The night draped the sky of the kingdom of Niflheim in its black cloak. Ashes from the clouds scattered like burning embers raining down, a grim symphony of silence pierced only by the cries of the guardian wind, calling out to the past from the ruins of this cold land. A kingdom inhabited by lost souls, where only a few dare to enter without losing a part of themselves.
In the midst of this darkness stood Shao, a young man with amber eyes that gleamed in the night. A shadow veiled his face, hinting at sorrows deeper than the ages of the nine realms. His body was weary, bearing the scars of war in every corner, his hands gripping a long sword with a pale blue blade that shimmered in the darkness, pulsing with a hidden life.
Blood dripped from a deep wound on his shoulder, his body trembling from pain, yet he did not retreat. There was no place for fear or regret in his heart; every step he took led him toward a fate that might determine the future of his family—and the future of all the realms.
Behind him, slow footsteps echoed. "Shao..." came the voice of Astir, the girl who had followed him since the beginning of this deadly path. Her voice was gentle yet filled with concern, and beneath her gray cloak, she carried a folded spear, always ready to defend him.
"We need to find a place to rest," she said, panting. "The blood in you moves in a way I've never seen before."
Shao looked at her with eyes that no longer radiated warmth, but rather a glint of unwavering resolve. "I know. The blood isn't just moving... it's awakening. And this is the time when I must be stronger than ever."
Memories weighed heavily on Shao's heart with every step he took. Just days ago, he had witnessed burning villages, the screams of their people who found no refuge from the flames and destruction. That night had been the turning point that burdened him with the weight of the chosen blood.
He recalled his mother's face as she closed her eyes for the last time beneath the rubble of their home, and the hand of his little sister slipping from his grasp as he tried to save her. That indescribable pain had planted an unquenchable fire in his heart.
In a moment of boiling rage, a force erupted within him, causing a strange crimson light to explode, making everyone around him recoil in fear. Yet, he did not know the source of this power or its reason.
Him stepped forward steadily toward Shao, offering him a calm smile—one that carried the weight of years of endless wars and battles.
"Shao, your blood is the legacy of the gods, but the legacy of the gods is not a gift without a price. You must learn to tame it, or it will be the cause of your downfall."
Shao looked at Him's long spear, then into his wise eyes.
"How can I control a power I don't understand?"
Him sighed and said, "The path is long and arduous, but it begins with a single step. You are not alone, and Astir will be by your side. Together, we will face this fate."
At that moment, the echo of other footsteps resonated through the dark corridor. Thor, the furious god, emerged—his features brimming with might, wielding his legendary hammer, *Mjölnir*. He looked at Shao with a gaze full of challenge and declared,
"I will not allow an ordinary man carrying the blood of the chosen to stand before my wrath."
Shao showed no fear. Instead, he raised his sword and said,
"I am not ordinary."
Thus began the battle between Shao and Thor—a clash between the power of the chosen blood and the hammer of the gods. Their strikes shook the earth, igniting flashes of fire and lightning in the sky.
The sounds of their collision echoed through the ancient cave, each blow from Thor's hammer creating violent waves that reverberated through the surroundings. Shao moved swiftly between the strikes of the divine warrior, relying on the chosen blood pulsing within his veins, granting him strength and speed.
"You are stronger than I expected," Thor growled, his eyes blazing like fire.
"But do you have the power to withstand my fury?"
Shao smiled confidently, raising his blue sword, which gleamed with a crimson glow.
"I will not surrender, no matter how great your strength."
He lunged at Thor with a swift attack, his sword slicing through the air like a beam of red light. His blade clashed with Thor's hammer in a massive collision, sending sparks illuminating the darkness.
As the battle intensified, Shao recalled Him's words:
"You must control your blood—do not let it control you."
Amid the violent whirlwind of combat, Shao focused on the sensation of the blood coursing through his veins, synchronizing with the rhythm of his heartbeat, breathing with it—until he felt a fiery force surging through every muscle in his body. This power was not just raw strength; it was intelligent, speaking to him, guiding him.
Suddenly, he paused for a moment, took a deep breath, and opened his eyes wide. A radiant red energy enveloped his sword, filling the space with a powerful light. Thor's movements froze for a few seconds.
"This is the chosen blood... its true power," Shao whispered to himself, then charged forward with incredible speed.
Thor was taken aback but did not retreat. He raised his hammer to block the strike, but suddenly, the red blade exploded in a powerful flash, forcing Thor backward. A loud impact echoed through the ground.
Astir, who had been watching from the side, exhaled in relief and said,
"I have never seen Shao this strong before... Has he truly begun to control the blood?"
Shao, catching his breath, replied confidently,
"This is only the beginning. I must learn more."
As Thor struggled to rise from the ground, darkness gathered around him, attempting to restore his divine strength. His eyes burned with seething rage, emitting a deep blue glow.
"This power will not last long, Shao. Gods like us do not fall easily."
Shao readied himself for the next strike and responded,
"I am not here to die—I am here to live and protect what remains of this world."
His words ignited the heart of the battle, and he stood firm, determined to face the challenge. He took a deep breath and steadied himself, prepared for the fight that would decide the fate of the realms.
At that moment, the cave's gateway illuminated once more, golden rays of light streaming in, announcing the arrival of new allies—among them Astir and Him, who stepped forward, ready to support Shao in battle.
Astir and Him approached Shao with confidence and calm. Astir held her long spear, her eyes filled with determination, while Him observed Thor cautiously, prepared for any sudden movement.
"Shao, we are here with you. We will not let you face this alone," Astir declared firmly.
Shao smiled and replied,
"With you, I will fear no power. Let's finish this."
The three of them charged together in a coordinated attack, each utilizing their unique skills—Shao with the chosen blood and his gleaming sword, Astir with her swift spear, and Him with his massive spear and unparalleled strength.
They converged in a swift assault on Thor, who began to retreat, realizing that this battle was not as easy as he had assumed.
The clash of steel against steel, the cries of battle echoing through the ancient cave walls—it was not merely a confrontation between mortals and a god, but a struggle between fate and will, between legend and reality.
Shao leaped high, the energy of the chosen blood flowing from his feet like a surge of flame, then descended with his sword toward Thor's hammer. At the same moment, Astir spun around him like lightning, her spear piercing the god's side, while Him struck from behind with immense force, driving his heavy spear into Thor's armor.
Thor roared, and a surge of electric energy exploded around him, pushing them all back—but he was no longer as arrogant. He knelt on one knee, his breath heavy, droplets of blood seeping from his divine form.
"This is impossible..." he growled.
"How can a mortal wound a god?"
Shao stepped closer, his sword blazing with a glow unlike the light of the gods or the darkness of the titans.
"I am not just a mortal... I am the chosen one."
At that moment, the ground beneath them split open, and a vortex of shadows began to pull everything into the depths. A strange voice echoed from the cave's core:
"The balance has been broken. The gods are no longer the sole rulers of this world..."
Shao looked at his companions.
"Hold on—we are descending into a place where no one has ever risen from before."
They were swept into an endless abyss, torn between time and space, between dream and reality. It was not merely a chasm but a gateway to one of the nine realms— *Helheim*, the land of the dead, ruled by *Hela*, the mistress of the underworld.
The three landed upon cracked black rocks, thick fog obscuring their vision. A heavy silence loomed over the place, as if the whispers of the dead echoed in their ears.
"This... isn't Niflheim," Astir murmured, staring at the shifting shadows.
Him replied in a low voice, "Helheim... the place from which no one returns."
Shao, despite the dread of the place, did not falter. "If this is the path of blood, then I will walk it to the end."
As they advanced, faint voices began to rise around them. Spirits, twisted into distorted human forms, lost and tormented, slowly approached. Suddenly, one of the shadows parted, and *Hela* herself emerged—tall, beautiful, and terrifying, half of her body radiant, the other decayed like death itself.
"Welcome, bearer of the blood," she said, her voice filling the void. "I have been expecting you."
Hela stood before them, a black aura coiling around her form, her hair flowing like cold smoke, her eyes glowing with the very essence of death. Her presence alone made the air heavier, the hearts slower.
"I knew the chosen blood would lead you here," she whispered as she stepped forward, her movements silent. "But the real question is: have you come to face your fate, or to seek an impossible salvation?"
Shao did not retreat, though his soul trembled before such ancient power. "I came to understand... to know what happened to my land, and who I truly am."
Hela laughed—a deep, sorrowful laugh. "You are not the first to think that blood is a gift. But it is a curse, Shao. *Odin's curse*, living within your veins."
Astir raised her spear. "If you intend to stop him from moving forward, then you will have to face all three of us."
Hela lifted her hand gently, and the shadows behind her stirred like an entire army.
"I do not stop—I test. If you wish to pass through my realm to the higher world, you must prove that your will is stronger than my death."
Shao looked at his companions and said, "Then let the trial begin."
The ground around them filled with hordes of enraged spirits, and Hela's voice echoed through the void:
"Fight... or forget yourselves among the shadows."