The air solidified.
It wasn't a metaphor—it was a literal, physical solidification.
As Frieza's grotesque, hideous, xenomorphic third form descended, the very space of Asgard felt as if it had been injected with high-density mercury.
Heavy.
Stifling.
Suffocating.
"Huff… Huff…"
The monster, nearly three meters tall, its back bristling with bone spurs, its skull elongated backward, hunched slightly, letting out a hair-raising rasp from deep in its throat.
"Oh dear…"
"What an unpleasant sensation."
Frieza raised his claw-like hands, surveying the shell coating them. Those crimson eyes held not a gleam of intoxication with power, but sheer disgust.
"This form is far too inelegant."
"Like some half-evolved beast."
"Odin…"
Frieza whipped his head around, the mouth split to his ears baring white fangs.
"For forcing me into this ugliness, I'll peel that tin plating off you, piece by piece."
Boom!
Before the words had faded, Frieza's figure vanished.
Not teleportation—just speed so extreme light itself couldn't track it.
"What?!"
Inside Destroyer, Odin's lone eye flared wide.
Before he could raise his greatsword—
BANG!!!
A massive foot slammed into Destroyer's chest.
The Uru that could withstand the shockwave of a stellar explosion, caved in under that single kick.
"Gah!"
Odin spat another mouthful of golden divine blood.
The titanic Destroyer shot like a cannonball, piercing several floating mountain-isles before smashing into the far end of the Bifrost Bridge.
"Done already?"
"Too weak."
Frieza's shadow stayed right with it. He seized Destroyer's helm, long fingers hooking into the visor's gaps.
"Up… you… go!"
Frieza's arm muscles ballooned, swinging the impossibly heavy armor like a war-hammer.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Left! Right!
The earth split and rubble flew.
The All-Father, sovereign of the Nine Realms, was now like a rag-doll—utterly helpless.
"This is a god?"
Frieza pinned Destroyer beneath a foot, violet Death Beams gathering at his fingertips.
Swish... Swish...
The beams nailed its limbs to the ground like spikes.
"Aaaaargh—!!!"
Odin's agonized roar echoed inside the armor.
Far away, Thanos and Hela's scalps tingled.
"No… it's not over…"
Crushed underfoot, Odin's voice was faint yet crazed with resolve.
"Asgard… never falls!"
"Hela! Lend me your power!!!"
Odin thrust out a hand, clawing at empty air.
Bzzzt—
Hela's face changed mid-battle.
"Old man—how dare you?!"
She felt her divine force draining away against her will!
It was the root power bound to Asgard itself!
As All-Father, as the giver of Asgard's might, Odin was forcibly siphoning every god on the realm.
"No! That's mine! My strength!"
Hela collapsed, her body withering, once-lustrous skin turning ashen.
Not just her—the whole of Asgard quaked and withered.
Golden palaces dimmed, rivers dried, the World Tree's leaves fell.
Odin was sacrificing all of Asgard.
Rumble—
Flooded by that titanic force, the divine flames snuffed out on Destroyer roared back to life, now an eerie black-gold.
"Get off me!!!"
Odin's roar hurled Frieza aside in a blast of power.
He rose slowly.
The World-Ending Greatsword in his grip had turned utterly black, wreathed in the wails of countless souls and the weight of a dying civilization.
"Frieza…"
Odin lifted the blade and pointed to the sky, its aura already past the Nine Realms' limit.
"This is the Nine Realms' final fury."
"And my own funeral gift to you."
Watching that sky-splitting might, Frieza righted himself mid-air and brushed dust from his shoulder.
"Hoo…"
"Finally, something interesting."
His voice dropped to a low rasp. "I have to admit, that sword of yours makes me feel a sliver of threat."
"But…"
He glanced at his bone-spurred hands in revulsion.
"Winning in this ugly form offends every aesthetic I have."
"Since you've shown your last card and are ready to die..."
Frieza spread his arms, body shaking violently.
"I'll add a little more despair."
"Watch closely, Odin."
"This is the true Emperor of the universe."
BOOOOOM!!!
An aura millions of times more terrifying burst from Frieza—one that cracked reality itself.
Crack! Crack...
The hard violet shell shattered and fell away. Blinding white light lanced through the fissures, illuminating the dark cosmos.
Meanwhile, on the moon's far side.
The Watcher Uatu's recorder slipped from his huge bald head and clattered to the ground. Eyes that had seen countless worlds rise and fall now brimmed with terror.
"What… what energy level is this?!"
"This pure destructive force… it surpasses the All-Father tier."
Deep in the Universe.
Arishem the Judge, asleep among the Celestials, flashed red in his titanic optic sensors.
"Anomalous energy surge detected."
"Threat class: World-ending."
"Recalculating Milky Way Galaxy coordinates…"
Even in far-flung dimensions, the cosmic abstracts—Eternity, Infinity, Death—sensed some nameless insect gnawing at the Universe's root.
Back on Asgard, the white light faded.
The hideous xenomorph was gone. In its place stood a petite, snow-white figure, purple crystals only on crown and chest. He looked utterly unremarkable, even cute. Yet the aura he exuded warped space itself, as though the Universe rejected him even while groveling at his feet.
Frieza—Fourth Form!
Final Form!
Power level—120 million!!!
"Ha…"
Frieza drew a breath, his crimson eyes clear and deep.
He clenched a fist, feeling the boundless ocean of power within.
"This… is perfection."
He looked down at the Destroyer-Odin below, sword raised and tensed for battle, and smiled with exquisite, ruthless elegance.
"Sorry to keep you."
"If you're all going to die anyway, I'll let you perish before a true god."
"Raaagh!!!!"
Odin's mind was now devoured by the cursed blade. No matter how strong Frieza was, he would swing.
"Ragnarok!!!"
Odin gripped the hilt with both hands and raised it high.
The World-Ending Greatsword that had swallowed Asgard, swallowed Hela, swallowed the Nine Realms' root, came down in a black crescent that could bisect the galaxy.
Time itself seemed severed by the blow.
Yet, against that World-ending strike, Frieza merely hovered, hands in his pockets, not even bothering to dodge.
"Too slow." He murmured.
Then, he slowly extended a hand.
Not a fist, not a chop.
Just a single index finger.