[Batman x Ironman] Ch: 9 & 10 [Hela & Catwoman]

AN: 3k words. Enjoy.

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Hela walked through the ruins of Asgard, barely recognizable as the powerful being she once was. Ragnarok had come and gone, leaving only destruction behind. The once-great city was now just a pile of broken stones, and its people were scattered across different worlds. She had been close to victory, ready to take her place as ruler of all Nine Realms, but Thor and that wretched beast Surtur had different ideas. In the last battle, as Asgard fell apart and fire filled the sky, she made the toughest choice of her life. She sacrificed all her divine strength just to stay alive.

At that moment, Hela realized something she had never thought about: power, even if it seems unbeatable, doesn't last forever. If she had died, her story would have ended too—her name would have been forgotten, just like Asgard. So, she decided to live in exile instead of being forgotten. She chose to stay alive instead of dying.

But survival came with a price.

Weak, broken, and stripped of the strength that once made her the Goddess of Death, Hela fled. She could feel her body growing frail, the tendrils of her dark power thinning out like smoke dissipating into the wind. She could no longer control the armies of the dead or use the unbreakable Necrosword easily. She was mortal now—or close enough to it.

The gates of Hel, her own realm, opened for her like a final hug. But as she entered, she felt more like a stranger than its ruler. She fell to the cold, dark ground, with the harsh landscape of Hel stretching out endlessly in front of her. The land was as cruel as ever, a twisted mirror of the emptiness in her heart.

The spirits of the lost souls surrounded her, attracted to her presence. Even in her weakened condition, they knew she was their queen. But Hela, now broken and powerless, had nothing to say to them. She lay still, her face against the ground, fighting to breathe, each shallow breath bringing her closer to losing consciousness.

Hel was silent. It had always been that way. A place without light, time, or sound. The only sound breaking the silence was the slow, steady beat of Hela’s heart, reminding her that she was still alive, though just barely.

In the suffocating isolation, time ceased to matter. Minutes, days, or even centuries passed—she could no longer tell. She was alone, completely severed from the realms above, where the gods squabbled over whatever remained of Asgard. It was fitting, she thought bitterly, that the Goddess of Death would be left alone in a land of the dead.

But she did not mourn.

Instead, she rested.

For many years, Hela stayed hidden in the depths of Hel. She was forgotten by both the living and the dead. This was good for her—no one looked for her, and she needed time. She couldn't let the gods see her in her weak state. She had fallen very low, and any hint of her being alive would bring those who wanted revenge or power to her.

Each day was a battle against her new, broken self.

But where others might have succumbed to despair, Hela found purpose. She had tasted power once, and she would have it again. She would rise once more.

Her days were spent meditating in the dark halls of Hel, drawing upon the faintest remnants of magic that still lingered within her. The land itself fed her, for Hel was more than just a place—it was an extension of her essence. It responded to her desires, albeit faintly. With painstaking slowness, she began to draw strength from the shadows, absorbing the energies of the countless souls trapped within her realm.

It wasn’t enough to restore her to her former glory, but it was a start.

Hela’s patience became her greatest weapon. Over time, her strength returned, bit by bit, like water filling a cup drop by drop. She no longer had the Necrosword, but she could feel her control over death gradually reawakening. The dead obeyed her commands once more, their twisted forms rising at her will.

Still, the magic she regained came at a cost. The more power she drew from Hel, the more the land became bound to her. It was no longer just a refuge—it became her prison. The deeper her connection to it grew, the more difficult it became for her to leave. Yet Hela accepted this trade-off for now. The power would return, she reminded herself. It always did.

Years passed, and Hela’s influence over Hel strengthened. She could control the souls more efficiently, and she could sense her enemies beginning to stir. The Nine Realms had been left in chaos after Ragnarok, but that chaos would eventually give way to order—and when it did, her time would come again.

But this time, she would not be so reckless.

As her power grew, so did her ambition. The throne of Asgard had been lost, but her desire to rule had not. Ragnarok had shown her the limits of brute force and the folly of pride. She had underestimated her brother, underestimated the resistance of her enemies. This time, Hela would not make the same mistake.

Patience. Cunning. These would be her tools now.

Her exile had given her perspective, and with it, she began to form a new plan. She would not return to the Nine Realms in a blaze of destruction. Instead, she would wait. She would watch. She would gather her strength until the time was right—until the realms were weak and divided. And when they were, she would not just attack them from the front, but from the shadows. Hela, the Goddess of Death, would once again claim her place. But this time, it would be on her own terms.

The shadows of Hel shifted around her as she stood tall once more, her eyes gleaming with renewed purpose. The years had been cruel, but they had tempered her. She was no longer the Hela who had craved simple domination.

Now, she craved something more.

But what she didn't expect was the fact that Odin before his death foreseen something that Hela didn't think was possible...

Her Destiny.

He left a wisp of his soul in Hel for a time like this, to teach her mercy which Hela never understood. In order to understand her destiny, she needed to know mercy first.

A strong gust of wind blew through the darkness, carrying with it a single ray of light. Hela turned toward it, her eyes narrowing. This light was different from the darkness—it was warm, inviting, and full of life. It was a piece of Odin's soul, calling to her, guiding her.

"You won't let me live nor will you let me die, will you?" Hela muttered bitterly, even though she knew that her father was dead. "But I will not allow myself to become a pawn in your game, old man."

"Game? This was never a game but a way to bring you and your brothers to their destiny. You were destined to become the Goddess of Death, and fall, as Thor is destined to become the King of Asgard but lost Asgard, yet he became the king of the new Asgard, and Loki is destined to become the God of Stories but he's the only one who found his real destiny, a new throne. Each of you has a role to play in the Nine Realms, and it is up to you to choose whether you will fulfill that role or not," Odin's voice echoed in Hela's mind as if he were still alive. "As I always said, nothing is eternal. Your choices will lead you to your destiny, for good or for worse..."

Hela scoffed at the thought. Destined to become the Goddess of Death? It sounded ridiculous to her ears. How could she ever believe in such nonsense? The gods of the Nine Realms were not chosen by fate; they forged their own destinies. And if Hela had any say in the matter, she would forge her own destiny and nothing else.

"God of Stories? That's new. Anyway, why are you here? You can't do anything anymore in that pathetic state of yours, father. So, spit it out. What do you want from me?" Hela asked, crossing her arms and staring at the ray of light with annoyance.

The light moved closer to her, surrounding her with warmth and comfort.

"A new Multiverse crashed with ours. The balance is holding for the moment, but a merge is inevitable. When that happens, New Gods will come into existence. Gods, more powerful than anything we have ever seen. Stronger than you, me, or other Gods," Odin's voice whispered, a hint of worry in his tone. "They will bring destruction upon the Nine Realms and beyond."

"Ha..." Hela scoffed again. "Your jokes don't amuse me, father. Even if they exist, they would be nothing against me. They would fall under my feet like the mortals. So, save your breath for someone who cares about this Multiverse thing, old man. I have my own plans, and they do not include saving this world. Now leave me alone!" Hela spat, turning her back to the light.

Odin's soul sighed heavily. He knew his daughter well enough to know that she wouldn't listen to him.

"This is no joke. The limit of their strength is unknown. One such God has already entered our Multiverse. Darkseid. His power is unlike anything we have ever seen. Even with all Infinity Stones combined, you won't stand a chance against him. If this Multiverse merge occurs, his army will come along with other Gods. Before that happens, you must stop him," Odin said as his soul solidified, taking a proper form before Hela. "Because there won't be anything to rule if you don't stop him, Hela."

Hela glanced over her shoulder, looking at the wisp of her father's soul. For a brief moment, she saw the seriousness in his eyes.

"You are serious, huh?!" She said, turning around. "Fine then. If this Darkseid is as strong as you say, it will be a challenge, and I love challenges. But what do I get out of this? If I help you, what do I gain?" Hela asked with a smirk.

"Your true potential," Odin aimed his finger toward her and a beam of light shot out of it, hitting Hela straight in the chest.

"W-What are you doing?!" Hela gasped as the beam of light entered her body.

"Your trial has begun, Hela. Live on Earth as a mortal among the mortals, learn mercy, learn compassion, and most importantly, learn how to forgive. Only then, will you unlock your true potential, only then will you understand your destiny," Odin's voice whispered in Hela's ear.

But then, the divine energy exploded, lighting up the dark lands of Hel and Odin's voice boomed...

"I, Odin All-Father, exile you Hela, Goddess of Death, to Earth. You will walk among the mortals as one of them. I seal your divinity and your immortality. Should you take an innocent life, you will lose your powers forever and become mortal. Should you learn mercy and forgiveness, you will unlock your true potential."

Those were the last words Hela heard before everything went dark.

***

[New York City]

Hela woke up. She was lying on the hard concrete ground in a dirty alley, surrounded by trash. Her clothes were torn, and she felt weak. She groaned, sitting up and looking around. The nasty stench of urine and garbage assaulted her senses.

"What in the hell happened...?" Hela muttered as she tried to stand up, but she was too weak to do so. She leaned against the wall for support, breathing heavily.

She looked down at herself, seeing that her body was covered in dirt and grime. Her arms looked malnourished, and her skin was pale. She tried to summon her power, but nothing happened.

"Tsk, damn old man," Hela cursed, punching the wall with all her strength. But instead of breaking the wall, she cried out in pain. "Argggg!!" She held her bruised knuckles, staring at them in disbelief.

How could this happen to her? She was the Goddess of Death, and now, she was mortal?

"Hehehe... Oh, my, would you look at that, boys," A rough voice laughed, coming from behind her. Hela turned to see three men standing at the entrance of the alleyway. They wore dirty clothes and smelled of alcohol and cigarettes.

"Looks like we got ourselves a pretty little thing here. A gal right in our alley," The man in the middle, who appeared to be the leader, grinned. He had a shaved head and tattoos covering most of his body. The other two men chuckled in agreement, moving closer to her.

"How dare you mortals! Do you know who I am?" Hela hissed, glaring at them with hatred. "I am the Goddess of Death. Bow before me, and maybe I'll spare your pathetic lives!"

"Heh, I don't care who ya are, dollface. Ya look like easy prey to me," The tattooed man sneered.

Hela tried to summon her power, but nothing happened. She was powerless, and these mortals could hurt her. She could see lust dripping from their eyes as they began to walk toward her. She wanted to run away, but there was a wall on the other end of the alley.

"Come on, girly. Play nice with us. We won't bite... much," The tattooed man reached out to grab Hela's arm. She slapped his hand away, causing him to growl angrily. "You dirty, piss-covered bitch!" He punched her in the stomach, knocking the air out of her lungs. Hela doubled over in pain, clutching her stomach as she gasped for breath.

"Stop this madness!" She coughed, spitting blood.

"Shut yer mouth, slut! Tonight, you are gonna be our little ol' playmate," The tattooed man grabbed Hela by her hair, pulling her up roughly. She screamed in agony as he threw her onto the ground.

Hela felt a sharp pain shoot through her body when she landed on the cold hard concrete. Her vision blurred, and her ears rang loudly. She struggled to breathe, but her lungs were burning.

"Oh yeah, scream some more for us, baby. That's right, cry and beg for us to stop," The tattooed man laughed maniacally.

Just then, a streak of meteor crashed on the street outside the alleyway, causing everyone to turn their heads toward it. A figure emerged from within the crater, dressed in sleek black armor.

"Dang! Arggg! My head!" A woman's voice came to their ears.

Hela stared at the newcomer curiously. Who was she? Was she a friend or foe? The mysterious woman in armor groaned, rubbing her forehead and shaking off the dust. Her eyes met Hela's briefly before she turned her attention to the three men.

"Arg! More scums?! Damn, where am I?" The mysterious woman exclaimed. She looked confused, glancing around the city.

"Who the fuck are ya?!" The tattooed man growled at the newcomer.

"Me?" The woman disappeared from their sight. The next, the tattooed man looked down at his chest. A fist pierced through his back and protruded from his chest, covered in blood. The tattooed man's eyes widened in shock as he coughed up blood. The mysterious woman pulled out her arm, and he fell dead on the ground. "What are you gonna do after knowing that?" The woman smirked. "You are already dead."

Hela stared at the dead body, shocked by what just happened. The mysterious woman killed that man with ease, without even breaking a sweat.

The two remaining men gulped nervously, taking a step back from her. But just like before, the woman in the suit disappeared and reappeared right in front of them. She grabbed one man's neck and lifted him off the ground. She squeezed tightly, crushing his windpipe while staring directly into his eyes. She ripped out his throat effortlessly with her bare hands.

The third man, who was too scared to move, peed himself and fainted.

Hela watched in awe as the mysterious woman dropped the lifeless corpse and picked up the man who just fainted. She broke his neck effortlessly before tossing him aside.

"You alright?" She extended her hand to Hela, offering to help her up. Hela hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do. The mysterious woman noticed this and frowned. "Hey, relax. I ain't a bad person. It's just that I can't stand scums like them. Those bastards must have raped and killed many girls in the past or else they wouldn't have behaved like that. Scums like that are better dead than alive."

Hela took the stranger's hand slowly, allowing herself to be helped up. 'To think, I, need a mortal's help,' She thought to herself bitterly.

"I'm Catwoman, what's your name?" The mysterious woman asked Hela once she had gotten back on her feet.

"Catwoman? That ain't a name, sweetheart," Hela scoffed. "But, I appreciate your help. I'm Hela."

"Hela? That sounds cool. So, any idea where this place is?" Catwoman asked. Hela shook her head. She didn't recognize anything around her. All she knew was that she ended up here somehow after being exiled by Odin. Catwoman sighed, scratching her head. "Well, let's get you cleaned up and some food, then we can figure out our situation..."