
"I'm not as young as you think, Hela," he answered firmly, stepping forward. "Even if this body has seen only fifty-seven winters, I've lived through things no other in Asgard has dared to face."
Hela frowned, observing him more closely. She sensed an ancient power in him, something that went far beyond his years. A contained rage, a latent darkness — but also… an unyielding will.
"And who might you be, boy?" she asked, tilting her head.
Vidar stopped a few steps from the floating rune.
"My name is Vidar. Son of Odin. Blood brother… though that word means little to me."
Hela's eyes narrowed.
"Vidar…" she repeated softly, testing the name on her tongue. "You don't look anything like our beloved father. I see no arrogance in you, no insatiable hunger for domination… yet I do sense his blood in your chest. What brings you to this forsaken corner of existence?"
Vidar was silent for a moment, studying her. There was no fear in her, only exhaustion and a tempered wrath born of centuries.
"I dream of something different," he said at last. "I have walked among men, among gods, and they all tell the same story: conquests, betrayals, wars. Worlds burning, innocents dying, always in the name of a greater power. I am sick of it. This universe is broken, Hela. It's been bleeding out for millennia, and no one has tried to mend it. I intend to do so."
The goddess of death let out a brief, hoarse laugh.
"To mend it? A god speaking of healing what's been rotten since its creation? I never thought I'd hear those words from an Odinsson's mouth. And what do you plan to do, little would-be peacemaker? Embrace all mortals and whisper them words of comfort?"
Vidar shook his head slowly.
"No. There's no redemption for this era. What I desire… is perfect balance. A universe where war no longer exists, where no gods thirst for power, and no mortals are enslaved by fear. A realm where no one must die in another's name. Where the races that exist do so for a single purpose: to live in harmony, without one seeking to rule the other."
He stepped even closer, defying the energy of the rune.
"And for that… I need new gods. Not the old ones, not the cowards hiding behind empty thrones. You and me, Hela. No one else. Because you know what Asgard's betrayal tastes like, the abandonment of your own blood. You are the only one capable of understanding what I want to create."
Hela stared at him, and for the first time, her lips curled into a faint, knowing smile.
"You speak with a dangerous certainty, Vidar. And what would this new race of yours be? An army? Another breed of executioners?"
Vidar shook his head again.
"They won't be conquerors… they'll be guardians. Beings to preserve the balance. Not driven by ambition or hatred, but by duty. A race born from us, from our essence… to ensure no kingdom ever again falls into the hands of tyrants. I care nothing for Asgard, nor for the old gods. My realm will stand beyond time and space… it will be the center of everything."
Hela contemplated him in silence. The echoes of her own hatred for Odin resonated with every word from the young god. She had waited so long in darkness, never imagining that one day, such a proposal would stand before her.
"I always knew someone would come with dreams of breaking these chains," she murmured, barely a whisper. "But I never thought it would be a blood brother. You have my attention, Vidar. Shatter this rune… and let's see if fate dares deny us what we deserve."
Vidar smiled then, his expression a mix of shadow and light.
"It won't be fate deciding this time, sister. It'll be me."
And he stepped forward, the energy of the rune crackling as it sensed his unyielding will.
To be continued…
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