Within the grand estate, the atmosphere fell into a sudden silence following Hela's arrival.
"Damn it!"
It was only after Ego's angry outburst in the video that the awkward tension was finally broken.
"So, you're Odin's daughter—Hela?"
The Collector waved his hand with theatrical casualness, sliding the data chip into his pocket as if nothing had happened, then reopened the conversation.
"Your father mentioned you once."
"And mine had a lot to say about you," Hela replied with a shrug.
In broad daylight, with the cosmos as witness, two fully grown men crowding around that kind of video—Hela never expected that even a Celestial like the Collector would indulge in such... eccentric hobbies.
Too long a life must drive the mind off-kilter.
Then again, recalling what Odin once told her—that the Collector was a lifeform born at the dawn of the universe—Hela suddenly understood.
"Odin really should consider upgrading Asgard's transportation system," the Collector said, perhaps noticing the suspicion in her gaze and promptly shifting the topic.
Even the finest steeds have their limits.
Unless, of course, they cease to be horses altogether.
"Perhaps," Hela replied coolly, letting the subject drop. She turned and took out the card her father had entrusted her with before her departure, handing it to the Collector.
"Come with me. Rodus, you too—this concerns you as well."
The Collector took the card, lightly brushing its embossed surface with his index finger. Once he sensed the trace of Odin's energy, he smiled and slipped it away, stepping forward atop his new levitating toy and heading into the estate.
The attending slaves, upon seeing the arrival of guests, calmed their anxious expressions and bowed respectfully before retreating.
"What's the current state of the Nine Realms?"
As Hela stepped into the manor and pushed open the door to the storage chamber, her gaze was met with a dazzling array of treasures—an overwhelming collection that could leave even seasoned warriors breathless.
These were treasures the Collector had acquired over his years on the planet Gafa. Each artifact—unique and priceless.
"I heard Malekith, the wielder of the Aether, has returned. Odin must be having a hard time."
The Collector's lips curled slightly as he recalled the youthful, impassioned Odin. That era had brought him rare joy—but Odin, in the end, was a man with a kingdom to rule.
"He's dead."
"What did you say?" The Collector froze, surprise flickering in his voice.
"Killed by Odin?"
"No. Thanos," Hela replied, shaking her head.
But at the mention of the Mad Titan, it wasn't the gaunt, purple conqueror who came to mind—it was the golden-haired, green-eyed warrior.
With a single flash of Thanos's blade, Malekith's head had fallen. The villain's evil was brought to a definitive end.
And yet, before Thanos, it was another—a man who claimed to have surpassed even the Saiyans—who left the deepest impression on her.
"The survivor of Titan, is he?"
"A formidable one," the Collector said, pausing in front of a display case housing another artifact.
"But now I understand why Odin was so desperate to acquire this."
From a concealed compartment, the Collector withdrew a worn, fragmented map and handed it to Hela.
"It seems he finally felt pressure."
Hela took the map, examining it from every angle—but she couldn't discern anything of note.
She couldn't fathom why her father would value such a ragged thing so highly—enough to send her across the realms to retrieve it, even with a decisive battle against the Frost Giants looming.
"Vormir?"
She squinted at the map's marked destination—a name she'd never encountered before.
"What kind of place is that?"
"Desolate. Extremely. But it houses a force Odin desperately needs right now."
The Collector placed his hands behind his back, gliding across the vault's smooth floor with Hela and Rodus in tow.
"A force father desperately needs?" Hela asked, confused.
After Malekith's fall, Odin stood unchallenged across the Nine Realms. Laufey of Jotunheim alone posed no threat to Asgard's conquest. What more could he possibly need?
"Have you ever heard of the Infinity Stones?"
The question came suddenly. The Collector turned sharply, locking eyes with her.
"What?" Hela frowned.
She had heard Lothar mention something once—something about the Aether being the so-called Reality Stone.
"They are primordial forces, born with the universe itself. And the power on Vormir… is one of the six Infinity Stones."
"It represents the Soul."
Soul?
As a warrior of the gods imbued with deathly divinity, the first thing that came to Hela's mind upon hearing that word was her own unique abilities.
"I don't know why Odin suddenly demanded this map from me," the Collector said, "but since he took one of my possessions, I expect something of interest in return."
He led them to the other side of the vault, into an enclosed lab space.
"What is this…?"
A latticework of glowing blue conduits pulsed softly. At their center, suspended in a glass chamber, hovered a single flower bud—barely open.
"To complete the blooming of this exquisite treasure, you may take the map," the Collector said, leaning in toward the glass.
"What is it?" Hela asked warily. She had no idea what this thing was.
"Rodus," the Collector snapped his fingers, gesturing toward the man who had silently followed behind them the entire time.
"That… is the Cosmic Flower," Rodus replied, sliding his helmet to his side, his voice calm and resonant.
"Nurtured by stardust, cultivated in the cradle of galaxies—once it blooms, it shall never wither. A flower of life, ever-blooming in the stillness of the cosmos."
There was one thing Rodus left unsaid.
That the life-giving properties of this flower meant nothing to the Collector. He had spent thirty million years on Gafa to grow it—for a single, fleeting reason.
Because when it bloomed... it would be beautiful.
Yes, the Collector was that kind of man.
Or perhaps it was more—an aesthetic pursuit, noble in its pointlessness.
"What do I need to do?" Hela asked. She didn't understand, having never heard of such a thing.
"Kill this man. Then find his true body—and take his Star Core," the Collector replied, raising the chip in his hand.
The video flickered to life again. A man danced with a woman under the soft lights of a grand hall.
To preserve his image as a respectable elder, the Collector paused the video just as the man arched a confident brow.
"His name is Ego."
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