The scene unfolding before him was something Corvus Glaive simply couldn't wrap his head around.
As members of the Black Order, they were virtually peerless across the cosmos. They had even held their own against the formidable legions of Asgard's Golden Realm.
Ebony Maw, in particular, possessed the strength of a high-tier sorcerer. Even if he wasn't a match for Madam Herta—a woman Thanos had long regarded as his greatest threat—surely he shouldn't have been carved up like a sacrificial lamb without landing a single blow?
How could the gap between them be this vast?
While Corvus felt his very soul trembling with dread, he heard Herta's voice drift from ahead of him, tinged with a faint, disappointed sigh. "Is that all? I really thought you'd keep me entertained a bit longer. Sadly, I don't have any spells weaker than that one."
"What did you do to us?" Corvus snarled. He knew they were finished. This was supposed to be a covert sabotage mission to secure the objective, but he never expected to run into Herta here.
Had she foreseen this and been waiting for them?
"I'm just sending you to prison. Don't worry, time will fly in there."
"Curse you...!" No matter how much indignation burned in his chest, it was futile.
As Corvus spun around to face her, all he saw was a mirror manifesting before his eyes, its silver surface rushing forward to swallow him whole.
Finally, silence returned to the room.
Herta's display hadn't just wiped out Thanos's elite vanguard in one fell swoop; it was a masterclass for the onlookers from Xandar on what it meant to be the ultimate polymath.
To stand at the pinnacle of both magic and technology—perhaps that was the true definition of a "Genius."
"I never imagined your magic would be so potent. It reminds me of Asgard in its prime," Adora remarked, her voice full of awe.
Top-tier magic paired with cutting-edge tech—that was the universal impression of Asgard. However, Herta was a different breed entirely; her technology didn't require a drop of mana to function.
"If you're going to praise me, just praise me. Why do you feel the need to bring in a comparison?"
Herta was clearly unimpressed with the compliment.
Adora suddenly remembered that this was the same woman who once claimed "everyone else is simply inadequate compared to her."
Coupled with her earlier self-description as a "Genius Pretty Girl," it was clear that Herta possessed a level of self-assurance that bordered on the absolute.
"Forgive my narrow perspective," Adora conceded smoothly.
Herta didn't linger on the point. With a casual flick of her wrist, she beckoned the Power Stone from the center of the containment field, and it drifted obediently into her palm.
Though the Infinity Stones possessed distinct powers, they shared a singular origin.
With her mastery over the stones and her profound understanding of the universe, Herta could rightfully claim to be at least half-proficient at utilizing the gems at this point.
"Simply incredible..." a nearby researcher whispered.
They had utilized a mountain of colossal equipment just to prevent the Power Stone's energy from overflowing or going critical. Yet, in Herta's presence, that same volatile force was as docile as a house-trained pup.
"Madam Herta... is this safe?" Adora asked, eyeing the gem warily.
"Relax, it's harmless."
After confirming the Stone's stability, Herta tossed it into her sleeve as if it were a common marble. She turned to the group. "I've got the goods, so I'll be heading back. If you need anything else, talk to Asta."
Without waiting for a reply, she stepped through a shimmering portal and vanished.
The group stood in stunned silence.
The rumors that Madam Herta was difficult to approach were clearly not exaggerations. Then again, that clinical efficiency and blatant disregard for social niceties were just two sides of her identity as a scientist.
Regardless, getting rid of the "hot potato" that was the Infinity Stone was a blessing. This way, Xandar would no longer be a target for every ambitious civilization in the galaxy.
--+--
On the distant front lines of the cosmic battlefield...
As time ticked by, Thanos seemed to fight with increasing fervor. Rogers was covered in gashes that stained his uniform crimson, while the Titan's armor was merely scuffed and dented, showing no signs of serious injury.
It was to be expected. Rogers lacked a lethal edge; compared to a blade, that shield's only real virtue was its indestructibility.
Even so, Rogers held his ground in the high-intensity exchange, only slightly disadvantaged.
The enhanced physiology of a MANTIS and his impressive recovery speed gave him the stamina for a prolonged war of attrition. He looked like a mess, but his combat effectiveness remained largely intact.
The area surrounding their duel had become a literal no-man's-land; no starships dared approach.
They fought from the vacuum of zero-G onto the hulls of massive cruisers, and when the shockwaves of their clashes shattered the ships, they drifted back into the void, locked in a cycle of destruction.
From any objective standpoint, the outcome was becoming clear. No matter how ironclad Rogers' will or how vast his stamina, they weren't infinite. As his regeneration began to lag, the scales of victory tipped steadily toward the Titan.
Yet... there was no joy on Thanos's face.
The true objective of this campaign—the report from the Black Order—had failed to materialize.
As if delivering a final verdict on his lingering hopes, the voice of a subordinate reached Thanos's ears via bone-conduction comms.
"Lord Thanos! The signals from the Black Order have vanished simultaneously! We've lost all contact!"
Hearing this, Thanos didn't even need to guess.
Herta. It had to be her.
But identifying the culprit provided zero satisfaction. Looking at Rogers—who still met his gaze with unwavering determination, clearly prepared to do this all day—Thanos felt a mounting headache.
Continuing this fight was pointless. He could afford to lose soldiers, but not in a battle that no longer served a purpose.
Thanos stopped his assault and gave Rogers one long, lingering look before tapping his communicator twice.
A dropship quickly maneuvered to his position. Rogers tried to give chase, but Thanos anticipated the move. He sent his double-edged blade spinning through the air, forcing Rogers to raise his shield.
Amidst a shower of sparks, Thanos used the opening to leap onto the departing craft. He caught his returning blade and flew toward his flagship without looking back.
With Thanos unwilling to waste more troops and initiating a withdrawal, Ronan, despite his fury, had no choice but to end the offensive. To stay would mean facing the combined forces of Xandar and the Blue alone.
Knowing that staying was suicide, Ronan's expression turned utterly livid. He hadn't secured the Power Stone, he'd bled a fortune in resources and men, and now he'd be walking into peace negotiations from a position of absolute weakness. He didn't even want to think about the fallout.
But Thanos's mood was far darker than Ronan's.
At that moment, the Titan realized that his dream of "saving" the universe might have just become an impossibility.
From this day forward, the fate of the cosmos rested entirely in Herta's hands.
--+--
T/N: I have a Patreon!
It may not seem worth it now, but maybe in the future. Who knows!
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